Sweet Soul

I sat looking out onto the clapping crowd and I thought back to the first time I came here, the first time I experienced all of these people and all of the noise. It scared me. It unnerved me so much that I wasn’t ever sure I could come back. But I did, and I had. Through therapy and working at the center I’d gradually built up my confidence, and realized that I didn’t have to be so scared anymore. Because what had happened to me wasn’t embarrassing nor had it made me weak. It was cruel and malicious on the part of the bully. But it wasn’t my fault, it was nothing I did, and my life would not be bettered until I learned to recognize that I was more than their victim. That I was more than the words they used to cut me down.

I deserved more, and I was trying each day to get it.

Levi, only a few days after I came home, helped me sign up to get my GED. He worked with me every night. He tutored me through the subjects I’d never passed, and with every new thing I learned, I grew more confident in myself, so confident that I knew I wanted to become a counselor. And I now knew I’d be good at it. The weeks spent listening and talking to the kids at Kind had shown me that I was a good listener. My years of silence giving me a skill that the kids vitally needed—someone to simply listen and understand.

It was where I belonged.

Lexi sat down beside me, and she laid her head on my shoulder. “Poor Levi, he’ll be sad they lost.”

“Yeah, but he’ll be okay,” I replied and Lexi lifted her head and smiled.

“How you feeling?” she enquired.

I took a deep breath. “Okay, I think.”

Lexi squeezed my hand, but let go when Ally and Molly came over to talk. We chatted about trivial things until I heard Levi walk through the door to the private box. This time, he came to me first, his expression disappointed and low.

“You okay?” I asked when he took me in his arms.

“Yeah.” He sighed. “Just sucks.”

“You played well though.”

Levi gave me a private humored smile. “Still lost, bella mia. We still lost.”

Lifting up, I kissed his lips. When I pulled back, I said, “Did that make it any better?”

Levi laughed and nodded his head. “Always.”

Levi greeted his family, then we all made our way to a restaurant. We ate and laughed, and as the night drew on, Levi let go of his disappointment, where my nerves only built up.

When we left the restaurant, we walked down the street, and Lexi suddenly said, “Anyone want coffee?”

Levi stopped and squeezed my hand. “Sure?” he replied, then looked around. We were standing in front of the coffee house where he’d brought me to listen to Sarah Carol, a poetry house that we came to often to listen to the open mic, or special guests if we could.

“Is this place good?” Lexi asked and walked toward the door with Austin.

“Yeah,” Levi replied, “me and Elsie come here a lot.”

“Great!” Lexi said and walked inside. The minute we entered, Lexi beelined for a small cluster of sofas and we all sat down.

“Poetry?” Rome Prince asked as he looked around the room. His eyebrows were raised as if questioning why the hell we were here.

“Broaden your horizons, babe,” Molly said to her husband and rolled her eyes.

“Put it this way, cuz,” Ally sat forward, “ain’t no one in here gonna recognize you and Aust and accost you for autographs. I’m thinking in this place, to these people, football players are akin to the anti-Christ!”

Axel laughed and pulled his fiancée back, just as a server came to give us drinks and the emcee announced that the floor was open for readings.

I watched speaker by speaker, and I felt completely overcome with nerves. Levi’s arm was tight around my shoulders, when he asked, “You okay, bella mia? You seem tense.”

I nodded my head and smiled. “I’m good, just tired.”

Levi eyed me strangely, but I sipped at my coffee, hearing an opening on the stage. My heart beat in my chest, and my hands shook with nerves, but I abruptly forced myself to my feet. Our family and friends all paused in their conversations to look up at me, but I sought out Lexi, who nodded her head and encouraged me with a smile.

“Elsie?” Levi questioned and sat forward. Leaning down, I pressed a kiss to his forehead, his face confused, then turned to the stage. The lone microphone stood underneath the glare of the bright spotlight, but I moved forward, forcing myself to do this.

It was something I had to do.

I stepped onto the stage, and from my jean’s pocket, pulled out a piece of paper. My words were written in my usual black handwriting, and I held on to that paper tight, just to do something with my hands.

I took in a deep breath, and when I did, I looked up. I looked up and immediately sought out Levi who was sitting on the edge of his seat. His gray eyes were huge and his expression was shocked as he watched me on this stage.

The room was silent, waiting for me to talk.

I scanned my eyes around the room, seeing all the attention was on me. The crippling fear took hold. My breathing came harder, the sound echoing through the room.

I closed my eyes. I closed my eyes and remembered why I was up here. I wanted to face my demons. I wanted to stop hiding my voice. I needed to show the world that no matter how far I’d been brought down, I wouldn’t be kept down.

I would rise.

And I’d be heard, on my own terms.

Forcing my eyes to open, I focused on the tiled floor and read the title aloud. “Sweet Soul,” I said, internally wincing when the words echoed through the mic.

Inhaling again, I lifted my eyes, and this time, Levi was on his feet. I could see that he was terrified for me, but at the same time, I could see the utter pride glaring in his eyes. That pride caused me to lower the paper.

Because I knew this poem by heart. It was him.

All of this was him and me:

“Born into silence, a world with no sound,

Living in coldness, words trapped and bound.

Kept in dark pain, by fears and by rain,

The needles brought poison, venom to vein.

Snatched in the night, in darkness she fell,

Taunted and tortured, muteness her cell.

Voices inside, a loop in her mind,

Like daggers they pierce, no scars would they find.

Tempted by sharpness, immersed in the flood,

Two strikes to the flesh, the welcome of blood.

Brought back to fear, no heaven she met,