MORE THAN WORDS by Wren

It’s late at night in London.  Your words are scattered throughout the red light district, but nobody knows where they came from, for this is the only time you ever come out.  In a place like this, nobody really notices, so your presence is almost nonexistant.

Almost.

You left a little book of poems, wrapped in ribbon, Emily Dickinson-style, on every other table in the coffee shop and departed.  You do this every Friday, and you leave. Normally, nobody notices.  If they do, you’re not there long  enough to tell.  Apparently, word is getting around about you, and in order to keep the mystery, you leave to another town and the cycle repeats.

Before you leave the coffee shop, a man in his early thirties sits at his table and reads the little book you left.   He must’ve seen you put it there because after he’s done reading, he looks at you.  As he gets up, you put your cloak on and make a run for it.  You can hear him behind you as you dash to the nearest alley.

Shit, you thought to yourself as you see a group of unshaven, unkempt men, apparently involved in some shady dealings that you weren’t meant to see.  Too late; the men grab you. One suggests that you be killed outright, but another intervenes. “Let’s see what’s under this cloak...fuck that, how bout the rest?” They all laugh as they gag you.  You shut your eyes and bite your lower lip as you feel hands moving up and down your body, underneath your clothes, violating  you.

Before they can get any further, one of them seemingly stops.  Suddenly you hear punches and a thud.  More follow, but you’re too terrified, so as you feel the grasp of the men become loose, you huddle in the corner whimpering, cloak over your head.

Silence.  “Are you alright?” A Welsh accent.

You’re too scared to look up. “I won’t hurt you, love. It’s okay, they’re all gone.”

Reluctantly, you look up.  It’s the guy from the coffee shop. He sees the tears in your eyes as he helps you back up, and holds you by the shoulders. “Are you hurt?” He keeps asking you with great concern, moving his hands up and down your arms, trying to calm you down. You’re not one to trust the first man that saves you from this sort of thing, after all you’ve seen it before.  Only this time it’s not as obvious that the man may be saving something for later, if you know what I mean.

It seems like ages before you muster an answer.  You nod your head.
“You don’t have to be afraid of me.”  You find your eyes can’t escape his...such  beautiful, deep brown eyes that sing of deep sincerity. “Tell me your name.”

Shit! You’ve been mute since you were a little girl. Before you could try to let him know that, he  says:  “Eh, you don’t have to answer that now...do you have a place to stay for the night?”
You shake your head, looking down.

“Well...child...sorry...I don’t know your name...but I promise I won’t hurt you or do anything to you...you could stay with me tonight.  I have a guest room where you can sleep, and I could make you dinner.”

You look up. You can’t believe this is really happening.  Someone offering you something you’ve wanted for ages...a warm place...just for one night...and a meal even.  This all sounds too good, but you take one more look into his eyes...the sincerity is still there.

You nod your head again.  “Great...it’s not far from here.  We can walk there. I’ll hold your hand if you want.” You eagerly hold your hand out as he takes it into his.  His hands feel incredibly soft and warm and for the first time in a long time, you felt a slight semblance of safety and smile.  “You’re lightening up, and you’ve stopped shaking,” he comments.

You beam at him and he talks to you throughout the walk, pointing out some of the sights as you look around with him. You smile to yourself thinking, I don’t think he yet realizes that I can’t talk. The two of you arrive at his place.  He  opens the door and allows you to go in first.  It’s incredibly warm in here, you think to yourself.  You take off your cloak. “I could put that away for you.” He offers and you hand it to him.  You continue to look around until you notice something slightly tickling the back of your leg.

You gasp and turn quickly around to face the offender...which turns out to be the sweetest little basset hound you’ve ever seen.  You bend down to pick him up and hug him.

“Well, I see you’ve made a new friend.” The man approaches as you hand the basset hound to him.  He gently puts him down and the basset hound runs to another room.  “Sit down, child. You seem weary.”

You fumble around in your bag for a pen and a piece of paper, write something down, and hand the paper to him.  He reads it out loud.  “My name is Violet and I haven’t been able to speak since I was a kid.”  He looks at you.  “I’m so sorry...Violet.” He glances at the paper to make sure.  “I’m James, by the way.” He laughs nervously. “Didn’t occur to me until now to tell you my name.”  You smile too, and shrug.

“Well I’m going to make dinner now...if you need anything, have at it. If you want to take a shower or anything there’s some towels in the linen closet nearby...” He points to where everything is as he’s getting out a pan and some  things to make what appears will be lasagne later.  You smile and put your hand to your chest.  It’s the only way you say thank you.  Thankfully, James  understands. “It’s no trouble, really.  I wasn’t really looking forward to spending the evening myself, you know.”

You head to the bathroom and turn on the water.  As you’re stripping off, you suddenly hear music in the background.  You play with the dimmers in the bathroom until they’re just the right setting and then you get in the tub, which  is now full. 

As you relax, your mind wanders off and you close your eyes, thinking of times  past.  That dreadful night...your mother screaming her last as she was bludgeoned by a man. You never did find out who that man was...you were lucky to escape with your life...but the shock of your mother’s last moments left you literally speechless.

There was nothing the doctors could do for you that time.  You were sent off to an orphanage and lived there until you were sixteen.  You’ve spent the last five years on your own.  All you had was whatever writing utensil you could find on the street, and whatever stationery and ribbons you could swipe from the drugstore without getting caught.  You’d spent night after night...sometimes weeks...begging for spare change, every now and then getting accosted by a stranger, who you’d usually beat up and take whatever money he had. You didn’t like thieving...but what was a young mute supposed to do? This was life for you, and you survived.

When you ran into that alley not too long ago, you were terrified. There was no way you could have beat up all of them. And here comes this guy, out of nowhere, to save you. For whatever reason, this must have been the higher up’s way of saying, “Let the kid have a break.”  And why not? You smile to yourself.  You look up as if you were thanking the higher up for bringing someone as good looking as the man who saved you tonight.

The next thing you remember as you were abruptly snapped back to the present was the uncomfortable feeling of water forced up your nose...you were drowning.

“Violet! Violet, wake up!” James pulled you from your shoulders above the water. You cough up the water you ingested. “Violet, dear are you alright?” He gently moves your hair out of your face. “It got a bit quiet here, I got worried.” Once  you realize where you are, you quickly cover yourself with your arms. “I’m sorry...I wouldn’t have barged in like I did if you weren’t in danger of drowning yourself,” he said with a half-hearted chuckle.  You force out a smile of chagrin. “Don’t worry, love.  I’m just as embarrassed as you are.” James runs his fingers through his hair sheepishly. “Well...dinner’s ready by the way.” Have I been out that long? you think to yourself. You get up from the tub, still kinda covering yourself as James hands you a towel to wrap yourself up in.  He gets another towel and slowly starts rubbing it against your hair.  You’re now face to face with him as he tenderly dries off your hair. “You are quite lovely, you know that?” He says with a lowered voice.  You beam at him as you bite your lower lip. “Ah, don’t be embarrassed...you really have no idea how lovely you are.” He turns you towards the mirror.

This is the first time you've ever seen yourself in five years.  How you’ve matured...how long your hair has grown, your awkwardness had since been put to place...everything.  James wraps his arms around you as you look at yourself and  gives you a gentle kiss on your shoulder. “Told ya, love.”

You smile shyly at your reflection as James walks off to another room, only to be back with a black button up shirt and some shorts. “Something clean for you while I wash your other clothes.”

You take the clothes and once again put your hand to your chest.  He smiles at you. “That’s really cute, you know that?  Right, meet me in the living room when you’re ready.” He closes the door…but not before locking it this time.

Well, shit, kid!  He’s seen everything and yet he hasn’t taken advantage yet, you think to yourself.  You feel trust and hope for the first time in ages as you put on the clothes James brought you and head for the living room.

Boy, he really went all out.  “Thanks for giving me the time to do this. I put Mr. Dog to bed for the night,” James laughs. (ed- back off, it’s a fantasy.) Candles, everything all set up.  “I didn’t know what you drank, so I made some iced tea.” You beam and sit at your place on the other side of the floor, and start eating, almost ravenously. James looks intrigued. "Slow down, child, you’ll go through system shock.” You look ashamed and bite at your knuckles, looking at James. He can’t help but be amused at your ‘child caught with the cookie jar look’. “When was the last time you’d eaten a meal?...Oh, right.” He quickly remembers that you can’t speak. “Sorry.”  You beam at him, letting him know that he’s alright, as you both eat.

When you’re both finished, you look at his movie collection as he grabs a blanket from the bedroom.  “I was thinking the same thing.”  You nod and pull out one movie at random.

“Don’t tell me you’ve never seen this.” Apparently you pulled out One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest. You shrug. “Oh, you deprived child. Come sit with me.” As he turns on the video, you wrap yourself up in the blanket he brought, and offer some to him.  He gladly obliges and you snuggle up against him.

“Fancy a smoke?” He offers.  You gratefully take one out of the pack he’s holding as he lights it up for you. You inhale deeply, and exhale as you lean your head against his chest.   He lights one up for himself and puts his arm around you.  “Good dinner?” You look at him and nod appreciatively as the opening credits flash on the screen.

With the passage of time, James notices that you fell asleep.  He chuckles and carries you to your room and tucks you in.  He lingers some more, watching you sleep ever so peacefully...all the fear, anxiety, the deep sadness you hold within that you can’t spill out is all washed away for now, but it will come back when you wake up.

“Not this time.” James thought out loud.  He then picks you up from the bed and cradles you in his arms, your head leaning against his shoulder.

He feels you shake a little bit as your eyes meet his. “There it is again, child.  How can I take the pain away?”

Genuine concern...waking up in the arms of someone who genuinely loves you and wants to help you.  The last one to hold you in their arms was Mother...Mother, who held you and consoled you when you woke up from your recurring nightmares.  Now this man...how could someone be so good to you?  How could you thank him?

You move closer to his face as he does to yours until your lips meet in a warm embrace.  All these thoughts rush into you head.  Everything you want to tell him.  Thank you for taking me in, thank you for saving my life, I think I love you, don’t ever let me go, thank you for everything...it goes on until you can’t bear it anymore and you start to cry.

“Oh, Violet...” James whispers, holding you closer to him and rocking you gently. “Violet, love...how can I take your pain away...” It’s not pain anymore, James. I wish I could tell you how you make me feel...there’s only one way...

You get up and find your bag, take out the paper and pen, and write down everything you feel.

Everything poured out into place.  Everything you’ve wanted to say to James in this very short time you’ve been with him...how even though it’s only been some hours, that you’ve loved a lifetime’s worth.  That he made you believe in love and hope and trust again, that it was not just words to put together and leave on the tables at coffee shops.  That it wasn’t just a dream for you anymore.

You hand him the finished project and he reads through it to himself.  You bite your lower lip nervously and perch down, your arms around your knees.

“Violet,” he finally looks up.  “This is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever read...but you don’t need words to tell me how you feel.  Come here, Violet...” You get up, and come closer to James.  “Your eyes speak more than words possibly could ever portray.  I may never know what it is like to be you...but the mouldiness buried deep in your eyes is so obvious...and I can feel your hurt inside my heart...I’m lost as to what it is I could do to make it stop...but I won’t let you go, child.  I can’t bear to put you back in the same place I found you.  Please stay with me, Violet.”

You almost run into his arms and you both cry. “Never again, Violet.” He strokes your hair as you hold each other tight.  You take another look at each other. He senses a slight tinge of hope in your eyes.  “Would you like to sleep in my bed tonight?” You nod gratefully. “Good, because I couldn’t seem to leave your room when I put you to bed.” He carries you off to his room and you both fall asleep ever so peacefully in each others arms.


Violet's song >>>


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