“i know you’re self-conscious, but you deserve to feel as beautiful as you are”

(van realizes what tai is doing during the second kiss and short-circuits)

God Knows What Is Hiding | Eittie Douglas | Self Para

The walk home from the bus stop was a peaceful one, this time of year was always particularly beautiful in the evenings. Even though it was well past midnight, Eittie did not think twice about walking home through the still night, the warmly lit street lamps cast light out across the road and from the bridge they spilled out onto the fast moving Tay, lighting up the dark water like Van Gogh’s yellow across his Starry Night Across the Rhone. Humming softly to the music playing in her ear phones, the warmth of the Whiskey sat in her belly. Eittie strolled across the bridge at her own pace, looking up towards the Cathedral lit up to the North of the town. As she so often did, she thought about it’s long history, about the Viking boats which had pulled up by it’s shores, the battles fought on it’s paths, the religious reformation invading it’s pews. The entire town lived in it’s shadow, as scarred and affected by the life of the stone building which over looked it all. It was only a short wander of her gaze down before she could see the small stone fence which marked the back of her Grandfather’s garden which looked out onto the Tay. From where she stood, she could see the light of the kitchen illuminating the old rose by the doorway and for a moment, Eittie stopped. 

It had been her home for over twenty years, the small white cottage with three chimneys. Between the old oak trees she could make out the shape of her window that looked out to the river and the shape of the staircase leading up to it. Every night she stopped here, for a moment remembering all of the happy times she had spent there, gardening with her Grandfather, reading by the river, cold winters inside when it snowed. Replaying the happy memories were the only way she found her feet moving forward again, carrying her home. Checking her phone for the time, she prayed quietly that she would find the house silent and her Grandfather peacefully asleep, it was always easier when he was. The carer would have only left a couple of hours ago once he went to bed but sometimes, on bad nights, he would be up stalking the house. They were always the worst, the hardest to deal with. Turning the corner at the on the main town road, she headed to Water Wynd, taking her keys out quietly and finding the front door key. The laughter and thrill of the evening was wearing off with every step she took forward as she braced herself for what she might find. 

The front door opened quietly into the hall and she slowly closed it behind her and put her bag down to one side, standing still and listening for a moment. All seemed quiet and still, all she could hear was the soft crackle of the dying embers in the fireplace. Walking in, she slipped from the lounge room to the kitchen, pouring herself a cup of water and turning out the light. Eittie took each footstep quietly back along the hall and up the stairs, wincing as the wood underfoot creaked a little as she started her way up. Each step she took slowly, thinking over in her head of everything she had to do in the morning, put the washing on, get to the shop, make breakfast and lunch, set out a list of jobs for the carer, each of them ticking by as a mental to do list she ran through every evening. Occasionally a smile crept across her features as she thought about that night, rubbing her thumb across her fingertips, trying to bring back a sensation. As she reached the top she looked towards the door into her Grandfather’s room, just open a small way. Unable to see anything in the dark she assumed he was fast asleep and turned towards her room breathing a sigh of relief. 

Stopping into her room a moment, she took off her jacket and set the water down by her bed, debating for a moment whether to just crawl in or to wash her face. Knowing she’d regret it in the morning, she turned back out towards the bathroom, closing the door behind her and switching on the light. The towels she had hung up that morning, fresh from the laundry, were tossed in the basket and on the floor lay a half scrunched up pink post it note she had written. Sighing, she picked it up and unfolded it softly, casting her eyes over her own tired hand-writing. ‘Hold on to the rail in the shower.’ Glancing around she could see the other notes she had left still in place around the bathroom, ‘Brush your teeth’ ‘Wash your hands’ ‘Your name is Alistair. You live here.’ On the corner of the last one, she could see it had been bent with wet hands, he had looked at it. Tiredly scrunching up the discarded one, she threw it in the bin and turned to the sink, washing her face and brushing her teeth. Forgetting for a moment to be quiet, she tapped her toothbrush on the side of the sink and the sound echoed out and brought her back to her senses. 

There was a soft rustle outside the door and Eittie stopped, listening intently but nothing else sounded. For a moment she could feel the adrenaline rising through the whiskey haze and her ears almost buzzed with how had she tried to focus. For a minute she stood there, feet cold on the bathroom tile before she managed to convince herself that it had only been in her mind. Turning off the light she stepped out into the hall, body aching for the warmth and comfort of bed. Looking up to the window at the end of the hall, she only glanced the shape moving behind her for a microsecond before hard hands were on her shoulder and she was turned roughly as a voice boomed out of the darkness. ‘Who are you!? What are you doing in my house?! WHO ARE YOU?’ Eittie’s Grandfather’s grasp was hard and strong, the dig in of his fingers into her shoulders made her cry out and struggle. ‘Pa! Pa it’s Eittie! Please!’ ‘Get out of my house! GET OUT OF MY HOUSE. Skulking begging shit, get out!’ Eittie reached up, grasping at his arms and trying to pull them off of her as he struggled to move her towards the stairs. The fight caused him to move one of his hands to her wrist, yanking her across the floorboards as she tried to pull away. ‘Pa it’s Eittie! Eit! I’m your Granddaughter, Isla’s daughter! I’m Isla’s daughter!’ The name of her mother seemed to make him pause for a second but his grip didn’t loosen, she could feel her blood throbbing under the tight hold he had at her wrist. ‘Isla is dead.’ 

The confusion and sadness she could hear in his voice made Eittie’s heartbreak. ‘It’s me.. please.. turn on the light. Let me turn on the light... s-see?’ Reaching carefully and slowly across, she reached around the door jam and turned on the bathroom light again, illuminating them both. He was standing there in the same t-shirt and sweats he had worn to bed for years, his face red from effort and the fog of confusion beginning to clear in his eyes. Slowly his hand loosened on her wrist and Eittie hissed under her breath as she felt the bruises begin to form under her skin. ‘Isla?’ His voice was quiet, confused, pleading. ‘No, Pa, it’s Eittie. You need to go to bed, you’re tired. Come on..’ Trying to hold back the painful tears, she took his hand softly and rubbed his back as she lead him back to his room, helping him sit on the edge of his bed and swing his legs in, her hands shaking as she brought the blankets up, her eyes glancing over the photo frames kept by his bed, pictures of all the family crowned with post it notes with their names, her own front and centre. 

‘You’re a sweet lass, Isla.’ Eittie smiled, closing her eyes as her Grandfather’s hand came up and stroked over her hair. ‘Goodnight Pa. I’ll see you in the morning.’ Leaning down, she placed a kiss to his forehead and slipped away, biting down on her hand to stop herself making any noise as she flicked off the bathroom light and made it into her own room, her shaking hand sliding across the bar she had installed herself last Summer. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, she let herself shake out the adrenaline and panic for a moment, before she turned on the bedside lamp and looked over her wrist in the light, smoothing her thumb over the red and darkening skin. Rubbing the dents left in her shoulders by his hard fingertips, Eittie swallowed and winced in pain. Turning out the light again, she slipped onto the floor and patted her jacket pockets, pulling out her phone and putting her earphones back in, leaning against the wall and trying to sink back into the music, her eyes fixed on the door handle. 

It was the warmth of the sun that woke her up with a shock, her eyes opening to the sun flooding in and the sound of the water rushing down under the bridge not far away. Eittie’s head was exploding with a hangover but she could feel the pain and stiffness that had slipped into her bones from sleeping on the floor, her muscles still on high alert after the night before. Sitting up, she wiped her eyes on her dress, the left over mascara, scattered across her cheek from frustrated tears rubbed off on the soft polka dot material. Checking her phone and seeing it was only just past 6am, she slowly pulled herself up, her bruised wrist shaking a little with the effort. Walking slowly to the bathroom, she could just glance her Grandfather’s sleeping form through his bedroom door. Once the door was locked, Eittie turned on the shower and stood in front of the mirror and peeled off the dress, examining for any marks left elsewhere. 

There was a light yellowing bruise on her upper arm from several days ago and the fresh marks of last night were blooming under her pale skin but nothing that couldn’t be hidden. Stepping into the hot shower was pure relief for her body, her aching joints soothed under the heat and the steam and the sound covered up the majority of her thoughts, the same ones that always circled her mind the in the light of the day after bad nights. Alzheimer's was one of the cruelest of diseases, Eittie had watched it take her Grandfather day by day but even in the darkest moments like this, she could not bare to admit she needed help, that she could not continue to care for the man who had given up his life to care for her.  Even the water struggled to keep the thoughts at bay after a while and she reluctantly turned it off, standing for a moment in a shower, trying to gather the energy to face the day.