Going Home

Part 5

Josh’s immediate reaction to be by himself was partly the result of him reverting to how he’d dealt with things in the past. He’d always had to deal with this alone. He was used to working things out on his own. But turning his head and looking up at their apartment it hit him that he wasn’t alone anymore. He had Grace in his life now and he realised belatedly, that talking to her may help him work out how to handle this.

However his leaving was also prompted by the concern that feeling the way he was, he would say something to hurt her. He knew that talking to her about this would require going back over painful ground to explain more fully to her what happened. Josh looked away from their home, back down the dark street. He wasn’t sure he could do that. Opening up about it the first time was almost more than he could bear. 

But as time passes unnoticed he realised he wasn’t sure he could do it without Grace either. He certainly wasn’t getting anywhere by himself. His head hurt and he couldn’t think straight. Maybe if he talked to her he’d get a new perspective. She already knew the worst of it and she may help make things clearer. She had a way of doing that. With this thought the pain in his head eased a bit and more grateful than ever for her presence in his life, Josh got out of the car and strode back across the pavement to their apartment door.

Going Home

Part 4

Josh got into the driver’s seat of the car. But he didn’t start the engine, he didn’t know where to go, he just needed to be by himself. Still in a state of shock he leant his arms on the steering wheel as he tried to get his head around what had just happened. Having long since given up expecting to see that name come up as the caller he was unprepared for the feelings it stirred up when it did. But as soon as he saw the name on the phone it took him back to the day over fourteen years ago when he had left home. In that instant he felt the pain of losing his brother and his parent’s subsequent reaction as deeply as if it had just happened. It also brought back to the surface all the guilt he felt about that event.

Leaning his head on the steering wheel Josh considered how before that call he had thought he was finally over it. When he first left home he’d had no one to talk to about it so he’d just found a way to live with it. But with Grace he’d found a peace he had never known before. After the car accident they’d had at work, when he’d told her everything, he’d felt like a weight had been lifted off him and he thought all that pain was behind him. But with one call that he didn’t even answer he was right back where he started.

And suddenly it felt like his world was falling apart.

Living with Eczema

 Our experience of chronic atopic eczema began with our four month old son. He was our third child at that stage we believed we could cope with any problem a baby could bring. How wrong we were. This condition is totally invasive and relentless. For the sufferer, our son, it brought endless pain and frustration. For us his carers, it brought  a deep sense of failure and helplessness and to top it all off it was expensive. Not only were the treatment of his condition costly in terms of money but it also cost us sleep, time and very nearly our sanity.

Up until he was four months of age our child seemed like a perfectly normal healthy baby. But then he seemed to change overnight. He went from being a placid happy baby to one who screamed most of the day and night and would not be comforted no matter how hard we tried. He wanted to be carried all the time and would not be put down for any reason. Furthermore, he woke constantly during the night when he had previously been sleeping through.

But the first I knew we had a serious problem was one morning when I went to get him up and I was horrified to find him covered in scratches and blood all over his bedding. To combat this problem of him scratching himself at night, after trying many things without much success, we ultimately had to resort to putting splints on his arms so he couldn’t bend them . His scratching was also a problem during the day but it was easier to monitor.  For these times we taped mittens onto his hands to try and prevent him causing further injury to himself. Without the tape, he was like Houdini, he could get those mittens off in seconds, even with the tape they didn’t last long. This did however lead to an interesting phenomenon. As his hands were out of action most of the time, he became adept at using his feet to hold things. 

Our daily routine, just to keep the chronic condition under control, consisted of applying moisturiser all over his body, including his head seven times a day. In the morning this was followed by cortisone cream applied to the affected areas, which was most of his body. Next we wrapped his arms and legs in wet dressings soaked in an oil and water solution, which we then covered with crepe bandages. We also soaked his singlet in the oil solution and wrapped his torso in crepe bandages. Lastly we soaked a cotton hat for his head and dressed him. In the evening we would bath him in a lukewarm bath with more oil, and repeat the morning bandaging routine. Then we’d put him in his splints. It was heartbreaking to see him like that and to watch him squirm when lying on his back trying to relieve the itch, he was never still. When he finally went to bed at night, there was still bandages to roll for the next day.  The bandages had to be washed after each use to minimise the risk of infection, as did his clothes. The dressings were only used once and then discarded.

So to say that eczema  became our whole life is not an exaggeration. Every waking moment was filled with treating our son’s condition and trying to keep it under control. It was a soul destroying, daily routine.  On top of this was the constant worry about infection, the effect of the amount of cortisone we were using on him, his development, which virtually stalled once the eczema flared up and the money it was costing us to keep the condition under control.

However all the things we went through were of little consequence when compared to the pain he endured.  I cannot begin to imagine what it was like for him, not free for a moment from the incessant  itch. There were times when we could not see a clear patch of skin on his entire body so he would have been itchy from head to foot. 

In an effort to find out what was causing his eczema we were referred to an allergist for testing. It took several months to get an appointment and the outcome was not much help.  He was allergic to many things, including egg and peanuts but the one that was most likely causing the eczema was his allergy to dustmite.  However we were told it is impossible to eliminate dustmite completely. We could only reduce it. So now we had the likely cause of the condition and still could do little to alleviate it. 

We were lucky though. His condition improved and to this day remains under control. However the battle to achieve this was not easily won. It put an unbearable strain on our resources of time, energy, money and endurance to say nothing of the pain it caused our son and us his carers who had to watch it. However we did survive and came out of it stronger people.

Going Home

Part 3

Hearing the front door close behind Josh, Grace sank back onto the couch with her face in her hands. She was worried. Worried about Josh because it was clear something was badly wrong, but also worried about what it meant that he wouldn’t talk to her. He was clearly upset and she’d like to help but she can’t do that if he wouldn’t tell her what was happening. As she sat there thinking the sound from the TV was disturbing her thought processes, frustrated she turned it off, but the resulting silence was worse, and unable to sit still any longer she started to pace around the room. She didn’t know what to do and questions just kept coming. Should she go looking for him? But where would she look she had no idea where he went. Why wouldn’t he talk to her? Should she push him to talk or should she wait until he’s ready? Who was it who called? Why did it upset Josh so much? There were so many questions that she didn’t have the answers to and their constant circling through her thoughts was beginning to drive her crazy. Eventually, realising that she had no option but to wait until Josh came home, Grace sat down again. Once he was back she’d try and work the rest out from there

In-laws

“Welcome to my nightmare” Darcy said with a roll of her eyes in reply to her friend’s complaint about having to have dinner with her in-laws that night. The two women had been for an early morning walk and were sitting enjoying a coffee before going their separate ways and getting on with their day.

“Come on Darcy, they can’t be that bad” she’d heard this line from her friend before but had never really questioned it.
“Can’t they?” Darcy said in a harsh tone “you can have them then.”
Faith laughed “I know I complain about Blake’s parents, but they aren’t really as bad as I make out. Your’s must have some redeeming characteristics?” and as Darcy just looked at her, she raised her eyebrows and said “don’t they?”
“Not that I’ve seen so far” Darcy said with a dark expression.
“It probably doesn’t help, that Luke is an only child.”

“You think?” Darcy asked, her words laced with sarcasm. But seeing her friend’s hurt expression, she apologised “sorry Faith. I didn’t mean to take it out on you. I’m glad you have a good relationship with your in-laws.” Looking away she continued “it’s not much fun knowing your husband’s family don’t like you.”

Faith reached out and grabbed Darcy’s hand. She gave it a squeeze “I’m sure that’s not it. They couldn’t help but like you” but as Darcy just looked at her and she saw the doubt in her eyes, she added “from what you’ve told me, I just think you are two different types of people who value different things and unfortunately they don’t appreciate what is important to you. That doesn’t make either of you right or wrong, just different.”

Darcy looked at Faith. Could she be right? Is that why it felt like she was always coming up wanting in their estimation? In the past she had tried to tell herself she didn’t care, but deep down she knew that was a lie. It hurt her. 

 Grateful for her friends intelligent insight, Darcy got up and gave Faith a hug. She said “thank you.”
As Darcy stepped back Faith smiled “you’re welcome” then changing her tone, she said with a wink “right now I’ve sorted your life out, I need to go and get ready to face my own demons.”
Darcy smiled, allowing her friend to lift the mood. She said “have a great night.”
It was Faith’s turn to roll her eyes this time and grinning she said “talk to you tomorrow, bye.”
“Bye Faith” Darcy said.

 

As Darcy made her way back to the car she thought about what her friend had said. Was she right and if she was, was she guilty of the same thing? Did she not appreciate what they considered important because it was different to what she valued? As she thought about it, she was ashamed to realise she probably didn’t. She had always blamed her husband’s family for the strained relationship they shared, but now she had to admit she was at fault too. While she'd like to believe she would have accepted them for who they were if they had been willing to do the same, she did share the responsibility for the continued tension. Frustrated with herself, as she made her way home, Darcy made a decision.  She would make an effort to change her approach with her in-laws and hopefully improve the situation. Maybe if she met them half way, they’d do the same. It was worth a try.

Going Home

 Part 2

Wondering why Josh wasn’t answering the call Grace turned her head and looked at the phone in his hand. Then turning further around she looked at Josh and realised something was wrong. He was looking straight ahead and there was a haunted expression on his face. Worried Grace moved to sit up and turned right around so she was facing him. As she did the phone finally stopped ringing and Grace watched as Josh looked down at it. He seemed to be a million miles away, so trying to bring his attention back to the room she said in soft tone “Josh.”

But getting no reaction she tried again, her voice more firm this time “Josh.”

Josh looked at her and the pain on his face nearly broke her heart. Concerned about what that meant she asked “Josh what is it? Who was that calling?”

But Josh still didn’t answer. He couldn’t talk about this yet, not even to Grace. He needed to be alone to think. So standing up he looked down at her and said in a flat voice “I’m going out for a while.”

Grace was scared. She didn’t understand why he wouldn’t talk to her. She’d never seen him like this. He’d never been particularly communicative, but this was different. In the past while he wouldn’t talk to anyone else he’d always opened up to her. Now though, he seemed so distant. Touching his arm she tried again to reach him “Josh what’s going on?”

But Josh needed to get out of there now. He knew shutting her out was going to hurt her but if he stayed he may hurt her more, so shrugging off her hand he said in a gruff tone “leave it Grace, I’ll see you later.” And picking up his keys he walked out the front door.

Going home

This is a longish fanfic I wrote a while ago based on the charcter of Josh from the police drama show Rush.

Part 1

 One evening after work Josh and Grace were watching tv. But Josh’s mind was not on what they are watching. As usual it was on the woman in his arms. Grace was curled up next to him and he was idly running his hand up and down her arm. Her skin was so soft and he never got tired of touching her. No one else had ever affected him like she did. Just touching her innocently like this was enough to make him crazy. But as he was considering what he was going to do to her once the movie was over his phone rang. Frowning, wondering who would be ringing him at this time of night, Josh picked it up off the coffee table and checked the caller ID before answering. But as soon as he saw the name on the screen he stopped moving. He didn’t answer the call he just sat there letting the phone ring out.

Love Hurts

“Love hurts, ever heard that phrase?” Dean asked in a conceited tone, unconcerned about whether people seated at the surrounding tables in the restaurant heard him. He just wanted this over so he could leave. He hadn’t wanted to come in the first place but Liz had said he had to do the right thing and tell her in person. He didn’t agree. He didn’t owe Kelly anything. It had only ever been a bit of fun for him. Could he help it if she took it more seriously? But to keep the peace he’d said he’d go. 

Tears shimmered in Kelly’s eyes as she looked at the man she had been seeing for six months but now realised she didn’t even know. Of course she had heard the phrase he’d just used in response to her question about why he was breaking things off without warning, but she hadn’t truly understood what it meant until that minute. At the age of twenty five, she’d been lucky so far, she hadn’t suffered any heart ache to speak of before, not like this. 

But worse than the pain of finding he didn’t care about her, was the shock of his deliberate cruelty. As she looked into his eyes she could see the expectation. He was waiting to see her reaction. He wanted to see her pain. However, if in the last few minutes she had found she didn’t know him, she now realised he didn’t have the first clue about her either. If his intention was to leave her devastated, to watch her cry, he was about to be disappointed. She would not give him the satisfaction of seeing how much he’d hurt her. 

Squaring her shoulders she lifted the linen napkin off her lap and folding it with steady hands she placed in on the table in front of her. She got to her feet and picking up her bag, looked down at him, meeting his eyes squarely. Her eyes hard, his now confused. Then forcing herself to smile she said in a voice that showed nothing of what she was feeling, “thanks for the lesson Dean but I hate to tell you, it was a wasted effort. See you round.” As she turned away she saw his jaw drop and a bitter smile flitted across her face. However before she had made it to the door it was replaced with a mask of utter pain as the tears she could no longer hold back, began to fall.

Fear

It hangs like a dark spectre over everything. It permeates everything she does. There is no laughter, no fun, no relief. It sits like a weight on her chest, bearing down on her, trying to crush her. 

Her family can't stay at home. He knows where they live. They sleep huddled together on the lounge room floor of her mother's tiny one bedroom flat. She needs to feel her kids close to be able to sleep now.

She doesn’t answer the phone at home anymore. It is unplugged from the wall. Her old mobile is turned off. She has a new phone, no one knows the number. 

During the day she goes back to their house and lets herself in, quickly turning off the alarm before resetting it once she is inside. She used to love this house, it was her sanctuary. Not anymore. It doesn’t feel safe now. Nowhere does. Moving quickly she gathers what they need for that night. She never lingers long.

She randomly changes her pick up point for the kids after school, always worrying they will forget where she'd told them that morning. She tries not to show them how scared she is, but she knows they feel it. They have been woken from their bed in the middle of the night too many times. They are used to fleeing at a moment’s notice now. They no longer question it. They don't argue with each other anymore. They barely talk. She'd give anything to have to referee one of the fights between them she once hated so much.

Every day she worries about her husband. He knows where her husband works and has visited him there before. She is terrified the next time he comes, he will do what he promised.

She tries not to cry because she knows it hurts her man. He wants to be able to protect them but there is nothing he can do, nothing anyone can do. 

As each day passes it becomes harder for her to remember what life was like before. But she knows she wants it back. Every morning she wakes praying that this will be the day it ends. She wants life to be boring. She wants to be normal. She wants more than anything not to be afraid.

She is so tired. She doesn’t know how long she can hang on. Day after day she pushes herself to keep going, drawing on a strength she didn’t know she had, all the time wondering where it will end. What more will she lose. She has given up asking why. She knows it is a waste of time. There is no reason to it. It just is. No matter what happens now, she will never be the same.

As time goes on, she tries not to give up hope. She holds on to the belief that one day it will be done. One day the police will catch him and it will be over. And then she will be able to rest, then she’ll be thankful for all the simple things she took for granted before and peace will be hers. But for now, she just keeps moving, fear her constant companion. No relaxation, no respite, no reprieve.  

Carly Story

This is the final part of this story. 

Carly was so terrified, she didn’t react for a second. She couldn’t believe what was happening. It only took two tries for the window mechanism to give and the window was down. The man was already reaching in to unlock the door and within seconds, she was sure he’d be pulling her out. She knew she had to do something now, once he had her out of the car she had no hope. Then without any awareness of having moved she heard him cry out. Shocked she looked down and saw the long metal car key, still gripped in her hand, protruding from his forearm. It had penetrated his jacket and shirt and gone into his skin. “You bitch” he yelled as he withdrew his arm.

But Carly hardly heard him, taking advantage of his automatic reaction to the pain she’d inflicted, she moved. She shoved the key into the ignition and turned on the engine. Then throwing the car into gear she put her foot down. Her whole focus was on fleeing. However as the car started to move, Carly was horrified to see the man reach out and grab the door. She screamed and spun the wheel as she reached the end of the row. But still he held on. Blood was running down his hand from below the cuff of his shirt and was being spread over the inside of the door in his effort to retain his grip. She wanted to pry his fingers off but she didn’t dare take her hand off the wheel. If she hit something the car would stop and she’d be stuck. So she just continued to drive and finally when she turned to go down the ramp to the exit, the man’s hand slipped and he was flung off, hitting the ground with a thud. Crying out with relief, Carly didn’t look back, she just kept driving. Even when she reached the street, she hardly paused.  She just pulled straight out onto the road and hoped that nothing was coming.

  At first Carly drove fast, not caring where she went, her only thought was to get as far away from the carpark and him as possible. But as she sped along the dark streets, she became aware of a low moaning noise that sounded like someone in pain. Terrified for a minute that the man had somehow got into the car, Carly was shocked to discover that the noise was coming from her. She bit her bottom lip, and tried to stop the emotion that was rising within her.  Just getting away wasn’t the solution, she needed to do something.

So moving with direction now, she headed for her local police station to report the incident. The man needed to be found and stopped before he did it again. She knew she’d been lucky, even if she didn’t feel it at the moment. Minutes later she pulled over outside her destination. Turning off the engine she left the keys where they were, and clambered across the centre console before climbing out the passenger side.  She didn’t want to touch the driver’s door where his hands had been, she didn’t want anything to do with it. She didn’t want anything to do with the car at all now.  However on her feet for the first time since the attack, her legs felt like jelly as she walked. She stumbled into the station, and taking one look at the man in uniform behind the desk, burst into tears.

Carly story

Here's the next installment of the piece I posted earlier. Initally it was only an excersise and I didn't intend continuing it but as the next part presented itself, I couldn't help myself.

Carly’s head snapping around, she stared at the man bending next to her car and looking in the window at her. He was clean shaven, with brown eyes and short brown hair and given how far he had to bend down, she knew he was tall. Dressed like a business man in a conservative grey suit, white shirt and grey tie, Carly guessed he probably worked in one of the offices above the carpark just like she did. However she was certain she’d never seen him around.  He was a powerfully built man. She could see the muscles in his arms bulging where the fabric of his jacket was pulled taught across his bicep. As she looked at him and deliberated about what to do, her heart was racing. She didn’t know him and was therefore wary about winding the window down to find out what he wanted. There was no way she was going unlock the door. Nervous, she looked around, but the carpark was deserted. Taking a deep breath she lifted her hand and rested her finger on the button for the window as the man continued to wait.  Finally lowering the window just an inch, she was disturbed to see his hand come up and rest on the top of the glass, his thick fingers protruding into her vehicle up to the first knuckle.

“Yes” she said, her voice a little higher than normal as in an unconscious action, she moved her body away from the door a little.

“Hi” the man said in a friendly sounding voice “sorry if I startled you. I was just wondering if you could do me a favour?”

Even more wary now, Carly said “what is it?”

He smiled and looked a little sheepish, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. They remained flat and hard as he said “I’ve come back to the car without enough money to pay for the parking. Could you let me have a couple of dollars? I can get it back to you if you tell me where I can send it.”

Carly just looked at him for a minute. She didn’t really want to help him, despite his friendly manner, he made her feel uneasy but she didn’t want to say no either, in case he took offence. With no one else around, she didn’t want a confrontation. And there was no way she would be giving him any details to send her the money. What she wanted was to get out of there, so deciding that the easiest way to do that was to just give him what he wanted she turned away to reach for her bag on the floor of the passenger seat. But as she looked away she caught the sight of movement out of the corner of her eye and with dismay she saw the man’s other hand come up and yank down on the window.

What a day!

Thanks to Westfields Doncaster website

Shopping with two teenage daughters, hmm, why does the word torture come to mind. Throw in a boyfriend, a brother, a girlfriend, and a husband and you’d be justified in questioning my sanity.

We had tried this sort of venture many times before, but it had always ended up in a screaming match, generally with me being the one doing the screaming. But on this occasion things were different. I’m not sure if it was because the planets were aligned or whether we were being rewarded for some combined accruement of good works, but whatever
the cause for a change it was a pleasant experience.

On arrival at the modern and stylish shopping centre daughter number two headed off with her girlfriend to roam the many rows of shops. Daughter number one, headed off with the boyfriend to build a bear.......don’t ask. So this left my husband and I to amuse our youngest child, a preteen boy who hates even the word shopping. Well after feeding him, even he happily strolled along with us. If he did happen to mention how long something was taking, this complaint was kept at bay by saying we were heading in the direction of EB games, his favourite store, which we did get to, eventually.

And if all this wasn’t enough reason to celebrate, when it was time to leave, both daughters, had their phone on and actually answered them. That is unheard of. So while we waited for them to arrive at our meeting point my husband and I even managed to grab a coffee before we set off home with everybody happy.

A truly remarkable day.

Writing Exercise - Carly story

The following is the result of a ten minute writing exercise. I created a character, gave her an age, an occupation and a name. Then wrote for ten minutes without stopping. I have since used a similar scenario in a fanfic scene.

Carly hurried through the empty parking garage. She had just finished work, late again and of course now, there was nobody around. She didn’t like leaving this late, it always made her nervous coming out to her car when the area was so deserted. The place gave her the creeps at the best of times, with its low ceiling and hidden corners.  But after dark it was worse. The lighting was inadequate and the sound of her heels striking the concrete reverberated though the emptiness like gunshots.  Just entering the area caused the hairs on the back of her neck to stand up and like always, she couldn’t shake the feeling she was being watched.

Opening her bag she searched for her keys as she hurried through the rows of parked cars. Not watching where she was walking, she cracked her shin hard on a tow bar of a black four wheel drive and cried out before she can stop herself.  Biting her bottom lip to stifle any further noise, she absorbed the pain and looked over her shoulder for the hundredth time.  She didn’t stop. Her leg was burning and she could feel a bruise starting to form but she wasn’t going to look at it now. There would be time for that once she was safe inside the car.

Almost running now as she neared her vehicle, her heart was beating so hard it was painful. Part of her felt ridiculous for giving in to the as yet baseless concerns, and she tried to tell herself there was nothing to worry about. At the age of thirty she felt she shouldn’t be reacting like a frightened kid anymore, but the fear gripping her was so powerful it over rode everything else.

She had reached her car now and pushed the button on the key to unlock the door. However her hands were shaking so much she dropped the keys as she tried to open the door. Tears threatened, she was so close, but due to her own clumsiness, she had prolonged the agony.  She cursed herself as she bent down to pick up the keys from the ground, breaking a nail on the concrete in the process. Without pause to inspect yet more damage to her person, she straightened and opening the door, clambered inside pushing the central locking with a shaking hand.

Finally feeling more secure Carly collapsed on the steering wheel, her head resting on her arms, as she tried to get her breathing under control. Even though she wanted nothing more than to leave straight away, she needed to be a hell of a lot calmer before she could attempt to drive anywhere. At the moment she was bound to hit something if she tried. As her heart rate slowed she decided she couldn’t do this anymore, she had to tell her boss either she didn’t work back, or someone had to escort her to her car. This nightly ritual was playing too much havoc on her nervous system, not to mention the damage she was incurring to her body. She moved her leg, looking along its length. She couldn’t see much in the low light but was able to make out the lump marring the straight line of her shin. Sighing, she sat up. Ready to go now, she was just inserting the key in the ignition to start the car when there was a knock on her window and she nearly jumped out of her skin.