Soothed

“We can’t help everyone, but everyone can help someone.”

- Ronal Reagan

For a long time Anaelle merely held Aspen; long after her sobs had ceased and her tears had dried”. Throughout that time Anaelle was thinking, imagining. What if this happened to Lealia, Louis and Evangeline? What if her own husband, the man she loved, had burnt them, bruised them, cut them, become the source of their nightmares. With every thought her heart ached agonisingly as she grew more and more angry. Angry at the vile man who had drawn so much blood and torn apart beautiful young girl’s innocence and purity.

But while Anaelle’s mind was filled with fury, Aspen’s mind was filled with memories. Memories of a burn. Memories of her hair falling to the floor. Memories of a white light. Aspen remembered, even through her daze, how bright and pure it was. Then she recalled the brown eyes that had looked so deeply into hers. The brown eyes that seemed so kind, so gentle and seemed to filled with grief. In fact it was as if the woman had seen everything and that she cared. Lastly, Aspen remembered the feeling of being in the woman’s arms and that for a moment the pain was gone.

Who was She?

Anaelle’s arm slipped from her shoulders, and Aspen found herself missing the embrace’s comfort and warmth “I think it is time to clean you up, my darling” Anaelle said, pushing herself from where she had sunk into the assortment of cushions “I will be back,”

Aspen felt pure terror flood into her, it burned. What if she doesn’t come back? What is she abandons me?

“I promise,” Anaelle added, a lips curving into a small smile, reassuring Aspen almost instantly

The woman left the room, her pink robe billowing around her ankles. In all of the years she and Lealia had been friends she had never once met Lealia’s family. She had heard about them of course but never seen or spoken to them. She never went Lealia’s house for a sleepover where they would talk about each other’s crushes and watched movies late into the night, bowls of popcorn long since empty. She didn’t visit the hospital when Lealia’s baby sister was born. Never once got to thank Mrs Zhang for all the lunches, jumpers and surprisingly paid for excursions and textbooks.

Mr Thomas wouldn’t let her.

And now it seemed like none of it mattered to Anaelle. It didn’t stop her from caring about her. Didn’t stop her being amazingly kind to her. It didn’t stop Anaelle from wanting to help her. And for a little while Aspen didn’t need to look after herself, she didn’t need to be scared.

A soft click of the door opening and closing again interrupted Aspen and her thoughts. Anaelle had come back. Just as she had promised. In her hands, Anaelle held a pile of cloths, a tube of ointments and a tub of slightly steaming water. Carefully she sat beside Aspen, placing the tub at her feet.

“Now,” she began softly as if she was talking to a child “I’m going to wash the blood away. I’m going to start with your scalp. It might hurt a little bit but I’ll be as gentle as I can. But if it hurts too much and I stop, okay?”

Aspen nodded and turned so that her back was facing Anaelle. 

“Do you want Lealia to come in, ma belle, and she can hold your hand?” Anaelle asked, while reaching down to soak the cloth with warm water.

Aspen shock her head furiously, not wanting to see her best friend, who seemed so vulnerable all of a sudden, to see her like this.

“That’s alright, my darling” she said reassuringly

Anaelle rose her hand slowly and pressed the wet cloth to Aspen’s scalp and began to gently wipe away the dried blood. The warmth of the water on her scalp and the feeling of the soft cloth dabbing gently against her skin felt wonderful and Aspen sighed in contentment.  

Beforehand Aspen’s scalp was hidden slightly from plain view, but now as Anaelle saw it from up close, tears began to drop down her eyelashes, as she saw the tiny deep cuts that covered almost every inch of her scalp.

How could a father inflict so much pain on his daughter, with such cruel intentions?

Finally the task was done and Anaelle bent down to swap her blood soaked cloth for a clean one. While Anaelle’s gaze was elsewhere, Aspen raised a tentative hand to her scalp. She felt tears threatening to escape as she felt the skin that was completely void of hair. For so long, Aspen had always thought that her hair was the only beautiful thing about her. The only thing people noticed about her, that they didn’t laugh at her for. And now it was gone.

“It will grow, Aspen darling” Anaelle’s voice whispered kindly “and you don’t need it to look absolutely beautiful!”

Aspen turned, as the hand on her shoulder motioned her too and came face to face with Anaelle’s tender, brown eyes.

“I’m going to cheek now,” Anaelle said “be brave, ma belle”

Aspen nodded and braced herself for the pain that would surely follow. Lealia had once told Aspen that Anaelle had been a doctor before she had decided to become a full time mum for her children. So as she raised her hand to press the wet cloth to Aspen’s burnt cheek, her small hand did not shake or tremble. Instead it remained completely steady as she dabbed the silky cloth against Aspen’s horrendous wound. Tears sprung in Aspen’s eyes as the pain seemed almost as excruciating as how it felt when the poker had been held against her cheek. As soon as Lealia’s Mum saw the tears she pulled away, murmuring desperate apologies and pleas to the silently sobbing girl. Incredible determination shone in Aspen’s face as she captured the older woman’s wrist and pulled it back to her cheek and held it there until Anaelle began to hesitantly clean her cheek again. 

“There,” Anaelle proclaimed, pride and relief filling the sound of her voice. She dropped the cloth in the tub at their feet and exchanged it for a tube of ointment, which she put on her finger. As she smeared the cool ointment onto the newly clean cheek, Aspen’s face became contorted with pain and her fists clenched into fists where they lay in her lap.

After five minutes a bandage was hiding the horrid wound and the same ointment underneath it was smeared thoroughly onto the burn on her arm. With great uncertainty Anaelle spoke again “Mon amour, if you are ready I think I would be a good idea to report this to the police.”

Suddenly Aspen’s mind was completely empty of everything except terror. Obviously Aspen’s complete and utter terror had reflected unmistakably on her pale face, as Anaelle rushed to reassure her.

“You don’t have to, mon ange!” she said hurriedly, placing her hand Aspen’s unbandage cheek and caressing it softly with her thumb “I will not force you my darling. Nor will my husband, or Lealia! You don’t need to be afraid.”