62. Poppy Wells

62

Poppy Wells

V ienna had patched up every open cut and scar on my body, and somehow, I’d felt comfortable enough to let her. Except, the entire time, I couldn’t help but wonder if she knew—knew just how I’d gotten those wounds. Knew exactly what my own mother had done to me. If she did, she didn’t let it show, and that just made my anxiety spiral even more so than it already was.

“The most important part is to rest, okay?” Vienna said softly, “and if you need to cough, you can hold this pillow against your chest to lessen the pain. But it’s important to try and breathe as normally as you can, yeah? You’ll be grand in no time, sweetie. I just know it.”

Hugging the pillow to my chest, I bared a smile. “T-thank y-you.”

Vienna returned my smile and started to pack away the medical kit when she hesitated, turning back to me. “I…Poppy, I know this is not my place to ask but I just…you’re okay? At home, I mean. No one…no one’s hurting you or anything? Because if they are, I promise you, Poppy, I can help you.”

She knows. She knows. She knows.

My heart rate fucking skyrocketed.

“I—”

The words were stuck in the back of my throat.

I couldn’t get them out.

I couldn’t breathe.

I couldn’t …

“Hey, sweetie, you’re okay,” Vienna hushed, hopping up onto the countertop next to me and wrapping an arm around my back. Her fingers brushed lazy strokes up and down my arm. Over the bandages, carefully and delicately. “You’re okay, sweet girl. I’ve got you.”

The boulder sitting on my chest started to loosen.

Muscles in my throat started to relax.

Air filled my lungs and I breathed .

Yet Vienna stayed by my side, quietly comforting me as my body worked through the panic in its own time.

“Nothing’s going to hurt you in here, Poppy. I promise you that.”

I sniffled, letting my head fall against her skin. “You’re a great mom, you know?”

I wish you were mine…

She laughed, the sound vibrant and comforting. “Well, aren’t you just the sweetest, thank you.”

Squeezing my eyes shut, I took a deep breath. “I know…I know the words you want me to say but I can’t…I can’t get them out.”

I needed to scratch. I needed to scratch. I needed. I needed. I needed—

“I’m going to tell you a story, okay? And it starts with a little girl who dared to dream,” Vienna took in a deep breath, her body stilling against mine. “Once upon a time, Poppy, lived a little girl on the Amalfi coast who dreamed with every thread of hope sewn into her very bones. She grew up like a princess, servants waiting on her every second of the day, fetching her every desire and making her every wish come true. But this little girl, she didn’t care for the fancy jewels or the doll houses as big as castles. She just wanted to dance. Her ballet shoes were her most favorite possession, and every night after her maids had bid her goodnight and the candles flickering in the hallway began to burn out, the little girl slipped out of bed, put on her favorite ballet slippers, and crept past the guards posted up and down the hallway until she reached the fountain at the very center of garden. With only the moonlight shining down from above her, the little girl danced and danced to her hearts content.”

“What happened to her?” I asked. “The little girl.”

Vienna sighed. “The little girl’s parents were never really in her life, Poppy. To the outside world, they were one happy family, admired but also…feared. Her father, you see, he wasn’t a nice man. Whilst he was vicious and merciless, her mother was cold and distant. Neither one of them had any time to spare to spend with their daughter, and instead threw her to the maids to look after. They may have been good people to everyone else, but they weren’t good parents. At least, not to her. But after time, they began…they began hurting her. At first, they started to take away the things and people she loved as a way of gaining control, then they began using other ways of disciplining her…the little girl, she didn’t want to follow in their footsteps, Poppy. She wanted to leave to New York and become a ballerina, the greatest one the world would ever see. But once they found out, they destroyed that too.” She took a steadying breath. “They…they broke her legs, Poppy. The little girl would never dance again. And after she came of age, they looked among their circle of elite to find her a suitable match to fulfill her dutiful right as heir. She decided the night her engagement was to be announced that she had to run away. Even if she couldn’t dance anymore, she would find something more in the world than what they wanted for her. Because she realized they didn’t love her, Poppy. Not really. They only loved what she could offer them. That night, she packed everything she cherished into a rucksack she’d borrowed from the kitchen staff, snuck out of her bedroom window, climbed down the pillar, and ran as far and as fast as her little legs could carry her. And when she reached the dock, she snuck onto the last ferry of the night and never looked back.”

“Why did you tell me that story?” I asked in a small voice.

Vienna smiled softly. “Because I—” She cleared her throat. “ The little girl, she wasn’t loved at home. It was quite the opposite, actually. She learnt how to sew her own stitches by the time she was only six years old. How to cover bruises so no one outside would know what was going on within those walls. And after she escaped and made it to New York, she decided that she was going to spend the rest of her life helping others. Ones who faced the same challenges as her but could not see a way out.”

“Like me,” I whispered.

Vienna said nothing, but I knew she silently agreed.

“They love me…my parents, I mean.” I cleared my throat. “They do. In their own way…”

My mind trailed off in thought.

I couldn’t even convince myself of that anymore.

“It’s okay if they don’t, you know?”

I looked to her, my brows pinched. “It…is?”

Vienna sighed softly. “Not everyone has the ability to love. Some people simply love too much and some simply too little. You’ll meet both types of people throughout your life, Poppy, you just have to decide who to give your love to—someone who will take and take from you, or someone who will give you every ounce back again.” Her eyes drifted to the bandages covering my arms. “People who love you wouldn’t hurt you, sweetie. Not like that. Never like that.”

My mother took from me.

And when I had nothing left to give,

she still took.

And that…that wasn’t love.

I…I kept making excuses for her—her behavior, her actions…

That wasn’t love, either.

And what she did to me…

I’d remember that night for the rest of my life.

But she wouldn’t even think twice about it.

I held out hope that somewhere, down inside of her, there was a person capable of loving, someone who was really just struggling and needed a lifeline…but now, I was sure.

That was just who she was and I…I had to accept that before I got hurt even more.

Before I let her hurt me more than she already had.

“Come on, sweet girl,” Vienna said gleefully, hopping down from the counter, brushing her brightening blond hair over her shoulder. “Let’s go bake that desert, mm?”

“Okay,” I managed to smile, sliding off the countertop with a wince. Placing the pillow down, I placed my hand in her outstretched palm. “Let’s do this.”

And after multiple hours of cracked eggs on the floor, flour on our clothes, and snacking on the chocolate more than we used it in the desert, we finally made the Salame De Chocolate cake. And boy did it suck .

I never knew people could have this much fun doing something as simple as baking. The vinyl spun around the record player, Vienna singing along wistfully, and my belly was so full of laughter I was so sure it would burst.

It partially resembled what it was supposed to look like.

I guess…if you squinted…maybe…

Yikes my ancestors would be rolling in their graves if they saw that thing. Sorry!

“I, uh, think it looks good?” I said before biting down on my lips clearly not making it any better.

Vienna, however, just softly squeezed my shoulders from behind, looking down at the monstrosity we made. I couldn’t even tell you if that thing was edible or not.

“We smashed it, of course,” she laughed, shaking her head. “I’m sure Lia won’t mind that it’s slightly…deformed. After all, like Jakson always tells her when her own baking projects don’t go as planned, it’s the taste that counts!”

“That’s a very positive look on the situation, and very, very Jakson,” I laughed along with her.

“I love that kid, you know. God knows those parents do absolutely nothing to help that poor boy. You know, the last time they even visited him was last year at Christmas? They missed his birthday this year, and it certainly has not been the first time that’s happened. I just wish I could walk into that mansion and bundle him up in my arms and keep him. Show him the love he deserved to have growing up, you know?”

I kept quiet, processing everything. I knew there was something up with Jakson, something more than he was letting on, but I didn’t think it was…

“I’m sure he appreciates you,” I hurried to say, because I definitely did .

“That’s sweet of you to say, Poppy, thank you. Him, Lia, Jasper, you …I just want to keep you all bundled up in here, safe from this horrible world we live in. I know they say all that about how pain makes you stronger, but you were all only kids, you didn’t need to be strong. Not like that, anyway.”

I turned away, counting to ten in my head to stop myself from crying. Again. What was it with the Ridge family and having such a way with words? And how did they both manage to make me cry so easily?

I shoved the thoughts down deep inside of me.

Locked them up and threw away the key.

“Poppy—” she consoled, gently reaching out as if to place her hand on my shoulder.

I flinched.

The eyes of my mother flashed before me.

I remembered it all too well.

Vienna’s saddened eyes met mine, a soft sort of understanding shining within them. I didn’t want to know what she saw when she looked at me—all the smudges of purple and hues of blue that decorated my skin like the tattooed kiss of a butterfly’s wing.

Such a hideous little creature. Such a disappointment .

Would that be how it would be for the rest of my life? To be scared of the simple flesh of another? Was this just another way in which I was…broken?

“Oh, sweetie,” she smiled softly, tears pricking the corners of her eyes. “Jasper, my boy, he didn’t speak a word about what you went through last night—only that if I tried to take you away from him, he would tear apart the world to get you back. He’s always been the kind of person who felt too much, even as a child. He reminds me so much of his father every passing day—always wanting to be everything for everyone all at once at the expense of his own happiness.”

She paused then, eyes closing for the briefest of moments. Only then did I realize she was trying to hold back tears, trying to be strong for me , but if there was one thing I knew about the Ridge family, it was that true strength stemmed from vulnerability. They lent on each other. They found strength within one another.

They were a family I found myself longing to be a part of .

“When I first met his father, it was during a period of my life I long to forget about and leave behind me, but he…he refused to leave my side until I saw the beauty in my scars the same way he did. It took time, a lot of time actually, but gradually, I came to terms with the girl I had lost and the girl I had become, and suddenly the darkness didn’t seem so scary anymore. He was my universe, Poppy. I was blind to any future where he was not by my side. But even I was powerless when the universe decided that our time together had run out. He saved me, Poppy, in every way I possibly could have been saved, and there isn’t a day that goes by where I am not grateful for the kindness he showed me on that first day and for every day that followed. I guess…” She looked at me then, gently holding out her hand to me to take.

She was giving me a choice .

For once in my life, I could choose.

And she had given that to me.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is, even though I don’t know the whole story, I recognize the signs and the bruises and the look of pure, unyielding terror in your eyes. I lived half of my life in fear, not of the unknown, but under the very roof that was supposed to protect me from it, and I think you might resonate with that too. You will always have a choice with me, Poppy. You will never have to do anything you don’t want to do. You deserve a future where you get to choose your own path and make your own decisions. Gosh, Poppy…you deserve it all.”

Tears welled in my eyes as the corners of my lips trembled.

I placed my hand in hers.

And I made that decision for myself .

“Thank you…just thank you ,” I whispered, fearing the stability of my own voice.

With a soft smile, she opened her arms, giving me another choice. A small laugh trickled from my lips as salty tears patterned my cheeks in a ray of constellations, dripping from the corners of my eyes. I stepped into her embrace, and as I did, Vienna delicately threaded her fingers through my curls.

I was about to speak up when she said, “Don’t worry, sweetie, Jasper told me all about your curls and what not to do because he knows you hate it. That poor boy wears his heart on his sleeve when it comes to you.”

The mere thought made sobs shatter my throat, spilling out of me as her motherly touch sewed together every broken thread inside my body.

I didn’t deserve Jasper Ridge and part of me couldn’t help but think I never would.

My voice broke. “What if I don’t deserve more?”

“Oh, my sweet girl,” she whispered, hugging me that little bit tighter, “you do. I promise you do.”

After a moment, I stepped backwards. Vienna used the pad of her thumb to once again clean up the mess of tears my face had become. And just like last time, I held my breath because for some reason, I didn’t want it to end.

Sighing wistfully, she clapped her hands together. “Come on then, Poppy. Let’s go and drop off these treats. Maybe we can stop by Sunny’s hut on the way back and see if they have any of their delicious signature smoothie bowls!”

I smiled. “I’d…I’d love that.”

After getting changed into some more appropriate clothes to be seen out in public, courtesy of Jasper’s mom, we placed the desert, if it could even be called that , inside the container and headed outside.

I took one step off the porch and onto the pavement before I stopped dead in my tracks.

“M-mom?” I gaped, finding myself already stepping backwards towards the safety of Jasper’s house.

As my mother angrily marched towards me, I caught a glimpse of those familiar green eyes in the driver’s seat of a bright red truck across the street.

No, no, no, no…

“Where have you been, you stupid, stupid girl?”

I gulped as she grabbed onto my wrist, sending an excruciating wave of pain up my arm making me wince. The bandages began to tear.

“ Get. Off. Me! ” I screamed, attempting to tug myself free of her grasp, only to be met with her palm slapping me clean across the face. My entire body flinched, recoiling backwards away from her, just as I heard someone start yelling from behind me.

Not just someone— Vienna .

“Don’t ever hit one of my kids again, you savage, raging bitch !” Jasper’s mom yelled as she marched down the porch steps and towards us, a fierce sort of fire burning in her gaze and radiating from each of her strides.

Her kids.

Jakson, Jasper, Lia and… me .

She—I—

“Who even are you?” My mother sneered, “This doesn’t concern you.”

“If it’s about that young girl right there, then it damned- fucking -well does.”

“Who? Poppy ?” She laughed. Why? Because the thought of someone caring for me was a concept so foreign to her.

“No, your daughter .”

My mother reeled backwards almost as if she’d been hit clean across the face. Back in the truck, my father honked the horn three times, clearly growing impatient with every passing second.

“Hurry the fuck up, Evelyn! I haven’t got all day, just grab the brat and let’s get the fuck outta of this place.”

I flinched then at the sound of his booming voice and so did my mom—Vienna, however, didn’t even bat an eyelash at him, and it struck me then just how deeply those two people, who were supposed to be my parents, had scarred me.

Ruined me. Broken me.

My mother stepped backwards again, and part of me deep down couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for her because I realized then I might not be the only one who was terrified of him.

But she loved him. She was wholly convinced that he was the love of her life so why, why , was she afraid…

In a blink of an eye, my mother hooked her fingers underneath the fabric of my hoodie and began dragging my body backwards. All the air in my throat constricted as the fabric began to strangle me as she hurried over to the tuck, dragging me with her like some broken doll.

“That’s it, woman. Hide behind that pussy of a husband of yours,” Vienna sneered, running after me, reaching out her hand.

I couldn’t reach…I couldn’t…

I was beginning to realize that there was a fiery, protective side to Jasper’s mom too, as well as the sweet woman I had met just a few hours earlier. Part of me, deep down, couldn’t hide the feeling of envy wrapping around my heart like a vine of ivy.

Why couldn’t my mom be like her? Why couldn’t she defend and protect me like that?

How was it that an almost stranger had done her job ten times better than she ever had in her entire life?

“What-fucking- ever ,” my mom cackled before grabbing my arm, sending a shooting pain down my entire body. “We’re going , Poppy.”

She was defending me. Vienna Ridge was defending me to my own mother.

I stood there speechless. Unmoving, despite the persistent efforts of my mother—my own mother who had never loved me a day in her life.

“No!” I yelled, fighting her touch. Fighting her like I should’ve done before. In a desperate last attempt, I turned back towards Jasper’s mom with tears in my eyes as I begged, “don’t let them take me, please! Please, help me!”

Her grip tightened on my bare flesh, nails digging into my skin as she seethed, “shut up you stupid girl. Stop being dramatic and making a scene!”

Don’t let them take me.

Don’t give up on me.

Please.

“For god sake, Poppy,” she snarled, hitting me clean across the cheek. My skin burned as she reeled her hand backwards, no hint of regret or horror on her face.

“You bitch !” That sight was all it took for Jasper’s mom to march over and pull me out of her grip, hiding me behind her, almost like she was shielding me from my mother.

“You don’t ever get to lay another fucking finger on that girl, do you understand me, woman?” There was no hint of mercy on her face as she said those words—no hint of regret about protecting me.

“Who even are you?” My mom squealed as Vienna gawked at her like she was only now realizing just how insignificant and far down the list of priorities I was for my own mother.

“You are a despicable person and an even worse mother. If you attempt, or even think about hitting my little girl again—”

My mother scoffed. “Your little girl? I’ll think you’ll find she is my—”

“No,” Vienna interrupted her, silencing her with only a glance. “ My little girl, I will end you, woman. Do you understand me, or do you need that sick bastard of a husband to spell it out for you?”

I audibly gasped as soon as those words left her mouth, and from the gaping look my mother was giving her, she was just as shocked as I was.

“Do you understand me?” Jasper’s mom repeated, not backing down from this.

“You can’t take her from me!” My mother snarled. “She is my kid, my daughter!”

“Oh, you sure could’ve fooled me!” Vienna scoffed at the complete hypocrisy of that statement. I was a lot of things to her, but a daughter was never one of them.

Only when I noticed the sets of eyes peeking at us from behind blinds, and the gathering of people stopping on the sidewalk to watch the shit show go down, did I realize that both my mom and Jasper’s were yelling at each other back and forth about me.

It had taken one person to question my mother about me for her to finally attempt to even claim she cared about me. The thought made me sick to my stomach, along with the growing crowd that was raising my anxiety levels with every passing second.

“I’ll go,” I whispered, and suddenly, all the shouting stopped. Each swallow made my throat feel tighter than before as each gulp of air seemed further and further out of reach. I’d do anything to get them all from staring at me. At us. At the scene they were making.

To stop my family from becoming the town’s favorite source of news and gossip once again.

No matter what it costed me, even if that ended up being my life…

Jasper’s mom turned around, putting her back to my mother without even hesitating to do so, and said, “Poppy—”

“Beat it,” my mother seethed, interrupting her before she could say anything more. “She said she’s leaving, now get lost before I call the cops on you for taking my daughter hostage without my consent!”

Shoving Vienna aside, my mother grasped tightly onto my wrist and started dragging me back towards the truck.

This time, though, it wasn’t me who stopped her, it was Jasper’s mom .

Clutching onto my wrist softly, she knelt down and whispered, “you will always have a choice in your life, Poppy. Always . Never forget that, my sweet girl.” With one last gentle squeeze, she added, “We’ll come and get you, Poppy. I promise you. Just hold on for a little bit longer. Just keep fighting for that little bit more.”

I turned her words over and over again inside my head as she became just another blur in the distance, a reflection in the sealed truck windows. As the road beneath me started to move, and the houses down Jasper’s street began to fall away into the distance, I curled my legs up against my chest and buried my head between them, letting my tears silently roll down my skin.

Just keep fighting for that little bit more.

And I would—for her, for Jasper, and mostly for myself. I wouldn’t give up. I wouldn’t ever stop fighting, even though I knew it was fruitless.

I would be back inside that house, those walls…

I didn’t think I could make it out a second time.

We’ll come and get you, Poppy. I promise you .

I recalled her words over and over again, taking comfort in the thought of them, because that was all they’d ever be—just a comforting thought, even if she and Jasper couldn’t see it. There was no hope for me. Not anymore. Not now.

Clutching onto myself just that little bit tighter, I choked back sobs trying to make myself as invisible as I could to my parents. The more they forgot about me, the more likely I would survive.

The more I thought about it, the more I wondered if anyone in this small town would even notice I was gone.

Would anyone even care?

I tried , okay? It was all I’d ever done. And it had never once been enough.

Why couldn’t it just be enough? Why couldn’t I just be enough?

I didn’t know how long I’d had my eyes squeezed shut as my teeth chattered together, eyes barren of any tears as the remnants of them dried upon my cheeks, telling myself over and over again just to close my eyes and wish it all away. But sometimes, no amount of hope, no amount of diving headfirst into the ocean to wash the memories away, could erase the broken things I’d seen, and the fractures of the girl I had become .

I could’ve walked away. I could’ve turned my back and never looked back. One more year until I turned eighteen and could run far, far away from them both. From that town. One more year. I just had to hold on for one more…

A glint of white caught my eye. A Polaroid picture.

Reaching down, I picked up the small photo and turned it over, expecting to find maybe Oliver, or an old picture of my dad and I from an out of state competition, except…

“Why do you have a picture of Milla Brzezinski in your car?”

The missing girl.

One of hundreds of missing kids.

“Shut your trap, you ungrateful little bitch!” My father roared, white knuckles gripping onto the steering wheel.

I visibly flinched.

There was a date on the photograph.

It was taken four years ago…

Milla looked so young, so scared, so innocent…

“W-what’s going on?” I pressed further, staring down the barrel of a gun, the consequences pressing up against my rib cage. “W-where are you taking me?”

“We’re going home,” my mother replied sweetly, smiling at me. My whole body recoiled at the gesture. Bile rose in my mouth, tainting my mood along with my appetite.

“That place has never been home,” I sneered. “Cut the crap, mom.”

“If you speak to your mother like that again, girl, you will join those other missing girls either dead or bloodied. Take your pick.”

My mind spiraled. He knew about the missing girls, the missing kids. He knew something…and I wanted to find out exactly what it was. Slamming my lips shut, I huffed and angled my body away from them both towards the window instead.

“I always knew you were a good girl,” my father smirked. Fucking smirked . “You always were my greatest masterpiece, baby.”

Bruises. Bruises. Bruises.

Like a little watercolor fairy.

My greatest masterpiece.

Baby. Baby. Baby.

I rolled down the window just as my stomach contents kissed the sidewalk, leaving a trail of blood and bile behind.

“Oh, my poor baby,” my mother cooed, looking at me with a pitiful smile. “Don’t worry, sweet girl. You’ll feel better afterwards.”

She reached forward, tugging down the glove compartment before pulling out a small, black box.

“What are you talking about?”

She turned to face me once again. “You were always such a smart kid, Poppy. We knew we had to be smarter, or you’d piece it all together. You were never supposed to go surfing that night. Oliver was never supposed to have been in your bed instead of you for that fraction of a minute. It always should’ve been you.”

Peeling off the lid, she removed a tiny glass jar filled with some sort of clear liquid, followed by a large syringe. My eyes widened as I pushed myself as far back into the car seat as I could.

“Mom, w-what are y-you doing?”

“It’s okay, baby girl. It all worked out in the end, better than we both could’ve hoped. You’re our ticket out of here, don’t you see?” She beamed as the syringe started to fill up, all the way to the top. “They want you. Can you believe it? Someone actually wants you! I always knew that one mistake with your brother would haunt me for the rest of my life, but this, Poppy—this was always how it was meant to be.”

She leaned closer just as I stuck my neck out of the car and screamed.

Raw. Guttural. Painful.

Her fingers grasped my arm.

The needle pierced my skin.

“What a-are…what h-have…y-you done…” I slurred, vision swirling as my limbs went slack against my body.

“We’re here,” my father called out, the sound distant and ringing. Ringing so incredibly loud. “They’ll meet us here.”

White spots kissed the edges of my vision, the darkness closing in.

You’re with Jasper.

In his room.

He’s holding you against him.

He’s telling you he’ll protect you.

Arms hooked around my legs and waist, the world swaying from side to side.

You’re watching Marvel movies.

But he’s looking at you.

There’s popcorn scattered across the mattress.

Laughter in the air.

He wants to tell you that he lov—

“Y-you k-killed O-Ols,” I stuttered, lips numbing with every word until they hung open waiting for their puppet string to be pulled.

No one answered.

The guilt I’d carried around every day since, the guilt from thinking it was my fault, that I was responsible, shattered into a million little pieces.

Nicotine and vodka purged my senses.

I was back inside that house.

I was going to die inside that house.

“Close your eyes, Poppy. The pain will all go away soon.”

I couldn’t tell who was speaking anymore.

Cries echoed in the distance.

The world caved in.

One final time.

Burning and bright.

And as much as I fought, as much as I tried, my eyelids fluttered closed.

Heavy and exhausted.

Don’t give up on me.

I projected into the darkness in one last attempt hoping that, somehow, Jasper might just hear me.

D-don’t f-forget me.

Please…