Warning: mention of past self-harm!

Elijah’s P.O.V

We come to a stop in front of our house and I get out, taking with me Oreo. I feel warm, warmer than I have ever felt after my parents died and Pita’s death. I have a new friend, a new companion, that will share memories with me and with who I can exchange my secrets. Those secrets that still haunt me at night and whenever I let my mind wanders. I remember his eyes, looking at me with lust as shivers of disgust rake my tiny body. My mood becomes gloomier, but before I could let myself sink into a bottomless sea of hate, I feel a wet nuzzle touch my hand. My eyes focus back, and I realize I am already in my room, ready to take out my blade to let out all the pain inside. I quickly drop the offensive item as Oreo once again nuzzle the hand holding it. I cannot believe I nearly did it again. At least my new friend was there to stop me, or I would have regret it and blamed myself for weeks. It had been a few months since I last had the urge to cut myself, but today’s flashbacks were so vivid, I could not help it. I couldn’t shake off the disgust and hate inside of me, along with all the psychological pain it brings me. It hurts so much, and all the pain was keeping me stuck in my head, unable to escape all those memories.

So, I cut myself.

In a vain attempt to try and bring my mind out of the pit I dug a long time ago and continued to dig every single day I let those memories tear me apart even more. Each cut brings me back to reality, little by little, but I know best. I know that the moment I stop cutting and inflicting harm on myself, my mind will automatically go back there, to burrow itself under mountains of dark thoughts. I try, again and again, to think of another way, but it never works.

However, in this moment as I lay on my bed and pet Oreo’s fur, I can feel all my worries disappear. No, not disappear. Only retreat behind a mental wall, ready to come out whenever I let my guard down, but it’s enough. This small time of peace is enough. The memories retreat and become only a blur, while the pain changes into a small feeling of discomfort, before completely fading away.

I’m free.

My face comes in contact with my dog’s fur and he lets out a whine, certainly feeling the hot water seeping in his coat while it burns my eyes and warms my cheeks. Muffled screams echo in my room as I let out all the grief, that I felt all those years, before they decrease into small hiccups leaving my shaking body. It felts so good to let out all the pain, not with the help of a sharp tool, but by myself. I weakly stretch out my arm and take a tissue before wiping Oreo’s fur and my face. I feel drained, but in a good way. After cutting, I always feel weak from blood loss and the mental strain it puts me under, but now I only feel empty and sleepy. As if I had run a marathon and was now coming out of the adrenaline’s height. Weak, but satisfied.

I feel in peace with myself, something I have never felt after meeting M. Brown. I gasp and sat up straighter, realizing that I had just thought about ‘his’ name. After all this time, I was finally able to think of ‘his’ name without having an attack.

I think Alexander’s idea of taking in a dog to help me was the greatest idea he ever has. That is, after he had the idea of using condoms with Samuel after the twins were born. He should have used them before too.

As I gaze into Oreo’s warm brown eyes that look at me with a clueless look, I have the feeling that this dog will forever change my life and maybe make me come in peace with my past.