In Your Footsteps
Willow
As I woke up, the familiar smell of coffee wafted through the air of our small two-bedroom apartment. I sat in our bed, allowing the covers to fall as I stretched my hands far above my head. I never thought I would have a life like this, so peaceful and quiet. The man I am convinced is the love of my life is in the small kitchen that is barely big enough to fit both of us.
The ground is cold as it hits my bare feet. I traipse my way over, standing in the threshold and admiring him. His long, dark curls are tied up in a bun as he cooks me some food. I am sure he was hoping to surprise me with breakfast in bed. It seems so small, but to me, it is wildly significant. I patiently wait for him to notice me as he hums along to the song he is quietly playing. He finally notices as he turns to get orange juice from the fridge. He beams, his beautiful brown eyes shining.
“Good morning, sweetheart.” I smile, caught up in the fact that this is my life now. “I hope you slept well with all that tossing and turning.”
“Just fine,” my voice comes out croaky and hoarse.
“I made you breakfast,” he continues, gesturing towards the eggs frying in the pan. I just lightly nod, still looking him up and down. I am so in love with him. “You feeling alright?”
“Mhmm, just admiring you and this little life.”
“Well, I would love to stay longer and admire it more with you, but I have errands to run today.” Cal starts over, pulling me into his arms briefly, kissing the crown of my head. He walks past, leaving me to finish up breakfast.
That familiar panic sets in my chest as I reach the stove and turn it off. What if this doesn’t last forever? What if it’s just a matter of time before he realizes I am not what he wants?
I feel Cal hug me from behind, now fully dressed for the day. He gently rests his head against my shoulder. “I love you.” His voice sweetly sings.
“Yeah, I know.” I feel his body tense as the words leave my mouth. I have always been like this, so desperate to love, only to push it away when it gets too close. “I love….I love you, too.” I respond, trying not to shatter this perfect life we have. Don’t ruin this, Willow.
“Are you sure you’re alright? I can wait a little longer to leave if you need me to be here.” I just shake my head. Cal hugs me tighter. I feel tears welling up in my eyes. Why can’t I just accept his love? I want to so badly, but I just feel like damaged goods. “I wish I could go back and hug little you, you know? I would tell her that I love her. That she is safe with me. You’re safe with me.”
“I know. I think it’s going to be one of those days.”
“I can stay home.” I shake my head. “You’re more important than the things I have to do.” Thunder booms outside of our small apartment, causing me to startle. Cal pulls away, his doe eyes filled to the brim with worry. “And now it’s storming, I guess I have to stay.” I try not to smile as the tears flow down my cheeks. The lightning flashes through our tiny kitchen window.
“I’ll get better, I promise.”
“I know you will, but you don’t have to do it alone. I’m still here. I’m not leaving.”
“Everyone says that,” I argue.
“What will it take for you to see that I mean it?” He tries to reason, but you can’t reason with anxiety and depression. Trauma is a funny thing. It rewires everything in your mind, and even people like him, people like Cal, who are covered in kindness, seem like the enemy. “I love you, and I am staying. You’re stuck with me until we are old and gray.” Cal grins, trying to lighten the mood. The storm outside grows louder as the one in my mind swirls. I never did anything to deserve this. I can’t even begin to add up to what he wants, to what he deserves. I am just a broken girl with her shattered dreams, nothing more. I startle once more as the thunder shakes the ground. “Hey,” Cal says, reaching out for me. I break into a sob. “I’m sorry. I am trying to help. I’m trying.”
“I know. I wish I were better. I don’t want to be so dark, to be your burden anymore.”
“You’re not a burden.”
“I've always been a burden. I was my parents' biggest burden.”
“You’re not a burden to me, you’re my first choice.” Cal reaches out a hand. I take his hand, and just as he pulls me into a hug, lightning shoots through the window. Everything burns as my vision fades to black.
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Cal
I wake up in an unfamiliar room. Where am I? “Willow?” I call out, sitting up. The room is small, with scattered toys lining the floors. How did I get here? I was just in the kitchen trying to comfort my partner. “Willow?’ I call out again, standing up. Small footsteps ring off the floors. I freeze for a moment as she runs through the doors of the tiny room. She looks so young, barely old enough to be in kindergarten. I smile at her. It’s Willow. Or Dawn, I should say. That’s who she was before she changed her name. She looks so adorable and happy. Three beds lay in the room, and I notice that her youngest sister is still fast asleep in one of the beds.
Willow quickly leaves the room. I follow her out of the room and into another bedroom. Her mother is fast asleep. “Mommy,” her voice rings as she approaches the bed. “Mommy, Jessi is hungry. I hungry.” Her mother groans, rolling over and ignoring the small child. “Mommy,” she tries again.
“Go away,” her mother replies, still half asleep. A rage starts in my chest. I know what is happening. This is when she began to take care of everyone else. When she started putting her own needs aside for the needs of others. I follow Willow as she scurries out of the room.
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Willow
I gasp for air as I open my eyes. I look around, finding myself in a room I don’t recognize. “Cal?” I meekly call. I get to my feet. It appears to be a bedroom for a small child. Where am I? How did I get here?
I freeze as I hear what sounds like someone crying. I start to look around, trying to figure out what is going on. I find him hiding away in a corner as he cries. I get down on his level, reaching out to hold him. The boy looks up, and for a moment, I don’t know what to do. It’s Cal. Not my Cal, but him as a small child. Screaming rings through the wall of the house as he shudders, hiding his head again. I try to hold him, only to find that I can’t.
I jump as someone bursts through the doors behind me. An angry man stands at the door. “Cal!!” The man yells. Cal jumps up to his feet, trying to make a run for it. The man chases him with a belt in his hands. I jump in the way, trying to stop him, only for the man to run through me. Cal screams as the man catches him. “BOYS DON’T CRY!!” The man yells at him. I’m crying, wishing I could reach out and hold him. I wish I could tell him he is allowed to cry. Just because he is a boy doesn’t mean he can’t have feelings too. The man smacks him across the face with the belt. Cal tries not to react, but tears continue to fall. The man hits him again, and Cal yelps. This goes on for a while longer until the young boy is on the ground, covered in welts. He is no longer crying, but he still looks so empty. I sit down beside him as the man leaves the room. I once again try to touch him, but my hand just goes through him. It’s almost as if I am a ghost viewing the past. But still, I sit beside him so he won’t be alone.
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Cal
The room spins, and suddenly, I am in a different house. Willow is a bit older but still a kid. There is yelling from another room, a voice I recognize as her stepmother's. Willow is standing in the doorway of her room, her two younger sisters and stepbrother hiding behind her. I watch as she eyes the room right next to hers. What is she doing?
She scurries out of the room, trying to open the door. Her rage-filled stepmother spots her, chasing after her. Willow is small and agile. She avoids the woman, returning to her room and slamming the door. “YOU WERE CALLING THE COPS, WEREN’T YOU!?” Willow pushes her small body against the door to keep her stepmother out, the door rattling.
“Hide,” she tells her younger siblings. They all three sit there, not moving, crying. “Hide. It’s ok, I’ve got this. You guys hide.” The screaming continues as Willow desperately tries to keep the crazed woman out long enough for them to hide.
The door bursts open, and Willow hits the floor as the other three are out of view. The vile woman stands above her. I launch myself in the way, trying to shield her, but it’s like I’m not there.
The room starts to spin again, and the environment has changed. We are in a trailer. Willow comes into view. She must be a teenager now, perhaps around 16. Her mother walks into the room. “Why would you lie about something like that? You could ruin that boy’s life.”
“I didn’t lie.”
“Yes, you did. You chose to have sex with him. He did not force you.”
“I was passed out. It wasn’t a choice.”
“I called the doctors. We are putting you on birth control since you want to do adult activities now.”
“I didn’t–” Willow is cut off as the door shuts. She sits on her bed, bringing her knees to her chest as she breaks down. “I’m better off dead,” she mutters. My heart breaks a little. Was this the first time she tried to kill herself? The first time she self-harmed? I timidly watch as she gets up, walks to her dresser, and pulls out a knife. My heart starts to race. Don’t do it. Please don’t.
“Stop,” I call out. My voice echoes into nothing. “Stop it. Please. I believe you…. I believe you.” The blade cuts into her small wrists. “Willow,” I call out. “Willow, please. Don’t do this to yourself.” Her blood trickles down her wrists until she collapses to her knees. I rush over, trying to wrap my arms around her.
“I don’t want to be alive anymore.”
“I want you alive.” I reason in the void. “I want you alive because I love you.”
“I can’t go on anymore. I–” She cuts herself off as she drops the knife. I sit down beside her. I reach out even though I know at this point I can’t actually touch her.
“You’re a phoenix. Or at least that is the tattoo you put on this arm. It reminds you that even when you get burnt to nothing but ash, you will rise again, stronger and more determined than ever.” I am again met with the reality that she can’t hear me. “You grow into this beautiful woman, like really beautiful. You’re so gentle and kind to everyone. I am still trying to get you to be that way with yourself because you deserve it.” Her crying seems to settle, and she looks in my direction. I pause for a moment, not sure if she can see me. “The best part of waking up every morning is you. I know I don’t tell you that enough. But I don’t know where I would be if I didn’t have you.” She meekly smiles. Can she see me?
She gets to her feet, walking past me to a notebook that is barely held together. Battle Scars is written across the cover. I smile at this. It’s her most significant project, the one she started when she was in middle school. She’s always told me that writing is what has kept her alive through her most challenging moments. I get up, standing beside her and looking at the handwritten pages. She has no idea how far this story takes her or how much it still means to her at 23.
“You’re a mom,” my voice comes out small. “An incredible one at that.” I decide to quiet myself and watch as she writes. I still don’t know how I ended up here, but I will enjoy this small moment of peace with her.
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Willow
Everything spins, and I am no longer sitting next to the broken little boy. Cal walks in, looking to be a middle schooler at most. His face is bruised and beaten. Who did that to him? His mother rushes over, holding his face and looking at him with worry. “What happened?” She pushes.
“Nothing,” he responds. He seems to be holding back so much. I guess that is what happens when we teach boys they can’t show what they are feeling. They no longer know how to communicate with anything but anger and resentment.
“Cal,” his mother’s tone is stern.
“It’s nothing, okay? I’m fine.”
“You know what, I don’t have time to deal with this right now. I have to get your sister to practice.”
“As usual, her activities are more important than mine.” His mother smacks him across the face. Cal clenches his jaw, bawling his fists.
“Go to your room, and don’t come out until you know how to talk to your mother.” Cal rolls his eyes as he walks away.
The room spins again, and Cal stumbles into a dark room. He looks like a teenager. He falls to the ground, too drunk or high to stand. I crawl over, sitting down beside him again. He told me about these days. He used alcohol to cope. At the mere age of 22, he became a recovering alcoholic. It’s terribly sad, but I remind him daily that I am proud of him for putting it down.
“It’s not worth it. You can never drown your feelings with a bottle.” Cal groans, rolling over. “You’re so much happier without the alcohol.”
“I hope I drink myself to death.”
“You’re not allowed to do that,” I respond, even though I know he can’t hear me. “I need you. I need your kind heart and gentle nature. You are worthy of love, and you deserve the right to show your emotions.”
“Maybe it would just be better if I weren’t here. If I never existed. Would anyone even notice?”
“I would notice.” I lay down beside him, reaching out to touch his hand. Once it fails again, I just lie there. “I would definitely notice if you were gone. You have to stay, I need you to get up and stay…..please.”
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Cal
The room shifts, and I am standing outside a movie theater. My heart beats fast as I realize what is happening. This is it! The first date we ever went on. Willow comes walking up from her car. There is an awkwardness between us that makes me giggle. She means so much to me, I can’t imagine us ever being that awkward again. I feel someone’s hand in mine and look over to see her. Her eyes are filled with worry. “I’m proud of you,” she whispers. I brush some hair out of her face.
“I’m proud of you for staying.” She hugs me, tightly pressing my body to hers. Everything spins again, and we are on the kitchen floor, holding each other. This is perfect. Our little quiet life is perfect. “I think I know what the point was,” I whisper.
“What?”
“If we went back and changed a single piece of what happened to us, we wouldn’t be here now. I’d live it all again to end up back here.” I feel her nod her head against my shoulder. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” With that, I decided to stay here and hold her. Nothing could replace this bond we share. This healing, patching, and loving each other fully kind of bond.