The Dark Of You

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 17

They both saved me
The plane trip to Paris so far has been filled with silence. The awkwardness hangs in the air between Rylan and me. We haven’t had a proper conversation since the argument in the cab the day before. She has only offered information and I nod a few times or ignore her.

More times than I can count, I have felt like crying because of my life situation. I know I shouldn’t complain. There are people out there who have it ten times worse than me. Yet, that emptiness and loneliness can’t ever seem to be filled. It hasn’t been over the rim of the glass since my mother was alive—the things I would do to see her again.

I close my eyes to the view of Rylan, who stares out the window onto the clouds. Slowly tears slide down my cheeks without my permission. It’s like the glass that should be full of happiness and love has been switched out with pain and grief instead. I can’t control my own emotions at times.

“Hadley, are you alright?” A hand on my shoulder made me meet eyes with Joan, the flight attendant.

“I’m fine,” I smile through my tears, but clearly, she doesn’t believe me.

“Can I get you anything?” She offers.

“Water, please,” I sniff and dry the wetness of my face with the end of my sleeve.

“Of course,” Joan smiles and turns to look at Rylan for a second before she disappears. I thought she was going to ask if Rylan wanted something as well, but she didn’t. I met eyes with her and she seems concerned. At least, I think so. She isn’t an easy person to read most of the time.

“Want to talk about it?” Rylan’s words surprised me as I didn’t expect her to say anything at all.

“There is nothing to talk about,” I shrugged because I can talk and talk, but my life will never change. Rylan nodded thoughtfully and peeked backed out the window as Joan returned with a bottle of water.

“Thank you,” I said to the nice lady before she went back to her seat further back in the plane.

“When I was born,” Rylan started but kept her gaze still outside.

“My mother left me at the hospital. There was no record of who my father was, so I was placed into a foster home,” She turned to me now with her cold blue eyes and took a deep breath.

“They were terrible parents as they only cared for the money and not the children they had placed in their home. But eventually, the social workers found out, and I was placed into a new home,” Her eyes widened as she almost laughed.

“My new home was religious and as I grew, I became a problem child as they called me. I misbehaved a lot and preferred to do things that girls shouldn’t do apparently,” She rolled her eyes.

“They sent me back when I was twelve and I was placed into another family,” A small smile tugged at her lips.

“And it wasn’t easy at first, but compared to the two other homes, this was better. Shantelle, she’s a stay-at-home mom and her husband, Tucker he was in the military. Discipline was demanded underneath their roof, which was a problem for me, but Tucker took me underneath his wing and used my negative energy for something else,” She let out a deep breath.

“He trained me like he was trained and I joined the army after his death. I had finally found my place,” She said as she stared straight down as if she is stuck.

“They both saved me,” She smiled as she looked at me and I smiled in return. I can’t believe she has shared this heavy part of herself with me.

“Thank you,” I said gratefully as her story has put me at ease. Yet, it was a sad part of her life. At least most of it.

“For telling me that,” I added and she tilted her head slightly as if it didn’t mean a thing. However, it did.

“No,” I sat up straight in my seat and my words took her attention with a frown.

“It was really sweet of you to open up to me and I know it couldn’t have been easy for you, so I truly mean it when I say thank you,” I told her and she bit her bottom lip with that thoughtfully look in her eyes. It always makes me wonder what is on her mind, but then she smiled lightly as our eyes connected.

“So,” She broke the silence.

“What have you been drawing?” She asks as she looked down at my notebook. A fire burned onto my cheeks right away.

“Umm,” I stammered and she grinned.

“Me?” She asked, but there wasn’t a mocking tone in her voice, quite the opposite. There were softness and a trace of interest.

“It’s okay. I don’t mind,” I met her gaze again as I narrowed my eyes.

“You don’t?”

“No, at least you are drawing and you are good at it,” She sincerely smiled.

“Thank you,” I said shyly as the flames on my cheeks arose again. She gazed back out the window as if our conversations had come to an end and I can’t help but smile. Rylan made a part of my sadness go away. I can’t remember being near someone who has had that effect on me. She barely even tried.

I picked up my notebook again, along with my pencil and studied Rylan’s features. She sideglances at me with a small smile as she is quite aware of what I am doing. I bite my bottom lip and quickly added a few dots to her face. The scares that she has left unsaid. They cover half of her face and I wonder if they are a painful reminder to her. It makes me question if she watches herself in the mirror with pride or remorse. I have a feeling it’s the latter.