Captive of the Light - Lily Ramsay (ereader iphone txt) 📗

“Lauren”
My breath caught in my throat and I hiccupped as I recognised the same boyish scrawl. That was it I had been found out. I might as come out. I crept warily out of my hiding spot only to see a shadow of a girl with something running down her arm...blood!
****
I stood there awestruck and bewildered. There facing me was the girl from the first day we had arrived. She was just as wild looking and her green cat-like eyes shone in the darkness. She had a melancholy look on her face, like she was in another world. The blood had subsided and in its place were angry red lines etched into her skin. She noticed me looking and nodded. From her pocket she pulled a penknife and demonstrated how she would slash her arm. She tucked the knife away, looked up and smiled. There was no denying it, she was beautiful. But obviously very troubled. As I stared at her gaping arms, a million emotions surrounded me; ‘but why?’ I heard a pencil scrawl and looked up to see her holding out a piece of paper

“because it makes me feel better, I know why I am hurting”
I didn’t realise I had spoken out loud, I looked at her in wonder, only imagining the things that would have happened in her past to drive to such desperate measures. At that moment a wave of realisation swept over me, “you’re Caro, aren’t you, and you’ve been sending me the notes?” Her face broke into a smile that could melt the hardest heart. She nodded as she acknowledged that I had been right. “How come though?” Her hand became busy again. When she was done she held out her notebook for me to read:
“I’ll tell you everything tomorrow”
I nodded in agreement. We stood there awkwardly for a minute or so just staring at each other and taking everything in. Abruptly she tore her eyes away, bobbed her head as a farewell and scurried down the stairs. I was left standing their clutching her notes and staring at the bloodstains drying brown against the timber.


4.

The early light woke me as it spread into my room announcing that morning had arrived for another day. Urrggg I was so tired. After I had returned from the church, I had laid awake for hours, pondering Caro and her past and what she would tell me today. Again I wondered about her ability to speak, she could understand but did not utter a word. Today, would she tell me what happened or write it down?
My mind, a mush from lack of sleep and mysteries surrounding Pembrooke manor, I got up and dragged myself down for breakfast. Tom was already at the table and Grace was on the floor playing with her toys. I mumbled a good morning and made myself a piece of toast. We didn’t speak but I was happy to be alone with my thoughts.
Later that morning, while I was up in the tower soaking up the rare sunny day and trying to get into Wuthering Heights, I heard my mum call out, “Lauren, could you come down sweetie?” Sighing and putting my book down, I wandered idly down the long series of staircases.
When I reached the garden I saw Caro standing by the wall hugging her sleeves over her wrists and my mother trying to be polite and make conversation. When she saw me relief swept over her features and she hurried over to me.
“Honey”, she breathed, “is this girl alright, do you know her, she won’t talk!”
“Don’t worry mum, she’s just shy, it’s ok”.
When I turned back to Caro she had a knowing look on her face, like she knew what went on between my mum and me. I beckoned to her to come in, knowing that it wouldn’t do any good to speak to her. She followed obediently and smiled at my mum one last time before she ducked through the doorway.
When we reached my bedroom, she let go of her sleeves, allowing them to ride up a bit and reveal some of her scars. I tried to remain indifferent but I must say that it was difficult. I sat down and looked at her expectantly, she through back her head let out a bitter laugh, then smirked. “Come on!” I said playfully knowing it wouldn’t do any good. Finally with a sigh she took out her leather notebook and pulled a piece of parchment out. Reluctantly, after great hesitation, she handed it over knowing her fate was now in my hands.
I began to read:
Once upon a time there was a girl. Her parents used to fight a lot and eventually she was put into foster care. In and out, a different family every month. The young girl could never understand why her parents couldn’t keep her like ordinary children and although that never happened she still believed that her parents loved her very much.
One day when she was out playing with her new family, they received a call. It was bad news; the little girl’s mother had died. She was devastated. The new family did everything they could to try and comfort her but she would not stand for anything. She screamed and yelled all day and night, but refused to speak, she refused to eat and stayed up all night staring at the one photograph she had of her mother. In the end the foster family decided that she needed to be with her real family to have a connection.
They sent out letters to her remaining family explaining what had happened and that she needed someone to help her through this tough time. They received lots of responses and in the end settled for her grandmother and two great aunts living in a little village called Willowcombe.
When they explained to the little girl what was going to happen she became even more unhappy than before. She had grown fond of this family and wanted to stay with them however they insisted that she go, they said that she would have a better life and that these ladies had always loved her. The girl wasn’t convinced.
When the time came for the girl to leave, the whole family came down to the train station to say good bye. Her foster parents both told her that they loved her and would always remember her. They gave her sweets and remaindered her five times which stop to get off at.
The train ride was uneventful. The little girl ate her sweets and cried some more. When it became time to get off she smoothed her clothes in the hope to make a good impression so them maybe her aunts would keep her.
She stepped off the platform into a small quaint town. There was no-one left on the platform so she started to make her way down the stairs when she heard her name being called. Startled, she turned and found herself being engulfed into a huge bear hug. When she was released she was staring into the face of a sweet looking old lady. “oh thank goodness you’re here at last, I’m sorry I’m late” since the child still couldn’t bring herself to speak, she smiled gratefully at the old lady and slipped her hand into the wrinkled one of her grandmother. “Well then dearie” she said gently, “why don’t we take you home and have a nice cup of tea while you meet your aunts, they’re so excited to have you here” again the girl smiled gratefully and trailed after the lady, thinking that she may have found herself a family who loved her.
Weeks then months went by and the little girl was happy. She had aunts and a grandmother that loved her and spoiled her, a warm bed at night and hot breakfast every morning without fail. They accepted that the girl wouldn’t talk but made the best of it. One morning, when all had been going well, there was a knock at the door. The girl was up sewing with Grandma Elsie when Auntie June came up looking very alarmed. She motioned to the girl and announced that her father was here to take her. He had bought a place in the village and was willing to let her visit them but he wanted to take her home now.
There were tears but eventually her father got his way and took her home. But he lied. She was allowed to see her beloved great aunts twice but after that he said that she didn’t need that mothering anymore, that she was a lady now and should start acting like it. The girl wept and eventually stole one of her father’s razor blades. She ran it all over her skins but eventually drew it across her wrist. She cut to deep and was rushed to hospital. The girl was admitted to a psychiatric ward for three months. Occasionally her aunts came to visit her, telling her that they loved her so much and that they would write and they did until her father found the letters and forbid them. When the girl finally came home her father announced that he had been offered a job overseas and that he would be leaving. He told her that she could come with her or she could stay home in Willowcombe by herself. She chose to stay in the town she had come to love. The next day he left.
At the beginning her father came home every two weeks but slowly the lengths of time grew further apart. The girl didn’t mind, she visited her aunts and grandmother they grew old. She was home by herself for months at a time however she grew to love her own company.
As the years went on her aunts and grandmother grew old. They no longer cooked meals for her and when she was thirteen her first aunt died from a heart attack. Things were pretty morbid after that. Especially when nine months later her second aunt died from sadness of losing her sister.
So now there was only one aunt, the eldest. The girl nursed her to her death; often hearing stories about her son who lived in Australia and his family, two gorgeous girls and a young son. The girl was with her to the old ladies last breath...and then... everything changed...


5.

By the time I finished reading Caro’s story I had tears blurring my vision. When I glanced up I saw Caro sitting up very straight on my bed, rocking backwards and forwards staring at me with her intent emerald eyes. I was speechless, after reading Caro’s story I felt that I knew her so much better, the poor girl had had such an awful life and even now she was living by herself with no family close by. I reached out to put my hand over her but she retracted immediately and held it tightly in her lap. “Sorry”