Olivia's Trek (1) (20 page)
Lucien Borgia
The devil and all the wicked “… shall be tormented with fire and brimstone in the presence of the holy angels, and in the presence of the Lamb: And the smoke of their torment ascendeth up for ever and ever.”
Revelation 14:10–11
“Turn up the volume,” I rasp, choking at the nurse who is sitting beside me reading a book.
“Lucien, maybe we should listen to some nice music or something?”
“No.” I want to grab her but I can’t the way I’m suspended in mid air facing the floor. “My morphine pump isn’t working.”
She sighs before turning the volume up. “It is working, you just have to give it a few minutes after you press the button.”
Finally, some relief. Why don’t these people just listen?
I listen with my eyes closed as the clone news anchor who just sounds like the rest of them says, “One man sustained critical burn injury, while two others escaped with lesser injuries, when a fire erupted in a Manhattan apartment overlooking Central Park early Thursday morning. The man, age 18, sustained second-degree burns to as much as sixty percent of his body, including his torso, face and airways. In critical condition, he was rushed by FDNY paramedic ambulance to nearby William Randolph Hearst Burn Center at NewYork-Presbyterian/Weill Cornell Medical Center.
“The fire was confined to the structure and flames were fully extinguished.There was no immediate evidence of functional smoke alarms within the home, nor were there any window bars, security doors or obvious non-fire factors to impede the egress of the occupants. The Upper East Side residence was not equipped with residential fire sprinklers.”
Good one, Dad. All that money and we didn’t even have a fricking smoke alarm.
I remember feeling strange sensations on my fingertips and hands, the pinging noises were my fingernails coming off my hands as they began to swell. I didn’t know it then, but it was the heat. The only choices were to try to get out of the situation or give up and succumb to the flames. I know what I wanted to do. That’s why I locked the bedroom door and threw the key across the room. But when we needed it we couldn’t find it through all the smoke.
Olivia saved us. She made me realize that we had to survive.I will get through this, the skin grafts, the rehab, the bodysuits. There will always be scarring, but there is still breath and life in me and when I’m ready, I’m coming for you Felipe Borgia.
Olivia Carter
As the digital clock beside the bed changes to midnight, my heart feels still and calm. The anniversary I dreaded has come and gone.
I’m here alive and as sane as any person could be after such a short life full of tragedies.
Reflecting over the past year’s pain, with its challenges and triumphs, I’ve succeeded, well, for now anyway. I’m scared that I will never be truly free, but I’ve made sure that I’ve survived and moved forward.That’s a huge leap for me.
I look back, remembering leaving the hospital after seeing Lucien wrapped in bandages, and being driven home, crying inconsolably at what had happened. Gabriel sat quietly beside me, gently comforting me while Uncle Preston sat tersely in the car on my other side, staring out the window.
When we got back to the Carter residence, I curled up in my bed and cried myself to sleep. And everyone let me.
Some days it felt like the events of my life have been some sort of sick hallucination, but sadly it was real and no longer my secret.
That dark afternoon a year ago is a hazy memory now, but sometimes it creeps around, hiding until the wrong moment when it resurfaces again.
For now though the fear that had raced through me for that mere ten minutes has now diminished into a faint memory.
Telling my family, each one separately. Life slowly breathed into me once again. I feared the worst, but joyfully they were both behind me. Supporting all my decisions and choices. Without judging me for keeping it a secret and not prosecuting. They were just happy that they knew.
Tonight, on this exquisitely painful anniversary, I turn over to the man who now lies beside me. The one I love and freely give myself to, Gabriel Carmichael. It’s not because he helped me overcome my tragedy. That I did proudly on my own. But he was there when I was ready to move on. To be my friend and lover. I thank God for letting me live. For not allowing my rapist to take my life. So many others are hurt physically. Or even lose their lives. I got lucky.
I survived with no bruises or scars. At least none that are visible. The horror of that night will be with me forever. But my greatest fears have been overcome. Not to love someone again. That is easy for me because I have a compassionate heart. But to make love to a man again. Freely of my own will. Now my life can move on and this chapter can be closed forever.
Olivia Carter
I stifle a large yawn as I pore over the organic chemistry equations that I’ve made flash cards for. Life has been wonderfully normal for the most part.
Gabriel comes through to the study with a hot cup of cocoa. “Come on, put it away now, missy. Drink this up and I’ll run you a bath.”
“Just one last look,” I plead, feeling panicky at being parted from the security of the cards.
He shakes his head. “Uh-uh. You’ve got a big day ahead of you tomorrow and I want you well rested.”
“What if I can’t do it?”
“It’s totally okay to be scared or nervous. You’ve decided to take the MCATs, Olivia, not a bar quiz. No one said it would be easy.”
“Yeah well, we can’t all be as clever as you, Dr. Carmichael.” I stick my tongue out at him.
“Besides I totally believe that you can do it. Richard Carmona, M.D. earned a GED went to Community college then became Surgeon General under President George H.W. Bush.”
“And if I don’t? Then what?”
“Then we try again or try something else, but whatever happens, Olivia Carter, I love you and we’ll work it out.”
He kisses my forehead before heading off towards the bathroom where I hear the bath running.
I mutter a new mantra to myself, “I will ace the MCATs. I will go to medical school. I will become a great doctor,” as it helps to detract from my tingling sixth sense that keeps trying to tell me that after all this time and a chance at happiness, the Gods are getting ready to play again.
DM Sharp’s past includes a prolonged stint at working as a high-yield (junk) bond trader after completing her first degree in Economics. However, she cried too much doing that job and one day remembered that her two dreams in life were firstly, to be a doctor and secondly to write books. She returned to medical school and received her medical degree from Nottingham University and is currently training to be a General Physician. She is now also actively pursuing her second dream (when not seeing patients) and devotes a very special part of herself to the power of words and love of storytelling. Any other spare moments are devoted to being a wife and mother of two!
She writes primarily YA/Adult novels dealing with gritty, coming of age issues, centred around a troubled heroine called Olivia Carter whose personal philosophy has been forged from her tormented upbringing. Olivia’s childhood was unstable and impoverished, and her teen years were marked by abuse. DM Sharp feels an affinity with Olivia Carter and people like her.
DM Sharp’s debut novel is called Olivia’s Trek, a dark tale of the American dream ripped apart. The second novel in the Olivia Carter Series is called Olivia’s Choice, about choices, their consequences and how sometimes when we act in the best interests of a person we love, it is not always the correct choice that is made. The third novel, Olivia’s Destiny, is currently in production.
The most important words DM Sharp likes to hold onto are: compassion, hope, and freedom.
Things she likes—
• Italy
• Eating Nuttella spread out of the jar with a spoon when I’m writing
• Reading everything from the classics (Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier is my all time favourite), everything YA (Laurie Halse Anderson is my hero), trashy magazines and medical textbooks (only when I have to!)
• Sunshine
• My best friends (I would go crazy without them)
• My family … most of the time (They think I’m crazy)
• Anything Cinnamon.
Things she dislikes—Bad manners, bullies, vanilla essence, the sound of chalk scratching on a blackboard, fireworks and the dark.
