The Darkness Within

by Taylor K. Scott

  Slowly and sadly, I shake my head; I’ve got nothing. Gabe has already passed on my information about Russ and Matt’s dodgy exchange, but to be honest, it’s not a lot to go on. My friend may participate in taking the odd illegal stimulant but how does that solve Grant’s current predicament? I know half the kids in my school have experimented with recreational drugs, and pot is practically like putting out a bag of chips at a party.

  “But…” I begin, not really knowing whether to tell him about my weekend with Sam. It was a few months ago now and I’ve been debating this conundrum ever since, not quite knowing if it’s going to make him feel better or worse than he already does. Fuck my life! It just keeps handing me steaming piles of shit situations that I lack the capacity to make decisions about.

  “What?!” both cry out in unison, covered in irritation and lacking patience for my dithering over everything. I guess I’m spilling the beans regardless of whether or not it’s the right thing to do.

  “I’ve seen Sam,” I murmur quietly, hoping they heard me but maybe hoping they didn’t.

  “You have?” Grant tightens his grip over my hands, looking like an excited puppy about to get a new chew toy, while Gabe shakes his head with an expression that can only be described as the polar opposite of the guy sitting across from us. I guess I was never going to win them all. “How is she? What did she say?”

  “She’s ok?” To be honest, I don’t know if she’s ok or not, and making my statement into a question more than conveys that fact. Grant looks at me as though I’m about as helpful as one of my parents trying to support their kid. “She’s surviving and she has a good friend living with her, a bitchy friend who despises us, but a good friend to her. She wanted to know about you, to know how you are, but when I told her that you are still claiming your innocence, that you are still in love with her, she…” I sigh because this can’t be healthy for either of them. Once again, it’s me delivering the disease to both of them.

  “For fuck’s sake, what?!” Grant growls at me with such force, I physically whither a little.

  The threat of tears irritatingly pricks at the bottom of my eyes, knowing that all I appear to be able to do these days, is thoroughly piss people off. Gabe, forever the papa bear figure in my life, senses my impending breakdown and immediately moves closer to put his arm around me for comfort. It only makes me feel marginally better but is enough for Grant to see my reaction and calm down a little. He reaches out to hold onto my hands again, this time with remorse spreading over his features.

  “I’m sorry, Mils. Please, what were you going to say?” His soft eyes, the ones that are begging for me to give him some hope, look at me with what little patience he has left, but it does nothing to help my impending sobbing.

  “Sh-she broke down into fits of tears,” I cry, “she also got a little weird about Matt and me. She made me promise I wouldn’t go to one of his parties again. She said they were toxic for girls like her and me.”

  I watch as his eyes close in regret, taking a few moments to take what I’ve said onboard and make some sort of peace with it. I’m not sure what answer he was expecting me to give him, but from the look of his whole demeanor, neither did he. What he genuinely wants, he can’t have, and that must be heart-breaking for him. Gabe eventually reaches out to pat him gently on the shoulder, prompting him to finally open his glassy eyes and physically try to shake the pain of it off altogether.

  “And where was Bowie during all of this?” Grant asks, changing the subject and now sporting a deep-set frown.

  “Hmmm, yeah, what exactly is going on between you two?” Gabe pipes in, “Last I heard, Grant was telling me you two were together, yet you’ve missed the last two visits here, and when I walked in today, well, it didn’t sound too good.”

  “Bowie didn’t hear anything,” I answer honestly but look towards the floor guiltily, because I have been missing my visits to see Grant. I was so lost in my own bubble of misery, I knew I’d be no good for my brother to see, so I had practically begged Gabe to go in my place. He took a while to be convinced, not because he didn’t want to come, but because I refused to tell him what was wrong with me.

  “We’re not together anymore, so…” I mutter quietly before shrugging it off, hoping it’s enough to let both of them know that I’d rather have a pap test than talk about it any further.

  “Oh,” Grant says sympathetically, “I can’t say I’m too sorry about that, Mils. He isn’t good enough for you anyway. It’s probably a good thing you ended it with him, I think, anyway.”

  Grateful for his statement, rather than a barrage of questions I don’t want to answer, I choose not to correct him on who ended it, but I can feel Gabe still eyeing me with suspicion.

  “So, what now?” I look up, trying to steer the conversation on as soon as humanly possible.

  “Maybe going to one of Matt’s parties isn’t a bad idea,” Gabe announces out of nowhere, together with a far-off look. “I mean that’s where it happened and I’m guessing he invites the same sorts of people to each one. I’d go with Millie, to make sure she’s safe.”

  “I don’t know…” Grant leans back against the chair, sighing heavily, but I can tell he’s considering it. After all, what else do we have?

  “Come on, Grant!” I plead with him, not only because I agree with Gabe, but also because it will give me some renewed purpose to get up in the morning because that shit’s getting really hard to do these days. “I know he’s having one next weekend, it’s one of their last games on Friday. It’s a friendly, so most of the guys who were at your party are bound to be there too. Gabe can come with me and we can investigate together. I mean, look at him, no one will try anything on with me if he’s by my side.”

  Gabe thrusts his chest out theatrically like he’s a silverback and proud of it, which finally has both of us laughing at him, the idiot! Eventually, Grant sighs and we grin, knowing we’ve eased his inner doubts and he’s conceding without actually voicing it.

  “Ok,” he throws his hands up, though is still shaking his head like he knows it’s akin to madness to let his baby sister go to the same place where this whole nightmare began. Gabe winks at me with a smug grin, just before I grab onto my brother once more. I silently pray I can finally help him to get out of this place. I know he’s being destroyed both physically and mentally with each passing day and he’s not going to last much longer without leaving here a changed man. Without Bowie anymore, Grant is all I have.

  When we finally have to exit the building, it feels like someone is twisting a rusty, serrated knife inside my gut. Grant’s attempts to cover up his sadness at our goodbye were impressive given what we’re leaving him to, but it wasn’t enough to stop me from seeing the tears building up along the bottom of his eyes. Seeing your big brother close to tears is as soul-destroying as when you’d catch your mom or dad crying when you were a child. It’s terrifying knowing that those who have always been so strong for you, the ones who are meant to protect you, are capable of breaking. It’s like coming to terms with their mortality when you always believed they were superheroes.

  Once outside, I think of Tibbs with his wonky ear and missing eye, lying sadly inside of Grant’s bed, and I immediately burst into tears. Gabe must have been suspecting this reaction because he is on me as soon as the first tears drop down my cheek, throwing his arms around my shoulders and kissing me affectionately on top of my head.

  “Come on, Hun, let’s go and get something disgusting and sugary before we head back,” he smiles, to which I nod and follow him over to our trusty steed, his motorbike.

  Pete’s diner is a perky little place for a town that is only a stone’s throw away from a penitentiary, but it offers plenty of options to drown away your misery after leaving what feels like one of your limbs behind in that place. Naturally, I choose the window seat if only so I can people watch on the street, thus losing myself in the monotony of others going about their happy lives. It’s a handy distraction, especially when someon
e is going to be trying to make me open up emotionally. As I’ve proved on more than one occasion, I’m an easy crier, but hopefully, having something else to focus on will stop me from drowning in a puddle of snot and tears.

  I dig right into slurping on my chocolate milkshake, complete with extra cream and a chocolate flake. Gabe, however, takes an extra-long time pouring milk and sugar into his coffee. Even after that, he just sits and looks at me silently for a while. Eventually, he sighs uncomfortably and begins to open his mouth to talk, but then stops before repeating the whole awkward process.

  “He broke up with me,” I mutter bluntly as I watch a couple of girls walking down the street from the store they were just in. One of them is holding a bag while the other one whispers something into her ear. They giggle and look over their shoulders at the boy who is casually leaning up against the pole at the bus stop. He grins bashfully, before looking to the floor and it’s almost cute how embarrassed he looks over their obvious attraction to him. I smile at the whole G-rated scene, suddenly wishing I was twelve again when boys were just a whisper and a gossip, nothing more.

  “Really?!” Gabe frowns in disbelief. “I mean, I knew he was obviously an idiot, but I didn’t think he would be that stupid!”

  I offer a small smile for his compliment, savoring it before having to go into the whole explanation more thoroughly.

  “Because he found out I was visiting Grant and, apparently, that makes me an ‘insensitive bitch who puts my rapist brother before him and his sister.’ I don’t know, maybe he’s right. Given our situation, I guess we don’t make sense.”

  “I’m sorry, Mils,” he places his hand over mine, just as I begin to pick my coaster apart. “You look like he really meant something to you.” I just shrug because it hurts too much to admit I love him. “You’ve certainly taken the hit for what happened to Grant and Sam. I know he’s being physically attacked, but you? You’re being personally attacked in every other way, and all because you share the same last name.”

  “Let’s just focus on trying to find out who really raped Sam,” I sigh, swallowing back the threat of those damn tears again. Not even pre-teen love has kept them at bay, the bastards! I snap out of my self-pity and look back into Gabe’s concerned eyes. “Because that boy back there, the one who nearly cried when we left, who still kept my old teddy in his bed at night? He is not capable of something like that.”

  “I agree, let’s do this!” He smirks with enthusiasm, trying his best to boost my spirits. “Do you need me to stay with you this week? I already have some extra credit, so I can blow college if you need me to.”

  I shake my head rapidly, “No, I’m fine. I could actually use some alone time after having Mercy to stay.”

  “Yeah, she’s intense,” he laughs and widens his eyes at the thought of it, just before he flexes his biceps in front of me. “But at least she has good taste!”

  I throw a piece of the coaster at him and giggle over his giant ego, even though I can admit it’s one he deserves, and I’m not talking about the way he looks; Gabe has one of the biggest hearts I know.

  “I guess she does.”

  Chapter 29

  Bowie

  Having spent another weekend at Sam’s, just so I can avoid Matt, Millie, Mercy, and practically everyone else from school, I finally concede that it’s time to head back home. Besides, I know my sister is silently judging me for giving up on Millie, however, even after months of feeling like shit, l still believe it’s the right thing for both of us. The way I see it, we lived long enough hating one another and only a short while loving each other, so perhaps going for halfway and not being anything is the best way forward. I’m sure we’re both going to fall in love with lots of different people. It’s not like you find one love and that’s it. She deserves to be with someone who is not in any way connected to Sam or Grant, and so do I.

  Mom looks at my tired, sullen ass and practically orders me straight to bed like I’m nine years old again. Back then I would have chucked a strop but the way I’m feeling, I’m more than happy to crawl into bed early. The drive always kills me, and I don’t want to risk another migraine again. I’ve already had three of those in the last two months, and that’s excluding the one I had just before Millie and I broke up. They appear to have set up residence since that day in January and seem quite content to stay there.

  Of course, brains don’t always comply with how you’re feeling, and two hours later, I’m still staring at the ceiling, tapping my fingers against my chest, and inwardly getting annoyed with myself for not passing out as soon as my head hit the pillow. I’ve already heard my parents go to bed and here I am still battling over the events of the last few months, each one silently taunting me with their ability to spin around on repeat.

  I think back to when Millie and I had had sex on Sam’s sofa and how we laughed after I growled as I came deep inside of her. I think of her coming to get me from the kitchen and asking me to go back to bed with her. I think of her telling me that her heart was mine too. It’s one fucked up drama whirling around and around inside of my head, telling me what a stubborn fucker I am for throwing it all away. In the end, I give into my frustration and throw a bedside glass across the room, then revel in the sound of it smashing against the wall.

  “I’m doing the right thing,” I mutter to no one but myself, “but why is it so fucking hard?!”

  As soon as the silence hits me again, I close my eyes, seizing up as I try to will my brain to give in and go to sleep, but my whole body seems to be one ball of pent-up energy. It’s running high on adrenaline, which seems to have come out of thin air and has nowhere to escape to. Another infinite amount of time seems to pass me by, and still, no joy.

  In the end, I decide there’s nothing else to do but get up and clean away the shards of glass which are now lying across my bedroom floor. They look like precious stones, catching the light from the moon sneaking in through my window, so inviting and so tempting. I pick one up and squeeze it into the palm of my hand and moan in appreciation when it burns and satisfying tiny blood droplets appear from the cut beneath them.

  My phone begins to buzz across my bedside cupboard, stunning me for a moment or two before wiping the blood over the towel which I had lazily left hanging over the end of my bed. I guess it pays to be a slob sometimes.

  “Hello?” I ask, even though I saw who it was on the caller ID, but I’m a little shocked that it’s her. “Millie?”

  “Bowie!” she gasps, sounding distressed, almost like she’s about to cry but is too scared to.

  “What’s wrong?” I stride over to turn the light on, cutting my feet on the glass along the way. “Tell me!”

  “I don’t know, someone’s here,” she whispers, “I heard the doors open and close downstairs, but no one is here but me. I’m sorry I didn’t know who else to call. Mercy is away and-”

  “I’m on my way,” I say reassuringly and hang up. Yanking on a pair of jeans, which were probably ready for the washing basket, I grab a shirt, my keys, and bolt for the door. My feet are leaving little red footprints on the laminate flooring, making it look like a scene from a horror movie. I’ll have to worry about that later though; I need to get to Millie and fast.

  Amelia

  As soon as Bowie hangs up on me, I become reacquainted with the thudding sound of my heart beating within my chest. The irrational part of my brain begins to berate Bowie for not being here as soon as I informed him of my current peril. It somehow convinces me that he has the power to teleport here on my every whim, regardless of the fact that we haven’t spoken in months, or, you know, the laws of physics! I’m scared and I want him here now so whoever it is will get the hell away from this house.

  It feels like hours pass by and yet he’s still not here and part of me wonders if he’s ever going to show. I even contemplate calling Matt but the thought of him being here, in my room, with just me, myself, and I, screams the night of his party, not to mention the stark warnings both Grant and
Sam have given me. I could call the cops, but what would I tell them? I heard the door banging downstairs? They’ll probably laugh hysterically before telling me off for wasting their time.

  BANG!

  Holy fucking shit, that was a door banging again! Who the hell is in my house?!

  I screw my face up, knowing I can’t wait in here any longer, because sooner or later, I’m going to end up a sitting duck. My whole body is clenched up-tight, even my pelvic floor is getting a good workout, so I tentatively get out of bed and tiptoe over to grab my dressing gown. I wrap it around me, tying the belt in a double knot, pretending it’s a suit of armor with a magical forcefield around it. I then switch on the light App on my phone before I find the main button for the lamp beside my bed. Both shine an artificial luminosity around my room which guides me over to the door. I would rather walk into school naked than walk through that thing, but here I am having to slowly open it before peeking through into the hall.