Number Thirteen

by Bella Jewel

  He narrows his eyes, but chooses to change the subject. “Very well. What about the markings on your hands?”

  I have nothing for that. I feel my heart beginning to pound as I struggle for an answer. It’s Genevieve who speaks, saving me before I breakdown.

  “We did those.”

  The officer turns to her. “I beg your pardon?”

  “You heard me,” she snaps. “We did them. Before William, we were no more than numbers. It became somewhat of a meaningful thing to us. We decided to tattoo it on ourselves so we never forgot the lives we left behind.”

  The officer sighs, and rubs his forehead. “You girls aren’t going to give me anything on him, are you?”

  “There’s nothing to give. He was good to us,” I say.

  He stares around the group before standing. “You’re all booked to speak to my psychologist; which is part of protocol. Emelyn, if you’re free, you can come with me now.”

  I frown, but I know there’s no way to get out of it. I have to go. I stand, sighing. “Let’s get this over with.”

  ~*~*~*~

  NUMBER THIRTEEN

  “Tell me about Lanthie,” Mary, the psychologist asks.

  I stare at her. She’s older, with greying hair and big brown eyes. She’s lovely, and patient, and willing to hear everything we have to say.

  “She was gorgeous, sweet, funny, and adorable,” I whisper, my voice too broken to show itself.

  “You blame yourself for her death?”

  I feel my eyes harden. “Wouldn’t you?”

  “Of course,” she says, leaning back. “It’s human nature to blame ourselves for things that are out of our control.”

  <. class="calibre_13">“I could have stopped it.” “How?”

  I grind my teeth together. “I could have screamed, I could have fought, I could have done something...”

  “Maybe, but who’s to say it wouldn’t have happened another day, when you weren’t there?”

  She sounds just like William.

  “Can we talk about something else?” I croak.

  “Of course. Tell me about William.”

  “He’s my everything.”

  “Do you want to elaborate?” she encourages.

  “No.”

  “Did William ever hurt you?”

  She’s tricking me, just like the police officers. I look her right in the eye when I answer. “Everything William did, was for us. He changed his world to fit us in.”

  “Do you think William’s actions were all pure?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you think William loves you?”

  I hesitate. “William cares about all of us.”

  “That’s not what I asked, Emelyn.”

  “I don’t know if he loves me,” I bark.

  “Ok, that’s ok. I think we’ve done enough for the day.”

  I stand, not letting her finish. I walk outside and burst into a fit of uncontrollable tears.

  I want him back.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  WILLIAM

  Week Two

  “I know you’re in there, Will!” Ben barks, banging his fists on the door over and over.

  He’s been doing it for a full hour.

  I slide my chair back, tired, sick of putting up with his yelling. I storm down to the front door and I swing it open. He’s standing at the door, panting, his face red with rage.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

  I stare at him.

  “Don’t start the silent treatment with me, Will,” he growls. “Why didn’t you tell me about them?”

  “There’s nothing to tell.”

  “You purchased Thirteen girls!”

  “There’s no proof of that,” I say, my voice deadpan.

  “Fuck, Will, I’m your Brother. You don’t need to hide this from me.”

  “There’s nothing to hide, Benjamin,” I growl.

  He brings his fist up and slams it into the door. “Stop doing this, you don’t have to hide from me.”

  I glare at him. “Why are you here, Ben?”

  “I’m here because you’re slowly rotting in here. You’re not talking to anyone; you’re barely attending meetings. You’re sinking, Will.”

  “I’m fine.”

  He raises his fist, and he hits me. It comes as a shock, and it’s only when blood pours into my mouth that it registers. I turn to him, my gaze livid.

  “That was a mistake,” I bark.

  “Why,” he roars. “Because it dragged some emotion out of you.”

  I don’t speak; I just stand there, panting, my chest filling with rage.

  “You were using slaves.”

  I feel rage fill my body. “They. Weren’t. Slaves.”

  “Then what were they?”

  “I owe you nothing, Benjamin!”

  He flinches. “It’s always the way, isn’t it? Constantly blaming me for leaving you when you were younger.”

  “I did not say that.”

  He steps closer. “You think it, though. Don’t you?”

  “No.”

  “Stop lying to me, Will. You’ve always blamed me for that,” he jerks a finger at my eye. “I wasn’t there. I was the golden child. I got sent away and you were left with our fucked up Mother.”

  I flinch again. My fists clench so tightly my fingers ache. “Don’t,” I warn.

  “Why? Because it might bring up something you don’t want to face?”

  My body begins to tremble.

  “Admit it, Will. You didn’t tell me about the girls, because you’re still angry with me. A part of you always will be.”

  He’s pushing me too far.

  “I let them hurt you, I let you suffer. Admit it!” he roars.

  “You’re right,” I bellow. “I do fucking blame you. I shouldn’t have been left behind. I shouldn’t have had my eye burned. I shouldn’t have had to face Dad’s anger. I shouldn’t have had to be Mom’s carer. I shouldn’t have had to be second best.”

  Benjamin stills, and his bottom lip twitches. “You think it doesn’t bother me?” His voice is a low whisper. “You think I didn’t live wondering if you were ok?”

  “It wasn’t enough,” I roar. “If it was, you would have stayed.”

  “I had no choice.”

  “There’s always a choice.”

  “No, William. There isn’t.”

  “Get out of my house, Ben.”

  He shakes his head. “No.”

  “I’m not going to say it again, get out.”

  He steps up close. “I said fucking no!”

  I lift my fist and I drive it into his nose, causing a loud crunch to fill the room. He snarls and hits me hard in the mouth. Then we’re slammed against the wall, our bodies wild, our fists flying. He shoves me into a nearby corner unit, causing lamps and ornaments to smash onto the ground. I bellow in rage, and wrap my hands around his throat, pressing him against the wall.

  “Get the fuck out!” I spit.

  “I’m sorry,” he rasps. “Is that what you want from me, Will? Do you want to know how much I suffer because of what happened? Do you want to know how much it hurt to be dragged away from you? You are my twin, William. You’re not just my brother; you’re my other half. If you want me to say it, I’ll say it. I’m sorry.”

  My legs feel weak suddenly, and my chest seizes. I drop my hands and he reaches up, rubbing his neck. I feel my body sink to the floor, as reality finally sets in. I’ve lost everything. Ben comes down with me, wrapping his arms around me.

  “I’m so fucking sorry, Will.”

  I say nothing.

  There’s nothing more to say.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  NUMBER THIRTEEN

  Week Two

  “You’re a bunch of freaks!” a group of males bark at uale“Is.

  We went out, trying to find some semblance of a normal life. A group of men decided to join us at our table, and decided after one attempt at dancing with us, that we’re freaks. When t
heir hands tried to touch us, we flinched. When they tried to press their bodies against ours, we shied away. We’re not those kinds of girls. We’re not normal.

  “Hey,” Genevieve growls. “Fuck you.”

  “I wouldn’t fuck you if you paid me,” one of the guys laughs.

  My chest aches and I put the drink I have in my hand down and turn, shoving through the crowd of people to get away. The moment I feel the fresh air hit my face; I breathe it in. My entire body is weak and wobbly, letting me know I’m at the end of my rope. I just want to go back. It doesn’t matter how much they try to tell me I don’t need William, they’re wrong.

  “Hi.”

  I turn and see a young man from the group standing beside me. He’s got shaggy brown hair, brown eyes, and he’s about six foot tall and lean.

  “Hi,” I murmur.

  “I’m sorry about what they did to you all in there.”

  Is he really? I doubt it.

  “I’m just going home,” I say.

  “Listen,” he says, stepping in front of me. “I’m truly sorry. They can be assholes.”

  I stare at him, and he seems genuine.

  “It’s ok,” I whisper.

  “Will you let me make it up to you? Come and get a coffee with me?”

  I hesitate, I really don’t want to go and do anything but go home and curl into my bed. But we’re being encouraged to live as normally as possible. At least, that’s what Mary says.

  “O-Ok. Maybe just one.”

  He beams and points over the road. “There’s one right there, your friends can find you when they’re done.”

  I nod and follow him over to the small, quaint coffee shop. We order and take a seat on the small rounded table outside. I run my fingertips over the red and white-checkered table covering.

  “So, tell me about yourself?”

  I look up at him. “Um, well, my name is Emelyn.”

  “That’s nice,” he smiles. “I’m Tim.”

  “Ah, ok.”

  “What do you do for a living, Emelyn?”

  “I...nothing right now.”

  He nods, looking a little confused. “That’s ok. What do you do for fun?”

  “Um, well, I enjoy the beach.”

  “Oh me too,” he says. “I used to go there all the time when I was a child.”

  For the next hour, Tim goes on and on about himself. I’m uncomfortable and I’m struggling to find any enjoyment at all. Tim is self-centered and plain.

  It only makes me realize just how in depth and beautiful William is.

  And just how much I miss him.

  ~*~*~*~

  NUMBER THIRTEEN

  Week Three

  “She’s depressed,” I whisper to Reign.

  We’re staring at Number Twelve, who is slowly but surely sinking. She’s withdrawn from us all, sleeping most of the day and rarely eating. She hardly speaks and when she does it’s in one-word answers. I don’t know how to heknoonlp her or what to do. She’s closing in on herself, and I feel as though we’re losing her.

  “I don’t know what to do,” Reign whispers back.

  “Neither do I.”

  I sigh, feeling helpless. The past two and a half weeks have been long and draining. We’re barely getting by. We see Mary often, and even though she’s helping us to make sense of our lives, we feel like we don’t just fit in. Everything we do, we’re treated differently. People look at us like we’re strange, like we’re not one of them.

  “I lost my job,” Genevieve sighs, coming in and sitting beside us on the couch.

  I look over to her. She started work a week ago, trying to get her life back together after Mary’s instruction. Her job was only as a waitress, but each night she came home, she seemed angry and frustrated. Like she just couldn’t cope with the stress.

  “What happened?” I ask.

  “They said I’m not social enough, that I’m too bossy and too angry.”

  I shake my head. They don’t understand her.

  “It’ll be ok, we’ll find a way around this.”

  “I feel like there is no way,” she whispers, seeming more venerable then I’ve ever seen her.

  “There’s a way,” I encourage.

  She shakes her head and stands. “I’m not so sure about that anymore.”

  I watch her walk away, and my heart seizes.

  We’re just slowly falling.

  ~*~*~*~

  NUMBER THIRTEEN

  Week Four

  “Have another one,” Genevieve encourages, pushing a vodka and orange towards me.

  I take the drink and swallow it down. It does seem to ease the pain.

  “Where’s Jaybelle?” I ask, staring around the crowded bar.

  We’ve tried for a second time to come out, pathetically attempting to make a life for ourselves. So far, the night hasn’t been too bad. We’ve kept to ourselves and just focused on spending time together.

  “Look at her,” a loud male voice laughs. “Pathetic.”

  I turn my attention to the table behind us, and I see Jaybelle with her head lowered, her cheeks red.

  “She couldn’t put out if she was paid to,” the man laughs.

  He’s not an overly attractive man, but he’s got a good trailing of women around him. My guess? He’s got money. I stand, slowly walking over, worried about Jaybelle’s mind right now. She’s weak. She’s fragile. She’s broken. She doesn’t have the strength to deal with more torture.

  “You probably wouldn’t even know what a cock is,” he taunts. “A girl like you belongs on the ground, on your knees. You’re nothing more than a good-looking toy; you’re certainly dead in the personality department. Maybe the guys would like to see you on your knees, so go on, get on them princess. Let us give you a try.”

  Slowly, like it’s all she’s ever known, Jaybelle lowers herself to her knees. Anger builds in my chest as I rush over. I drop to my knees beside her, clutching her hands.

  “Look at me, Jaybelle.”

  “Oh look,” the man smirks. “Two of them.”

  I hear a loud crack and jerk my head up to see Genevieve driving her fist into herp widththe man’s face. He roars and stumbles backwards. Pride fills my chest and I turn my attention back to Jaybelle. “Look at me,” I whisper again.

  She lifts her head, her eyes filled with tears. I reach my hand out and slowly she takes it.

  “Don’t you ever get on your knees for anyone again.”

  I raise her up and with her comes her spirits and her hopes.

  I’ll not let anyone treat her that way again. I vow it.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  WILLIAM

  It’s been four weeks.

  I can’t breathe without them.

  I’ve failed.

  ~*~*~*~

  NUMBER THIRTEEN

  “I can’t explain it to you,” Mary whispers to the police officer. “I wish I could but I can’t. He’s done for them what years of therapy couldn’t do. Somehow, he’s healed something in them. They trust him. They need him.”

  I’m standing in the hall, waiting to speak with Mary. I can hear her talking and my heart hammers as her words sink in. We need him. I could have told them that a month ago.

  “We’ve got nothing, the case is empty,” the officer says. “There’s no more we can do. The girls are free to go.”

  I turn and rush down the halls and into the room where all the girls are waiting. We were called in this morning and now I know why.

  “We...we...we...” I stammer.

  “What is it?” Ryleigh asks.

  “We’re free,” I rasp.

  Their faces light up. Their moods shift. By the time the officer comes in and lets us know that the investigation is closed and we’re free to go, we’re already on our feet, waiting by the door. We rush outside, our hearts pounding, our bodies alive for the first time in a month.

  Then we realize we’re alone.

  We all stop, our faces dropping. What do we do? Where do we go?
We have no homes. No jobs. Poor families. We’re alone in the world and like a brick - it hits us all.

  “What do we do?” Jaybelle whispers.

  “They said we can stay in the house until we get on our feet,” Ellie says.

  “I don’t want to stay there,” Reign mumbles.

  I turn to them all and my heart hammers as the words tumble from my lips. “I say we go back.”

  “Go back?” Genevieve says, her eyes wide.

  “To William.”

  They all stare at me, like it isn’t something they thought we could do. I take the moment of silence to speak.

  “He was like our family, he saved our lives. We can stay out here and we can be alone in the world, or we can go back to him and have the chance to make our lives whole again.”

  “What if he doesn’t want us?” Jaybelle asks.

  “Do you really believe that?” I say, meeting her gaze.

  She shakes her head.

  “He was taking care of us,” Peta suddenly says, her voice soft. “He was protecting us from all that is bad.”

  “He taught us to be better people,” Reign whispers.

  “I don’t have a life to go to,” Ellie croaks.

  idtem"220;I say we go back,” Genevieve suddenly announces.

  We all turn to her, our mouths agape. She is the last person I thought would agree to going back. She’s the one who struggled with him the most.

  “You think it’s a good idea?” I gasp.

  “Yes, I think we should go back. He saved us. He gave us a chance to live again. I don’t want to become a prostitute; I don’t want to spend my life running and feeling scared. I want to get myself together, maybe get a decent job, hell, maybe meet someone. I don’t have the means to do that here, but with him, with his guidance, I do.”