Losing Leah

by Tiffany King

“I’m sorry you were left to suffer,” he said, squeezing my hand.

  “It wasn’t that bad,” I answered. “I missed you, Jacob. More than you’ll ever know.”

  “I missed you too, sis. You don’t have to cover for what that woman did though. We all know she deserves to rot in hell.” His words were angry, dripping with hate. “I hope they lock her away for the rest of her life and she gets what she deserves in prison.” He pounded on the steering wheel for emphasis.

  I avoided his words by climbing out of the car. I knew he hated Judy. He’d made no secret of it. Mom hated her. The whole world seemed to hate her. I guess I should hate her too. I wanted to ask about her, but knew that wouldn’t go over well. I couldn’t help wondering where she was at the moment. I knew she was in jail but I had no idea where. Was she sleeping on a cot much like the one I slept on for the last ten years? Did she think of me? Was she sorry? I wondered what I would say to her if I were ever given the chance. Honestly, I wasn’t sure I had the nerve to face her.

  31

  I WOKE up on the first day of spring feeling slightly lethargic. You would think I’d have been excited. After all, it was the last day of school before spring break and soon my family and I would be at the beach. I just needed to power through one more day in hell.

  “Hey, sweetie, you okay?” Mom asked when I dragged myself into the kitchen for breakfast. “You look peaked.”

  I shrugged, popping two slices of bread into the toaster.

  “I think when we return from the beach we’ll schedule an appointment with your counselor at school,” she said, taking a sip of her coffee.

  “Why?” I asked dully, wishing we didn’t have to talk about school so early in the morning.

  She smiled, setting her cup in the sink and placing an arm across my shoulders. “Dr. Marshall and I were talking, and we think maybe you should do some of your classes from home.”

  “Really?”

  “I looked into it and you’ll still have to go to the campus for three classes a day in order to fulfill the state requirements, but the remaining four classes you can do at home. That way you’ll still get some interaction with other students, but maybe then you’ll have a chance to adjust to things easier.”

  It sounded perfect to me. I mean, not going at all would have been ideal, but I would take whatever I could get. I threw my arms around her impulsively and gave her a tight hug. “Thank you, thank you.”

  “I’m taking it you told her,” Jacob said, walking into the kitchen.

  “You knew?” I shoved on his shoulder for keeping it from me.

  “Maybe now you’ll stop moping around.”

  “I don’t mope.” I protested even though I knew he was right. Finding an excuse to show enthusiasm for school had become a chore. If not for my few friends, it would have been unbearable. I’m sure a break was just what I needed. Eventually, I would become old news and could blend in like any other kid.

  “You know, we could have tried making some kind of arrangement so you could have eaten lunch with me and Kevin,” Jacob offered.

  “Are you kidding? Lunch is the only thing that’s keeping me sane, thanks to Molly, Heather, and Katie. As a matter of fact, that’s all I’ll miss about that place. Besides, it’s not like they were about to rearrange the whole school just to make things easier for me.”

  Mom and Jacob exchanged a look. “What?” I asked as my eyes darted between the two of them. “Do you think I’m wrong for wanting to accept Mom’s offer? You just don’t know what it’s like there sometimes. It’s not like I’m quitting school altogether,” I said in a huff.

  Mom stepped in and placed a hand on each of my shoulders, looking me in the eyes. “No one is saying you’re wrong, honey. We all just want what is best for you.” She pulled me in for a hug, squeezing tightly. “You two better get going now. You don’t want to be late.” She turned and walked into the living room as Jacob and I collected our bags.

  We pulled into the school and Jacob took his usual space in the student parking lot. If he ever noticed the way people stared at me he gave no indication, but there they were, on cue. All I could think about was Mom’s news. I could sneak in and do three classes a day. Then everyone would have to find someone else to whisper about. I just didn’t get why the fascination had lasted so long. I was the most boring person ever. If anything they were more focused on me now, eight weeks later, than they had been when I first arrived. Freak and crazy were thrown around so often I began to wonder if I should just save everyone the trouble and change my name.

  Jacob and I parted ways as soon as we walked through the doors since our first-period classes were on completely different ends of the building. The morning passed with few comments and incidents. I’d learned a few weeks prior that hugging the wall while I walked made me a harder target to knock into or to uproot anything I might be holding in my arms. Teenagers sucked.

  Heather and my crew were waiting for me at our usual table when I arrived for lunch. They were alone, of course, which would have driven Dr. Marshall crazy. She could say what she wanted, but I liked that it was just the four of us. It was one of the only times I got any peace at school.

  Heather was already chattering Molly’s and Katie’s ears off, nothing out of the ordinary there. She waved as I sat down without even pausing in her story. Heather didn’t have an off switch. Normally I didn’t care. Her chatter buffered the other cafeteria noise.

  I let her talk until she paused to take a drink of her Coke before I interrupted with my own news. “This is my last lunch with you guys,” I said, taking a bite of my sandwich.

  “What?” Heather asked, nearly choking on her drink.

  “After spring break I’m switching to part-time, which means lunches at home. You guys will just have to come over to my house to hang out,” I said.

  I waited for them to agree. After all, that’s what friends did—support one another. At least, that’s what I thought. All three stared at me though like I was speaking a foreign language.

  “Unless you guys don’t want to come over,” I said uncomfortably. Maybe we weren’t as close as I thought. I wanted the floor to open up and suck me in.

  “Talking to yourself again?” a snide voice asked behind me.

  I nearly groaned out loud. As if things hadn’t become awkward enough. Why couldn’t they just leave us alone? I tried to ignore the voice behind me, wishing that Heather would suddenly start chattering again. Anything to fill the silence, but she and the others sat oddly still.

  “I’m talking to you, freak,” the voice said again, filled with amusement. Her name was Monica. She and her friends had been bullying me from day one. Up until then I had chosen not to acknowledge them, but she had never been this bold.

  I gripped the table tightly before turning around to confront her. I was sick of the pointing, sick of the teasing, I was sick of all of it. One measly day. That was all I needed from them, but they were determined to be assholes to the bitter end. “Can’t you just leave me and my friends alone?” I demanded, rising to my feet.

  Monica looked taken back. Good. I was sick of letting everyone walk all over me. Glancing around, I noticed that we had gained the attention of the entire cafeteria. That was also good. Dr. Marshall had been after me for weeks to stick up for myself. This was my shot to show everyone I was done taking their crap.

  “What friends?” Monica asked sarcastically, finally finding her voice.

  Great, now she had insulted my friends. They did not deserve her crap any more than I did. I surged toward her, coming face-to-face. She recoiled slightly, just as I thought. Feeling powerful, I stood in front of her, ready to defend my friends at all costs. “You know, just because we don’t conform to your clique, doesn’t mean we deserve your shit.” I hated that my voice echoed through the cafeteria, sounding shaky.

  Monica covered her mouth, shaking with laughter. “Oh, lord. You really are crazy,” she said. “I thought maybe you were just pretending, to get more attention or
something, but you totally believe they’re real.”

  I rolled my eyes. She was such a bitch. I turned my eyes apologetically to my friends who looked as horrified as I felt. “Sorry,” I mouthed to them before turning back to Monica who was now laughing manically. Maybe she was crazy. “Just leave us alone,” I told her, turning back to my friends. She wasn’t worth the effort.

  “Hey, Mia, if your friends are really sitting here, would I be able to do this?” Monica asked, sweeping her arm out to take a cheap shot at Heather.

  I couldn’t believe her nerve. My anger got the best of me and I made a move to defend my friend—only, something wasn’t right. Monica’s arm had swung wide and should have connected with the side of Heather’s face. But, it didn’t. Her hand moved through Heather’s head, like she was a ghost. I stood frozen, blinking my eyes to try and understand what I had seen. None of it made sense.

  I could see Monica laughing again, but to my ears there was dead silence.

  I turned toward Heather who looked at me remorsefully. She had nothing to say. It wasn’t like her, not the Heather I had come to know. Molly and Katie wore the same gloomy expression on their faces. I reached out, not believing what I had seen, but Heather shook her head before the three of them abruptly disappeared, leaving nothing but an empty table behind. One solitary lunch remained—mine. All evidence of my friends had been erased.

  Monica grabbed her side, laughing hysterically beside me. Tears of merriment danced in her eyes. My eyes swept across the cafeteria. Everyone else either laughed and pointed or wore cringing looks of pity. Not one face showed an ounce of compassion. I covered my ears, trying to block them out. They were nothing. I needed to get out. Whirling around in a circle, I searched frantically for an escape, but the crowd in the cafeteria closed in on me, sealing me in a tomb.

  Their roaring filled my ears, echoing through my head. It was all I could hear. And their faces—nothing could hide their faces. Their features looked distorted and demonlike. A scream formed in my chest, clawing frantically up my throat and tearing it to shreds. I welcomed the release. It felt so good.

  The bodies swarming me stepped backward and the laughter dissipated. They had gotten the proof they were waiting for. The crazy girl had finally lost her shit. My screams wailed across the cafeteria like a siren, piercing to everyone else but comforting to me. I could see the darkness creeping in, making me smile. The horrified onlookers no longer mattered. My one true friend had come to rescue me. I tumbled forward, thankful to be welcomed into its embrace.

  PART THREE

  32

  I WOKE moments later, or days. I had no idea. All traces of the darkness were gone. I blinked into the bright light above my head, trying to make sense of where I was. My head felt heavy, my brain muddled. I lifted my arm to rub my eyes so I could see. My arm refused to move. I twisted my head to find that my wrist was bound to the bed.

  A filling of dread engulfed me and I slammed my eyes closed, unable to bear the truth. Tears leaked out behind my closed eyelids, flowing down my cheeks. I was still in my basement. I had never left.

  Grief unlike any I had ever felt blanketed me as sobs tore through my body. I knew I should muffle them. If Mother heard me she would be angry. I couldn’t stop my crying. Ripping their way through me seemed to be the only option.

  I could hear the sound of approaching footsteps. The urge to brace myself like I’d always done was there, but I could not find the will to care. I refused to open my eyes. Facing the truth would likely kill me this time.

  A cool hand reached out and touched me. Instinctively, I jerked away. That hand would cause me pain.

  “Mia, you’re going to be okay.” Wait. Where was the low, gravelly voice? This voice I knew. It wasn’t real. It was another manifestation of my betraying head. “Are you in pain?” Her cool fingers touched my wrist as they fumbled with the cuff that held me to the bed. Her voice sounded so much like Dr. Marshall’s it made a new fountain of tears flow down my cheeks.

  A second later my wrist was free. No longer able to resist, I opened my eyes, hoping against disappointment. Dr. Marshall smiled down at me as she made her way to the other side of my bed, unfastening my right arm, which I wasn’t even aware was bound also.

  Peering around the room, I saw that I wasn’t in my basement prison. I was clearly in some kind of hospital room. It wasn’t all a dream. My brain was still muddled and felt like mush. I was confused.

  “What happened?” I asked once she freed my right wrist. “What were these for?” I lifted one of the cuffs before letting it fall back down the side of the bed.

  She scooted the only chair in the room close to my bed and sat down before she answered. “You suffered a breakdown,” she said gently. “I had hoped to prevent it from happening.”

  “A breakdown?” I asked, trying to remember what had happened. My memories were just at the edge of my mind, dancing away as I tried to reach for them. If I had a breakdown, did that mean I really was crazy?

  “Mia, do you remember going to school on Friday?”

  “I think so. I mean, I did go, right?” Friday was a great day from what I remember. It was the day Mom told me I would be changing my school schedule. I remembered how happy I’d been standing in the kitchen with her and Jacob and then we left for school, but for some reason, I couldn’t remember anything after that. The memory was there. I could feel it taunting me, but it refused to come to the surface.

  Dr. Marshall watched me carefully. “Mia, do you remember what happened in the cafeteria?”

  I pulled myself to a sitting position, shaking my head, hoping that would help clear it.

  “Mia, let’s talk about your friends.”

  Her voice sounded like it came from the other side of a tunnel as my memories finally began tugging at the edges of my mind. Horrific memories. I tried pushing them away, but now they refused to stay hidden.

  A familiar roaring filled my ears as the events of Friday unfolded in my mind, completely eclipsing everything else.

  “Mia, breathe,” Dr. Marshall said from the other side of the tunnel that separated us.

  I willed myself to breathe. In, out. In, out. I slowly chanted in my head until the roaring subsided. “Will I ever be normal or am I always going to be crazy?” I finally whispered when I was able to breathe without hyperventilating.

  “Mia, you are as normal as anyone. A person is not crazy. They can be mentally unstable or they can have a sickness that makes them believe something that is not true.”

  “Which am I?” I asked, feeling more tears burning behind my eyes. Years without crying and now I couldn’t keep them at bay.

  She pondered my question for a moment before answering. “Mia, you’re a beautiful soul who suffered a traumatic experience and because of that you see things that are not really there.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I mean that due to the trauma you suffered while growing up, your mind creates hallucinations to help you handle the trauma.”

  I nodded my head. We’d already gone over this. That’s where my Mia had come from. It didn’t explain the others.

  “Your mind has provided you a safety net to help when you enter an atmosphere you’re ill-equipped to handle. This is not your fault, Mia. We pushed you when you weren’t ready. Sending you to school too soon was a decision I deeply regret. I was so intent on probing into your time growing up with Judy that I neglected what was happening right in front of me. Heather and the other friends you created stepped in to do the job I should have done. She protected you when you needed a protector. Until our last session, I had no idea things had escalated to the point they had at school. By the time your mom and I talked it over, it seemed we had waited too long to intervene. We failed you. More importantly … I failed you. I’m sorry for that.”

  “How could they feel so real?” I asked, running a finger along the metal bed rail. “How could I have whole conversations with someone who didn’t even exist? I don’t understand a
ny of this.” I sounded like a child.

  “How does the mind do anything? The Mia you created helped save you from abuse and captivity. She gave you entrance to a world that you were being denied. Heather and the others did the same thing. They’re all very protective over you. I suspected you weren’t ready for school. I wasn’t even sure you were quite ready for the outside world. Your body may have been physically ready, but your head was not. I felt at the time that spending time at home reestablishing your relationships with your family would better help with your recovery. I underestimated how overwhelming that would be for you. I should have waited to sign your discharge papers.”

  I shot her a questioning look, not understanding what she meant. “Why?” I asked.

  “You had already exhibited signs that your brain had manifested other hallucinations while you were in the hospital. My hope was that being released from the hospital would distance you from them. Initially, it appeared I was right. The hallucinations had given you closure and had already taken steps to let you go.”

  Her words were confusing me. I didn’t understand what she was trying to tell me. It was just me at the hospital. My Mia was already gone by then. She wasn’t making any sense. The only person I knew was Gunner. I shook my head in denial.

  Dr. Marshall actually looked pained as she waited for me to figure out what she was trying to get me to understand. I shook my head again, refusing to give her what she wanted.

  “Mia, tell me about Gunner,” she finally said, giving me no out.

  Gunner? What did he have to do with this? Why would she bring him up when we were talking about my broken head and its need to trick me? Gunner was special. He didn’t belong in this conversation. The first stirrings of aggravation rose up in me.

  “You remember how scared you were about all the firsts you’d be tackling?” She spoke softly, pushing me toward a door I didn’t want opened. Not now, not ever. What she was saying was not possible. “You were scared about how you would handle all the things you didn’t understand. Do you remember that?”