SCARS

by Jaimie Roberts

  I grab his head and lightly kiss his forehead. I thought I was going through pain, but it’s nothing compared to his… Nothing can ever compare.

  “In that moment of hesitation, I saw the anger in those fuckers’ eyes that I had dared to come into their domain. I had to react instantly. I shot each one until there were no bullets left, and even then, I kept shooting. I had to will my feet to move before someone found me and shot me dead too. So, I ran. I ran into the wilderness and kept on running. I buried the gun about a mile and a half away and caught the early morning bus home as if nothing had happened. They were found, and I was arrested as a suspect for their murders. After about a week, the gun was found, but it somehow disappeared afterwards. The detective in charge told me that they had to arrest me for something, so they invented a drug charge to put me away. The charge was possession of a Schedule V controlled substance, which is a Class A misdemeanor. The irony is that since I was a first-time offender, the courts normally wouldn’t have given me any time at all. Since I was literally getting away with murder, however, I agreed to sign a plea deal, sentencing me to 10 months. It was a great deal all considered, and it had me being released from the Juvenile Detention Center before turning eighteen. The detective knew I killed them. Hell, they all did. But, for some reason, they gave me leniency—and a lot of it.”

  I stroke his face. “How could they not have after what you’d gone through? You didn’t murder those men; you were just protecting your sister and anyone else they might have wanted to harm next. You saved other girls just like your sister from meeting the same fate.”

  He grabs my hand and holds it in his. “I never pretended to be anything that I’m not. I told you I had done things. I am a murderer. I may not have spent time in jail for it, but I am a murderer still, and I would do it all again in a heartbeat.”

  “What happened to your sister while you were in jail?” I have to know. I’m desperate to know that she is still okay despite everything that she’s been through.

  “Our dear father had an uncle … an uncle who hated him. When he and his wife read about the news in the papers, they contacted the authorities and told them they were family. They didn’t know anything about where we were until it hit the news. They asked for full custody, and after the authorities found out they were definitely family, Charlotte was released into their care. They all moved out here, and Charlotte changed her name. I stayed in jail until I was released about two and a half years ago, and then I came out here as well.”

  “Your sister is living in Logan?” I ask, surprised.

  He closes his eyes as if in pain and nods. “Yes. She’s been here all this time, but not as Charlotte… You know her as Christine.”

  I gasp, pulling away from him. “What?”

  I can see the panic in his eyes, so he reaches for me. “No, J or Jarrod or whatever the hell your name is… I want answers. Did she befriend me on purpose?”

  “Yes.”

  I shake my head in shock, but then, this all makes sense too. Christine and I were always like chalk and cheese, but I thought it was what made us jell well together. All this time, though, she was just playing me for a fool. “Why?”

  He took a deep breath. “Our last revenge was to hurt our dad in the worst way possible. He had moved on to a new family. He took you and Elle in like you girls were his own. We were both angry and felt betrayed. He was the reason why Charlotte went through that ordeal. If only he had looked after us, none of what happened would have ever taken place. We wanted to punish him, so Charlotte befriended you and she watched you and your family. It became quickly apparent that you were the apple of daddy’s eye.” He breathes in deeply through his nose, and I can tell he’s in pain. What he will say next will break us; I can just feel it.

  “We both thought it was a good idea for me to follow you and start befriending you myself. I didn’t think you would go for the idea. I told Charlotte it was crazy, but she asked me to try. I could hardly say no to her after what she’d been through. Besides, I was angry at him… Honestly, I was angry with all of you for having the one thing Charlotte and I never had. You were just the spark that ignited that anger even further. My plan was simple. I was to get you to trust me and take your innocence away. After that, we were going to pay a visit to our doting daddy and tell him all about his not-so-innocent daughter.”

  I wince when as says those words. I trusted him, and I let him in. All he wanted to do was take away my virtue … only to expose me later. I move away from him, but he grabs me—a panicked look in his eyes. “Please, Lily. You have to believe me when I say that once I met you… Once I saw what a beautiful person you really are, I couldn’t do it.”

  I close my eyes and shake my head. “But you did, J. You got what you came for the moment you took me to your kidnap spot and robbed me of my virginity.”

  “You don’t understand. I was trying to do right by my sister, but I had already fallen in love with you. I couldn’t do it for the reasons I originally intended, but the selfish man I am wanted to do it so that I could feel love. For the first time in my life, I wanted to feel loved by a good woman, and you gave that to me, Lily. You gave me that and more.”

  I dip my head down toward my toes. I don’t want to look at him. I know that if I do I will cave. I want to believe what he says is true, but too many people who I thought loved me and who I truly loved have done nothing but betray me.

  All I have left now is my mother.

  So, without another word, I pull away from him and walk into my parent’s bedroom. J follows. I can feel him even now. As always, I am so closely in-tune with him. I turn around, motioning to the gun. “Give me the gun.” He continues to stare. “Give me the gun, J.” He doesn’t know why I’m asking, but he trusts me enough to hand it over. I take it from his hand and hold it in my own. Once secure, I pick up the phone and dial the number.

  “Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency.”

  I stare into the love of my life’s eyes as I answer. I roll off my address and end by saying, “I just shot my father. Please hurry,” before putting the phone down. I then do something I never thought I would ever do. I pick the gun up and aim it at a confused looking J. “You need to leave. The police will be here soon.” He comes towards me, but I hold the gun steady. “Don’t come near me,” I say, gritting my teeth. I so desperately want his arms around me, but nothing can fix what he’s done to me. Nothing can take away the betrayal of knowing that all this time I was just a game to them. I had done nothing wrong but love people … and this is how I am treated in return.

  No more.

  So, I swallow the bile in my throat and utter the words I never thought I would ever have to utter to J. “You said all along that I called the shots. You said that if I asked you to go that you would, and I would never have to see you again …”

  He steps towards me, pain in his eyes. “Lily, please …”

  “Don’t!” I shout. “Don’t make this harder than it already is. You came to break my family apart and you did. Congratulations.” I wince at my own words. They are hurtful words—terrible, fucking unforgivably hurtful words, but I can’t help the venom that leaves my lips. I watch as I finally break him as well as myself. This should help me feel better after everything he’s done to me, but all I feel is numb. I’m tired of feeling. I’m tired of the constant pain in my chest.

  With a shaky hand and fresh hot tears in my eyes, I stare at J with the gun pointed. “I want you to leave. I never want to see you again. Go now, and don’t come back. This is me asking, J. Please respect my wishes.” I feel the tears fall as I watch the man I love dip his head to the floor—defeated. I did this to him, but then he has done this to us.

  I thought he may try to reason with me or try to fight me, but I’m not surprised when he simply turns away and walks out of the room without a backward glance.

  Within seconds, I hear the sirens, so I quickly wipe the gun to try and hide J’s finger prints and then replace them with my own. Onc
e that’s done, I run back into my bedroom, quickly pick up my dad’s hand, place it on the gun, and then discard the gun on the floor by my dad’s body before running down the stairs.

  Just as the cars are pulling up outside and a cop is getting out of the car and walking to the house, I open the front door and step out before collapsing into his arms.

  Two months later

  Jarrod Walker

  It’s been 8 weeks since I tore her heart in two. Eight long, arduous fucking weeks of torturous pain. I went into this with my eyes wide open. I knew what I was doing. Now? Now I’m a pathetic nobody—a person given the chance to hold a precious beam of light after living in darkness for so many years. I had the chance to redeem myself, but I was so lost in “righting” the wrongs that I did everything but. I didn’t right any wrongs. I created new ones. I only wanted to make Charlotte happy again, so that she could shut that part of her life away, never to return to it again. But, in the end, I’ve deeply hurt the one person who could have been my salvation. I thought that once this was all over, I could move on and try to be happy for once, but that’s never going to happen now. I’ve ruined that chance. She was right when she said that I had succeeded. Her words cut more deeply than anything else I have ever had to endure, and the scars these wounds have left behind far surpass all the rest combined. I know I deserve it though. I deserve every last cut. No sense in denying that I was doing anything but trying to taint her. I knew my father thought she was special, but I didn’t realize that it ran as deeply as it did. He was obsessed with her … just as much as I am. My reasoning differs from his, but the fact still remains the same. No matter how much the thought disgusts me, I guess the apple never really does fall far from the tree.

  I close my eyes, cursing myself for ever letting it get that far. At first, no one could console me—not even my sister. She tried, but I ended up pushing her away … just like I push everyone away. She didn’t give up on me, though. She’s a stubborn one, my sister. A fucking pain in the ass, too. I smile at the thought. She kept coming, and little by little, I let her back in. I don’t blame my sister for everything that’s happened, but I must admit a part of me did for a while.

  I sit, staring at a photograph I took from my phone last week. A photo of Lily. She was coming out of her house at the time, looking tired and sad. I noticed that her hair didn’t look as vibrant as it used to. Her eyes were sullen and puffy, and her lips looked dry. It was still Lily in the photo, but not my Lily. Not the lively, happy, spirited girl I once knew and fell in love with. She looked broken, and it fucking tore me up inside that I had something to do with that.

  I have kept my promise to this day, but I can’t help but follow her, watch her, and protect her like I used to. What Lily doesn’t know is that I had a camera hidden in one of the picture frames in her room. She’s not there anymore, and I know the reason why. I can’t blame her for not wanting to go into the room which holds the most unforgettable and painful memories. I wouldn’t go in there either.

  In any case, I keep my distance, so she won’t know I’m there, but I still can’t help the pull I have to go to her and break my promise every single time I see her. I think—in a sense—that I must love to torture myself by watching her. She’s like the first bite of chocolate. You marvel at the taste, texture, and flavor, but you know once you swallow that delicate smoothness, you will be back for another bite. That’s how she makes me feel every time I see her. And what makes this whole thing worse is that I know she’s suffering. I know she’s finding it hard to get up day after day and plaster that beautiful fake smile on her face as she visits the hospital, goes to the library, and sits and drinks coffee in her favorite coffeehouse. Each time, I want to go to her, wrap her in my arms, and tell her that I am here still … that I will always be here, and I will always love and protect her. But she’s not mine to protect anymore, and by fuck, does that tear my heart in two.

  “Why don’t you just visit her already? I can see she’s miserable without you.” I look towards Charlotte … my tough little cookie. Her beauty remains the same, but the fragility is evident now that she knows the full truth. It hit her hard, too. She didn’t want to love the rich little firecracker any more than I did. I guess we both failed that test.

  “You’re avoiding it just as much as I am.”

  “Only because she’s not going to college. You know she’s taken a year off to look after her mother? Her mother can’t be happy about that.”

  “That’s no excuse, Charlotte. I am one thing, but you… I bet she will talk to you. You’re not the one who made her fall in love with you. You’re not the one—”

  She stops me with her arm. “But I am the one. Don’t you get it? She told you she loved me, right? Don’t you think she would feel exactly the same way for me as she does for you?”

  “So, that’s why you won’t see her?”

  It was her turn to sigh. “I want to. I almost did—twice—two weeks ago and then again last week. I chicken out every time.”

  I grit my teeth. “You need to do it, Charlotte. She needs someone. She doesn’t have anyone apart from her mother, and her mother is still in the hospital. She has to go back to that house … the same house that I killed her father—our father—in and deal with all that shit alone. I fucking hate knowing she has to go back there. I know she can’t stand it. I see her hesitate every time she puts that key in the door, and it tears me up inside to know she’s suffering, and there isn’t a goddamned thing I can do about it.”

  “Okay,” Charlotte says, placing a hand on my shoulder. “I’ll do it. If it will make you happier, then I will bite the bullet and talk to her. I know it has to be done. I’ve just been avoiding it.” She closes her eyes. “I don’t want her to be angry with me. At one point, I thought I would feel happy seeing the hurt and betrayal in her eyes, but now I realize just how selfish I was.”

  “Both of us were,” I say, interrupting anything else she might say.

  She squeezes my arm. “Tomorrow morning, when she goes to Bernardo’s for coffee, I’ll pay her a visit. Maybe if she’s in a public place it might keep her from stabbing me.” She laughs, but I know she doesn’t find any of this funny.

  I pat her hand. “You’ll be fine. I have every faith that you can say the right things to her. I know she won’t forget anything, but I hope in time that she will forgive.”

  Charlotte nods her head, and I go back to brooding with my one beer. Jace is meeting me here in a few, and Charlotte apparently has a date with that chump, Jerry. I didn’t like him at first, but after what he did for Lily on the night of the dance, I had to hand it to him. I grumbled like a protective brother should, but in the end, I had to let her go. If she can find happiness with him, then who am I to stand in her way? Besides, I can’t exactly call myself “role model of the year” after the way I’ve treated Lily. She is and always will be the one that got away. Never in a million years could I have envisaged it would end up the way that it did. I was broken before, but now I’m completely fragmented. All that remains are the tiniest of pieces … so tiny that it would be impossible to put them back together again. When I went into this, I knew it would be hard. I knew that, at times, it would be rough, but it would have all been worth it to see Charlotte happy again. I was prepared for the hard work and effort it would take to achieve our goal.

  I have scars that will forever be a reminder of my past… But I certainly wasn’t prepared for the scars which were about to form my future.

  I get up as I do every morning and go through the endless ritual day by day. I don’t want to, but I have to. I haven’t slept in my room since the day my father died. Instead, I closed it off, and I haven’t even gone near it. I sleep in Elle’s bedroom now. It’s the only way I can stay sane, and it’s the only way I can still keep a part of my sister alive.

  After the shooting happened, I told the police that I was looking into my father’s past when he caught me. A fight ensued, and I managed to grab the gun he had from him a
nd shoot him. They could see there had been a fight. I had finger marks on my neck and an arm that needed fifteen stitches. They also—as I had hoped—found only our two sets of fingerprints on the gun. J’s had been wiped clean. It was self defense… That I know to be true, but I lied to the police to protect J. No matter how deeply his betrayal cut me, I could never tell on him. He had been in jail before. He was well-known to authorities. I wanted to keep him under the radar as much as possible.

  My mom is still in the hospital, and the only light at the end of a very long, dark tunnel for me is that she finally woke up a few days ago. She knew nothing of what had happened. At first, I shielded her from the pain, but after a couple of days passed, I had to give in and tell her. She thought that the scar on my arm was from the accident. When she found out the real cause, she broke down. After many tears mourning Elle’s passing, we lay together for a couple of hours in silence. We needed to give each other that.

  In my time away from the hospital, I have been trying to organize Elle’s funeral. The doctor said that my mother will need some physical therapy, so she will need to stay in for a few more weeks. She can, however, be released for the funeral in a week if all is going well. She will need to be in a wheelchair, but that’s okay. I think Mom and I just want to be able to say goodbye. It’s what Elle would have wanted.