I want to hit him. Make him feel it, make it hurt. I wish that I could grow three feet taller. I wish that I could make him feel small, like he has me for so many years. My heart can’t take the torment any longer. He can’t go and leave as he pleases anymore, and though it hurts to push him away, I know it’s what I need to do. It hurts too much to love him.
Without a word, I press my palms to the cold floor to push myself up to my feet. I don’t make a peep as I walk towards the door, grasping the brass knob in my hand. I hesitate – a part of me gravitates towards him while my stubborn heart pulls away. My mind, for once, is in the wrong. I usually question every echo from my heart, but I think it’s right this time. I’m ignoring my mind. It isn’t the reasonable source, anyway. It’s too fractured at this point, that even my heart seems more reliable. Broken, battered, and bruised – it’s still more dependable than my conscience.
“Get out,” I sigh, standing beside the open door, my arm extended towards the opening like I’m a host, and he’s my guest.
I hate him right now. I can’t stand the sight of him, and it makes me hate myself even more. “Leave! Leave!” I want to scream, but the words are like hardened concrete on my tongue. Every word that I’ve ever wanted to say to him remains in the cage I’ve kept them in for most of my life.
He stays, kneeling on the floor where I left him. He’s vulnerable right now, and to think, I’ve let him control much of my existence. I let him mold me in ways nobody ever should. Yet, here I am, feeling remorse for this man – if you can even call him that.
“You can’t make me leave,” he purrs, his voice yanking me from my stubbornness – but he can only get so far. My cat. My friend. The last straw.
He approaches me, and my shoulders curl in as I cower. I could scream for help – I could hit him, claw at his face, rip out his throat for all the poison that drips from it – but I do no such thing. I stand, frozen, in the face of the man that’s managed to hold my young heart captive since I was sixteen and vulnerable. He used my brokenness for his own gain, and he won’t stop until I give him one final push – though it really isn’t a push at all, but a copout.
A coward’s way out.
He grasps my face in his large hands… the ones that can make me feel safe while they harm me – the unlovable, skinny, sick, sad little girl that requires pain, because any other act, love or otherwise, is lost on me. I don’t know how to feel unless it hurts. That’s why this relationship became such an integral part of my life, because Liam only knows how to destroy me. He’s the vandal of my heart – the loose end that I can never tie off, and the longer I’ve known him, the more unraveled I’ve become.
“Get out!” I squeak, my voice smaller than I’d like it to be.
“No,” he says, malice dripping from his tongue as he mocks me with those black eyes. They dance like fire, his brow furrowed as his fingers sink into my neck. “Not until you give me what I want.” He breathes out, his hot breath against my neck as his lips graze the goose bump raised flesh. His fingers tangle in my hair, and I wince when he yanks my head back, threatening to break my neck clean in half. “Why are you making me beg, baby?”
The fight… I’m not sure where it comes from. I feel like a bag of bones as I’m forced across my apartment - my body banging into walls, tables, and countertops as I’m dragged to my unmade bed. He flings me onto the mattress, and turns, retrieving several scarfs before he approaches me. I sob as I’m tied down. I still don’t scream. I don’t want him to get in trouble; just like I didn’t when I thought I fell in love with him so many years ago.
When bad things happen, I silently ask God if this is what will get me to the next phase of my life. If these misfortunes are a stepping stone, or a ladder, or a beacon pointing me in the right direction. There must be an escape, somewhere… at some point, the bad things have to stop, right?
He unties my bruised wrists and ankles once he’s dressed – his suit not showing so much as a wrinkle. My bruised body remains on the bed, my legs splayed as shame seeps from my broken form. There, he leaves me. Not bothering to clean me up, or to kiss away the tears that he caused. He never bothers looking my way – avoiding the salty sadness that inevitably flows from my bleary eyes. The sobs have turned to whimpers, and just like that, he’s gone.
Loneliness is dangerous. It’s plagued me for most of my life and has caused me to look for love in all the wrong places. My body was made to be used, and my mind was meant to be broken. The universe played a cruel trick on me, and it won. I already gave up long ago, might as well make it official. When the sharks keep nipping at your heels, there’s only so long that you can kick your legs until you’re too tired to fight. The sharks were always going to eat you. It was only a matter of time until you’d surrender yourself.
Some are able to transcend – rise above – defeat everything that pains them, but I’m afraid that I’m too weak. My mind was never strong enough to carry me to the shore, and my heart was too big to ever allow me to become one of them: a shark - paying no mind to my prey as I trap them between my sharp, pointed teeth.
The pills feel heavy in my hand – heavier than normal, and I can’t help but wonder if it’s because this is it. An end to me, and everything that I am.
My eyes flit to the mirror, and I take a moment to look at myself. My white-blonde hair is styled like a pixie’s, and my brown, bloodshot eyes are surrounded with black liner – my lips pursed and blood red. I decided to wear the black silk slip and midnight lace robe Liam had bought for me earlier this year along with the “E” necklace he gave me last Christmas. I hope he finds me, cold as ice and white as snow with my fingers clutched to the letter I wrote him. He’ll come back once I send him the text. Timing, it’s everything, and my farewell, if anything, will have an impact on the man that took a hand in destroying me.
Candlelight is the only thing that guides me back to my bed where Labyrinth is wrapped in a white towel on the pillow.
Several handfuls, and I’m able to get down the sleeping pills. I lie my head down, and watch the shadows stretch across the ceiling. The rain patters against the tin roof, and I pull my favorite Gibson over to me. My fingers clumsily strum my guitar as a tear rolls over my cheek.
Goodbye world, for you were never a friend of mine.
Chapter 9
What did I expect to see when I died?
Golden gates, intricately engraved amidst masses of ethereal angels? Back to back memories of my life up until twenty-eight? My funeral? Liam shedding a tear as he said goodbye?
Nathan.
His love delivered me from evil before it was yanked from my fingertips. He held on. He tried. But, there was only so long that he could until he couldn’t take it anymore.
I could’ve told him not to go, like I had begged him so many times before, but who was I to dictate the choice that he made? He was hurting – diseased since he was a baby. Born sick, he had no choice but to find a silver lining in everything. That’s why I found him so beautiful.
All I am is my conscience, nothing more. My existence has dissipated, my body being traded for nothing. I’m left with only the voice in my head. The same voice that tells me that I can’t. That I’m not good enough. That reminds me of every mistake I’ve ever made. It’s the voice that subsequently became my cheerleader the more that I fought against it, because it was my mother all along, and boy did I love proving her wrong. She was the voice in my mind, and now it seems that she’ll also accompany me in death. The thought is horrifying. Then again, I am the fool that pulled the plug without knowing what was on the other side.
Time doesn’t exist in this black infinity, or so it seems. I’m not quite sure how much time passes before the light appears in the distance, shining against the floor and walls of what I’m assuming is my blank mind. I still don’t feel a thing as I move towards it. It’s like I’m floating, no body attached. This must be my soul, leading me from death to the afterlife. I’m not afraid. I’m not even a little anxious.
Tap�
�� I feel weightless. Tap… I feel happy.
Tap… I feel free.
Chapter 10
It seems like I’ve been blind my entire life and am seeing for the first time. Everything is a bright blur when I open my eyes.
Tap, tap, tap…
I blink my bleary eyes. I’m beyond groggy. Exhausted. The free, weightless feeling is gone. I feel my body again, slowly, but it’s there. Running a hand over my eyes, I attempt to sit up, but a gentle hand grasps my arm. “Slowly, Emily.” Tap.
I say something, but the words coming out of my mouth aren’t clear. At least not for me. Tap. The woman above me becomes more visible – her kind, wrinkled features more prominent. Tap. “You’re lucky,” she says, but I ignore her – my eyes flitting towards the window. The tapping comes from beyond it, where a crow pecks at the glass.
“Do you know where you are?” She asks. Clumsily, I lift my hand – pointing an unsteady finger towards the window. Carefully, she grasps my wrist before placing my hand on my chest and patting it gently. “You’ll be alone for a bit while I finish my rounds.” Then, she whips out of the room with her clipboard.
I lift my head shakily as I survey my surroundings. The sea green curtain hanging between my bed and the next sways gently, and I notice a pair of black boots beneath it. “Hello?” I grit out. My throat is on fire.
The person on the other side begins whistling, and my eyes follow the boots before a familiar face peeks out from behind the curtain.
“You?” I say, frowning when I consider his mysterious eyes.
“Me.” He says nonchalantly, smiling as he takes a seat in the chair across the room.
Now the crow makes sense as I stare at Rowan. He’s handsome as ever, wearing a black leather jacket, holey jeans, and a flannel shirt. His hair is amuck, but it fits perfectly with his 5 o’clock shadow. “What are you doing here?” I ask.
He shrugs, “I come to play for the cancer kids every Saturday. It’s in the other wing, but I saw the paramedics bring you in.”
“How long have I been out?”
“Little over two weeks,” he says, his tone unwavering as he picks at a tear in his jeans. “I was standing out there by the ER drop-off. You know, where the ambulances go to unload patients. I saw your blonde hair, and that little tattoo on your wrist. What is that? A sparrow?”
I shake my head slowly, disregarding his question. I should feel ashamed, but I don’t. Instead, I’m pissed. I thought that was it, my farewell set in stone. But, unfortunately, I can’t do anything right.
Not even kill myself.
We sit in silence for a while; me staring out the window, and Rowan staring at me as he taps a finger against the arm of the chair. It’s awkward. I can feel his eyes. “Why are you here?” I snap, shooting him a glare from across the room.
He shrugs, “I have an offer for you.”
Retrieving the bed’s remote, I elevate myself into a sitting position. “Okay,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest. “What?”
“I’m going on a trip. A road trip, actually, and I was hoping that you’d join me.”
I scoff. “Are you serious? I don’t know you.”
“That’s the thing,” he responds. “I don’t really know anyone around here. Much less anyone like you who shares the same passion. Or passions, I should say. I’m going to be visiting cemeteries across the US. I have a map set up, and everything. I’m just looking for a partner in crime.”
“I can’t.” I murmur, my head falling back onto the pillow as my eyes find the crow once more.
“Why? What would you be leaving behind?”
I frown. Good question.
Liam isn’t here. I sent the text. He didn’t care. My cat’s dead. My heart, beyond broken as I recall the event that led me to swallowing a bottle of pills. “I have to work.” I defend myself. “And… and I have to play at the bar.”
“Those things can wait,” He retorts, and I suck in a breath as I blink away my unshed tears. “Life’s too short to repeat a daily routine, wouldn’t you say?”
“I don’t have any money!” I sneer, my cheeks flushing as I divert my eyes. “I’m not like you. I don’t have a nana who will buy me whatever my little heart desires.”
He laughs. “You’re defensive. Why is that? Do I intimidate you?”
Scoffing, my eyes lock onto his. “You wish.”
“Then come with me.” He shrugs, a slight smile pulling at his lips as he retrieves a black backpack from beside him. Standing, he approaches me. “These are yours.”
Frowning, I yank the backpack from his hand. I dig through the clothes and notice that they are indeed mine. “How’d you…”
“Doesn’t matter,” he responds, an obscure gleam in his eye.
My heart pulls me towards the unknown – steadily beating faster at the thought of traveling with this man… this stranger. What would it hurt? Before I took those pills, I was begging for something, anything, to yank me from my mundane existence. The town, the people, the family who isn’t really a family at all. He’s certain about one thing – there’s nothing to lose. If he goes crazy and kills me, I was already gunning for myself, anyway.
“Okay,” I say, a deep exhale flowing from my lips as I stare down at the backpack. “I’ll go.”
“Why are we leaving through the window?” I ask.
Rowan keeps a good grip on my arm as we walk along the roof right outside of my hospital room to a ladder leading down to the next story. “Suicide watch. Lasts about three days.”
“Oh,” I say, nearly tripping over a bottle someone tossed onto the roof.
Once we’re down the ladder, Rowan stealthily leads us to an old, black Camaro. It’s beaten to shit – seemingly on its last leg.
“She looks rough, but she runs.” He says, helping me get situated in the passenger side. My movements are slow due to my weakened state. I ripped the IV from my hand without second thought, watching the tube slide from my skin with zero emotion. Pain is pain, inside and out, and I’m afraid that I can’t feel it anymore.
This ordeal is strange. I have so many questions, but it almost seems like they’re stuck in my conscience, and it’s not out of fear, like it was with mom. They just aren’t available for me to verbalize, as if they aren’t yet meant to be asked.
Why didn’t I die? I timed everything perfectly.
Why was Rowan in my room? Sure, he saw me, yadda yadda – but, why? We’re practically complete strangers.
Why wasn’t anyone in the room with me, other than Rowan and the nurse who checked my vitals? If I’m on suicide watch, I’m supposed to be being watched by a member of staff.
Most importantly… Where is Liam?
“This is crazy, isn’t it?” Rowan says, turning down the stereo that blasts classic rock.
He pulls me from my trance. I was watching the trees pass, admiring their colorful leaves as fall graces Pennsylvania with her presence. Soon, the leaves will break away and die when the frost takes over – leaving the branches naked before they’re weighed down by snow. “Little bit.”
He smiles, displaying a slight dimple in his cheek. “What made you change your mind?”
“Let’s see… free trip, cemeteries, free food – I hope… oh, and if you kill me, it’s not like it wasn’t the end goal, anyway. I have nothing to lose, so why not.”
Laughing, he grips the wheel a bit tighter as we drive off into the setting sun. “Why?”
“Why what?”
His eyes flit to mine before he’s focusing on the road once more. “Why’d you want to die?”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I shake my head. “Because people suck. My cat’s dead. The man I thought loved me doesn’t love me at all.”
“Ah,” He says, not missing a beat. “Sounds like a country song.”
I glare at him. “I’m glad you find it funny – relating my life to a stupid country song.”
He snickers, evidently amused by my temper.
I look out the window when m
y lips begin to involuntarily curl upwards. I don’t want him to see me crack a smile. It will destroy my ability to keep him out – away from everything that rots me on the inside. I don’t need a friend. I don’t need anyone, not even myself – which is why I tried to end it all in the first place.
Chapter 11
So many times in life, I’ve wondered what it would be like if something were to throw a wrench in the gears of my mundane existence. Like if a giant hand were to reach out from the ground to grab me and take me to another life… another world. Then again, what would it be like to move on from everything that I’ve ever known? I’d always thought that life was sort of like a perquisite - a necessity to step out onto the other side where things were brighter. An afterlife, or maybe another chance on this familiar planet.
The to-go coffee cup warms my hands as I watch the white lines on the gravel ahead of us. It’s all that I can see since the sun went down. The starry sky is draped above our reverie, its expanse inspiring as the moon hangs in the middle - full and bloodthirsty.
My eyes flit from one star to the next as I connect the dots - finding faces in the sky above me. I see Liam and mom. Virgie and Royce. Rowan and me. I wonder if their mouths and eyes will start moving as they stare down at me from infinity. The brightest star shines in the middle of all the faces, and I know there isn’t a reason questioning Nathan’s presence. He was my north star, navigating me away from everything that threatened to eat me alive.
The ride is quiet, but it’s how it is meant to be. There’s something therapeutic about the open road – the hum of tires against gravel as you chase the infinite white lines. The sky above, open and giving, and the space surrounding you dark and unknowing. The road takes you far away from your problems and reminds you that there is a certain type of beauty to being cramped up for hours on end in a heap of metal traveling at 75 miles per hour. The road repays you with a different backdrop each day, and is a humbling reminder that the little things in life not only bring you happiness, but enlightenment, as well. Because we don’t need really need things, at all.
The Horror of our Love: A Twisted Tales Anthology Page 31
