Revive Me

by Ferrell, Charity

  In Loving Memory of Tanner Benson

  God called him home to Heaven.

  1996-2013

  I pushed the long sleeves of my shirt up my arms as sweat began to build around my hairline. “Today was hell without you,” I said, warm tears pricking at my eyelids. “Daisy was a no-show.” I snorted. “But that doesn’t really surprise me anymore.” I traced a finger against his name, back and forth against the rough, gravely stone, until I was sure I had every curve, slant, and space embedded into my brain. “Why did you leave me all alone?” I cried out into the emptiness of the cemetery around me. I was surrounded by the whispers of the trees, the still of the evening, and the hundreds of dead bodies buried around me. And it was the most serene place I’d been in months.

  “You should’ve stopped him,” I cried out, bending forward and smacking my palm against the hard stone. The tears fell faster, his name growing blurry through my vision, and I smacked it harder. It had been three months, three long, excruciating months, since he’d been murdered. I fell back down, hitting the ground, wrapped my hands around my head, and shut my eyes.

  My body jerked in my chair at the sound of the first gunshot. I suddenly became alert, like everyone else in the classroom, and flinched as another shot reverberated. I shifted in my chair, turning around, and looked at the wall behind me. I was positive they were coming from the room next door.

  “What the hell was that?” Dawson asked, getting up from his chair. Everyone’s attention moved away from the wall to him, like he had all the answers. The stutter of the gunshots seared through me. Something wasn’t right. We lived in a small town full of hunters. Guns were normal, but they were usually heard from the woods, not classrooms.

  Mr. Higgins’s shoes squeaked as he stormed to the front of the room. “This is code red!” He said urgently. I watched everyone jump up from the chairs and perform the actions of the drill we’d been practicing for years, in case anything like this ever happened. I remembered how we’d goofed around during the procedure like it was a joke. Something like this would never happen around there. We were so wrong.

  He went directly to the door, twisted the lock with trembling fingers, and the room went dim with the flip of the light switch. He stumbled into empty desks as he made his way to the other side of the room to draw the blinds.

  I froze, my butt planted in my chair, when another round of shots fired and screams erupted. How many shots were fired? I tried to keep up, counting the number of shots and the different tones of the screams, but there were too many.

  “Remember the drill,” Mr. Higgins directed. Everyone ducked under their desks.

  “What’s happening?” A girl asked, tears streaming down her face.

  “I’m not sure,” he answered. “We need to make this room seem empty. If there’s a dangerous person out there, and they attempt to come in, do not scream.”

  The loud blast of alarms throttled through the room. I finally got up from my chair and dipped down under my desk as my hands went to my ears. That’s when it hit me. That’s when my heart was ready to pound out of my chest, and I went into full, panic mode.

  “Dawson,” I whispered urgently, waving him over.

  He scurried towards me, got down on his knees, and looked at me. Grabbing my hand, he interlocked our fingers and pressed his lips against my forehead.

  “Everything’s going to be okay, babe,” he said, stroking my hair.

  I shook my head, swallowing a few times as I tried to force the words from my mouth, but they were giving me a hard time. If I said them out loud, they would be true. They’d be real. It reminded me of the nightmares I’d had as a child, where my mouth would open wide to scream for my parents, but I suddenly had no voice. I’d struggle, cry, and push, but my throat was incapable of sound. I was in a living nightmare.

  “Tanner’s in that room,” I finally managed to get out.

  His hand tightened in mine as his body completely locked up. He stayed silent, and his eyelids squeezed shut. I quickly pulled my hand out of his, crawled out from under my desk and darted across the room, praying I’d make it to the door before he got to me. I screeched as my body was gridlocked, a pair of hands attached to my waist, and I was pulled away from my destination.

  “Tessa, stop!” he hissed into my ear. His hold tightened on me as I fought against him. I’d tear down every desk and chair in my way. I had to save him, or I’d never forgive myself.

  “He’s in there!” I shouted, my arm flying towards the door. My voice pierced through the room as I shouted against the alarms. I didn’t care if anyone heard me. I glanced around the room, noticing the looks of shock and dread on people’s faces. Why weren’t they doing anything? Why weren’t they trying to save him?

  I pushed against Dawson with all my strength. “If you’re not going to do anything, I will.”

  “Tessa, get down and lower your voice,” Mr. Higgins demanded, stalking our way.

  I clutched my hands to my chest. “You don’t have to do anything,” I desperately begged, “just let me go in there and help. You can lock the door behind me and none of you will be in harm’s way.” I had no idea what I was going to do when I got out of there, but I’d figure it out. No one moved, and Dawson’s hold didn’t loosen. “Please!” I screamed, kicking my feet against his legs as his hand shot up and covered my mouth.

  “Tessa,” he whispered. “Stop it.”

  “I’ll stop it when you let me go!” I gave him another kick.

  “Please shut up,” a girl whispered from the floor. She was rolled into a ball, her hands over her ears, and a strand of black mascara streamed down her swollen face.

  “I’ll be quiet when my brother’s life isn’t in danger. Now let me out!” I was being selfish, but I didn’t care. Saving him was all that mattered in that moment.

  I screeched when my body was lifted and dragged to the back of the room. I kept fighting him, my shoes dragging against the floor, as I whipped back and forth in his arms. I was pushed against a wall in the corner of the room and his hands went to my shoulders to push me down until I hit the floor. I glanced up to see him standing in front of me. His nostrils flared and the veins in his neck engorged. He crossed his arms and his heavy frame formed a barrier between the door and me.

  “Please let me go,” I pleaded, crying.

  “No.”

  “Please.”

  He bent down on his heels, and an arm went to each side of my head. “Baby, there’s nothing we can do. Help is on the way.” I suddenly realized sirens were ringing out around us. “But you can’t leave this room.” I attempted to do a lame crawl underneath his arms, but he slammed his hand into the wall to stop me. “Quit, just fucking quit it.” His palm pounded against the wall again. “Tanner is a fighter. He’ll be fine. But if I let anything happen to you, if he knows I allowed you to put yourself in danger, he’ll kick my ass and never forgive me. I couldn’t forgive myself, either. I told him I’d always protect you if he wasn’t around, and that’s what I’m doing. Now get the hell over it and stop fucking fighting me!”

  Tears poured down my face as my body shook. Dawson’s arm went around my back, and my face hit the soft cotton of his t-shirt. “You’re right,” I sobbed. Tanner was a fighter. He’d get through this. I knew it.

  I brushed the tears rolling down my cheeks and stared at the sunset before leaving him. He was gone, and we were all left broken without him. Losing him was the worst pain I’d ever been through. He was my other half. We’d been best friends before we were born. He was my confidante, my protector, my best friend, and my twin brother.

  I pulled myself up, passing the aisles of graves to head back to my car, when I noticed it. I visited him every day, but I’d never paid attention to the other headstones. I stopped when I caught a flash of his name, and my eyes narrowed as I looked at it.

  Rodney Avila.

  “I hope you burn in hell,” I seethed. I picked up a rock from the ground and tossed it at his name. “You stupid basta
rd!” I shrieked, tossing another, this one with more force. “I hate you! You killed all of them! You got what you deserved!” The tears streamed faster down my face, and I didn’t even attempt to get rid of them this time.

  I threw one more stone, flipped off the tombstone, and walked away. I’d never take that way through the cemetery again. Seeing his name felt like poison being dripped into my eyes. All of this was his fault. He’d brought the gun to school. He’d hunted down his ex-girlfriend because she couldn’t deal with his psychopathic tantrums and abuse anymore. She was moving on and it wasn’t with him. He grabbed his dad’s gun before going to school, headed into her first period class, and killed everyone in the room. Then he pulled the trigger on himself.

  I gripped my steering wheel tightly. Why did he have to kill everyone? If he was so unhappy, why couldn’t he just do it to himself? I was being selfish … I knew that. In the past I would’ve never wished suicide on anyone, but this someone took my brother from me. He’d taken my family away from me. And I’d never forgive him, dead or alive.

  I walked through the front door to find my younger brother, Derrick, on the couch with a video game controller in his hand. His fingers tapped the buttons quickly as he shouted at the TV.

  “Are Mom and Dad here?” I asked, interrupting his game and standing in front of the TV.

  He paused the game, and his eyebrows squished together. “You seriously asking me that?” He tossed the controller onto the coffee table and shook his head. “Even when they’re here, they aren’t.” My brother was strikingly similar to Tanner. His thick, blonde hair was cut short, and he was growing taller, and more muscular, with each passing day.

  “They’ll get better, just give it time,” I said, wishing I believed my own words. After Tanner’s funeral, they’d tuned out and forgot they had two living children to take care of. I was old enough to deal with the neglect. But Derrick was too young. So I took on the role of taking care of him.

  He rolled his eyes. “Yeah right. You’ve been saying that for months. They don’t even come home after work until midnight.”

  “Come on,” I called, heading into the kitchen. “I’ll make you something to eat. I’m sure you’re starving.”

  “I’m always starving,” he said, laughing lightly. “But I’ve already eaten.” I twisted around to look at him. Derrick was fourteen, but the boy couldn’t cook. He’d starve himself before figuring out how to make a grilled cheese sandwich. “Dawson fed me,” he added. “He stopped by looking for you. We waited for a while, played a few levels, but you never showed. So he took me out for ice cream before going to work.”

  Shit, I’d turned off my phone and forgot about calling him. At least I’d gotten out of having the dreaded conversation with him.

  “Ice cream isn’t dinner.” I walked into the kitchen, turned on the light, and peeked at him from around the corner. “Now get your butt in here so I can feed you some real sustenance.” He groaned, but did as he was told. I threw some easy-mac in the microwave and made us sandwiches.

  Derrick devoured his dinner as I picked at mine, listening to him ramble about school and his upcoming field trip to a football game. He might’ve been a teenager, but he was still young, and I didn’t want him corrupted. I shielded him from my parents’ problems the best I could. I’d choose him over my parents if I had to. Brother and sister bonds, even when they’re cutting your favorite doll’s hair off, are strong. Sibling friendships were something that would never deteriorate.

  “I’m going to go watch some TV in my room,” he said, getting up from the table when we’d finished his homework. “Goodnight, sis.”

  I nodded and started to clean up. I heard his bedroom door click shut upstairs at the same time the front one opened. I walked into the entryway to find my mom stumbling in and nearly falling face first against the staircase. I could smell the alcohol lingering on her breath from across the room. Her blue eyes took one look at me and turned cold. Muttering something under her breath, she shook her head and wandered up the stairs to her bedroom. I painfully watched until she disappeared and the door slammed shut. Thirty minutes later, my dad came home and repeated the same motions.

  I sat down and slammed my hands down against the kitchen table. Taking a deep breath, I reached for the pile of mail sitting to the side. A large white envelope stuck out from the stack, and I pulled it out. My stomach fell when I saw the letterhead. I drug the rest of the pile to me, sorting through it, and noticed another matching envelope. I pushed the others away, set the two in front of me, and my eyes fixated on them. They both had the same address, just sent to different names. One had his name and the other mine. Both from my dream college. Tanner hadn’t wanted to go to college on the east coast, but he’d applied for me. He’d follow me anywhere to protect me.

  I grabbed both envelopes, stormed across the room, and threw them into the trashcan. Screw it. I grabbed my bag and stepped out into the sticky night. Maybe Reese was right. Maybe I needed to numb myself.

  I parked my car across the street from a one-story house in need of some serious TLC and double-checked my GPS to make sure I was at the right place. Yep, it matched the address on the napkin. I squinted my eyes, noticing people standing on the front porch, the front lawn, and the small driveway. Bodies trickled in and out of the open doorway to the house. I tucked my wallet underneath my seat, ran my hands down my jeans, and got out of my car. My steps followed the loud music until I walked into a room full of people with cups in their hands, cigarettes between their fingers, and sweat running down their face.

  A few pieces of furniture were pressed against the walls as people were scattered throughout the place. There were no familiar faces and most of them looked too old to be in high school. I kept walking, taking only a few steps, and landed in the kitchen. The cabinets hanging on the walls were either broken or open. Alcohol bottles were strewed along the countertops and floor. A group of people surrounded a circular table in the middle of the room. I stood up on my tiptoes, and my eyes widened as a guy dropped his head down to a rectangular mirror and snorted a line of a white substance. He finished the line, shook his head, and threw his hands up in victory as a few others cheered and clapped his back.

  I walked backward, ready to flee, when a pair of hands stopped me. I stilled as a splash of liquid smacked into my hair and someone pushed me from behind.

  “Damn pretty girl, you actually showed up,” a deep voice growled into my ear. I turned around to find Reese standing in front of me. He grabbed my hand. “We’ve got some good shit here. Can I get you something from the keg?” I stared at him, debating with myself whether to stay or leave. “Or something harder? Vodka? Whiskey? Whatever you want, love, I got you.” His wiry lips gave me a sly smile.

  A red, plastic cup was gripped in his hand, and he took a drink while waiting for me to answer. I gave him a weak smile, noticing the blood-shot veins around his eyes and his enlarged pupils. I glanced around the room, observing everyone’s carefree behavior with envy. That’s how I wanted to be. That’s how I wanted to feel. That’s why I was there.

  My eyes zeroed in on a guy across from us. He sat slack against the wall, his body settled on the floor, as his head bobbed from side to side. A line of drool was dripping from his mouth onto the stained carpet. “I’ll have whatever he’s having,” I said, gesturing to him.

  Cold lips kissed my cheek. “That’s my girl. I’ll hook you up real good, I promise. Be right back.” His girl?

  I nodded, running my teeth against my lower lip, and watched him disappear into the kitchen. I slouched back against a wall and shut my eyes. What was I doing here? Reese wasn’t my type. He was a bad boy and a bad boy had never been in my plans. They weren’t my type. But he was giving me attention, and he wasn’t treating me like I was the sister of the murdered football star. He was going to help me … or at least he said he was.

  My eyes shot open as something hard collided into my side. My head turned to find two people practically dry-humping
each other next to me. Their mouths were connected, their tongues and spit sliding against one another’s as their hands clawed at each other’s skin. I covered my mouth, turning away, and scurried off to find an open chair at the corner of the living room. Where the hell was I?

  “Here ya go,” Reese said, stopping in front of me and handing over a plastic cup that resembled his. “You’re going to love this shit.”

  I glanced into the cup to see an unrecognizable brown liquid. Slowly bringing the rim to my chapped lips, the liquid hit my tongue, causing me to instantly cringe. Gagging, I brought my hand to my chest, forcing myself to swallow down the repugnant concoction of licorice, sugar, and what I’d imagined Drano would taste like if I ever took a go at it.

  “Holy shit!” I gasped, grabbing my throat, coughing, and pulling the cup away from me. I shook my head and stuck my tongue out as it began to feel fuzzy. “Why are you feeding me turpentine?”

  He chuckled, pushing a hand into the pocket of his pants. “It’s a Jagerbomb in a cup, love.” I looked up at him and blinked a few times. Was I supposed to know what that meant? He smiled proudly like he’d invented the drink and was about to receive some cash prize for it. “My specialty and favorite. It’ll take you a few sips to get used to the taste, but after that you’ll be addicted. I promise.”

  I coughed. “I highly doubt that.”

  “Just give it a chance.”

  I held in a breath, exhaling slowly, and forced myself to take another drink. I wasn’t new to drinking, but I’d always stuck to the beginner drinks; wine coolers, rum with fruit juice, or wine on holidays, definitely nothing this potent.

  His hand shot towards me. “Come on,” he said, and I grabbed it, giving him the power to pull me up from my chair. “I’ve got some people for you to meet.”