Pain

by Amanda Mackey

  The one person in my life that I thought I might be able to trust, and she’d blown it. I truly did have no one. An outsider. Made that way by other people. Why had I even been born? There was no purpose. I was just existing. Nothing more. Like each breath, my life was on autopilot. Against my control. The only thing I could control was the pain.

  Stuffing my diary in my bag and throwing it onto the top shelf of the closet, I made my way to the kitchen, knowing what I needed to do. I would be a burden no more. People could forget I ever existed and move on with their lives and I’d finally be free.

  Freedom was all I’d ever wanted—and someone to love me. Just one person. I didn’t ask for much. I wasn’t greedy. Two things, that’s all. Not much in the whole scheme of things.

  There was movement in the kitchen, but it failed to deter me from something that finally seemed so clear. It never had before, but now it did.

  “Hey,” Lil whispered.

  It didn’t register. Didn’t matter. Just noise. I was focused on only one thing. To end the fucking torture inside. I couldn’t take it anymore. I’d lived with it too long. The shame and embarrassment of Lil reading my diary had pushed me into the chasm I’d been teetering on for so long, and now I was freefalling.

  Pulling open the utensil drawer, I fished around for the sharp-edged knife. Clean and deep, that would do it.

  “What are you doing?” came the voice that now sounded so far away.

  I shut the drawer and turned. A hand came to grasp my bicep. “Justice? What are you doing? Answer me!” She was frightened. Panicked.

  Welcome to my world.

  I wrenched my arm away to continue on my journey to freedom. Down the hallway with Lil at my heels, screaming now. Pulling on my shirt. “Oh God! No! Please don’t! I’m so sorry! Justice?”

  Too late for sorry. Just words. I could almost see the light at the end of the tunnel. Peace. She was fighting me all the way, but she’d never win. Clarity had washed over me like soothing warm water.

  Prying her fingers off me, I forced her back. “Leave me the fuck alone!” I roared, hoping to scare her away. For a second, it worked, giving me the window I needed to get into the bathroom and lock the door. Once inside, I could breathe again as if even shutting the door on life was a relief.

  Hard knocking ensued, followed by, “Open the damn door!” The tables had turned. Not too long ago, I’d been pounding on that very door, screaming for her to open it.

  I was free now. Disconnected. No one could save me. I’d told her that.

  I let the sound of her running down the hallway dwindle out of my consciousness as I turned up my sleeve. One of the last things I would ever do. There was no one to mourn. No letter I needed to write, apologizing for my cowardly way out. It was easier this way. No loose ends.

  I didn’t pause to think about it—I merely watched numbly as the sharp knife pierced the puckered skin from previous cuts, blood surfacing quickly as I dug deep into the vein. It pulsed up and out in waves in perfect synchronicity to my still beating heart like an impeccably timed drum.

  When I was satisfied that I’d punctured the main vein, I dropped the knife. It clattered to the tiled floor, the sound slightly drowned out by the pulsating throb in my ears.

  Dropping to the floor, I sat with my back against the tub, waiting for salvation.

  Chapter

  Twenty-Nine

  Lil

  It was happening all over again. Images of my mother swallowing the pills before I could save her flashed like a beacon across my mind. Watching Justice walk so calmly with a knife and then lock himself in the bathroom had me frantic.

  I was grabbing my cell, keying in Nate’s number. Pick up! Pick up!

  Ring. Ring. Ring.

  “Lil?” Finally, he’d answered.

  “Nate, get down to the house now. You and Dad. Justice is cutting himself. He’s locked himself in the bathroom. I can’t get in. Hurry! Before it’s too late!”

  “Fuck! Okay. On our way. Call 911.”

  Feeling utterly helpless, I called in the emergency and ran to the bathroom door to try and talk Justice out of whatever he was going to do.

  “Please, Justice. Don’t do anything silly. You can’t. Everyone here cares about you. Dad. Nate. Daniel and Macy. Me.”

  Silence.

  “Just open the door, and give me the knife. We can get you help. I promise. Please!” I was begging. Adrenalin was running a river through my veins. It couldn’t happen again. It just couldn’t. I’d never forgive myself.

  “Don’t do this! What happened to the guy with attitude that arrived on our doorstep? Where has he gone? The fighter! Cutting isn’t the answer. Come out, and we can go visit the elephants. We can go for a drive. Anything you want.”

  The eerie quiet was painful. I’d rather hear something. What had he done? Was it too late? Had I failed again?

  Hearing Dad’s SUV roar to a skidding stop outside, I was on the move again. Doors slammed. Feet raced. Chaos ensued.

  “Jesus, Lil! What happened? He was fine earlier,” Dad asked.

  I daren’t tell him that my stupidity may have led to the chain of events we now had to deal with.

  “He’s in the bathroom with a knife. You’re going to need to break the door down. I’ve called 911. They’re on their way.”

  Nate opened a drawer and took out a small paring knife, storming down to the bathroom. We all followed, hoping he knew what he was doing.

  With criminal efficiency, he stuck the pointy end of the knife into the door lock, twisted and jimmied a couple of times, and then the door was swinging open wide.

  What I witnessed on the floor of our bathroom was the stuff nightmares were made of. Blood was everywhere. Justice was statue still, eyes closed, sagging against the bathtub. This wasn’t merely cutting but attempted suicide. I practically choked on my own breath.

  Goddammit! Please don’t let us be too late!

  Dad and Nate crouched over Justice, slapping him on the cheeks trying to wake him. My eyes were wide with disbelief. It was an image I would always remember.

  “Lie him down,” cried Dad.

  Placing him on his back on the floor, Dad pulled off his jacket, then shirt, and began twisting it around Justice’s wrist to try and stop the blood, even though most of it looked like it was on the floor.

  With that, he felt for a pulse and began resuscitation, while I gaped like an idiot, frozen in place.

  “Pulse is extremely weak but it’s there. Only just, though. It could go either way.”

  Nate stood. “I’ll go wait for the ambulance. Lil? You want to come with me?”

  When I didn’t respond, he took me by the elbow and led me out the front. The world around me had fallen away. Crumbled. If Justice died, it would be all my fault. I had caused him to do this. How could I have been so insanely stupid? Instead of trying to help, I had made things dreadfully worse.

  And what the hell did I do with the information I had garnered from the diary? Carry it around with me forever?

  Nate put an arm around my shoulder, observing my distress.

  “Lil? You still with me?”

  Shaking my head, I couldn’t begin to hide my shock and anxiety. “No. I…”

  “Shh. It’s okay. Ambulance is on its way. He’s a tough kid, and Tom will do all he can.”

  I needed to come clean and tell Nate what I had discovered. I’d been going to call him and divulge the information earlier, but Justice had changed the course of events by harming himself.

  “It’s my fault.” My hands were trembling by my side.

  “Don’t say that! None of this is your fault.”

  “You don’t understand. Everything was fine this morning. Justice went to work on the stables. He seemed happy. I…I did something.”

  Stepping in front of me and pulling my head up, he softly asked, “It’s okay, Lil. You can tell me. What did you do?”

  “I was looking for information. Anything at all that might let us know
more about his past. Honestly, all I wanted to do was help. I found his diary.”

  “He keeps a diary?” Nate looked perplexed.

  “I found it in his bag. It’s his only belonging.”

  “Soooo,” he dragged the word out as he deduced what was coming, “you read it?”

  My shaking fingers lifted to brush some stray tears away that had begun to fall again. “Not much of it. Only a couple of entries. God, Nate! It was awful. What that poor kid went through is just appalling. I’m convinced he was in the care of the evil bastard that was on the news.”

  Justice pulled me in to his chest and rubbed his hand up and down my back. “Fuck. No wonder he’s resorted to slashing his wrists.”

  “He knows I read it. That’s what set him off.”

  “Shit!”

  “Yeah, shit! He wouldn’t have done it if he hadn’t discovered I’d read his private thoughts. You should have seen him. I’ve never witnessed such anger before.”

  “Kid was probably mortified. It’s not something you talk about. He obviously wrote it on paper in an attempt to purge it from his system.”

  I was sobbing by this stage. “I betrayed his trust beyond repair. He’ll never forgive me. If he even survives.”

  “Hush. Stop beating yourself up over it. You were trying to help. Your intention was good. Maybe it was a blessing in disguise and it has all come to a head. The guy might be able to get the help he needs now.”

  I hoped that were true. I hoped someone took the time to put him back together.

  A siren blared in the distance.

  “Ambulance is here. I’ll just go see how Tom is doing and be right out. You going to be okay?”

  I gave a small nod. I wasn’t really, but Justice was the priority, not me. I would live. How did the ambulance even get in? Nate must have left the gate unlocked.

  I didn’t know how to calm my nerves or stop my hands from quaking. I kept picturing all the blood on the bathroom tiles. Justice’s lifeless form, slumped over. He appeared different. Fragile. Younger. Not the big, tough criminal but someone with emotions and issues just like the rest of us. Vulnerable.

  The ambulance left a cloud of dust in its wake as it hurried up the long driveway to the front of the house. Nate hadn’t reappeared, so I let the medics come to me. A woman and a man exited out the back with a gurney.

  “He’s inside in the bathroom. First room down the hallway on the left.”

  “Thank you,” the fair-headed female medic replied with a smile.

  I wasn’t going to go back inside. I couldn’t. The fresh air outside was all that was helping me keep it together.

  Unlike when my mother had passed and I’d found her, she had merely looked like she was asleep. There had been no marks on her body whatsoever. With Justice, there had been so much damn blood and a gaping hole in his wrist. I don’t think I’d ever be able to erase that image from my mind.

  It took another ten minutes before the gurney appeared with Justice on it, a mask covering his face and a blanket over his body. I looked to my dad, whose face was drawn and grim.

  He met my gaze and walked over to me.

  “What happened?” I asked.

  “His heart stopped after the medics got here. They had to revive him using the defibrillator. He’s lost a lot of blood, Lil. It’s not looking good.”

  Grief stabbed into my heart, causing me to wail loudly, not caring who heard.

  “No! He can’t die. He can’t!” Fists were squeezing my chest, restricting the air flow. All Dad could do was hold me while Justice was loaded into the ambulance.

  “Come on. We’ll follow. Do you need to get anything before we leave?”

  “I can’t go back inside.”

  With understanding in his eyes, Dad said, “I’ll just lock up. Go get in my SUV.”

  ***

  Sierra Nevada Memorial Hospital was a hive of activity. Dad parked while the ambulance drove around the back to the ER.

  Nate had come along for support too, so the three of us sat in the waiting room, praying that there would be a good outcome. We hadn’t mentioned the diary to my father, and I wasn’t sure if we were going to until we figured everything out. If Justice was given some counseling, courtesy of the hospital, then we didn’t see the need to. The professionals would take care of everything. All we needed to do was be there for him and let him know that we supported him and cared.

  “Coffee?” Nate asked, standing.

  “Yes, please,” Dad and I both answered in unison. I needed something to help pick me back up. I was emotionally drained and hadn’t eaten anything since early afternoon. It was nearing seven p.m. I doubted I’d be able to keep food down, though, so a hit of caffeine was the next best thing.

  We were all fading with the stress of the afternoon’s events. Dad hadn’t spoken much, but then, neither had I. What could be said? I think shock had stolen our voices. Guilt had definitely turned my stomach, not to mention the rusty smell of blood and the fact that Justice had been in such a dark place that my stupidity had pushed him to the point of no return.

  “Lil, honey?”

  Raising my weary eyes to Dad’s, I swallowed hard, hoping I didn’t burst into tears again. “Yeah?”

  “How’re you doing? Now that we’re alone, tell me honestly.” His hand came out to take mine, clasping firmly in a show of unity.

  How was I doing? I didn’t think I could define it. Part of me felt like a zombie, and the other part was wired with so many emotions my insides felt like they were on spin cycle in a washing machine. “I’m hurting for him. Really hurting. After Mom…well, you know that story. I thought I’d never have to live through anything like it again. Suicide, I mean. I still can’t get my head around how anyone would want to end their life. To think it is one thing but to actually do it is another.”

  Dad sucked a long breath in and then let it out in a rush. “Honey, we need to remember that we can’t save everyone. Some don’t want to be saved. We can try. We can try our asses off, but at the end of the day, people make their own choices.”

  “I know, but Justice doesn’t deserve to be so sad that he sees no other way out.” Whispering, I added, “I don’t want him to die.”

  Kissing the top of my head, Dad said, “Neither do I, Lil. I thought we’d made a little progress with him. The way he dove in to rescue you even though I could tell he didn’t want to search in the dark. The kid has an issue with being in the dark. But when we found you, he didn’t hesitate. That’s gutsy.”

  Dad was right. Buried deep within him was a good person. It had just been covered up with so much pain and hatred that he’d lost that part of himself.

  “So what do you think will happen? I mean if he is okay. Will he be allowed to come home with us?”

  Dad’s bleary eyes searched mine, probably trying to find answers that he didn’t have. “I’m not sure. I’ll fight for him if that’s what it takes, but I’m not God. I guess the powers that be will decide.”

  Hearing that, I knew my father was as personally invested in Justice as I was. We could only do so much against “the system.” Knowing that he tried to end his life while in our care would not bode well for his case. All we could do was hope like hell he survived so he could put forward his own argument. I prayed that he would want to return home with us and not go back to living on the streets.

  Nate returned with our coffees, and I hugged mine as if it were a lifeline.

  “Any news?” he asked.

  “No,” Dad answered. “We’ll wait to hear from a doctor and take it from there. If he’s stable, we might as well head home. There’s not much we can do here.”

  Nate sat beside me and squeezed my knee. “How are you holding up, Lil?”

  “Exhausted but hanging in there. I just want to hear that he’ll be okay.”

  “You care about him, don’t you?”

  Raising my head, I tried to read the look in Nate’s eyes. Jealousy? Resignation? I wasn’t sure, and was too tired to figu
re it out. “Yeah. I guess I do,” was all I could muster up, taking a long sip of my coffee.

  He didn’t reply. The three of us sat in silence, waiting for some good news.

  It took another hour before a doctor appeared. Dad and Nate had dozed off on the hard chairs, but as tired as I was, I hadn’t been able to. My wandering mind prevented any form of sleep.

  The grey-haired man walked over to us, and I elbowed Dad in the ribs to wake him up.

  “Mr. Harris?” The doctor stood in front of us. Dad gathered his wits about him and sat up straight.

  “Yes?”

  “I’m Dr. Peters. You’re Justice Armstrong’s primary guardian at the moment?”

  “Correct. How is he?”

  “He’s stable at the moment. It’s been touch and go. He lost a lot of blood, but we’ve done a transfusion, and he seems to be receiving the new blood well.” The audible sighs from the three of us were loud and clear. He was out of the woods for now. I was so relieved.

  “We’re keeping him in here for a few days, though. Because of his situation, we’ve put him on some anti-depressant medication and would like him to start seeing a therapist. When he wakes up, he may be disoriented and confused, so we’ll monitor him closely. Any questions?”

  “Can we see him before we go?” Dad asked.

  The doctor smiled for the first time. “Only for a short while and one at a time. He’s still unconscious, so don’t be expecting much tonight.”

  We rose and followed Dr. Peters down the corridor to Justice’s room. Thankfully, he had it all to himself and wasn’t sharing. Perhaps they’d made it that way on purpose.

  “You want to go in first, honey?” Dad asked as we stopped in front of a door, numbered 197.

  Nodding, I pushed my way through as Dad thanked the doctor and let him go on his way.

  The room was dark except for a small light above Justice’s bed.

  My heart sped up at the site of him with a nasal tube and drip inserted. But more than that, it was how helpless he appeared. Pulling a chair up beside the bed, I sat and studied him.