Margo's Lullaby

by Groves, B.

  Pamela told her this trail was on top of marshes, and Gabby hoped she would see wildlife this morning.

  She looked up to see the dawn turning a pinkish-orange color, and that made her smile.

  Once the wooden boards turned into a dirt path, she no longer had to hold the rails to keep her balance.

  She pressed play on her phone and put her ear buds in. She was now lost in a winter wonderland.

  The music box played inside of Margo’s room, and Gabby could not believe her sister was talking about becoming a dancer because of it.

  Margo, now ten, hummed to the lullaby each night before she went to sleep.

  Margo had always been afraid of the dark but didn’t want to disturb their mother and father anymore saying she was embarrassed to tell them the dark still scared her.

  There were nights she would slip into Gabby’s room for a little while and sleep next to her sister.

  Gabby didn’t mind.

  One night the girls giggled when their mother scolded them for staying up too late. Gabby was entering her teens and was rebelling a little against her parents, so they would stay up to spite their parents, even though Margo usually passed out first.

  John was staying out later with his friends, so he ignored both girls now, and Gabby would send Margo to tease him about having a girlfriend, to which he would threaten either of them if they told mom or dad.

  “What’s a diary?” Margo asked one night when they stayed up late.

  Gabby held up the flashlight in her sister’s face. Margo cringed and swiped the light away.

  “It’s where you write your deepest, darkest thoughts,” Gabby said laughing when she shined the light on Margo again.

  “Mom’s going to see us!”

  Gabby shrugged. “No, she won’t. Anyway, you write your thoughts, and keep it a secret.”

  Margo beamed, then her blue eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

  “I think I might start a diary, and I’ll hide it in the music box. I’ll keep it a secret,” Margo said, proud of herself.

  “Thanks for telling me the secret of hiding it already, dummy,” Gabby said with a roll of her eyes.

  Margo crossed her arms over chest from the insult, and said, “Then you’ll be the only one who knows.”

  Gabby laughed quietly. “What do you need to write about?”

  “I don’t know,” Margo said, her eyebrows wrinkling together. “I’ll think of something. You can draw pretty pictures, so maybe I can write, then I’ll dance like the ballerina.

  Gabby shrugged and turned the page in her mother’s magazine she stole from the bathroom.

  “Sure, go ahead. Just remember to hide it because you don’t want them reading it.”

  Margo smiled. “No one will ever find it.”

  Gabby checked her watch and gazed at the sky. The sun was over the horizon, and she was ready to turn around and start her day.

  Her mind was settled for the moment, and she would seize the opportunity to get work done on her projects.

  She never knew how much she missed this small, sleepy beach town until she pulled into the driveway just a few days ago.

  She turned around and made her way back down the trail. Gabby kept to herself most of the time now. Yes, she had friends, but she was only close to a few people.

  After threats, trolls, and people with darker agendas against her, Gabby had become wary of people in general. It was at least once a week she would open her emails, and some troll would threaten her and her family. She learned to hit the delete button and no longer cry over the threat.

  One thing she refused to do was change who she was. She stayed Gabrielle Ryan, even after her failed marriage.

  Yes, John married young, and so far his marriage was going great. He and his wife Leann were married for eight years and were talking about a baby. They expressed wanting to come back to the states. Gabby thought she could do the same, and thought starting fresh would help her, but it didn’t go so well.

  When she met Daniel in college, she thought she met the love of her life.

  He was sweet, kind, and Gabby was comfortable telling him up front about her life.

  Daniel thought he could handle it. He thought they could make a life together, and Gabby could leave it all behind like John did.

  But, somehow, things fell apart soon after they married when Gabby was twenty-two.

  Daniel became distant and came home late after insisting he was just working. He was in marketing and said to make money he needed to work long hours to support them since Gabby’s income was low from just being a junior designer.

  After only a year of marriage, Gabby found out he was cheating.

  He admitted that being the sister of a school shooter was too much on him, and he didn’t need that kind of pressure in his life. His reputation far outweighed whatever they had, and he couldn’t live with the stigma of what Margo had done.

  He walked away leaving Gabby alone once again in this world. It was a quick and easy divorce, and though her parents supported her throughout the whole thing, she knew they were disappointed that Gabby couldn’t save her marriage.

  Her mind swirled back to Dean Walker. She remembered that day so vividly that she could tell anyone what she had for breakfast all the way up to when she looked into Margo’s sad eyes.

  She and Dean had been shy towards each other for years. Yes, there’d been Scott, and if she remembered correctly Dean had been dating a few girls around the school, but they always seemed to bump into each other in the halls or other places.

  She smiled as she remembered how Dean and her first met. They were assigned to sit next to each other in science class in the seventh grade, and she thought Dean didn’t like her.

  He ignored her most of the year in that class and barely said two words towards her when they had a project together. She would sit there and wonder why the boy hated her, but then she realized it wasn’t hate, he was just shy around her.

  She didn’t see Dean in a different light until their senior year, and even though Gabby dated, she was still shy about approaching guys herself.

  Dean had grown into a handsome man, and she would turn bright red around him.

  Then the glances began. Her heart pounded that day already in the library as he sat diagonal to her.

  She’d been in the library for a reason, and that was to confront Margo about staying out all night again when their mother and father were worried sick.

  But, she was distracted when Dean showed up. She remembered him wearing a T-shirt with the school’s logo and jeans that hugged his tight hips.

  She lost count of how many times she looked up to see if he turned around to look at her.

  She remembered his smile when she moved her books. She stifled a laugh when she realized Jake was coaxing him to talk to her.

  They had been so close. So close to having a conversation with him, and Gabby needed it. Margo had shown up, and if there was ever the biggest regret that Gabby had it was the way she spoke to Margo that day.

  If only she said something different. If only she reacted differently.

  Maybe, just maybe…

  The huge “if” hung over her like constant storm clouds hanging over the sky.

  Gabby squeezed her eyes shut for a moment and held back the dark thoughts clouding her mind.

  She opened them when she slipped a little on the trail and stopped to lean against the wooden fence.

  Gabby hoped it wouldn’t happen today, but the thoughts flooded her mind.

  She leaned over and inhaled deep cold breaths to calm her while rubbing her hands against her pant legs to stop the shaking.

  She stood up straight, and her gaze cleared. The trees above her coming back into focus.

  Her heartbeat slowed, and the shaking passed. She no longer curled into fetal positions, but it didn’t mean the panic attacks weren’t just as painful.

  She turned when she heard a branch break nearby and spotted someone walking towards her.

&
nbsp; Gabby reached for the pepper spray in her pocket and held it in between her gloved fingers, but figured it was just another jogger.

  She turned to look again and almost gasped.

  Dean Walker was coming towards her.

  She froze in place. How the hell did this happen? What was he doing here? How did he know she was here? Did he live around here?

  A million questions raced through her mind as he approached. He wasn’t dressed for a workout. In fact, he looked dressed and ready to go to work.

  What did he want?

  Gabby turned and took on a defensive stance. The way he treated her yesterday would not happen again. He wasn’t conscious that day, and Pamela told her he asked her several times what happened, but Pamela refused to explain saying he needed to read the police report, but Pamela never found out why Dean didn’t know what was in it.

  Gabby knew the rumors. She knew people said she ran right out of the library that day and never looked back. They wanted to say those horrible things because they needed someone… someone to blame for what her sister did, and since Gabby was there, she was the easiest the target.

  It was all complete horseshit, even the final report.

  Dean stopped in front of her. His square jaw set like a statue so he could hide his emotions.

  He was dressed in a brown winter coat, with a tie showing underneath the opening. His pants were the usual business attire of a teacher, and he wore boots to walk through the mud instead of business shoes.

  She could see a bag thrown over his shoulder.

  Pamela told her he was the ninth grade history teacher in the school now.

  Gabby noticed he hadn’t shaved around his chin this morning with the shadow on his face.

  He looked like he didn’t get much sleep because his hazel eyes had little bags underneath and were shuttered as he set his gaze on her.

  Gabby didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t find the words. How after all these years and their history could she speak to him?

  Could she say she saved his life while her sister died in front of her? Could she say she was sorry that her sister shot him? What could she say?

  “Good morning, Dean,” Gabby said, thinking after all these years they were exchanging actual words.

  “Good morning, Gabby,” he answered. The weariness in his voice coming out as he spoke.

  Gabby tried to take a deep breath. Her hands balled into fists. No matter how she could have felt about Dean, she was still upset about he treated her yesterday, and she wouldn’t take it today.

  “I didn’t know you lived around here,” Gabby said.

  The tension was almost as heavy as the mist that was forming in the air from the sun hitting moisture surrounding them.

  Gabby was still recovering from her panic attack, and she shivered more from that than the cold.

  “I didn’t know you were my neighbor until I came home from school yesterday, and saw your car at Pamela’s old place,” Dean answered.

  Gabby’s eyebrows rose. Pamela hadn’t told her that Dean lived near her. She frowned knowing how Pamela was and it was on purpose.

  Pamela was always positive and was trying to play cupid despite all the tragedy. Gabby would make sure she would talk to Pamela about it at lunch this coming weekend.

  “Pam’s family was nice enough to rent me their place,” Gabby said.

  Dean didn’t move, nor did his emotions change, the only hint was the flexing of his jaw.

  “I thought you didn’t want to talk to me,” Gabby said after a moment of silence between them. “Even if we’re neighbors.”

  Dean’s intake of a sharp breath told Gabby everything she needed to know. He was fighting an inner battle regarding her, and no matter how much she tried to deny it; she was doing the same thing.

  Dean looked around and a smile touched his lips but never reached his eyes.

  “I don’t know. I don’t know what I want from you. I was surprised to see you yesterday, and now I’m curious about why you moved back into town.”

  “I don’t have to explain my reasoning. This is my hometown too.”

  She really didn’t. She didn’t need to explain to anyone what she was doing there. Besides, the fewer people knew her plans the better.

  “I understand that, but it seems funny the ten year anniversary is coming up—“

  “So? It doesn’t matter what anniversary it is. Nothing will ever change what my sister did, and I have the right to live where I wish.”

  Dean took a few steps and looked down on the ground kicking around an imaginary rock.

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be here now. Emotions are running high again.”

  “So, are you going to organize a lynch mob and chase me out of town?” Gabby asked in a challenge.

  Dean scoffed. His face reflected his growing emotions, and Gabby could point out the anger building.

  “No. How did this get turned around on me? I was a victim. I was shot that day, and I have every right to question why you’re here. Don’t I?”

  Gabby closed her eyes and tried to calm her own emotions. She had feeling this wouldn’t go well.

  “You do, but I don’t have to answer you either.”

  “What are you doing here?” Dean demanded.

  “I don’t have to answer that question.”

  “You should.”

  “Why?”

  This conversation was disintegrating like a match coming down the tip of Gabby’s fingers.

  “Because don’t you think the victims and their families need an explanation on why your sister committed mass murder in a school?” Dean asked.

  Anymore, Gabby could almost predict what people would say to her, and Dean was no exception. The usual of what was going through Margo’s head at the time. Why didn’t her parents step in when Margo was having problems, and why they couldn’t stop their daughter from killing five people and injuring ten more?

  Where did she get the guns? Why was she allowed access to them?

  The same questions asked over and over again, like an old broken down record player.

  Who was to blame? Margo? Gabby’s parents? Who?

  The fact was her parents did all that and more for Margo. They did, and nothing stopped Margo that day.

  “We’ve paid our debts to the families. We’ve been through all of this before. So, you’re asking me for answers? It’s all been laid out after all these years. I don’t know what you want from me Dean.”

  Dean turned angry, and he hoisted the bag further back on his shoulder. His hazel eyes smoldered, and his angry gaze set right upon Gabby.

  “I want to know what the hell possessed you to come back here and stir up things that should be buried by now. People are still trying to move on here, and you come back. I don’t know how stupid you could be, Gabby.”

  Gabby balled her fists at her sides. She almost thought about using her pepper spray on Dean.

  Almost.

  The emotions she tried so hard to control came bursting through her mouth.

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said through gritted teeth.

  Dean laughed sarcastically. “I think I do, because I’m a victim, remember?”

  “Are you accusing me of condoning what my sister did?”

  “Are you? Are you trying to find excuses for her?”

  “No! I know my sister is a killer! I know she is, and what do you want me to say? Am I sorry? Because I am sorry. I am sorry every fucking day, but I deserve to put my sister to rest just as much as the town.”

  Dean walked around in a circle. “Did you just tell me you’re sorry? That’s not enough! It will never be good enough. She killed my best friend and four others. She put a fucking teacher in a wheelchair the rest of his life. You acting sorry will never be good enough.”

  “Then why are you here talking to me?”

  Dean took a step forward. His eyes were now as hard as the ice still gripping the surrounding ground.
r />   “You need to go back to Florida or wherever you came from. That is fair warning, Gabby.”

  Gabby’s eyes narrowed. “Are you threatening me, Dean?”

  Dean took his free hand and ran it through his hair. He sighed in exasperation.

  “No—no. I never meant by me. I’m sorry that came out wrong. I am just telling you for your own safety.”

  It was Gabby’s turn to laugh sarcastically. “I don’t need you to tell me how to live my life.”

  “You’re right. Like when you ran out of the library before everyone else.”

  It was true. Dean never knew the true story of what really happened that morning. He never bothered to look at her statements that morning, and what happened after Margo shot herself. He never researched the truth. He assumed like everyone else that Gabby listened to her sister and ran away before she killed herself.

  It was a lie. A complete lie. One that was a major attack on her family.

  “I didn’t—”

  Gabby stopped herself from answering. There was no hope. There was no explanation. It would always be there. The rumors would always swirl around her that day. Yes, she could have run. She should have run. But, she didn’t, because she was too busy trying to save two lives at once, and no one bothered with the facts or cared enough to even ask her.

  “What?” Dean asked.

  Gabby felt the tears threaten. She looked up to the bright, and sunny winter sky, thinking this was hopeless. She had nothing else to say. Dean would always believe what he wanted to, and she couldn’t stop him.

  Gabby gathered what was left of her dignity, and said, “Believe what you want.”

  “I know what I’ve heard.”

  “Yeah, I know what you’ve heard.”

  Dean’s expression changed to pleading.

  “If it’s something else, Gabby, then tell me.”

  Gabby shook her head. “No, because you’ve simmered on this for ten years. So, you’ve had plenty of time to come to that conclusion.”

  “Jesus Christ,” Dean muttered, and ran a hand through his hair.

  He turned back to her and said, “You should leave. Seriously, for your own safety. You should go, and move on with your life.”