by Sally Mason
“Okay, Luke, but I don’t want any further trouble. Any more run-ins with the law will negatively impact your bar admission once you graduate law school.”
Luke grabs a beer from the cooler. “I promise, Dad, I’ll behave.”
I’m sure he is just as insincere with his words as I was earlier. Hopefully, he won’t encounter Jed alone on the street. Jed looked just as sturdy as he used to and has probably continued with his boxing training, even if he hasn’t performed in public since the scandal. Luke could get seriously hurt.
I dart from the table as soon as dinner is officially over and hide back in my room. My mood is thoroughly ruined and I stretch out on the bed, staring at the ceiling, which has been my favorite activity over the past three years. Jed’s nasty insinuation about me being screwed sliced deeper into my soul than I want to admit. It seems like no matter what, he has always been on the winning team.
After he got off on a technicality, Luke took a couple of swings at him and broke his nose. Jed had nothing better to do than run to the cops and cause a big stink. The prosecutor was Roy’s friend and Luke got away with forty hours of community service. When he turned twenty-one six months ago, he had his record expunged, so his criminal conviction was luckily gone. Yet the unfairness of it all rattled not only my world, but my belief in justice in general.
The pain hits me head on—everything that happened is really my fault. My mom had warned me not to walk home alone after the party, but I thought I was invincible and didn’t listen. I almost ruined Luke’s life when he fought my battles. Now, I drag the whole family down with my constant whining and impossible mood. Ultimately, I’m poison for everyone who cares for me.
Driven by a sudden undeniable urge, I hop off the bed and stroll over to my desk. The razor blade is hidden on the bottom of my wastebasket. I remove the tape holding it in place before finding myself in front of the bathroom mirror. With a grimace, I stick out my tongue. Dull eyes respond with a frown and I hold the blade next to my cheek. I’m sure if my face had been totally disfigured, I would never have been abducted. Maybe Jed will never look at me again if I do it now.
I picture how the blood would pulse out of me like red rain and drip into the sink— how the pain would surge through my body and overpower my pitiful existence. Cutting myself is like an addiction these days, the one thing that always makes me feel better. The physical agony is so powerful that everything else around me is numb. The adrenaline does the rest. It’s a high which allows me to forget—the burning pain the only sensation that has a total grip on me—even if it’s just for a few moments.
My hand moves farther down, running the blade over my skin just below my breast. Maybe I should slice it off? No man would ever be interested in me and a lot of heartache could be avoided. I run the edge over my belly, but know deep down that I would never have the guts to end my life. It is one thing to cut myself, yet another to call it quits for good. The latter is something I could never see through. Death would be the easy way out, but would leave my mom and Luke in shambles. They don’t deserve that, just so I could be taken out of my misery. I don’t even think I want that respite—not forever, anyway. The small escapes that I get from cutting are enough for now.
The razor ends up on my lower arm, which is already decorated with several scars. My last night’s despair cost me my coffee today. I only scratched the surface of the skin—it hardly even bled; the satisfaction ever so slight. Tonight, I need a real kick to forget the pain of the past. I will have to slice deep.
I squeeze my eyes shut and hold my breath when I finally slash into my arm. The pain spreads up through my shoulders and below into my fingertips. My hand shakes when I move further down to repeat the exercise. After my third gash, I move over to my other arm. My hand is trembling so hard that I almost drop the blade, but I manage three more cuts before my legs buckle.
I slide to the ground. The blood pulses from my veins and I’m stunned to see so much more than usual. It sprays everywhere, the white tiles next to me soon coated with crimson streaks. Nevertheless, I indulge in the pain as hot and cold flashes run through my body, balling my fists to stop my arms from shaking. When my eyelids grow heavy, I’m pulled into the depths of a bottomless ravine.
CHAPTER 3
A monotone beep soaks through the layers of fog surrounding my mind. I stir, trying to scratch the burning spot on my arm, until a throbbing pain radiates into my shoulder. Squinting at the bright light, I’m halfway expecting to be back in my underground prison and my heart beat accelerates. When the brightness burns in my eyes, I squeeze them shut again.
The scent in the air reminds me of latex gloves and gives me a headache. The last time I smelled something similar was on the night of my rescue when they took me to the hospital to perform those dreadful tests. In some ways, it was almost as bad as being raped. Strangers dug around in my insides, trying to scrape up any possible DNA evidence before pictures were taken of every bruise on my body. Everything was out in the open. The nurses stared at me with pity, while talking to each other behind shielding hands.
I finally pry my eyes open and scan the room. It’s painted in soft pastel colors, but without any pictures or other decorations. The blinds on the window are white and sterile. There are no curtains. This is definitely a hospital room and the annoying beeping sound from the monitor is probably my heartbeat.
My lower arms are covered in bandages. A tube runs from the crook of my elbow to an IV bag, which hangs on a metal rack right next to the bed and holds a clear liquid. Pain shoots through me every time I twitch.
I turn my head with great effort to examine the rest of the room. A nurse is sitting next to my bed, staring with blank eyes at a tree outside. She almost looks like a statue. When I croak out an indefinable sound, her head snaps around.
“Oh, you’re awake.” A smile spreads on her lips that doesn’t hit her eyes.
To be polite, I force the corners of my mouth to raise some. One point to her for being so observant.
She checks the drip. “Are you in any pain?”
“A little.” My throat scratches when I talk. “Why am I here?”
“Your parents admitted you when they found you.” She doesn’t elaborate further and injects a liquid in the IV bag. “This is for the pain.”
“Will it knock me out?”
“No.” She strokes my hand. “You don’t have to worry about a thing. You’re safe here and everyone has been taking good care of you.”
I sink back into my pillow when the room starts to spin. “What did you give me?”
She strokes my hand again. “It was a shot of Ketorolac, which we routinely give for muscle pain. You might feel a little woozy, but that’s normal. You don’t need to worry about a thing.”
I almost roll my eyes at her. She sounds like a broken record with her repeated assurances. My tongue licks over my cracked lips when the thirst becomes unbearable. “Can I have some water?”
“Everything you need it administered intravenously.” The smile has yet to leave her lips—she’s almost creeping me out. “I’ll have to clear it with the doctor before I can give you anything to drink.”
I grumble something under my breath to show my resentment, still struggling to believe my mom had me admitted to the hospital. “How long do I have to stay here?”
“Your doctor and your parents will explain everything to you. They’re meeting with the head of administration but should be back shortly. Unfortunately, nurses are not allowed to discuss medical information with a patient.”
I exhale slowly, shaking my head in my mind. “Whatever.” If they want to keep me in the dark, so be it. It’s not like I can go anywhere and it’s the same to me if I lie here or in my bed at home.
When I move my hips, something pulls between my legs. To my horror, a small plastic tube comes out from under the blanket. It’s filled with a yellow liquid and ends in a bag.
I shudder. “Am I on a catheter?”
“Yes. It’s sta
ndard procedure when you are on a drip and can’t get up. Don’t worry, it won’t be there for much longer.” Her voice has a cheerful cling clang to it. She’s probably just trying to make me feel better without even realizing how much she is getting on my nerves.
After that, she at least keeps her mouth shut, the beeping of the monitor the only thing that breaks the silence. With a sigh, I close my eyes, utterly exhausted from our little chat. The blanket weighs a ton but still protects me, though I feel stuffy. My legs are tingling from the tension. I want to get up and walk around. The stillness becomes nerve-racking, and ultimately, a shower is the only thing that could relax me. Hot water running over my skin has always had a soothing effect on me.
My mind drifts to the morning after the longest and worst night of my life. Come to think of it, I felt a tiny bit like I do now—my throat was raw from all the screaming and begging. Every inch of my body throbbed, my insides on fire whenever I moved. Yet it was so cold and my body shivered; I was naked and unprotected with my arms and legs tied to the bedposts in a spread-eagle position. A blindfold blocked the light. I strained my ears for any sound; other than my own breath and rhythmic heartbeat, there was nothing but absolute silence.
That day, I would have been happy to have a catheter, my bladder so full that it almost burst. I felt so sticky down there and I was determined not to soil myself even more. When I was just about to give up, the key in the door turned. My body tensed, halfway expecting my tormentor to have returned to violate me even more.
When warm fingers stroked over my belly, I winced, my heart pounding in my throat. The hands moved alongside my neck and up my cheek before stopping under the blindfold. Heated fingers removed it with one pull. I gazed into Jed’s ebony eyes, which viewed me with a mixture of hunger and curiosity.
“Good morning, honeybun.” There was a wide grin on his face. “Enjoyed your night?”
I turned my head when my insides revolted at the sight of his cheerfulness. “Can you please untie me?” My voice was so hoarse that the words were barely audible. “I really have to use the bathroom.”
“You promise not to attack me? I don’t want to have to knock you out again.”
I nodded.
He loosened the ropes enough for my wrists and ankles to slide out before pointing with his chin to a pot on the floor. “You can pee in there.”
I froze for a moment, but my urges were overpowering. When I tried to stand, I wobbled and his arm slid around my waist to stabilize me. His touch brought tears to my eyes. I recoiled, which only tightened his grip.
My feet stumbled forward until I was next to the pot. With blurry eyes, I gazed at Jed. “Can you at least turn around?”
He hesitated before giving in and facing the wall. I went down on my knees, the pot between my legs. As my bladder emptied, a soft moan escaped my lips, yet the pee burned terribly as it left my body. The stench was nauseating. I only took small shallow breaths until I was done.
When I stood up, I realized Jed did not keep his end of the bargain and was watching me intently. I instinctively covered myself with my hand and wrapped an arm around my chest. My eyes dropped to the floor.
“You look different,” he said.
My stomach clenched. I had always wanted my first time to be special. A few hot tears dripped to the ground, splattering on the dusty floor. His friend destroyed everything pure in me.
All of a sudden, I had an urge to cleanse myself. “Can I take a shower?”
His gaze wandered to my thighs and I noticed they were smudged with blood.
“Later,” he said. “I have to make sure the house is secured first so you don’t run off on me.”
Maybe if I had some water, I could at least get rid of the sticky feeling. “I’m really thirsty.” My voice was small and sounded like that of a nagging child.
“I’ll get you a drink and something to eat, too.” He chuckled. “After all, you need your energy. It’s my turn next.”
His words went straight to my core, all my muscles clamping together. Tears trickled down my cheeks as he gave me a final once-over before slamming the door shut behind him. This time, he kept the light on, making me realize just how dirty I truly was.
Mumbled voices mix with my horrid memories and I blink toward the door to make out a group of people with Roy in the lead. He’s accompanied by my mom and Luke, a woman in a white coat walking next to him. That’s probably the doctor.
She is the first to speak. “Good morning, Kelsey. I’m Dr. Lestrup. How are you feeling?”
I roll my eyes but give her a smile regardless. “Fine, I guess.”
“The nurse told me that you have a lot of questions.”
I just glare at her—who wouldn’t after waking up in a hospital bed with her arms all bandaged up?
“Well, you were admitted after you lost a lot of blood since you hit a major artery during your suicide attempt.”
I suck in a deep breath, trying to keep myself from screaming. “I didn’t try to kill myself.” My eyes beg when I turn toward my mother. “Please, Mom. You know I would never attempt to take my life.”
“I’m sorry, Kelsey, but I don’t know what to believe anymore. You’ve been shutting me out and I have no clue what’s going on in your head. Even Dr. Stromberg isn’t sure if you didn’t subconsciously want to end it all.”
I tilt my head back with a small growl. This is ridiculous. “What will happen next?” I want to go home, but they will probably force me to stay in a mental ward for a few days.
My mom confirms my suspicion. “There is this new clinic in Sabattus right by the lake. We think it would be good for you to stay there for a while and get some help.”
I’ve heard about the place. It’s a modern loony bin for people with serious mental health issues. “I don’t want to go there. I swear I’ll work harder with Dr. Stromberg.”
Uncertainty is on my mother’s face when she looks at Roy with confused eyes.
I sputter, “Please, Mom, I promise I’ll be good. No more cutting.”
Luke snorts. “It’s getting old, Kels. No one believes you anymore. You’re out of control and need some serious help.”
My jaw drops when I stare at him. He has never stabbed me in the back before. “Luke, you know—”
“No, Kels, not this time. We’re worried sick about you and you’re getting worse. You were lucky that I checked on you or you would’ve probably bled to death. Jed being back in town might push you over the edge. I love you too much to let him destroy you. This place will be good for you.”
I adamantly shake my head. “No, it won’t.” I raise up my chin. “And I won’t go. You can’t force me.”
Roy jumps in and delivers the final blow. “We filed court papers, Kelsey, and the judge signed an order for involuntary committal. I’m afraid you don’t have a choice in this matter. Even your dad agrees.”
Tears pool in my eyes—I have never felt more alone. They just abandon me when I need them the most and send me away like an unwanted puppy who has become an inconvenience. “For how long?”
“Four months.”
Those two words are like a punch in my stomach. “That’s the whole summer.” A wailing sob escapes my lips. It sounds like an eternity.
Luke lowers himself next to me on the bed. “Trust me, it’s for the best.”
My anger flares up. He has no clue what he’s talking about. It’s already bad enough that I feel trapped in my own mind all the time, but now, they are even going to take away the little bit of freedom I have left. “Go to hell, Luke.” My words are muffled by my tears. “I hate you.” I gaze at my mother. “I hate all of you. Don’t think I’ll come home after this. I’ll leave Maine and you’ll never see me again.”
This threat is my last attempt to blackmail them into reconsidering this outrageous idea, but none of them budge.
My mother’s eyes are glazed with tears. “I’m sorry, honey, but this is the end of the line. Our decision is final.”
I t
urn my head away. In that moment, I actually wish I had died. “Get out.”
My voice is shrill and I gasp for air, rattling the bed when my fingers wrap around the rails. The pain shooting up my arms numbs the feeling of rejection. My lungs burn as I try to retain the oxygen, yet my body shakes uncontrollably from the tears that keep spilling from my eyes. As my mouth opens and closes like a fish on land, I catch an occasional shallow breath, which doesn’t seem to make it past the rising bile in my throat.
“She’s having an anxiety attack.” Doctor Lestrup’s statement breaks through my mind like a big joke. What did they expect?
Luke rubs my shoulder, which irritates me even more and I tear away. Loud rapid beats from the monitor echo in my ears. My heart jumps around in my chest when blood begins to rush in my head like a rapid flowing river. A warm tingling sensation spreads up my arm from where the IV needle pierces my skin before the room spins. Darkness once again closes in on me, taking me mercifully away from my treacherous family.
CHAPTER 4
When the orderly wakes me in the morning, my response is to throw a pillow in her direction. It has been three days since I arrived at Oakwood House and I have yet to venture from my room. I blew off four appointments with the psychologist and have refused to take part in meals at the mess hall, boycotting my family’s plan through and through. They can force me to stay here, but not to play ball with the other kids.
I swing my legs out of bed and graze the floor with my toes. The mint green linoleum is still cool from the night. It takes me a while before I get motivated enough to peel myself out of my blanket. I toddle to the window to take a peek outside.
The sky is bright blue with the sun glancing through the treetops. It’s another beautiful summer day in the making with Sabattus Pond sparkling mockingly under my nose. A small growl escapes when my eyes fall onto the wall that separates the garden from the small pebble beach. I’m a damn prisoner, allegedly for my own good. It’s just plain annoying.
