Scarlet Unleashed

by Krihstin Zink

  “I-I just… I didn’t think it’d be this easy,” Lou’s mother utters with a dazed stare.

  “I want to go home, Olive. Can you take me home? Please?” I question in a timid tone.

  “Scarlet, you fled the hospital…”

  Olive begins to say, until I interrupt her with, “No, I left on my own accord. I truly feel better now.” Following an extensive amount of promises, she finally agrees to take me home. I thank Lou and his mother as Olive helps me from the sofa to the car. It’s dark out and a brisk March chill climbs up my spine.

  Sorrow looms as I realize the extent of my psychological hospitalization; since December, 2012. I spent my 25th birthday, January, 15th, 2013, hospitalized. And now, I would finally go home.

  Home.

  But, where is my home?

  My lover, David, is dead, and my sister, Violet, lives with her fiancé Milton. Jade and Adrian, my other siblings, have disowned us—their Naples family. My adoptive parents have their own issues, and I can’t just show up at my once-close friends, Tim or Kim’s, home.

  “I have no home to return to,” I whisper as Olive leaves Lou’s mother’s neighborhood.

  Olive offers her home and continues to focus on the road ahead of us. I agree to stay over, at least until I can figure out where I could go. After we’re inside of Olive’s plain townhouse, I hobble toward her sofa. In the fetal position, my exhaustion catapults me into a deep dreamless slumber.

  Morning comes, and I arise to Olive in a heated phone discussion. After several minutes of loud rebuttals, Olive finally agrees to allow Dr. Blantz to come over and evaluate me before I proceed to my next home.

  For a brief moment, I’m reminded of my short stay within the Naples foster care system. Clara’s face forms within my mind. And all over again, I feel like an abandoned, homeless soul.

  “Scarlet?” Olive inquires as she rounds the corner from her townhouse stairs.

  “Yes?” I reply in a meek tone.

  She shares what I already knew—Dr. Blantz is determined to evaluate me before I leave Olive’s home. After Olive concludes her revelation, I ask if I can borrow her cellular phone. She agrees, so I quickly dial Benjamin’s cell, but he doesn’t answer. Then, I try Elizabeth’s. Nothing.

  Finally, I dial Violet and she answers on the third ring. “H-hello?” she questions with a quiver in her voice.

  “Violet, it’s me, Scarlet,” I state in a rush before I unleash what I care to share of the past twenty-four hours. When I’ve completed my confession, I give Violent a moment to respond. She begins to sniffle as she always does before she weeps.

  “I’m fine, Violet. I feel better now. I’m sorry,” I offer. But it’s not enough, something seems off. Violet’s holding back, and I know that her sadness isn’t for me and the hellish few months I’ve survived.

  “Oh, Scarlet. It’s horrible,” she begins to say before I interrupt her.

  “I know, David’s dead." Even I’m stunned by my curtness. How could I just reveal my lover’s death with such apathy? But then, I recall how I felt when David confessed his transgressions: He stopped being my lover the moment he became one with Ivy, but love never fades, and my heart longs to be with him. “Oh, you don’t know?” she whispers. “Where are you?” she demands.

  Olive’s intense stare makes me uneasy. She realizes that her eavesdropping has me uncomfortable, so she shifts her position and gazes at the wall. My lips are dry, so I lick them then say, “I’m at a friend’s home; her name is Olive. She’s a nurse from DLC.”

  Violet becomes agitated when she notices an incoming call and then she requests, “Scarlet, love. Please, text me your friend’s address. I must speak to you in person.” She rushes through her demand, and then ends our call before I can respond.

  Olive puts her palm in front of me and says, “Here, I’ll text her my address.” I nod in agreement as I return her cell. What would be so important that Violet would need to say it in person?

  A knock and ring of the doorbell interrupt my reverie. “That must be Dr. Blantz,” Olive says before she glides toward the door. Dr. Blantz is curt with Olive as she questions my location. Olive shifts aside for Dr. Blantz to see me.

  “Scarlet…I’m so relieved that you’re all right. But, you must never leave a medical facility without first being discharged,” she orders as she takes the seat next to me. What I assumed was a simple conversation becomes Dr. Blantz’s evaluation. “What has changed?” she inquires in disbelief.

  “Kate’s gone,” I state, before I hug my legs and prop my cheek against my knees.

  In detail, I recollect each experience since Kate gained control of my vessel, as well as when she finally decided to vanish into Lou’s mother’s wall.

  “All of that screams delusions. But now… Now, your demeanor is different than the person I met in December.” Her gaze is forceful, as if she seeks an answer that I haven’t offered. I shrug my shoulders as I have no additional answers.

  “I noticed it too,” Olive chimes in.

  Dr. Blantz ignores Olives comment and questions, “Where will you… Everything is different now. What’s your plan?”

  I agree that nothing is the same. But that I indeed have a plan, and will ultimately return to the person I once was. If that’s even possible. Nonetheless, the life that I had, all the materialism and workaholic mind state, seems unnecessary. I need a change. I want to feel renewed and freed from my past.

  Recollections of my childhood abandonment stir negative thoughts as an intrusion of pained feelings quiver from within me. My hand shakes over my mouth, and I fail to control the flood of emotions that streams from my eyes as my chest tightens and restricts my breathing. I close my eyes and recline onto the sofa and will for this nightmare that has become my life to just end. Please, just let me wake up from this. Just let it be a nightmare.

  David’s sly smirk forms within my mind, and my memories of him shatter my self-control as uncontrollable sobs consume everyone’s attention. Dr. Blantz cradles me into a hug and soothes me as the uncertainty of my present and future wreak havoc with my emotions.

  A hurried knock at the door disrupts Dr. Blantz’s soothing embrace. Olive darts to the door and halts when her eyes take in Violet. My sister’s Dior aroma rushes in with her. She’s wearing what I assume is spring 2013’s…everything. Immediately, I feel like an underdressed bum.

  “Good day, I’m here for my sister, Scarlet,” Violet states in a timid tone. She must have felt so uncomfortable driving to this side of Naples. Again, Olive removes herself, and after days apart, Violet sees me on the sofa where I’m curled up and comforted by Dr. Blantz. Violet’s lips tremble as her eyes begin to mist while a weak smile forms. Dr. Blantz pats my back one last time before she excuses herself with Olive following behind her.

  “Oh, Scarlet. Come here,” Violet says, before we collapse into one another’s embrace. Her body trembles within my arms, and instantly I know something is wrong.

  “What is it? Tell me, Violet. I’m sure it can’t be worse than David’s passing.” I search Violet’s tearful eyes.

  She leans back then forms a dubious expression. The corners of her eyes wrinkle as she stares at me. “David’s not dead. His mom, Martha, contacted me because she couldn’t locate you,” Violet huffs in annoyance, then allows me a moment to process.

  “But…” I begin until Violet interrupts me.

  “Scarlet, that crazy bitch, Ivy, well, she seriously put David through hell…” She begins to reveal everything I already know: David’s downfall and detachment from his successful established life to a disgusting addict.

  “Ivy tried to kill him, so his medical team had no choice but to induce a coma—like they did with you.” Violet’s words prompt a wave of relief.

  Quickly, I realize that if David’s alive then maybe Kate would return. Nonetheless, I keep my qualms to myself while I listen to Violet as she rambles on about David’s coma, and how he’s waiting for a new heart at Mercy Hospital in Miami.
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br />   “But that’s too far.” I gasp in disbelief that David’s alive. He’s alive.

  I lean back onto the sofa, and for a moment it feels as if everything might just be all right. Violet shifts in discomfort, and I know something isn’t right after all. She came here to tell me something more important than David’s whereabouts. The sadness in her eyes and her hesitation to speak says it all.

  I urge her to reveal what has her upset. “Mom…Mom and Dad…are gone,” she sobs. Her words are like a stray bullet to my heart. Her face is hard, and I’m unsure what she means by gone. The longer Violet goes without speaking the wider the wound in my chest becomes.

  Scarlet

  Violet shifts then tightens her lips. I can see her rage develop so I brace myself for impact. She states that she stopped by their home because she hadn’t heard from them in days. Her hands rush to her cheeks as she fights to keep in control. The jolt of her news digs the emotional bullet deeper into my heart. David’s face and the relief I felt over his life and our possibility fades and vanishes like dry leaves on a windy day.

  “Their house… Scarlet, it was a disaster; it was absolutely ransacked.” She shakes her head and closes her eyes as stray tears glide down her face. Through sniffles, she reveals that there was an obvious struggle and an alarming amount of blood splatters throughout the kitchen, but our parents were absent.

  “Naples’ police department, questioned whether or not Mom and Dad were having issues…” She pauses and grips her fingers into her Chanel tote before she continues, “Can you believe them? To ask such a question.” Violet bellows in indignation at the audacity of the NPD to ask such an unjustified question.

  “Could it be Ivy?” I question as rage begins to build.

  “I drew the same conclusion.” She nods her head in agreement. Additionally, she reveals that Martha shared the same assumption. Similar to Kate, Ivy was able to elude incarceration. I know I should be upset and speak my mind, but honestly, I’m so emotionally defeated. Once again, some psycho bitch that’s obsessed with David is out to make my life hell. Is he even worth this drama?

  Now my parents might be dead because some psycho decided to take her crazy out on them. “What can we do?” I question before I scoot closer to Violet. She becomes silent as her shoulders sag in defeat.

  “It’s been over twenty-four hours. An officer called to say that the longer we go without finding them…” Her words halt and I know what she couldn’t speak. Several rushed exhalations jolt from Violet before she begins to weep.

  “I-just-this is all just-too much for me,” she stutters and gasps for air. She’s a bit of an ugly crier, but I’m strong for Violet and contain my emotions, however. On further evaluation, I note that I don’t share the same sorrow as Violet over our parents. Guilt stirs within me, and I remind myself that it’s not that I don’t care about our parents. Instead, my lack of grief is just emotional numbness. A thick fog of emotional numbness shields every inch of me.

  Somehow, I muster up enough warmth to soothe Violet until her cries cease. Once she’s composed herself, she questions where I plan to live. I’m honest and tell her that I’m unsure where to go.

  “All your belongings are at Mom and Dad’s. We can pack some items up before you come to my place.” Her smile fosters hope that something better for our family may be on the horizon. But then, I’m reminded of our distant family—the ones that want nothing to do with us anymore: Jade and Adrian. I inquire if Violet has informed them of our parent’s possible homicide.

  “Scarlet, we’re not on speaking terms with either of those assholes. They care more about what people say about them, not the whereabouts of their own parents,” she screeches with fury.

  There’s a knock on the door, followed by Olive and Dr. Blantz’s entering the room which ends our conversation. “Scarlet, dear, I must go. I see no reason why you should continue at DLC, however. I highly encourage you seek help if you need it,” she orders. And her positive news is what I need to prepare me for what’s to come with my parents.

  Now, instead of worrying over Kate, I have a new psycho bitch to fret about. And this one knows how to destroy the people I love.

  After Dr. Blantz departs for her vehicle, I turn to thank Olive for her hospitality. Once we’ve left her home, she shuts the front door behind us and a gust of air pushes against Violet and me as we step out. Violet helps me into the passenger side before scurrying to the driver’s side of her Cadillac sedan. As we leave Olive’s townhouse complex, a profound slumber incapacitates me.

  Damp, icy grass sticks to my feet as I rush through a dark, frightening forest. Taunting footsteps follow me and no matter how fast I run, my stalker is not far behind me. A misguided step causes me to trip over a decomposed corpse. I scream in horror as I recognize Elizabeth’s favorite Chanel charm placed carelessly on the corpse’s chest.

  “Nooo,” my anguished-filled shriek shudders through me. Twigs snap in the distance, and I know that my killer grows near. I’m torn between staying with my deceased mother or saving my life.

  “Gooo.” A gargle from Elizabeth’s throat frightens me. I’m forced to choke back a sob as I lift myself from the dried leaves and search for a safe hideout. But my speed is useless as a faceless, black figure finds me and strangles the life out of me.

  I’m startled awake and disturbed that I’m alone inside of Violet’s car. A glance out of the car window reveals that we’re parked at my parents’ home. Their ten-bedroom, six-bathroom, Spanish-style two-story in a cul-de-sac in Quail West country club appears as it always has. But I know what horrors within wait for me. Why did Violet just leave me?

  The passenger car door creaks open be as I straighten my legs to walk the distance from Violet’s sedan to my parents’ front door. I remind myself that I can make the walk; it will take time, but I can do it. With an immense effort, I take one painful step after another until I finally reach my parents’ front door.

  “Violet?” I call as I hold on tight to the door knob and swat a strand of yellow police tape out of my way. There’s yellow police tape splattered like holiday garland all over my parents’ home.

  “Are you sure we should be in here?” I question as I use the walls to help me toward the kitchen. At the kitchen’s door frame, I stop and wait for Violet. She’s stiff and focused on a spot on the kitchen tile.

  “Should we clean it?” she mumbles.

  My pace is steady and cautious as I grow near. Dry blood splatters as well as a large blood puddle create a ghastly scene, and for a moment, I feel as if I were in a Kate dream.

  “I could always call a cleaning service?” she questions. I know she’s only speaking to herself.

  “Let’s just pack some of my clothing and get out of here, please,” I plead as I rest my arm on her shoulder.

  One step at a time, she helps me up the stairs to what was once my bedroom while I lived with Benjamin and Elizabeth.

  “Eww. What’s that smell?” she halts as we open my bedroom door.

  “I’m not sure,” I respond as I pull my shirt over my nose.

  As we close the distance between the bedroom door and the closet door, a repulsive stench induces a wave of nausea to threaten at my throat. Violet fails to hold her stomach’s contents; she wiggles out of my arm and rushes toward the bathroom. Her vomit noises cause me to become a tad queasy, but I manage to hold it in. Fright trembles and radiates throughout me, and yet I’m glued to my spot on the carpet. I’m a fly stuck in a fly trap.

  Violet stumbles out of the bathroom, so I shift to glance at her. “Whatever is in there is rotten,” she squeals as she shifts to rush back to the toilet. Four more violent purges, and Violet finally rinses her mouth and returns to the bathroom door’s frame. She glistens in sweat and her disposition resembles that of a person that has food poisoning. She gapes at me as she strides in my direction.

  “Maybe we should call the cops?” she whispers as if her whispering would protect us from whatever is in my closet.

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nbsp; “I’m sure it’s nothing,” I say as I take a step toward the closet.

  An unlikely courage builds within me, and I know I should be frightened. I’ve faced a demon, I’ve survived love’s heartbreak, and before all of that, I developed a resilience to severe neglect and parental abandonment. Whatever is in my closet I can face.

  “Scarlet, please, let’s call the cops,” she pleads for me to halt. I brush her request aside, and with a ‘fuck it all’ demeanor, I jerk open the closet door. The foul order bellows out of the closet like the animated odor waves from a Glad trash bag commercial. My nose hairs singe as the unwelcomed stench enters my nostrils. And without any self-restraint, my vomit viciously hurls from my mouth and covers the large deceased dog that should have been buried weeks ago.

  “Yuck,” Violet squeals over my shoulder. “There’s the damn stray mom took in over a month ago.” Her voice reveals her relief that it wasn’t our parents, but also disappointment that we had to find this poor dead dog.

  Later, we agree that a cleaning service would be best while Violet helps me descend the stairs. Once I’m near the end, I collapse onto the bottom step.

  Violet makes a quick phone call to the working detective on our parents’ case. She reveals her findings, and questions if it would be possible to hire a cleaning service. After a mild discussion, she thanks him for his time and ends their call. She unties the scarf from her neck, then ties it over her nose and mouth and tells me that she’ll return in a moment. I stare at her as she takes two steps at a time to ascend the stairs.

  My parents’ home is desolate and eerie. Above me, I hear Violet rush back to the stairs. I’m relieved when I notice my overnight bag and one of my quilted Chanel totes on her shoulders. My possessions flood nostalgic memories of my materialistic life. The life I had before any of this craziness destroyed everything. A childhood with limited everything, to a life of everything I could ever want, to then becoming emotionally and mentally destroyed.