Friends vs. Family

by C. L. Stone

  No reply.

  Was she already gone? I rattled on the stool. I was drowning in the onslaught of water, nearly scalding. My legs cramped already at being in an awkward position and having to force myself to balance. I was tempted to fall over anyway but worried more about cracking my head open on the bathtub. Would it help? Would she leave me mangled and broken in the tub or put me back into place?

  “I’m sorry!” I shouted. If I could get out of this, I would do whatever it took to never let her catch me again. I promised myself to be more careful, to get rid of those notes and any hint of the boys. I’d been slacking. How could I have ever known she would go this far?

  Panic forced my breath to catch and it was hard enough to breathe under the onslaught of scalding water.

  I twisted my head to the left, waiting there for as long as I could stand it. When the water was too hot, I turned my head again to the right, catching a different angle. The water felt like it was burning the tender bits of skin around my eyes, at my ears, and along my lips.

  I sobbed. I called for Marie. I called for dad. I knew they weren’t there, but I didn’t know what else to do. I called for my mother. “Help me,” I cried out. “Please stop! Please!”

  Motion nearby caused me to pause. She came back! She realized she’d gone too far. I never cried like this for kneeling in rice or for any of her other punishments Please. Just turn the water off. That’s all. I’ll stay here for hours. I’ll do it. Just not with the water.

  A hand gripped my hair, forcing my head back. A cup lip smacked at my mouth. I breathed in vinegar and lemon.

  I opened my mouth before she had a chance to strike me with the cup again. I swallowed, forcing back my sobs. I was only halfway done when my stomach lurched and I started purging. The cup was pulled back. I tilted my head away, still with the onslaught on hot water against my painful skin. I emptied my stomach into my lap. Stomach acid mingled with the lemon and vinegar against my raw skin.

  When I was done vomiting, the hand was back and I was forced to drain the cup. When I was finished, the glass was dropped into the tub. It cracked against the basin, shattering. I was puking again on myself, sobbing, feeling my throat scratching. I wanted to take in water but my throat was burning and the water was too hot.

  The shower curtain was pulled over, shadowing me against the light. I heard the inside lock flip and the door closed. I twisted around, peeking through the water.

  If Marie came looking for me, it might look like I was temporarily in the shower. She might not think to check on me at all. My mother had thought ahead enough that she didn’t want anyone freeing me before she came back.

  I was alone.

  When the hot water died about thirty minutes later, I was still crying. I felt the phone at my back pocket and I couldn’t get myself to even attempt to save it. I was sure it was broken now. What could I do with it anyway? The guys couldn’t come save me because my mother would stop them, perhaps even call the police on them and have them arrested. Would they ever forgive me if one of them ended up in jail?

  If I kept my head tilted forward, it gave me just enough breathing space that I could take in some clean air without breathing in water droplets. It was extremely uncomfortable. I held it for as long as I could to allow myself to catch my breath.

  Soon, my tears died off. My breathing was ragged, my throat stinging. I tried drinking water but I coughed it up quickly and the coughing irritated my throat further.

  At least the water was cool.

  I stared off into space a lot. The feather blue paint along the edge of the shower near the ceiling looked a lot like a shirt I’d seen Luke wear to school. I thought of his blond hair and the contrasting dark brown eyes, when my neck started hurting and my face couldn’t stand another moment of the constant spray.

  The sliver-like gleam of the faucet reminded me of Victor’s medallion. I thought of his finger tracing along my skin as he held my hand between classes. I thought of Silas hugging me, strong enough to pick me up off of the ground. Memories swept through me of North’s intense brown eyes, and the feel of his fingers massaging my scalp, of Gabriel’s curses and stealing my hair clip, of Kota’s smooth fingers tracing my cheek, and of Nathan making faces at me when I peeked back at him during geometry.

  I even thought about Mr. Blackbourne and Dr. Green. I thought about Greg and Mike and Rocky and other people at school that I’d met. I thought about Mr. Hendricks and Mr. McCoy as little as possible, but when I did, I kept thinking how even though they were faulty in many ways, they probably never had to deal with this. Greg was vulgar, Mike was brass, Rocky was arrogant. None would dare tie me to a chair in the shower.

  Most of the time though, I thought of the boys. I wondered if Kota was worried about me. I wondered if they tried to text but I was shaking and sobbing so badly before that I thought perhaps if they tried, I wouldn’t have felt it. Or the phone really was broken. Victor would be so mad when I showed him the phone later. I wondered if they even noticed I was gone.

  I wondered when my mother would come back for me.

  Hours passed, I didn’t know how many. My back was sore. I was shivering. My skin felt raw and heavy, like clinging plastic wrap covered it. I kept my eyes closed, my head down for as long as possible, and shifted in my chair. I got used to the way it would rock back and forth. At one point, I tried to twist my body so the chair would move. It did, about an inch. The stool tilted so badly I was afraid it would fall over.

  I was tempted to let it. I twisted my body to look behind myself. If I fell in one direction, I would crack my head on the faucet. If I went the other way, I would be on my side, still tied up and helpless. If I tried falling out of the tub, I would probably end up upside down and still unable to move.

  My hands felt numb. My feet did, too. I wasn’t even sure if my feet were still up on the vertical spokes of the stool. I wondered if I was doing more damage to my ankle and the bruised bones. My butt was asleep as well. Every piece of me felt so cold. When the air conditioner kicked on, it got so much worse that I was shivering, rocking precariously on the stool.

  I was slumped over, almost passed out when the chair started to careen forward. With my heart in my throat, I leaned back, trying to balance myself out. I caught it just in time and rattled back into stabilizing. I couldn’t fall asleep. I willed myself to stay awake. I bit my tongue, my cheek, anything to force my eyes open. I stared off at the wall. How long was she going to keep me in here?

  More time passed. I tried counting the minutes. My throat was scratchy, and despite sipping the water falling around my face, I still coughed it up. I tried my voice, but I couldn’t hear myself.

  My skin felt so tight and sore, I wanted to scrape it from my body. Every little drop of water against my face felt like a sting.

  I moved my arms, hitting the edge of the stool and slapping my hands against the wood of the chair. I wasn’t sure if my mother or Marie could hear me if they were nearby, but I was desperate. Would my mom come back and do something else?

  I was desperate enough to take that risk. I wasn’t sure what time it was, but it felt late. I’d do anything to get out of the shower.

  If I passed out, I knew I would die.

  S aturday

  I stretched my arms against the resistance of the cord toward my hip pocket. I didn’t know if I could reach anyone. I didn’t know if the phone still worked. All I knew was that I had been forgotten.

  With what little room the rope gave to me, I scrunched my biceps and tugged my shorts down to better access the pocket where the phone was. My fingers clipped the edge of the phone and it started to slide out. I clutched it, gripping at the phone tightly until I heard a crack. With numb fingers, it was hard to manipulate. I was shaking badly, afraid I would drop it. It was my only shot.

  I bit my lip and held the phone up. I straightened my body against the onslaught of cool water to block the spray the best I could from reaching my back and the phone. It was difficult not to try to peek
over my shoulder to find out if the screen lit up.

  I used my thumb to punch at it, trying to remember exactly what I needed to select to reach the guys.

  Please, please, someone. Anyone. I don’t care who. Please work.

  If it wasn’t broken, I only had seconds before the water spraying around me might break it for good.

  I jabbed the phone with my finger, hitting at random for what I thought would be the guy’s applications, ones Dr. Green had installed on my phone. I jabbed again; aiming for what I thought would be one of four square buttons of different colors. I was unsure of which one I was pushing. Black, red... Not that it mattered. I thought this constituted an emergency.

  I kept pushing, just in case my first attempts didn’t work. A ringing buzz sounded, so faint against the fall of water around me. I’d dialed someone.

  Please. Please, anyone. Be there.

  The ringing stopped. A click. “Aggele mou?”

  I swallowed, willing my voice to work. “Silas!” I squeaked out. I grasped the phone, trying to be steady. I wasn’t sure he could hear me at all. The water was spraying louder than I thought I was speaking. “Silas, Silas... help. Please. Silas.”

  Quiet. I twisted and a sudden muscle spasm struck me hard against my legs and back. The phone slipped from my hands. I was too slow to catch it. It fell and skimmed down into the tub. It cracked against the basin, sliding to the drain.

  I sobbed, calling out to Silas, crying out his name over and over. I could only hope he heard me. I could only hope he understood. I needed him.

  I closed my eyes, my heart was wild in my chest. I slapped my hands against the chair. I rocked back and forth on the stool until I felt too unstable to do it anymore. If Silas was still on the phone, I wanted him to know I was there. I didn’t want this fragile connection severed.

  I was drifting off again when I heard footsteps in the hallway and my head popped up, despite the stab of pain in my neck and the water pouring into my face. I shivered hard, causing the stool to shake underneath. I didn’t care who it was, even if it was my own mother who would only have me get on my knees or move me somewhere else. I would go anywhere. Did Marie come back? Did Silas hear me?

  The footsteps moved away and I cried out in my raspy voice. “Help!” My voice was lost to the stream of water. I called again and again, grunting, groaning, destroying the last of my vocal cords to try to lure whoever was out there to come back. I slapped my hands against the wood of the chair. I rocked on the stool.

  Voices sounded. Low and deep. The guys! I rocked on the stool.

  The voices came closer. “I double checked, she’s passed out,” Nathan’s voice drifted to me. I quieted to hear. “I’ve looked everywhere. Sang’s not here.”

  I am here! I slapped, slamming my wrists against the wood. Please hear me!

  “Who’s in the shower?” Silas’s deep voice echoed.

  “It’s got to be Marie,” Nathan said. “I checked her room, she’s not in there. Maybe Sang’s out in the woods. I told her not to go without me.”

  No, not Marie! In a panic, I clutched my knees together against the stool. Please hear me, please hear me.

  With what little strength I had left, I jumped, trying to lift the chair with me to slam myself back down against the tub.

  Thunk.

  My butt slammed against the flat part of the wood. Pain radiated from my tailbone through my spine. A sharp pang connected against my ankle. I gasped, a wash of red covering my eyes at the agony.

  More silence. Were they thinking Marie was finishing up and were they trying to get away?

  “Silas!” I squealed. “Nathan!” I knew they couldn’t hear me. I collected myself. I pulled myself up again, twisting my ankle as I drew up the stool and slammed it down against the tub. I rocked forward, and leaned back to stop myself from slipping off into the tub.

  “That’s not Marie. That’s Sang,” Silas said. The doorknob rattled and a thud pounded against the door.

  I twisted my face away from the door, shaking, crying quiet sobs. Thank you, thank you.

  The floor shook, a loud crack thundered, mixed with splitting wood as the door broke away from the frame, slamming up against the wall. I vibrated with shivers so hard against the stool I was sure I was going to fall over. I was ashamed, cold, tired, in pain. I was embarrassed they had to come for me. I was so sorry to drag them into this. What would I ever do without them?

  The curtain was pulled back. Silas loomed over me, his face contorting into a rage so strong that I wanted to cower but I wouldn’t allow myself to do it.

  “Fucking shit,” Nathan said. He looked confused, disbelieving his own eyes. He reached out for me, diving into the cold water and wrapping his arms around me. “God damn it Sang, why the hell didn’t you call us sooner?”

  Silas reached down, pulling at the stool. “She’s fucking tied up.” He growled and helped Nathan, pulling me and the stool out from the shower.

  They lowered me onto my side against the floor of the bathroom. I coughed against the tile.

  Nathan put his warm hand against my cheek. “Sang?” he called to me. He brushed my hair away from my face.

  “Nathan,” I said as loud as I could, but there was nothing to my voice.

  His blue eyes lit with tears. He shook his head. His eyes drifted from my face to my bound hands and feet. He grumbled something and turned back to me. “I’m going to break this damn thing, okay? Don’t move.”

  I nodded but on my side, I was shivering uncontrollably. I wasn’t sure if shivering counted as moving.

  I heard Silas speaking but I couldn’t see him. “Kota? We’ve got her. No, she’s not okay. Bring Dr. Green. We’re taking her to Nathan’s.”

  Nathan stood over the stool. Silas slipped down and hovered over me, wrapping his arms around my shoulders. Nathan kicked at the stool. I was jerked but Silas held on. The wood split. Another kick and my hands in the cords pulled away from the stool. He worked on freeing my legs, breaking the smaller wood slats and sliding the rope free.

  Silas collected me in his arms, picking me up. I was still shaking so bad, but I felt his warmth and leaned against him, burying my face into his shoulder.

  The water was turned off and a moment later Nathan held out a towel. Silas readjusted until he had the towel wrapped over my body.

  “Let’s get her out of here,” Silas said.

  “No shit,” Nathan said.

  My eyes closed as Silas thudded down the back stairs. I breathed in the night air.

  R escue p arty

  I woke up to the smell of cypress and menthol. The scents confused me. The sheets were stiff against my skin. Did I do something to my bed? My face felt heavy and thick, like I had the worst cold in the world. My head throbbed between my eyes.

  Dry air tickled my throat and a coughing spasm hit me hard. I sat up, and through slit eyes from my raging fit, I recognized Nathan’s bedroom with karate posters and exercise equipment stuffed into his closet.

  My lungs were on fire. I needed fresh air. The menthol was suppressing and I couldn’t breathe.

  I got on my knees, trying to crawl to the edge of the bed. My whole body rattled as I coughed. I touched the floor and I got one step before my legs failed. I collapsed against Nathan’s dresser, knocking it against the wall. I slid to the floor. Objects sitting on top of his dresser dropped to the carpet around me.

  The door opened. Kota and Luke hovered in the doorway. There were more faces beyond them that I couldn’t make out as my eyes blurred.

  I sat up against the dresser. The cluster of people at the door swooped in on me all at once.

  Kota reached me first. He put his arm around my shoulders, trying to pull me up. His spice scent around me was too much. I pushed him away. I was coughing too hard to tell him that it felt suffocating.

  Dr. Green nudged Kota away. He pressed his palms against my cheeks in an effort to get me to focus. I tried to back up but I was against the dresser and couldn’t move. I pushed a
t his arms but he wouldn’t budge. “Sang,” he said. “Sang, listen to me. Calm down. If you pass out, I’ll have to take you to the hospital.”

  “Air,” I breathed out. “I can’t... I need air.”

  “Let me take her,” Kota said. He pulled me into his arms, despite my squeaking protests. I coughed against his shoulder, my eyes scrunched closed. I willed myself to stay conscious. I didn’t want to have to go anywhere. I wanted to be with them.

  Kota passed through Nathan’s house. The sliding glass door was pulled aside and Kota put me down onto the concrete of Nathan’s back patio. He took my arms and he held them over my head.

  It helped. I sucked in air between the raging coughs and slowly I started to calm down. He held me like that until it died off and I was drinking in oxygen.

  Kota knelt by my head, bringing his face close to mine. His glasses slid down his nose as his green eyes softened. “Sang?”

  I wiped my face to clear my eyes. “Kota,” I breathed out.

  “Want to sit up?”

  I nodded. He crawled behind me, pulling me up by the shoulders until his chest pressed against my back. His legs extended on either side of mine. His arms were wrapped around my stomach. I was shaking again but I was warm and Kota was there.

  North knelt next to us. His dark eyes met mine and he frowned. “You okay, Sang Baby?”

  “Perfect,” I squeaked out.

  His eyes glazed and he blinked hard, but he grinned down at me. “You’re so full of shit.”

  I attempted a smirk. He was right. My face still hurt. My throat and lungs felt twisted like knots. I hated feeling so helpless. I hated that I’d brought them into this. I was consumed with worry that my mother was looking for me right now, maybe even calling the police to find me. Still, I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to stay forever.