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Worlds Between

Page 58

by Sherry D. Ficklin


  He leans forward, his face serious. He really wants to know my story. “You can tell me, Alisa. I'll understand.”

  He might, but I can't risk it no matter how much I want to help him, no matter how much I want him to trust me or like me. Shaking my head and giving him a look of apology, I blink my eyes and disappear.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  ~No Relief~

  Alisa

  Once again, I flee home. I curl up on my bed in a ball like I used to when life seemed overwhelming. Gram's words come back to me again. Mr. Roland interrupts my life. How can I forgive someone who did something so heinous that my every waking moment is torment and my every nightmare carries his face? I don't know how to let go. I don't know how to heal.

  After a while, I sit up. The house is quiet, so I peek into my parent's room, and then check Ty's room, two doors down from mine. All empty. I debate floating through the floor to Derek's room, but I'll just find the same thing. Nothing.

  I have to get back to my work, but for a moment more, I bask in the familiarity I miss so much, floating to the living room, and running my fingers across the ivory keys of our grand piano. I come to rest on the hard, black bench, all the music I've memorized rushing to the forefront of my mind. I yearn to hear that music streaming from my fingers again... but I can't press the keys. I can’t do anything without a body. I threw mine away, and now more than ever, I wish for it back.

  Wallowing in self-pity, I drown in my misery until I can’t stand to be with myself any longer. I have to do something. In the past, I would have called Natty. Where is a heavenly phone when you need one? As soon as the thought crosses my mind, the unnerving tug and pull of spirit travel pulls me from my house in an unwelcome flash of energy.

  A moment later, I find myself in the all-too-familiar living room of Natty's old house. The house that has become a memory of torture for both her and me.

  For a moment, I stand frozen, anticipating hyperventilation. Memories whirl in a tornado of confusion. Why did I come here?

  I search the room. Very little has changed. The same flower-print couch rests against the back wall; the same matching end tables hold the same brass lamps. The painted walls now sport a lighter shade of brown, and there's hardwood where carpet used to be, but that is the only difference.

  Some strange force in the pit of my soul pulls me down the long hall toward Natty's old bedroom. I stand in the threshold and peek in, seeing light blue, newly painted walls with baseball posters tacked up. There's a toy-box in the corner. The unmade bed screams this is no longer Natty's room.

  I back up and glance toward the kitchen—sick curiosity taking hold of me. There's a door in there that leads to the basement, and like all horror movies, all the bad stuff happened in the basement.

  I can't stop myself even though every fiber of my being cries out for me to turn around and run. The brass door handle is locked. Has that lock always been there? It's been years since I've been down there, and I certainly don't want to go down now, so why do I feel compelled to descend these stairs?

  Pushing through the door, I take that first step. Darkness envelopes me, but I see with perfect clarity. Spider webs hang from the rafters with eerie daintiness—their delicate threads decorating the ceiling with scalloped dust. I enter the room of horrors—a ten by twelve area of cement and two-by-fours. Memories smash their way through my brain, forcing me to re-experience those tortured moments with stunning accuracy.

  I'm twelve years old, wearing a pink and white sundress my mom sewed for my birthday. I sit on a wooden crate down in the basement where Mr. Roland led me. I watch him approach, a sticky-sweet smile on his puffy, flushed face.

  “I'm so glad you came over today,” he says. “Natty gets so lonely.” He moves closer and squats before me, his hands resting on my bare knees.

  Vomit rises in my throat, but I'm too afraid to cry out or show my fear. My breathing hitches, and I hug my arms close to my chest.

  Maybe he won't hurt me today. Maybe he's just being friendly. Maybe he'll take my hand and lead me upstairs into the safety of the afternoon sunshine.

  “I get lonely too,” he says, his hand sliding up my leg.

  Instantly, raw fear, so powerful I can't control it, takes over. I come back to the present, screaming with feral terror, falling to my knees. Dry sobs wrench violently through my mind. I can hardly think, can hardly stand to relive it.

  “Help me,” I whisper to whoever is listening. In the blink of an eye, I materialize back in Idir Shaol, rocked to the soothing tones of Gram's voice.

  “Shh, darling. Everything will be all right.”

  ***

  I don't know how long I sit there, wrapped in the comfort of Gram's arms, but after a moment, I pull back and gaze into her bright blue eyes. “I'm a basket case,” I say, feeling like I should be wiping tears from my face.

  “No, you're perfectly normal.”

  “Now you're lying.” I smile and look down at my hands clasped in my lap. “I don't even know what normal is.”

  “It's you,” she says, smoothing back my hair.

  “I think you're right, Gram. About Mr. Roland, I mean.”

  “I know,” she whispers, squeezing my hand. “You'll get there. Don't worry.”

  I'm not sure I believe her. I don’t know if I'll ever get there; if I'll ever be purged of the hate and anger I feel toward that vile man. “I should get back. Brecken probably needs me.”

  Gram faces me with a proud grin. “Yes. That is exactly what you should do. I'm so proud of you, Alisa. You've grown so much.”

  “You think?”

  “Oh, yes. You're doing wonderfully.” She takes my face in her hands and kisses me, then draws me in for a hug. “I'll see you again soon.”

  I smile and squeeze back. “I love you so much.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  ~New Resolve~

  Brecken

  Brecken stares at the empty space where Alisa just stood. She's gone. Just like that. Just like always.

  Somehow, she has gotten under his skin, and his desire to make her leave is wavering. And then what does she do? She leaves of her own accord when he doesn't want her to. He kind of likes having her around... just to hear her sarcastic comments that make him laugh, not that he would ever admit it to her.

  But he can tell she is holding back, not wanting to share her story. He understands. He feels the same way most of the time. The less people know, the easier life is. But Alisa makes him want to talk, to share. He wants to unburden his heartache, his worries, to her. He feels she might understand, that she'll be there for him, just like she said. Can he trust her? He wants to.

  He thinks back to their last moment. The sadness in her eyes and the slump of her shoulders as she disappeared. She's hurting. He can feel it, and he wants to help her to heal.

  A part of him forgives her for leaving when things get uncomfortable. But another part of him grows irritated. It seems that leaving is her answer to everything. For once, he'd like to see her be strong, the way she always nags him to be.

  The hypocrisy of their situation slaps him hard in the face. She wants him to turn his life around and be a “good boy,” yet she has some serious issues she won't admit or confront either, let alone talk to him about.

  The more he thinks about it, the more frustrating it gets. He'll tell her exactly what he thinks when she comes back. But right now, he needs to focus on his sisters. He doesn't want to ruin their day with a bad attitude. His mother's sweet voice and calming words come to mind. “Wherever you go, no matter the weather, always bring your own sunshine.” She'd heard it somewhere and had loved it, repeating it to them daily. He couldn't forget the quote even if he tried.

  He forces a smile and calls to his sisters. “Get your stuff, guys. It's time to go.” They'll go to the zoo, eat hot dogs, watch the elephants, and have a wonderful time. Brecken intends to force himself to have fun, to be fun, to laugh and act like he hasn't a care in the world... for his sisters.r />
  CHAPTER THIRTY

  ~A Day at the Zoo~

  Alisa

  With a sigh, I appear in the backseat of an old Ford Taurus. Their mom's old car. I sit beside Sophie as she holds a doll and whispers to herself as she plays. Heidi and Brecken sit in the front, neither saying much. After a few minutes, we pull up to a beautiful, red brick home with three white gables and a black front door that gleams in the sun. Lovely shrubbery decorates the yard and walkway. The house oozes money. I almost expect a doorman to appear.

  “Just one sec,” Heidi says, jumping out of the car. “I'll get her.”

  A moment later, a girl Heidi's age bounds out the front door, her blonde A-line surrounding her creamy-white face. She wears expensive clothes I recognize. The kind I used to wear. Sketchers, Abercrombie and Fitch shorts, an Aeropostale t-shirt. A cute little clutch hangs over one shoulder.

  I miss clothes like that.

  “Hi Madison!” Sophie calls from the back seat.

  The door opens beside me and Heidi slides in, pushing me to the middle, letting Madison sit in front beside Brecken. The girl stares at him, and I can't help but giggle at her obvious infatuation.

  Brecken's head whips around, searching for the creator of that giggle. I duck down, not that it matters. It's too bright for him to see me. Although I'm pretty sure he senses me in the back seat.

  “What's the matter, Breck?” Heidi asks. “Who are you looking for?”

  He catches her eye and shakes his head. “Just thought I saw... a car coming. No big deal.”

  Heidi turns and looks out the back window. “Well, let's go before it gets too hot.”

  ***

  A fresh breeze blows softly as we meander along the Zoo's winding paths. I stay behind, following in Brecken's wake, watching the dynamics of this little family. Tall trees sway and aromatic flowers grow with abundance. The reptile building smells musky, the sour odor surrounding us like a cloud. Even in my spirit state, I can smell it.

  I watch Brecken, amazed at the way he treats his sisters—so patient, so... nice. Granted, my brothers mostly treated me the same way, but Brecken... well, he just doesn't look the type. He looks like the guy who will snarl and hiss if you get too close.

  I step close—so close I can smell his cologne. I take a deep whiff, liking whatever it is he wears, wishing I could smell it better. He turns, hearing my inhalation, but doesn't say anything.

  I can still hear Heidi saying, “Did you take your pill?”

  What will he do if I tease him like I used to tease my own brothers, I wonder, feeling playful. I miss that lighthearted bantering and want to have a little fun. I place my hand on top of his head and try to ruffle his hair. I can't really mess it up. I don't know how to move objects—if that's even possible, but Brecken knows I'm there.

  He swirls around, dropping Sophie's hand, accidentally smacking Madison on the arm.

  “Ow!” she howls. “What are you doing?”

  He searches the area, smoothing his hair. “Nothing. It was... my hair's messy.”

  “I don't think your hair could get any messier,” Heidi says with a derisive chuckle.

  “Very funny,” he says.

  “I like your hair, Brecken. I think it's cool.” Madison grins up at him with eyes of adoration. She sidles up, standing closer than necessary.

  Once we start walking again, I take Brecken's hand in mine. This was my favorite thing to do with my older brother, Derek. He'd always try to shake away, irritated. I loved embarrassing him. Just like I suspect, Brecken jumps and tries to shake me away. I laugh in spite of myself. He dances around looking like an acrobat.

  The girls stop and stare.

  When Brecken realizes he is the center of attention, he stops, taking a deep breath. “I'm going to the restroom. I'll catch up to you at the giraffes.”

  The girls scowl and walk off without him. Madison is clearly disappointed.

  “Oh man. That was funny!” I laugh and slap my knee. “You should have seen your face.” I do my best impression of him, dancing around, shaking my contaminated hand.

  “Cute. Real cute and very mature.” He walks the other way, a few four-letter words drifting on the air back to me.

  “Oh, come on, Brecken. I was just playing.”

  “No. You're trying to make me look stupid, like I really do need medication, and I don't like it.” He stares hard in my direction.

  I stick out my chin. “Fine. Be a baby. Whatever.”

  Brecken's eyes squint and he walks away.

  I follow. “Geez. I just wanted to have some fun. I miss my brothers. That's all. I didn't mean to make you mad.”

  He stops abruptly and turns. “You have brothers?”

  “Uh, yeah.”

  “Really?” He crosses his arms over his chest. “What are their names?”

  Does he not believe me? Does he think I'm lying? Why does he even care? These aren't questions a charge is supposed to ask their guardian. Charges aren't even supposed to see their guardian! This whole thing isn't right. “Tyler and Derek,” I say, finally.

  “Uh huh. Older or younger?”

  With a sigh, I say, “Ty is twelve and Derek is eighteen. There. Happy?”

  He smiles and continues up the trail. “For the moment.”

  “So, there are three kids in your family?” I ask, wanting to learn as much about him as I can. Siblings seem like a safe place to start since he asked about mine.

  “Yep.”

  “And your mom died?”

  I'm rewarded with a nod.

  “I'm really sorry, Breck. My mom almost died the other day too. If I hadn't been there to—”

  “What? When? Before you died or since you've been here with me?”

  “Uh, since I came to be with you,” I answer honestly.

  “Wow,” he says. “I never thought about you people having families. Weird.”

  “Well, I did have a life before you, you know. We don't just sit up there on pink clouds playing harps.”

  A wry smile slides onto his face. “Good thing. All us mortals would go deaf.”

  “Hey!” I say, laughing. “I took piano lessons my whole life. I rock on the piano.” I fold my arms across my chest, daring him to argue.

  “I'd like to see that,” he says softly. “Really.”

  The mood changes so quickly that I'm at a loss for words, but I want to share my latest dramas with someone. “Oh, Brecken. It was so cool seeing my family again. I miss them so much, but they're really screwed up, and I think it's my fault.” I shouldn't share these things, and there's nothing he can do to help anyway, but I'm so lonely for a friend who might understand.

  We stop under a gnarled tree and sit on a bench at the gorilla's encampment.

  “I can see you,” he says, in wonder reaching out to touch me. “Tell me about your death, Alisa. Please. I want to know.” It's the pleading in his voice gets me. But does he want to know about my death, or death in general? I figure it's death in general. Because of his mom.

  Facing him, I study his features for sincerity, and place my hand on his. His concern washes over me. I've never felt these emotions from anyone besides my family and Natty. How wonderful to feel it from him too.

  “Well... I guess the only way to say it, is to say it right out.” I take a deep breath and jump, figuratively speaking. “I killed myself.”

  “You... killed yourself?” He leans away in surprise. “Why would you do that?” He frowns, his expression going from astonishment, to horror, to anger. “So many people with horrible diseases are fighting to live. How could you do that to your family?” His expression turns from anger to disgust. Shock zings through me, and I can't think of a thing to say. This is not the reaction I anticipated.

  “I thought you'd died of cancer or something.” He stands up and paces in a circle. “I can't believe it.”

  “My best friend died of cancer a few months before me. My Grandmother, who I was super close to, died before that. I couldn’t deal with it. Yo
u don't know.” I plead for him to understand, my arms outstretched.

  “That's just... selfish.”

  He stares at me in astonishment, and I stare back, unable to move. The rejection burns like hot wax, slowly melting my confidence. Any feelings Brecken and I have developed up to this point are gone, and what I get from him now is contempt. I have no words for how much it hurts.

  “I can't have a guardian angel who committed suicide,” he whispers angrily. “I'm barely making it as it is! What help could you possibly be? You couldn’t even handle your own life.”

  He's right. I don't know anything. I hadn't known how to live myself. I'd copped out. Given up. I'm a failure, and now I'm supposed to show Brecken the way?

  “I... I'm sorry,” I murmur.

  He jerks away and storms down the path without looking back.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  ~Running Away~

  Alisa

  I don't go home. I can’t. No one is there anyway. I'm not sure where my brothers are, but I don't feel like looking for them. Instead, I picture Gram—her blue eyes, her white hair, her loving face. But instead of appearing at her side, I appear in Idir Shaol. Back to the place I most want to leave.

  I hurry to my cottage, wondering if they've given my bed away. As soon as I see my familiar blue and white quilt, relief floods through me. I fall onto the bedspread, hiding my face in its downy softness.

  It isn't long before I feel a warm hand on my back.

  “Alisa?”

  I'm so embarrassed to be caught blubbering once again. “Shana?” Her soft expression and loving concern do me in and emotion gets the better of me. I start to cry.

  She puts her arms around me and pulls me close. “What happened?”

 

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