The Heart's Ashes
Page 43
Chapter 7
The sides of my tongue swelled up, filling my mouth with saliva—the kind followed by bile—every time the face of that monster flashed in my mind. I folded over, clutching my hands to my stomach, holding the contents of my gut inside as I reached the gate and swung it open.
The house looked so dark, so empty, despite the front light being on. I prayed silently for Mike to be awake, not wanting to walk in there if the house was void of his warmth.
A breath of hope filled my lungs as I pulled my keys from the lock, but dead silence greeted me, turning the breath into a small screech as I folded over again and cried into my hands.
Mike, why aren’t you awake? Why do you wait for me every other night but tonight?
My bedroom door sat open, the darkness inside reaching out onto the tiles, but all the same, seeming homely and comforting. I’m safe. I’m warm.
But I’m not okay. I need Mike. I just need to talk to him.
I placed my keys in the bowl on the phone stand and tiptoed through to the kitchen. More dark. More silence, which made my quiet sobs seem so loud, echoing off the tiled floors. I didn’t want to wake him if he was sleeping, and though I was upset, the last thing I wanted was for him to run out from his room, with that look of concern, and ask me why I was crying. I had to tell him. I had to finally tell him who did that to me, who attacked me. But if he asked me, I’d close up and not say anything.
I walked on my toes a little, covering my mouth, holding my nose to stop the sobs coming out as I passed Emily’s room and headed down the hall to Mike’s.
A wave of relief eased my soul when I saw the yellow glow coming from under his door.
Instead of bursting in and falling into his loving arms though, I hesitated, my fingers over the handle. Everything will change if I tell Mike this. He’ll be so mad at me for not telling him who attacked me, and he’ll be even more enraged that I met with Jason tonight. But if I don’t tell him now, I never will, and I’ll wear this grief for the rest of my days.
I leaned on the wall beside his door, my head rolled back, eyes tightly closed, still feeling the creep of skin for the possibility that Jason could be anywhere—could be lingering outside my window when I sleep. He’s the entity of my nightmares; the reason I check under my bed, close my closet door before I go to sleep, double check the backseat in my car before I hop in—but, now, he’s the guy who saved me. What do I do with that?
And worse, he says he’s sorry.
How dare he. And how dare I sit and listen to that.
With a nod of certainty, I gripped the handle. I’m telling Mike. We can be angry at Jason together.
“Mike...” I pushed the door open. “I need to tell you som—oh my God!” I slammed it shut, covering my face. “Oh my God! Oh my God!” My hands shook against my lips, muffling the screech that came out with tears. I looked up to the wall, the roof, the doorway, not sure where to go or what to do or how to feel.
But the emotion I couldn’t recognise forced me to fold over slightly, feeling my muscles singe in slow motion, tightening all over with a nauseating twist in my gut. It can’t be true. It just can’t.
“Ara!” Mike’s door swung open, and like a deer reacting to a hunter, I ran, grabbed my keys, fled past my room, past the porch and to the gate—shutting it behind me as Mike reached the front step, still buttoning his jeans. It took him the same amount of time to get the gate open and reach for my door handle as it took me to hop in my car and slam the lock into place.
“Ara!” He banged my window. “Ara, wait.”
Tears streamed over my cheeks; each one an image I wish I hadn’t seen. One for Emily’s naked, golden skin; her legs wrapped tightly around my best friend. Another for his strong hands—the hands which hold me safely—clutched around her hips and tangled in her soft, blonde hair. And the rest for the death of everything I thought we were—everything I’ve never had a right to think.
“Baby, please?” His voice broke with panic. “Come back inside.”
I fumbled with my car keys, my hands shaking, determined to get away. He tugged at my door handle, his pleas muffled beyond the glass. “Ara, let me talk to you.”
I shook my head, swallowing the hot, swelling golf ball in my throat.
“Ara!”
I shoved the car into gear, forcing Mike to either release his hold or be dragged under the tyres as I squealed away, down the street, without looking back.
The world should be all right with the rhythmic squeak of my wipers, pushing waterfalls upward on my windscreen, but the truth, like the ache in my heart, was revealed in the blackness behind the rain. It was stupid to drive off in the middle of the night, especially in wet weather. I could see myself being like one of those girls in a TV series, who rolls her car when she swerves to miss a cat or...or a stranger in the middle of the road.
The wipers seemed very loud then inside my music-less car, and the tin roof merely made the sound of the rain, when mixed with the whir of the road beneath my wheels, amplify the tension I brought with me. I swiped hot pools of tears from my cheeks, leaning forward to see the road clearer through the blur. It didn’t help.
Outside, the night surrounded my little old car, closing me in with a pitch so black I hardly recognised anything. I was sure I’d circled the same street several times, because every sign said “Rose Place.” Then, flicking my headlights on after a while helped, given that I couldn’t see past my front bonnet.
Stupid thing number three; driving with no headlights—in the middle of the night, while it’s raining.
I had no idea where I was going—had nowhere to go, really, so I just turned the wheel when a corner came, following the invisible line of fate to wherever I was meant to end up; in the ocean would suit me just fine.
Inside, a jagged blossom of regret and hatred unfurled, almost releasing the pain in one rush, like the drop from the top of a roller-coaster. Each sob came as a heave of emotion, my mouth agape. I felt pathetic, so glad I’d managed to find a road with no streetlights.
But feeling pathetic once again reminded me so vividly of the night Jason took me—how he humiliated me and forced anger so deep within my soul I merely felt even more powerless. All the things that came to be tonight—Jason, Mike, Eric and our possible...union—circled around me, flaring up memories I had no way to escape—couldn’t drive far enough to get away from.
The sides of my tongue swelled up, filling my mouth with saliva—the kind followed by bile—every time the face of that monster flashed in my mind. I folded over, clutching my hands to my stomach, holding the contents of my gut inside as I reached the gate and swung it open.
The house looked so dark, so empty, despite the front light being on. I prayed silently for Mike to be awake, not wanting to walk in there if the house was void of his warmth.
A breath of hope filled my lungs as I pulled my keys from the lock, but dead silence greeted me, turning the breath into a small screech as I folded over again and cried into my hands.
Mike, why aren’t you awake? Why do you wait for me every other night but tonight?
My bedroom door sat open, the darkness inside reaching out onto the tiles, but all the same, seeming homely and comforting. I’m safe. I’m warm.
But I’m not okay. I need Mike. I just need to talk to him.
I placed my keys in the bowl on the phone stand and tiptoed through to the kitchen. More dark. More silence, which made my quiet sobs seem so loud, echoing off the tiled floors. I didn’t want to wake him if he was sleeping, and though I was upset, the last thing I wanted was for him to run out from his room, with that look of concern, and ask me why I was crying. I had to tell him. I had to finally tell him who did that to me, who attacked me. But if he asked me, I’d close up and not say anything.
I walked on my toes a little, covering my mouth, holding my nose to stop the sobs coming out as I passed Emily’s room and headed down the hall to Mike’s.
A wave of relief eased my soul when I saw the yellow glow coming from under his door.
Instead of bursting in and falling into his loving arms though, I hesitated, my fingers over the handle. Everything will change if I tell Mike this. He’ll be so mad at me for not telling him who attacked me, and he’ll be even more enraged that I met with Jason tonight. But if I don’t tell him now, I never will, and I’ll wear this grief for the rest of my days.
I leaned on the wall beside his door, my head rolled back, eyes tightly closed, still feeling the creep of skin for the possibility that Jason could be anywhere—could be lingering outside my window when I sleep. He’s the entity of my nightmares; the reason I check under my bed, close my closet door before I go to sleep, double check the backseat in my car before I hop in—but, now, he’s the guy who saved me. What do I do with that?
And worse, he says he’s sorry.
How dare he. And how dare I sit and listen to that.
With a nod of certainty, I gripped the handle. I’m telling Mike. We can be angry at Jason together.
“Mike...” I pushed the door open. “I need to tell you som—oh my God!” I slammed it shut, covering my face. “Oh my God! Oh my God!” My hands shook against my lips, muffling the screech that came out with tears. I looked up to the wall, the roof, the doorway, not sure where to go or what to do or how to feel.
But the emotion I couldn’t recognise forced me to fold over slightly, feeling my muscles singe in slow motion, tightening all over with a nauseating twist in my gut. It can’t be true. It just can’t.
“Ara!” Mike’s door swung open, and like a deer reacting to a hunter, I ran, grabbed my keys, fled past my room, past the porch and to the gate—shutting it behind me as Mike reached the front step, still buttoning his jeans. It took him the same amount of time to get the gate open and reach for my door handle as it took me to hop in my car and slam the lock into place.
“Ara!” He banged my window. “Ara, wait.”
Tears streamed over my cheeks; each one an image I wish I hadn’t seen. One for Emily’s naked, golden skin; her legs wrapped tightly around my best friend. Another for his strong hands—the hands which hold me safely—clutched around her hips and tangled in her soft, blonde hair. And the rest for the death of everything I thought we were—everything I’ve never had a right to think.
“Baby, please?” His voice broke with panic. “Come back inside.”
I fumbled with my car keys, my hands shaking, determined to get away. He tugged at my door handle, his pleas muffled beyond the glass. “Ara, let me talk to you.”
I shook my head, swallowing the hot, swelling golf ball in my throat.
“Ara!”
I shoved the car into gear, forcing Mike to either release his hold or be dragged under the tyres as I squealed away, down the street, without looking back.
The world should be all right with the rhythmic squeak of my wipers, pushing waterfalls upward on my windscreen, but the truth, like the ache in my heart, was revealed in the blackness behind the rain. It was stupid to drive off in the middle of the night, especially in wet weather. I could see myself being like one of those girls in a TV series, who rolls her car when she swerves to miss a cat or...or a stranger in the middle of the road.
The wipers seemed very loud then inside my music-less car, and the tin roof merely made the sound of the rain, when mixed with the whir of the road beneath my wheels, amplify the tension I brought with me. I swiped hot pools of tears from my cheeks, leaning forward to see the road clearer through the blur. It didn’t help.
Outside, the night surrounded my little old car, closing me in with a pitch so black I hardly recognised anything. I was sure I’d circled the same street several times, because every sign said “Rose Place.” Then, flicking my headlights on after a while helped, given that I couldn’t see past my front bonnet.
Stupid thing number three; driving with no headlights—in the middle of the night, while it’s raining.
I had no idea where I was going—had nowhere to go, really, so I just turned the wheel when a corner came, following the invisible line of fate to wherever I was meant to end up; in the ocean would suit me just fine.
Inside, a jagged blossom of regret and hatred unfurled, almost releasing the pain in one rush, like the drop from the top of a roller-coaster. Each sob came as a heave of emotion, my mouth agape. I felt pathetic, so glad I’d managed to find a road with no streetlights.
But feeling pathetic once again reminded me so vividly of the night Jason took me—how he humiliated me and forced anger so deep within my soul I merely felt even more powerless. All the things that came to be tonight—Jason, Mike, Eric and our possible...union—circled around me, flaring up memories I had no way to escape—couldn’t drive far enough to get away from.
