Dead Girl Walking (18 page)

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Authors: Linda Joy Singleton

Tags: #youth, #teen, #fiction

BOOK: Dead Girl Walking
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Shock cast a numbing effect over me. I was hardly aware of Eli leading me downstairs to the main lobby. He sat me in a chair and said something about getting me water. I nodded, dazed and not caring.

It’s all over for Amber Borden.

Over and over I heard these words.

An echo of finality; an epitaph of my life.

So lost in my misery, I didn’t notice Security Guard Karl until he grabbed me. His fingers pressed hard, making me dizzy. I wanted to scream, but his touch drained my energy so I couldn’t struggle or say anything. It was as if my energy was blood, and he was a vampire sucking my life away. But then he suddenly stopped at the sound of footsteps, and from a dim place far away I heard him call, “Here she is! I found Leah Montgomery!”

I looked up to see who he was talking to—and groaned.

Mr. Montgomery’s hired police.

Caught again.

I said nothing on the drive back, sinking deep into depression. I’d failed at everything. I was a soul without a home; and the only identity left to claim was the one I’d inadvertently stolen. And to make things worse, I’d been grabbed before Eli returned with my glass of water. He probably thought I’d ditched him.

When I was escorted into the Montgomery house, Leah’s father was waiting, rabid with threats. Blah, blah, blah. I tuned him out and didn’t comprehend a word he said. All I could hear was the doctor announcing my death.

Angie smirked, a triumphant gleam in her black eyes, as she locked me back in my room. She pulled an envelope from her pocket and handed it to me. “Don’t forget your love letter,” she said in a snippy tone.

I stared blankly at the red envelope. From Chad, I remembered, but he seemed like someone from a distant past. Someone else’s lifetime—not mine.

Then I tossed the letter in the garbage.

When Angie left after sealing me inside my luxurious tomb, I crawled under the silk covers and thought of my parents. Poor Mom and Dad. Grieving by my bedside, holding a lifeless hand, making funeral plans. Dustin and Alyce would be sad, too. And I thought of my body, far from perfect, yet more precious than I’d ever known, and doctors slicing it open on a treasure hunt for life-giving organs … until there was nothing left of Amber Borden.

Tears fell, and sobs racked my body. I didn’t want to be here, trapped in this cage of skin. Now it was too late to save everything that mattered. Too late. No hope … no hope … Never again. Huddling under the covers while despair sucked me into a black void of nothingness, I let go what was left of my identity … releasing … escaping …

Time must have passed although I had no concept of it, only an awareness of noise. A door knob rattling, and footsteps. I could tell it was Angie by the thudding steps and the smell of food. I stayed huddled under the covers.

“Get up and eat,” Angie ordered.

I shut out everything, hiding my face in the pillow.

“I set your dinner on the dresser.” She sounded bored.

I said nothing.

“You should eat soon or the food will get cold.”

Food was something to enjoy, to share with friends, a joyous noisy affair at the Borden household. My stomach ached with an emptiness impossible to fill. I burrowed deeper under the covers.

Angie snorted. “Starve, for all I care.”

The door slammed. The lock clicked.

I ignored the tray, hating food because Amber loved it so much. I stared at the ceiling, imagining the faces of the people I loved in the swirls of paint. There seemed to be no end of my tears. Sleep was the only escape, so I drifted off somewhere so far away that no one could find me.

I was snatched from that peaceful place when Angie returned later.

“Get up so I can take you to the exercise room,” she ordered.

I feigned sleep, ignoring her like a lump of nothing.

“You know the routine. Your father insists that you exercise.” She tugged on my limp arm. “Get up this minute and come with me.”

I sagged, limp and resistant.

“Leah Montgomery, get your lazy ass out of bed!”

Her fingers dug into my skin, and while I was aware of the pressure, I felt nothing.

Angie couldn’t physically force me, so after shouting threats that were no more than a faint buzz in my ears, she left. I was aware of her fading footsteps and the door’s sharp slam, but I didn’t care. Not about anything or anyone, including me. What was the point anymore? I was gone, didn’t exist, and was only alive by default. My real family was mourning me … so I was in mourning, too.

Through rivers of tears, I saw everything I’d lost. My parents, sisters, Dustin, Alyce … I should have told them all how much they meant to me when I had the chance. Instead of thanking my parents for the million things they did for me, I’d griped about not having nice enough clothes and complained about babysitting the triplets. I shouldn’t have lost my temper whenever Cherry, Melonee, or Olive tore up my homework or played with their dirty diapers. I should have just hugged and kissed them. And I should have supported Dustin more in his campaigns and helped Alyce out whenever she went to photograph gravestones.

All that mattered were the people I loved.

Now they were lost to me.

Maybe forever.

Time must have passed, because the next time I awoke there was no light outside my window. Only darkness, mirroring what I felt inside. Memory and sadness came crashing back, and I started to sink back into an oblivious sleep. Except there was a noise, and a crack of light at the door.

“Leah, honey,” a voice called out softly.

I peeked out from my covers to find Leah’s mother entering my posh prison.

“Are you awake, Leah?”

Dumb question. I didn’t answer. I wasn’t Leah.

Mrs. Montgomery flipped on the overhead light, startling me with its aching brightness. I groaned and covered my eyes. Through my fingers, I watched her pull up a chair beside my bed and plop a large bag from Nordstrom on her lap. “Honey, I brought you a gift. Wait till you see it.”

I turned over and pressed my face against the pillow.
I don’t want to talk to anyone
, I thought.
I want my real mother, not a fake one. Just leave me alone.

“Come on, baby girl. You’ll love this.”

The real Leah might have been tempted by the bribe of an expensive gift. But Amber-Leah didn’t care.

“Please, Leah?” she persisted. “You’re going to go wild when you see my gift. Open the bag and try them on. They’re the suede laced-ankle heels you admired. They’ll look gorgeous on you.”

Her voice droned on with the importance of a fly’s buzz. I was aware that she was talking, but couldn’t fathom the words. Why was Leah’s mother offering me a gift? She didn’t even know me. I didn’t belong here. I thought of my real mother, as I’d seen her with Dad at the hospital, who was probably choosing caskets and contacting relatives.

I pulled the covers over me, inviting darkness.

A hand touched my face, forcing me into the light. “Don’t cry, baby,” Mrs. Montgomery soothed. “I’m here for you.”

Shutting my eyes tight, shunning the light—and Leah’s mother.

“Everyone is worried about you.” She kept a firm hold on me so that I couldn’t hide. “Your friends care about you, too. You’ve received many get-well cards and flowers. Jessica, Kat, Moniqua, Tristan, Chad and even Chad’s brother have been calling for you. They all want to see you, but your father is too angry. Why do you set him off, Leah? That only makes things worse. He’s furious that you disobeyed him. Why did you go back to that hospital?”

There was silence as she waited for the reply I refused to give.
Just leave me alone!
I wanted to shout. I tried to jerk away from her, but she kept a firm hold on me.

“It’s all right if you don’t talk,” she continued in a patiently weary tone. “I’ll do the talking and you can listen. I went to my second meeting. You’d be proud at how I spoke up. We don’t use last names there, so I just introduced myself by my first name and admitted that drinking is a problem. I thought it would be so hard to say those words, yet I did it. And you know why? For you. So I can be strong enough to help you.”

She paused, as if waiting for me to reply.

“I can’t help you if you won’t talk to me. Please, say something.”

“Go away!” Flinging her off, I pressed my face against the pillow.

Then I slipped away into the silky darkness under the blankets, not knowing or caring when the room stilled with silence. I escaped into the sweet oblivion where no one could call me Leah.

I dreamed of my little sisters.

Cherry, Melonee, and Olive were playing hide and seek. They ran through the house, hiding from me. I looked under beds, behind furniture, and inside cabinets. I could hear them giggling, but I couldn’t find them. I shouted their names, panicking. I tore apart cushions and ripped into walls. If I could find them, everything would be okay …

Fear gripped me so tight that I woke up. Breathing fast, clutching a blanket to my chest, I gazed into murky darkness, startled to be in a stranger’s room.

Until I remembered.

Leah. Not Amber.

Hugging the tear-damp pillow, I rocked back and forth, too exhausted to even cry. I heard a rumbling and winced at the cramping in my stomach. Hunger pangs. Outside it was dark night. A glance at an illuminated clock showed it was not quite three in the morning.

My stomach growled louder, demanding food. But I preferred to sleep and dream about my family. The concept of eating repulsed me. Yet the gnawing hunger was too severe to ignore. So I flipped on a bedside lamp and half-rolled, half-stumbled out of bed. Pushing back tangled blonde hair, I checked the room for a food tray. But there was nothing. Angie must have removed it when I was sleeping.

I prowled the room like a wild animal foraging for food, digging in drawers, the closet, and even under the bed. The only interesting thing I found was a journal with just a few pages of writing. I put it aside to read later—after I found something to eat. If this had been my room, I would have found my hidden stash of candy, granola bars, and red licorice. But Leah didn’t even have a stick of gum.

Frustrated, I stomped my feet and kicked at the door.

The door flew open. Unlocked?

Stunned, I just stood there. Who had forgotten to shut and lock the door? Angie? Leah’s mother?

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