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Authors: Tara Brown

BOOK: The Lonely
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His
mouth is on my thigh. I feel his tongue licking where his lips have kissed. I
gasp. It's not in horror. It's in shock. He chuckles and I feel sick again.

He
is gone and the air is all there is between my legs, I don’t feel his clothing
pressing against my naked skin or his warmth. I don’t feel his weight on the
bed at all.

"Are
you ashamed of yourself?" His whispers.

I
shake my head but it’s a lie. I am desperately ashamed.

"What's
the worst thing that can happen right now?"

My
eyes are squeezed shut. I don’t want to answer him. I know the answer but I
can't say it.

"What's
the worst thing?"

"You
rape m-m-me." I mutter into the darkness.

"You
asked me to do it. Doesn’t that change things? You said you wanted me." He
says it softly.

I
feel my lips curl into a sneer. I did. I asked him to. I offered myself up.

The
air is cold somehow, even with the heat. I shiver. He places something on me. I
feel with my fingers. It's the other side of the blanket. He's wrapped me up.

I
hear his silent footsteps and the door. I am alone. I curl into a ball and grip
the covers. The tears start. I pull away the blindfold.
He is there beside me, sitting in a chair beside the bed. His face is sad. I
stop crying. I didn’t hear him come back in. Maybe he never left. Maybe I'm
hearing things.

"Why
are you crying?" He asks. I shake my head. "You don’t know do
you?"

I
shake my head again. He leans forward, "I would never have hurt you like
that, but if I had, it wouldn’t have been the end of you. I need you to see
that. You've survived everything else. So much more than any human can fathom.
You think one act can destroy all the strength you have?"

I
shudder from the tears and the heaving sobs. I shake my head.

His
blue eyes burn suddenly. He climbs onto the bed and wraps himself around me.
The warmth is a comfort.

He's
insane but I think I am too.

 

 

 

 

Chapter Twelve

 

 

 

 

 

I
wake up in the cell. He's moved me somehow and I didn’t notice.

"Stuart."
I whisper.

He
doesn’t answer me. I crawl along the floor, slightly disoriented. When I reach the
hole in the wall my arm bumps against something.

It
scratches on the floor and scares me. I jump back. I reach out slowly,
terrified of what it is.

It's
flat. When I get a grip on it I sigh.

It's
my cell phone. I push the button to turn the power on. It shows the apple and
makes a dim light in the cell.

I'm
more scared with the light there, it makes shadows. I see my white robe in the
light. I never even noticed it was there. My comfort in my skin is different
than before.

I
turn the phone when it comes on and shine the light in the hole to the room
next to me. There is a bed and a toilet. His cell is much nicer than mine. I'm
not angry, I'm grateful he has those things. He isn’t in the room.

I
scuttle back to my corner and tuck my feet under me. My phone starts to vibrate
like mad. Seventy-five messages. My eyes widen.

I
start reading Shell's.

'Em,
I'm so sorry. I shouldn’t have said and done that. I'm so glad I came with you.
Please don’t be mad.'

'Dude,
I said sorry. What do you want blood'

'Em
why aren’t these delivering?"

'Did
you for-reals turn the phone off?'

'I
saw Sebastian today. It's been like a week since I got home and you aren’t
texting me. I told him your number. I don’t even care if Uncle Daddy gets mad.
Sebastian is a mess, dude. Destroyed. He is so upset. He flew all the way here
to find you. From Maine dude.'

'I
CAN'T BELIEVE YOU'RE BEING SO SEFLISH AND PETTY AND IGNORING ME! DO YOU HAVE
ANY IDEA HOW HARD IT IS TO TEXT AND HOLD THE CAPSLOCK?'

'Emmmmmmmmmmm
don’t hate me'

'I
miss you.'

'Now
you're making me scared. This is fucking bitchy dude'

'Oh
and Merry Christmas Asshole!'

 
I lower the phone. My heart burns and
hurts. I start to cry. I'm so alone and desperate and I've been kidding myself.
Who did I honestly think would believe I was fine? Why the hell did I ever
leave that church? I could be training to be a sister with Beth.

I
look around the dark and feel more lost than before. I start to feel rage
burning inside of me.

I
tilt my head up and shout, "I want out." I scream. "I WANT OUT
YOU ASSHOLE. ELI, YOU SICK MOTHER FUCKER I WANT OUT!" I sob and lean into
the wall. I almost throw the phone but I stop myself.

No
one comes. My tears dry and I start reading the texts again.

'Emalyn,
you are being so mean. I'm scared. Please just text and tell me you're okay.'

The
next message is from me,
'She doesn’t have this phone now. Please stop
texting'

'YOU
SICK SON OF A BITCH IF YOU HAVE DONE ANYTHING TO HER I'LL KILL YOU WITH MY BARE
HANDS!'

'I'll
let her know you messaged her.'

"FUCK
YOU!"

I
snort.

I
go back to the menu and find Sebastian's. I assume they're his. They have only
a number and no name.

'Em?
Is this you?'

'Sorry
but I found Michelle yesterday in Clovis. I got your number. I hope you're okay
with this.'

'I
just wanted to say sorry. I never should have left. I've tried coming by the
dorm but you're never there. The guy at the gym said he hasn’t seen you and
Michelle said she hasn’t heard from you. I'm getting worried.'

'You're
that angry? Michelle is getting scared. She phoned the police yesterday. You're
officially a missing person. My heart is broken I think. I have so many things
I need to tell you.'

'You've
been missing for two weeks. I'm coming for you. I will find you.'

'She
doesn’t have this phone anymore. Please stop texting.'

'Who
is this? Where is she?'

'I
will let her know you messaged her.'

'Where
is she? If you have her or hurt her I will kill you.'

I
don’t want to read the hopelessness in their messages. I look around the dark
and start to plot. I guess it's another thing about the dark. It's perfect for
plotting.

When
I realize my plotting is petty and entirely based on superheroes and the
desperate hope Sebastian is one, I sigh, and give up. I open my conversation
with Eli. I can see the little writing thingy. He is messaging me as I look at
it.

He
is watching me. It's 1984 in so many ways.

'How
are things?'

I
shake my head,
'I hate you. How could you do this to Stuart and me? Why did
you do this?'

'I
need you to hurt and cry. I need those things from you.'

The
answer is as messed up as everything else that’s happened is. I shake my head,
'You're
sick. I'll never cry for you again.'

'Don't
make promises you can't keep.'

I
dial nine-one-one but the service is cut. The texts are working because of the
wifi. I feel like an idiot. All this time he was there for me and helping me,
but it was all to what end? This? Alone in a cell, flogged, beaten, humiliated?
I don’t understand.

I
crawl to where the hole is and lie on my side. I reach my hand through the hole
and pretend I can feel the warmth of Stuart's hand against mine. There is no
defense for the stupidity I am guilty of. The words of Sister Elizabeth bounce
around in my head. "
Nothing is ever free Emalyn. Nothing. At some point
you pay for everything."
I have
a horrid feeling I might be paying for things I can't remember.

I
fall asleep with my back to the open air of the room and my hand in the hole.
It's huge for me. I have nothing left to lose. No one can hurt me more than I
have already been.

My
sleep and dreams are restless and chaotic. I wake with my face against the
cement. I move my hand and have a small panic attack. It brings something with
it from a place I've sealed of in my mind.

The
hole.

I
have the strangest feeling like I'm in the hole. I move my hand like I'm
reaching for the sunshine. The cold cement and the darkness make me shiver. I
can feel the bugs crawling on me. I scramble up and begin brushing my body off.

I
hated falling asleep in the hole. My skin is crawling. My whimpers and cries fill
the darkness.

I
back up, scrambling and swiping at my robe. Pressing my back against the wall,
I take gulps of air. I feel the walls of the corner and feel better.

"I'm
not in the hole. I'm not in the hole." I shake my head. The hole had no
corners.

Whatever
is attached to the hole memory is fuzzy and bad. My brain shuts down. It
doesn't let me see further behind the curtain than that.

I
clutch my cell phone and press the power button.

The
apple sign and the light make me feel better. I'm exhausted and done. I open
our conversation and text.

'I
want to go home. I don’t want your money and help. I just want to be free.'

'Where
will you go?'
His response is fast.
Like he knew I would text him.

My
stomach hurts when I think about it,
'Women's shelter? Convent? Anywhere I
can to get away from you.'

'That's
hurtful considering I am the only person in the world you have.'

'I
would laugh. If I weren’t sitting in the dark smelling my own piss and feeling
disturbed and disgusted at the thought of what you'll do to me next.'
I look at it, read it over again and press send. My
stomach hurts being so sassy.

The
phone vibrates with a Facetime call. His call. I take a moment and answer it.

"Hi."
He's acting like we are friends again. The anxiety is killing me. His face is
bright and beautiful. It sickens me to be attracted to him. "Where will
you go without me?" He sounds different than before.

It's
Eli, but it's not the voice of my benefactor who has talked to me all this
time. I'm so confused. I'm scared that Uncle Daddy is hurt and Eli has him
captured as well.

I
can't stop staring at him, "I need to go. Please. I can't do this
anymore."

"Go
to the door and wait. I will come and get you. It's almost New Year's
Eve." He looks at me one last time and then the screen freezes.

I
put the phone down.

The
door opens.

I
see his hand.

I
stand on my shaky legs and walk to him. It's sick and wrong and I hate myself
for it, but I like the touch.

He
drags me down the hall. It's toward the bathroom. He opens the door. It's light
and bright and empty.

"Clean
up." I look at him, checking for the joke or the twist in the plot. He
steps back. I walk into the bathroom and close the door slowly. I watch his
face in the gap as I close it. I click the lock. It's the best I've felt in
ages.

I
climb into the huge shower and turn it on. I turn the water to hot and let it
scald my skin. There are things that try to flash into my mind in the shower,
but I push them back. Something about his face is there still, picking at me.

I
wash myself and shave everything and triple rinse. I was feeling like a wooly
mammoth. I climb out pruned and beat red.

I
pull on the clean robe that's folded on the counter and leave the bathroom. He
is standing in the hallway. I frown, "Were you there the entire time?"

He
nods, "I was."

I
scowl, "Scared I'd get away?"

He
laughs and shakes his head. I catch myself noticing his dimple. "No. I
stayed in case you were scared."

His
kindness puts me off. I want to hate him. No one has ever inflicted the kind of
pain he has on me. He tried to drown me. I need to remember that. I am dead
inside because of him.

He
holds his hand out. I take it. I don’t know why. He walks beside me, still
leading. He opens a door in a hallway I've never seen. I look around, "Is this
place like a whole floor of a building? It's weird with all the hallways."

His
eyes sparkle. He brings me to a room with a dark purple bed and regular
furniture. He turns and leaves. I'm confused.

The
bed is big and inviting. I climb up onto it and rest my head on the oversized
pillow. I'm so tired my eyes burn. They flutter and in the flashes of light I
see him again. I open my eyes. He crawls onto the bed with me and smiles,
"There is something important we need to talk about." He's being so
nice. It scares me. I'm prepared for his behavior when he's acting like an ass,
but his kindness is alarming.

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