25. Serena
TWENTY-FIVE
SERENA
“ I t can’t be real,” I whisper to myself, gripping the steering wheel and speeding back home. It doesn’t make sense. How can Jessica be dead? I was the one to end her life? She’s my best friend. The only person who was ever truly nice to me. I would know if she was no longer around.
But it is real. I saw that glimpse of a painful memory when I was at Aster’s. I was standing over her body, bloody and breathless. Then my dad, of all people, was helping me. I think.
After Aster revealed who he was, I was shocked. Scared. Then pissed. Yet… something inside me accepted it. The honking from the person behind me has me shaking my head, and pressing my foot on the accelerator. How long has the light been green? I’ve been obsessed with the Morbid Monet for so long, and to learn I was falling for the man himself, made it easier to accept. Who in their right mind would be okay with their boyfriend being a serial killer who intended to make you their victim? This isn’t Beauty and The Beast , I’m not fucking Belle with Stockholm syndrome. Granted… Aster never kidnapped me, he only tricked me into loving him.
Did he really though? Trick me? He said he may have been lying, but he never pretended. That has to count for something. Right? I roll the windows down, I cover my mouth, feeling the nausea climb up my throat. Taking a deep breath, I push it back down, letting the cool night breeze hit my face and whip my hair around.
I need answers. That’s why I snuck out. I need to drive to my dad’s. Calling him will get me nowhere. He can’t lie when I’m in his face.
My phone rings throughout the car, Aster's name lighting up the screen. Decline. I’m not ready to talk to him. Not until I have answers. I’ll send him a text when I get home so he isn’t worried. I switch on the radio and “Bad Feeling” by Jagwar Twin booms through the speakers. I turn it all the way up, drowning out the thoughts swarming in my head.
Rushing inside, I throw a bunch of clothes and my bathroom supplies in a bag. I have no idea how long I’ll be gone, so I would rather over pack then underpack. I zip up the bag, grabbing my phone charger before sending Aster a text, not even bothering to read the ones he already sent me. I’m on a mission, and no one, not even a sexy as literal sin serial killer, can distract me.
Serena
I’m okay, I’m going to get the answers I need. We will talk when I get back
The drive from Salem to New Hampshire only took me two hours, since I had to stop for gas.
The sun is starting to peek over the horizon. The blended colors of orange and red are helping calm my frazzled nerves. I’ve never been to dad’s new place, but he sent me his address to keep in my contacts. At first, I was pissed he assumed I’d want it, now I’m thankful he’s self-centered enough to believe I’d want to see him again. This is going to be a surprise visit. I don’t expect him, or his bride to be, to be up, but this is too important to wait.
I park behind one of the four vehicles in their driveway. What two people own that many vehicles? One for each person I understand, but four? That’s a little ridiculous, but hey, the rich will spend when they want. Anything to one up their neighbor.
I was never flashy with my parents' money, they had a lot of it, giving me everything I could ever dream of, but I was happy with the simple things in life. Just like my mom, she didn’t care about money either.
When I first started painting and got into my love for art, my mom bought me everything I needed to create. I wouldn’t accept their money though, that’s why my mom and I went to the flea market to sell my art. It gave me a sense of responsibility, confidence, being able to support myself. That’s why, after Mom died, I was grateful I already had money saved up to move and create a life for myself. It took me longer to leave because I was consumed by my grief, but I needed to escape when dad moved to New Hampshire right away after her death. I was happy I found a place in Salem, where I was born and raised, able to stay close to my mom despite her passing.
Salem always felt like home, everything about it. From the tourists who come around October to celebrate Halloween to the cold winter months huddled by a fireplace reading a book. I could never leave, this is my home.
I throw a hoodie on before I exit the car and walk up the long steps to stand in front of their door bracing myself.
This is it. I’m going to get the answers I need. I don’t know what happened, no matter how hard I try to remember, it just comes up blank. Like static when the tv goes out. A grating, buzzing noise. That’s all I’m getting.
I knock on the front door and wait a couple minutes with no answer. My foot taps, while my hands stay placed in the pocket of my hoodie, impatience running through me. They’re definitely still asleep , but I need them to wake up, I bang on the door, uncaring what their neighbors might think. I hear my dad running down the stairs shouting he’s coming in an angry tone.
He swings open the door, ready to tear my head off, when he freezes in the doorway “What the fu- Serena?” His face morphs from anger to shock. “What are you doing here? And why are you here so early? Is everything okay?”
I just stand there, silent. Staring at him. I know he wasn’t expecting to see me, especially since I’ve been ignoring him, but the urgency of the situation is more important than their sleep.
His hair disheveled, in a robe barely tied around his waist, with gray house slippers on, his eyes soften, and he places his hand on my shoulder. “Hey, Serena, what’s wrong?”
“What happened to Jessica?” I blurt out.
His eyes bulge and, before he can answer, a woman with red hair tied in a bun comes racing down the stairs, tying her robe. My nails dig into my palms to lessen the anger I feel at seeing her. “Honey what’s wrong? Who’s this?”
He looks back at her, then to me. ”It’s Serena.”
“Oh.” Her eyes widen, and she rushes down the stairs, motioning for me to come inside. “Come on in dear, it’s chilly outside.” She smacks my dad in the chest, rolling her eyes with a huff. “Why haven’t you invited her in? Poor thing looks like she’s freezing.”
He looks at his fiancé, and his eyes soften. “She wants to know what happened to Jesssica.”
Her brows crease. “Jessica?” she asks.
“ The Jessica,” he says.
I stand there, arms crossed over my chest, watching the two of them interact. They both know something, and whatever it is I am going to find out.
Her mouth thins into a line. “Oh. Why don’t you come inside Serena, and I’ll make us coffee.”
I look to my dad, my anger and desperation rising “I need answers.”
He steps to the side. “Come inside and we can talk.”
I nod my head and walk past both of them, stopping because I’ve never been here and I have no idea where the kitchen is. I don’t dare look behind me, I can already tell both their faces wear looks of pity, and I don’t need that.
“Follow me. I’ll show you where the kitchen is,” Dad’s fiancé says. I know he told me her name once, but I didn’t care to remember it.
Following her to the kitchen I sit at the table, and Dad sits on the other side of the it. His fiancé starts to make coffee for all of us.
“What happened to Jessica?” I ask again, impatience lacing my tone.
My dad cradles his head in his palm, looking down, stress radiating off him. “Give me a moment to wake up, Serena. Sharon is making us some coffee, I’ll answer your questions then.”
I bang my hand on the table, heat thrumming through my veins. “No! I didn’t drive all night to wait for you to have your coffee . I need answers. Now!” I yell, my body starting to shake.
“Serena…” Before he can finish, Sharon walks over, placing coffee in front of us and taking a seat next to my father. She grabs his hand, her thumb rubbing some of his stress away. He gives her a small smile, and she returns it. The motion has me remembering how he was like this with Mom, and seeing him like this with Sharon has my hands balling into fists.
He takes a sip, stalling. “What do you remember?”
What do I remember? That’s a stupid question. He knows I forgot. Wait… does he know that my memory is all messed up? My hands relax, and shoulders slump. Has he been lying to me?
I look at Sharon, my brow lifting in a silent question.
“It’s okay, she knows everything.”
Of course she does.
“All I remember is that…” I can’t even say it, if I do, I feel like it will be true. I’m not ready to accept that. I start to tap my fingers on my coffee mug, nervous energy surrounding me.
My dad grabs my hands, silence filling the kitchen. “Tell me what you remember, Serena. I can’t help you if you don’t.”
I take a deep breath, tears falling down my cheeks. I look at my fathers hand in Sharon’s, both squeezing the other for support. “I. killed. her,” I whisper.
I look up to meet my father’s eyes, finding no shock on his or Sharon's face, just relief. “So you finally remember?” my dad asks.
Now I’m the one shocked, the tears falling harder. “No! I don’t remember; that’s the problem. All I remember is standing over her body, covered in blood, and you. That’s it.” My breathing becomes erratic, my vision going blurry at the edges. “Please, Dad, tell me what happened.”
His eyes drop, his body seeming to collapse in on itself. “I can only tell you what happened afterwards, after I walked in. Only you know what happened. What caused it.”
My head tilts to the side. “You don’t know why I did it?” How can they not know the reason if they helped me after I killed her?
He shakes his head, his face paling. “No. I only helped you clean it up. After she was gone, it’s like your brain flipped a switch, just like with your mom.”
“With mom? What do you mean?
He takes a heavy breath, his eyes meeting mine without hesitation. “Serena, I never cheated on your mom.”
I scoff, pulling out of his grip and crossing my arms over my chest. “Yes, you did. I saw you with another woman when mom was dying.”
“Hunny, your mom was already dead.”
A sharp pain pierces the back of my head, the same pain I felt at Aster’s. Do I even want to remember? I cry even harder, between sobs I manage to choke out the word. “I. Killed. Mom?”
The words leave my lips, but I don’t believe them. Yet… my memories don’t lie. I don’t understand? Why would I kill my own mother? She was my best friend. “Dad, please tell me that isn’t true.”
He lets go of Sharons hands and takes my hands in his, “You didn’t kill her, Serena; you set her free.”
I look up at him, swiping my nose with the sleeve of my hoodie. “What?”
“Your mother was dying. She asked to see you alone, so I left the room, but I stayed by the door. I had a bad feeling.” I start to sniffle, shaking my head slowly. “I heard you and your mom talking, and she begged you to set her free. To let her go. You refused at first, but then she whispered something, I couldn’t hear what. It was silent, and the next thing I heard was your mom’s heart monitor go dead. I rushed in there, but it was too late. You were crying over her with the pillow covering her face.”
My breathing evens out as I try to come to grips with everything he is telling me. Mom begged me to kill her. And I did? The pain lessens, but my head throbs and my body feels weak. Why can’t I remember that? How is this like Jessica?
He starts to cry, but continues. “I was too late. You granted your mother’s last wish and became a shell of yourself. You wouldn’t speak. You stopped going to school. You even started avoiding that awful friend, Jessica.
“Awful?” I ask.
“Yes, awful . Truthfully, I wasn’t surprised you killed her for everything she put you through.” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “But a couple weeks went by, and I went to bring you food, and you weren’t there. I looked all over the house, and I heard your voice coming from the room your mother died in. I walked in, and you were having a conversation with yourself. I brushed it off as your way of dealing with your grief, but then you started to act like your mom was still alive. It was like you completely forgot she died.”
I bite my nails, not believing the words coming out of his mouth. Why would I imagine my mother still being alive after I killed her? Why did I do the same thing I did with Jessica? I wish I could remember what happened.
He looks at Sharon, and she grabs his hand, squeezing it. “I didn’t want to put you back into your depression, so I let you believe Mom was still alive. Then, after Jessica died...” He swallows, like it’s hard for him to continue. “You remembered Mom was gone, but forgot how she died. You hated me, claiming I was cheating on her, but before I could explain myself , you left. You said you were going to Jessica’s. I was confused, I had just disposed of her, but I realized it was your brain's way of dealing with what you did. And… and I couldn’t tell you. I wanted to, believe me I did, but I was so worried about what would happen. You already lost yourself with your mother; I knew I needed to wait for you to remember on your own.”
I look away, unable to come to terms with what he is saying. This is all too much, I’m crazy, I really am crazy. I didn’t kill just one person, I killed two and one was my own mother. I need to remember. I need to understand why I snapped. If I remember, I can only hope I don't forget something else.
None of it makes any sense, yesterday Jessica was still alive. Mine and Aster’s secrets were still our own. While I am happy we were able to let those secrets spill, the mask I didn’t even know I was wearing was slipping. The person who I truly am isn’t the person I was yesterday. I can never go back to who I was, nothing will ever be the same. I’m glad I have Aster, I know he will understand. After all, he’s a killer himself.
A killer, that’s what I am now.
Every person, all the people who always looked at me funny when I was with Jessica… it all makes sense now. The guys at the club both were hitting on me. She was never there . I take out my phone, to go to her contact and notice for the first time an app I don’t recognize. I open it up and see it’s a text chain between me and Jessica. I’ve been texting and answering myself this whole time.
“I need to lay down.” I get up from the table, and my dad wraps his arm around my side, I let him as he walks me to a spare room.
He shuts the door, and I hear him and Sharon whispering before walking back to their room.
I start reading through every text, analyzing every message. I think back on all the conversations I had with myself. Every single interaction was a lie, one I wished to be true. The reason for her canceling going to the flea market was because if she came, my brain knew I would find out the truth too soon. The reason she ignored my panic text, because my brain knew I was getting closer to remembering. Since meeting Aster little by little things started to fall into place, and him revealing his secret and bringing her up was all it took for the pieces to start to fall together.
I lay down, staring at the ceiling fan going around and around for what seems like hours.
“You know what you did.”
I spring up; it wasn’t a dream, it was a memory!
My head vibrates with pain, encompassing every nerve ending in my skull. I scream, but nothing echoes around the room. Everything goes black, I fall backwards.
I remember it all.