Chapter 9 The Past
THE PAST
AMELIA’S brEAKING POINT
Caiden was a dark force from which there was no escape. Deep crimson streaks stained my skin, a constant reminder of his presence, and the mere thought of him constricted my throat, my lungs sinking into an abyss of despair.
I could not evade the deadly disease of his torment.
Because of him, my relationship with my sister had crumbled into dust.
She suffocated alone beneath the judgmental stares and cold glares of the townsfolk. The thought of her, and the unborn child she carried, twisted my heart with an unbearable tightness.
Sleep eluded me; nightfall was a cycle of restless tossing and turning, plagued by visions of terror and haunting whispers. If it wasn’t for the war that raged between Caiden and me, he would never have felt compelled to breach the boundaries of intimacy with my sister.
The weight of it all pressed down on me like the force of a thousand stones. The blood of her ruined life stained my hands.
She was all I had left, and now I found myself slipping into a cloak of darkness.
What do you have when everyone slips away? That question lingered in my mind like an ominous crow, watching and waiting.
Sometimes, we were meant to be dead stars, left behind, belonging nowhere. The sky above me was perpetually webbed with empty shadows.
The school loomed like an odious shadow, its bricks a constant reminder of the drudgery I faced each day.
I lingered outside, staring morbidly at the building, wondering if this was all life had to offer me: a ceaseless cycle of fear and anxiety, running from pain, forever haunted by an unshakable sense of foreboding.
I spent hours refining the short story, reading over Caiden’s notes, determined to make it worthy of a decent grade.
Once inside the building, I searched for him, finally spotting him by the bathroom, drinking from the fountain.
“Caiden,” I called, approaching him. “I wanted to let you know that I finished the story.”
Despite the illusion of confidence that I tried to project, the tremor in my voice shattered the facade.
His head jerked up, surprise flickering across his face before it quickly morphed into disdain.
“Great,” he replied flatly.
My teeth clenched in frustration as I fell into step behind him. “Really? You’re not going to ask to see it? Or thank me for writing the whole thing? I could tell the teacher that you refused to collaborate. I could make sure you don’t get credit for it.”
While my voice trembled, a forcefulness supported my words. He had left me to do all the work, and now he intended to ignore my efforts?
“I wouldn’t stick around any longer to work on that dumb assignment with you. I’ve already given you my ideas. What more do you want?” Irritation dripped from his tone, lined with boredom, as if this conversation was the last thing he desired.
“I would like some respect. I’m still a human with feelings.”
“I don’t care,” he shot back, refusing to meet my gaze as he continued walking. I trailed behind him, a pathetic shadow, painfully aware of his desire to humiliate me, to exert control. That thought should have been enough to make me swallow my pride and walk away, but I couldn’t.
“You should care! I hope someone treats you with the same cruelty you show me. Maybe then you’ll learn some decency.” I felt like a broken record, constantly repeating myself, pleading for better treatment.
That was when Caiden stopped abruptly, turning to face me. My knees nearly buckled under the weight of his intensity. My pulse quickened, a frantic rhythm echoing in my ears.
His eyes were pools of darkness. “I already know what it’s like. Get the hell off my back, Amelia, before you push me to snap.”
I opened my mouth to respond, but my throat felt dry and constricted. Panic surged within me; I was unprepared for what might happen if he truly snapped.
The thought gnawed at my psyche, intruding even on my sleep. I stood frozen as he charged down the hallway, swallowed by the throng of students.
When English class rolled around, I turned in the short story, covering for Caiden by telling Mr. Bowman that we had collaborated.
He believed me.
Years of honing my skills in deception had prepared me for this moment. Energy drained from me; I didn’t want to fight anymore. I just wanted the day to end.
A deep yearning washed over me, a longing to escape to a peaceful place where sunlight glimmered and my heart swelled with joy.
Life was growing weary. Each day, I struggled to find anything to hold onto that would propel me forward.
Just make it to graduation. Freedom was so tantalizingly close.
By the time the school day ended and I reached home, my heart hammered so fiercely I thought it might break free.
I stumbled into my dimly lit room and let myself fall onto the rumpled mattress. The air felt thick, suffocating, like my grief had taken physical form and pressed me to the sheets.
I curled inward, craving to vanish beneath the threadbare quilt, to lose myself for hours.
The lure of my mother’s prescription pills glimmered temptingly, but I steeled myself, I wouldn’t sink that low.
Instead, I surrendered to blank, thoughtless oblivion.
When I finally surfaced, the world had shifted from afternoon light to the bruised purples of dusk. My eyes burned, my limbs ached, and an insistent growl rumbled in my gut.
Checking my phone, I noticed a missed call and a voicemail from Lillian. I opened it eagerly, remembering our last conversation when she’d confided that her roommate had left, leaving her alone in that apartment, struggling.
Silence hung for a few agonizing seconds, broken only by her soft breathing and the sound of muffled crying.
“Amelia,” her voice trembled through the receiver.
“I tried calling, but you didn’t answer, so I guess I’ll just tell you this over voicemail.
I—I don’t think I can do this anymore. I have nobody, and I can’t raise a child.
I just can’t. There’s nothing for me. I’m done trying.
I love you, Amelia. I’m sorry things turned out the way they did.
I didn’t mean any of it. I hope you find a way out of that shithole of a house, though I won’t be there to witness it. ”
Her words, choked with sobs, sent a chilling premonition of impending doom through me, like a physical weight settling on my chest.
“I tried so hard to be there for you, but my emotions got in the way. I could only focus on myself for so long. I’m so ashamed and regretful.”
A long pause followed, filled with sobs and hiccups. The impending dread coiled tighter around my heart.
“I’m sorry. I can’t make you understand. There’s nothing left in me to give or fight for. Goodbye.”
The line went dead. Panic surged through me, gripping my throat and twisting my gut into knots. I grabbed my keys and bolted toward the front door, leaving my mother sitting silently, her haunted eyes glazed over.
I sped to Lillian’s apartment, weaving through traffic and disregarding stoplights. I pleaded with the universe for her safety. My heart raced dangerously fast, pounding against my ribcage like a caged animal.
Tears blurred my vision; it couldn’t be. She couldn’t have given up. We needed each other.
When I finally arrived, I parked haphazardly, barely within the lines. The door swung open easily, and I rushed inside, desperate to find her before it was too late.
I burst into her bedroom, searching frantically for any sign of life. There she lay, a silhouette against the crumpled sheets, still and silent.
“No, please don’t let it be,” I whispered, racing to her side. My throat tightened, panic flooding my veins.
“Lillian! Wake up, come on, I’m here!” I shook her gently, watching her eyes for any flicker of awareness. Her skin felt cold to the touch, the warmth escaping her body like mist on a cold morning.
Tears streamed down my cheeks as I shook her again, urgently, but deep down, I knew.
She was gone for good.
A wave of dread crashed over me, consuming my entire being.
“Lillian, please, oh no, please open your eyes.” I could think of nothing else. I could not breathe. Everything became hazy, my vision a blur. Lillian lay there, and I lost hope.
My sister was dead on an ordinary weekday, and it was all my fault.
I sank to my knees, the rough ground scraping against my skin as I felt myself shatter into a million pieces.
My body shook with silent sobs, the sheets twisted in my grip; the scent of lavender, from the fabric softener, barely masking my despair as my face remained buried in them.
Chills coursed through my helpless body as despair enveloped me.
At last, an empty numbness descended. I lay beside my dead sister, the weight of grief crushing me, the passage of time meaningless.
It dawned on me that I needed to call 911. They arrived swiftly, laying her body in a black bag before zipping it shut.
I watched, shattered, as her face disappeared from view, realizing that I would never see her again.
That realization broke me further; I would never share another moment with her, never engage in our small, meaningless chats.
She would forever be reduced to a decaying pile of flesh and bones beneath the earth, forgotten by everyone.
Memories of her flooded back, leaving me breathless. I recalled her joyous laughter, her carefree smile. The lips that were now fading would never lift into a bright, beaming grin again. I remembered the days we played outside as children, sharing our secrets under the open sky.
The police spoke to me, their voices laced with sympathy. I heard words like “pills” and “quick,” but I wasn’t truly listening. I sat there, a blanket draped over my shoulders. Paralyzed.
My mind raced, then fell blank. Fury consumed my thoughts, directed at myself for abandoning her. It ignited a blazing path of blame toward my mother and Caiden, erupting like a volcano.
There were too many people to hold accountable, but deep down, I knew the fault lay with me. If only I had reached for the phone in time, if only I could have talked sense into her.
Regret clawed at me, a sickening sensation that scratched at my skin and pounded at my head. I shouldn’t have gone to sleep.
Instead of channeling my guilt and anger inward, I redirected it toward Caiden in that moment.
This had begun with him. I didn’t want to confront the pain and guilt gnawing at me, it was suffocating. Lillian must be avenged.
This was the last straw. My sanity had crumbled into shattered pieces. Emptiness consumed me, my vision clouded with a paralyzing rage. I had overflowed into a raging tidal wave, threatening to flood everyone and everything in my path.
The solitude of my grief morphed into a ferocious fog, wrapping around me like a disoriented fog.