Chapter 4
HAZEL
MOST people would say it’s hard to tell time without a clock or a calendar.
Yeah, the sun rises and sets, indicating yet another day has passed.
But when you’re secluded with the curtains drawn, the sun becomes obsolete.
I am becoming an expert at telling time without those things to aid me.
It only takes a few days for aches and pains to begin diminishing, for swelling to start to go down, for light bruising to disappear.
The belt marks are new. Some have faded, while others look as if Phil has just inflicted them, the skin scabbed over where it had split open.
It’s been difficult finding comfort. Thankfully, the sides of my body were relatively untouched.
As I curl up on my side, the burning from those stripes almost makes me cringe. Almost.
The first couple of days, the apartment was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.
It set me on edge, making me think I heard things I wasn’t hearing.
Then it was as if they were coming back to life.
The TV was turned up to a normal volume, whispers became louder, and crying turned into laughter here and there.
I feel like a ghost haunting the place. When I do come out of my bedroom, the others stop doing whatever it is they are busy with and get quiet.
Their stares make it seem as if I’m the one out of place in my home, not them.
Cady checks in on me constantly. Her previous attempts at feeding me pain medicine ended with me yelling at her to leave me be.
I didn’t want to hurt her feelings, but she wasn’t listening to me.
She only wants to help, but I don’t want to take those fucking pills.
The pain and discomfort are a reminder that I lived.
I need that. My friends being here is a reminder, too, but the strength I gain from feeding on the pain is changing me. It’s making me stronger. I need to be.
Detective Thomas has dropped in with promises to return.
They haven’t seen Phil. It appears he’s fled town.
If he’s running, I don’t see the need to have a cop sitting outside on the curb.
The longer they stick around, the longer Cady, Erick, and Bobby will be up my ass.
I just want things to go back to the way they were before Phil ever entered my life, but that will never happen. My life will forever be stained by him.
One thing I will never understand is why. Why did he become a monster? Why did he do those horrendous things? Why did he choose me? Questions I fear will never be answered, while at the same time I hope to never know. If they are revealed, that means he’s come back to finish what he’s started.
Murderers don’t mind sharing their thoughts with their victims. Phil shared quite a bit with me as he unleashed his inner demons.
Most of it was fucking terrifying, incoherent mumbling.
Piecing together that gibberish is a nightmare all on its own.
When I try to understand, it just brings back memories of what he was doing when he said them.
Roger’s wife has brought us food every day.
I haven’t spoken to her, afraid that if she sees me, I’ll scare her.
She’s a mouse of a woman and very sweet.
I imagine my mother was very much like her based on the things my father told me.
My appetite has been absent, but I eat whenever Cady makes me a plate and asks me to.
Erick and Bobby make sure none of it goes to waste.
I bet those two eat hundreds of dollars’ worth of food a month each.
Bobby has been helpful the last few days.
He’s kept Cady occupied when she’s been all over me.
He and Erick brought me a used door for my bedroom yesterday and installed it.
His only condition was for me not to lock it.
I was thankful to have a door that latched all the way, and, for their sanity, I agreed.
Bobby has tried to make things seem normal.
I don’t know if it’s for his sake or mine, but being with him is easier than being with Cady and Erick.
Erick is shell shocked from this whole mess.
The pity he shows me makes my blood boil.
Maybe I feel more at ease with Bobby because he’s had a harder life than Erick.
He seems to know what to say, and what not to say, in my presence.
There have been several times he’s come into my room as I laid there and just sat next to the bed not saying a word.
It was as if he sensed I needed love and support in those moments and knew I was too weak to ask for it.
He silently gave it without bringing attention to the fact.
Most of the time he would just lay his head back against the mattress and close his eyes, propping his arms on his knees.
A few times he had taken my hand and held it on his shoulder as he sat there.
After I found out Cash had called and learned about my assault, I had a horrible panic attack.
Bobby came into my room as if nothing was wrong, even though we both knew not a damn thing was right in the world, and climbed into bed beside me.
He loosely curled himself around me and locked his fingers with mine.
I fell asleep clinging to Bobby, and when I awoke, he was gone.
He’s told me Cash has called several times since, and one time asked if I wanted to talk to him.
I shook my head and told him to tell Cash it would be best if he didn’t call anymore.
It’s the only time Bobby has let his emotions show, and they were conflicting.
I could see that Bobby questioned my decision, not thinking it was the wisest one.
But at the same time, I could see the relief on his face.
He wants to be the one I turn to, not Cash.
Now I understand what Cash meant when he told me he couldn’t give me what I was looking for.
It’s not that he didn’t want to work at having more with me.
He mentally and emotionally can’t give me what I need, especially after this.
Bobby growing closer to me at this time is setting him up for heartache.
He’s providing me with a warm, healing heart, but I’ve got nothing to return.
Eventually, his heart will turn cold when he realizes I won’t be able to give it back.
I have a feeling he’s giving me the last of the warmth that hasn’t been stolen from him over the years.
I don’t want to be the one to milk him dry of his compassion and break him.
There’s a light tapping on my door, and then Bobby strolls inside.
He takes his usual spot on the floor, and instead of leaning his head back and relaxing, he turns to me.
His gaze wanders over my face, which is something he never does.
Usually, he keeps his eyes glued to mine, as if my skin isn’t the home of extensive contusions that call to be paid attention to.
My gaze bounces with his knowing exactly what they see as they land on each feature.
“Erick and I have to go back to work tonight.” He lingers on the bridge of my nose where a dark rainbow arches over it.
There’s no pot of gold hidden at either end, I assure you.
“I told all of you to go back days ago.”
“You can’t really think that any of us were ready to jump back into our lives like nothing happened,” he says, a little exasperated.
“I don’t want you guys to be fired from your jobs because of me,” I reiterate. “The cops are still sitting outside. I’ll be safe while you are gone.” Bobby nods, silently agreeing. “Besides, it would be nice to leave my bedroom without everyone watching every damn move I make.”
“I bet.” He chuckles, and the corner of my mouth tugs into a slight smile. The action feels strange, and, for some reason, I feel guilty for it. As fast as it appears, it disappears, but not before Bobby catches it. “Ah.” He smiles. “There she is.”
He gets up to leave, but then stops at the door and glances back at me. “Do me a favor. Spend some time with Cady tonight.”
“Okay.”
Bobby raises a brow at me.
“I will.”
***
The next couple of nights consisted of Cady and I watching movies while Bobby and Erick went to work.
It was quiet at first, but eventually, Cady started pulling words from me.
I knew that in order for things to go back to normal, I had to act like things were normal.
Maybe if I forced myself to do the things I used to do, then it would be easier to slip back into my role.
It would help everyone around me feel at ease and get back to their day-to-day lives. Cady needed that more than anyone else.
To give her the reassurance I’d be okay, and to help her heal from the horror she had seen, I laid my head in her lap while we watched movies.
She stroked my hair, and we talked about meaningless stuff to keep my mind occupied.
It was actually kind of comforting, and I realized what started out as pretending was my new life.
This is who I am now. Well, for the time being anyway.
I was able to prove to Cady that I would be fine, and that she could go back to work as well.
She didn’t like the idea, but Roger is swamped and pulling more hours than I usually work.
The man is going to keel over and die if he keeps it up.
Having Cady back would lessen the workload, and she could get some actual hours while I’m out.
This got me wondering just how long I would be out of commission.