Chapter Five
Alina
I sigh as I step out the back door and bend backward, trying to stretch my back. Another shift at the diner, another day of feet problems for less than desirable tips. But hey, money's money, I guess. I shiver in the surprisingly chill night as I look around the empty parking lot, the breeze cooler than usual for mid July. Sometimes, the night feels so peaceful as I walk behind the boardwalk and listen to the excitement and memories being made in the night. Other times, there's a certain feeling in the air that makes my skin crawl.
Goosebumps rise on my arms as I continue between buildings and down the alleyway. Usually, I would never walk this way, but it was busy, and I worked a double since Tessa had a hot date tonight. I’m tired, my body hurts, and I just want to fall face-first into my bed. The alley is the shortcut back home, so often enough, I try to seamlessly slip through it, avoiding the boardwalk crowds. I know it's not the safest, but it is the quickest, and it’s not like our sleepy little coastal town is a hotbed of crime. I come around a corner and collide right with a mushy body.
“Oomph.” I let out as I almost fall to the ground.
“Oh look, just the bitch I was waiting to see.” I know that voice. It's all too familiar, but this can't be. Why would Jackson be waiting for me in the alley?
“Just let me by, Jackson. I'm tired and ready to get home.” I try not to let my voice shake as I reply and move past him.
“Not so fast, Sis. I want what's in your pockets,” he says, looking around wildly. I notice something off about Jackson; it has been going on for a few weeks now. He’s been pushier than usual, showing up to the thrift shop more often to empty the register. If I'm not mistaken, he’s also been losing weight. What in the heck is going on?
I try looking for another way past him, but realize he’s caught me at the perfect angle. I was rounding a corner with only one exit, and when I stumbled upon him, he pushed me back into the corner. I thought he was maybe keeping me from falling, but he was trapping me even further. Who does that to their own flesh and blood? And for what reason?
“What are you talking about, Jackson?” I’m so confused, but I'm hoping someone might stumble upon us if I can keep him talking. I know it's wishful thinking, but it's the only plan I've got.
“Are you that fucking stupid? I said empty out your pockets! I need all the money you made tonight.”
“Wh-what? No! Jackson, I worked all day for these tips.” I'm completely blown away. He’s never hassled or even asked me for money before. It's always just readily available from our parents.
“Do I look like I give any sort of fucks?”
“What about the register? Can't you just ask Mom and Dad?”
“Don't you think I've tried that? The rents somehow found out I’ve been dabbling in some other, let's just say, recreational activities, and decided it was time to cut me off. No fucking warning, no sympathy, just cut cold turkey.” He’s almost yelling now, but I can tell by the silence of the night that no one is around to hear us. This isn't good. He looks a bit deranged.
“Jackson, I'm sure we can just talk to them…” I don't get to finish the sentence before I feel a blow to the side of my face. I’m so shocked I fall to the ground and whimper, holding my cheek. For as bad as Jackson has always been, he’s never actually physically hurt me or physically attacked me. I don't know what's happened, but this isn't good.
“You think I came here to talk, sister? I said give me all of your money. I'm done playing with you,” he seethes, spit flying out of his mouth. As I lay there watching my brother, ready for another attack, I swear something in me just snaps.
Barb’s conversation ignites in my mind. I'm so sick of being pushed around, of just dealing with the shit life has handed me. I'm tired of just taking it, hit after hit, insult after insult. I'm just so damn tired. A fire inside lights me, and I swear it's like all the anger I’ve locked away for all these years explodes out of every pore in my body, and I scream.
“NO! FUCK. YOU.”
Jackson flies toward me, but my anger takes over and I raise my hand, scratching my nails down his face. He screams, and I use that distraction to throw my fist out, hoping to make contact with any fragile part of him. I hear an oomph, and I realize this might be my only chance. Turning, I take off at a run out of the alley. I see the light at the end, the only street lamp on this block, and I have just enough time to think. I've almost made it. I'm going to make it out. Then I feel a fist wrap around my long hair, and I'm yanked back so quick my neck aches from the jolt.
“Oh, no you don't. Think I’d let you get away that easy? Let's see if you can take some of your own medicine.” I feel a punch to the gut, and my knees crumple until I'm kneeling on the ground. He takes that moment to backhand me again across the other cheek. I can feel the blood form on my lip from him busting it open. I try to dodge his next attack, but all I do is get kicked in the side so hard I stop breathing. I feel Jackson bend down and rifle through my apron before standing again.
“Should have just given me the money, sis. This could have been a lot less painful.” And with those parting words, he walks away, leaving me lying on the cold, dirty ground. My own brother.
Tears gather in my eyes as I painfully lift myself as gently as I can off the ground. I force my aching bones to comply, even though all I want to do is lay there and let the darkness take me. The only thing that keeps me moving is the thought of him coming back. I’ve never been this afraid in my life and never would have believed my own brother was capable of something this horrific.
I need to get out of here. The first thing I do is get out of the alleyway, vowing never to take the shortcuts again. No matter how tired I am, I will always walk the busy streets from here on out. I limp my way down a couple of streets as I'm jostled by the crowd around me. Tears are streaming down my face, but no one seems to notice or care. The ones who notice tell me to “watch it” or “get over it,” but I still keep pushing down the sidewalk.
I have no clue where I'm going. I need to get somewhere safe, but where is that? I can't go home. What if Jackson is back there? That thought makes me almost vomit all over the tourists around me. I can't go to my favorite bench next to the fountain. I gave away that secret to the sweet older couple. Not that they would be there this late, but it doesn't feel as safe as it once did. Out in the open like that.
There's one other spot I can think of going. I hid there as a little girl, listening to the rides above and the music playing. I haven't been to that secluded place in such a long time. I wonder if others have found the secret sanctuary. Turning, I follow the lights of the Ferris wheel, remembering the last time I was brave enough to walk through that fair with my head held high. Riley even chased after me. Me, Alina wallflower Cane. For a moment, I was high on life. Then reality set in.
I shake my head as I make it to the entrance to the fair. Looking around, I make sure no one is looking, and the ticket booth teller is focused on her phone. I tap a few of the boards that line the left side of the fence until I find the one I'm looking for. Just as I'm about to admit defeat, thinking someone must have fixed the board, I feel it catch. Well, at least one thing wants to go my way tonight. I pull the board back just enough to slip my body through before sliding it back into place.
The bright neon lights of the fair light my way as I make my way down the slightly overgrown trail that leads under the boardwalk. I haven't been down here in so long, but still, it's all so familiar.
I sit in the dry sand, but still close enough for the water to lap at my ankles. I do my best to clean up the blood from my cuts, but the salty water burns the cut on my lip and one across my cheek. How did my life come to this? What did I do to deserve all of this? I just don't understand.
I let the tears fall faster and freely down my cheeks as I look out into the dark waves of the lapping water. What would it be like to just walk out in the middle of that water, lie back, and let the ocean take me? Just let it carry me as far as it can and hopefully, end up on some completely deserted island in the middle of nowhere. I would never have to worry about being ignored again because it would just be me, the island, and the ocean. Would it be so bad just to leave? To walk away, not knowing or really caring where I end up finally getting away from this whole personality I've created for myself.
The ocean seems to be like a siren calling to me, pulling me to the freedom that is the sea, away from the harshness, untruthfulness, and unloving people who seem to surround me day in and day out. I wipe another tear from my face as the siren’s call reminds me of an old sailor's tune my grandfather used to sing to me before he passed. He was a fisherman who loved the seas, loved it so much he sailed out one day and never came back. Dad said he wouldn't be surprised if he was still out there raising hell in the tides.
Still, I can remember the song and sing as I watch the waves roll in and out, in and out. I wonder if I sit here long enough if it will take me away just as peacefully as it carries the sand away beneath my feet? And if it does…
Will anyone even care?