25. Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Five
Kat
He let me leave, this time. And I walked. And walked. And cried. I looked like a lunatic, to the point where people were noticing. I looked down and just kept moving, knowing the limping, crying girl in the pretty, dirty dress would leave their minds quickly enough.
And despite what I’d said about Bex and Tam, I still thought maybe I could… fix things? Change the way they saw me? I wasn’t sure. But I did pull out my phone and dial Bex’s number with a shaking hand. It should be morning for her by now.
“Kat? Hey, I’m heading into a few meetings, I’ll call you back later, alright? Love you, bye!” she said, hanging up before I could even say a word. Of course, she was busy running my company for me, because I wasn’t there. Right.
Tam was on vacation, here in Australia. I didn’t want to ruin her trip, but she was coming back soon, anyway. So, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. I knew they would say I should’ve reached out if I didn’t. That I shouldn’t have shut them out, pushed them away. They were ALL right. So, I called Tam.
She didn’t pick up.
Okay. That was fine. She was busy having fun—I knew that. I didn’t need to ruin that, anyway. She’d be back either tomorrow or the next day, and I could deal until then. I’d be okay alone. I knew how to be alone.
I wrapped my un-slinged arm around the other, wondering how I could’ve forgotten a jacket again. Melbourne might not be directly on the water, but it was on the water. And it was nighttime. And I was cold. Again. Oh, well.
I was starting to slow down—I knew that my hip was becoming a problem again.
Luckily, it didn’t seem as bad as the last time.
I’d call a car, soon. I just wanted to be alone for a little while longer.
I jumped at the sound of my ringtone, but I sighed at the song that played.
My mom must’ve gotten her number reconnected. But maybe… maybe I could talk to her.
“Hi, Mom,” I said softly, holding my breath. I hadn’t heard from her since before I was kidnapped. I wasn’t even sure she knew I’d been in the hospital. I hoped she hadn’t known. It hurt less that way.
“Katherine Marie-“ she started, like she always did. Angry about something. I sobbed. She stopped talking. She must’ve heard me.
“Mom, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. For everything.
Okay? But I’m going to go now. I love you,” I said, sobbing heavily into the phone.
I hung up before she could respond. I couldn’t handle her yelling right now.
My breathing ticked up, and I knew this time I wouldn’t be able to stop the panic attack.
It was headed for me like a freight train.
Just as I was looking for a place to sit, to hide from the general public, the world decided to just give me a swift kick in the ass while I was already flat on the floor. The heavens opened up and it started to pour.
It seemed fitting, somehow.
I turned down another alley, wondering where the hell I was, when my breathing started picking up even more.
I had made such a fucking mess of everything.
I was so tired. So, so tired of being blamed for things I didn’t even remember from when I was SIX fucking years old.
And really, truly, most of them were blaming my dad.
But he wasn’t here to blame. And I was the one aligned with him and his choices at the time. Not my mom, clearly. Me.
But no one knew that I made him go back.
No one knew that I was planning to go with.
Almost no one knew what my dad did to fix his mistake.
No one knew what I had done. The CPR. The fighting. The gunshot wound. The forcing him to stay alive when he wanted to just go, to just make it stop.
The bruise on my hip.
The one on my arm.
The reason my wrists were destroyed.
And I couldn’t tell any of them. I didn’t know where to start, with some of it. And I physically, psychologically, couldn’t share the rest. Everything was just so fucked.
My vision started to fade, and I knew it wasn’t from the tears. I was breathing too quickly. But I didn’t have any of my candy. And I didn’t have the energy to make lists. To notice things. All I could feel, could notice, was the freezing rain, soaking into my dress, my hair, hiding my tears.
I leaned my forehead against some other brick wall, momentarily making an effort to control my breathing. But I just couldn’t stop thinking about how much I had messed up everything in my life.
Henry’s dad’s words kept playing on repeat. Your father would be ashamed of you.
Yes. Yes, he would be.
My knees were starting to give. I was relatively certain some sort of triangular geometry was the only reason I was still upright. My vision was gone. And I just kept hearing that line. Over. And over. And over again. Ashamed. My dad would be ashamed.
The sobs and the hiccups and the quick breaths all merged together until I was gasping for air, despite somehow knowing I was breathing TOO quickly.
And all I could see was the blood coating my hands.
Henry’s dead body in front of me, under my hands.
The utter despair, the hopelessness, the emptiness.
I tried to remind myself it wasn’t real. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real. He was fine. He was just fine. He was breathing well enough to have been screaming at me however long ago.
But my body didn’t know that. My body only knew pain. Uncertainty. Fear.
I was going to pass out. I was shaking, my knees sagging, my body barely held up against the wall. Well, no better time to learn how to deal with this alone.
I worked on lowering myself to the ground without hurting myself. I mostly succeeded, my knees barked slightly as they hit the concrete. I immediately dropped to my ass, knowing kneeling on the concrete would push me right over the edge right now. I could do this. I had this. I could breathe.
I just needed to breathe. Slower. I needed to breathe slower.
One. Two. Three. Gasp. Fuck. Again.
One. Two. Three. Four. In.
One. Two. Three. Four. Out. There it was.
I tried to focus on my hands, now that I could see a little again. Maybe I’d start my count-
There was blood on my hand.
I knew. I knew that I’d scraped my palm. I knew it wasn’t Henry’s blood. I knew. I knew.
But I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t focus on anything but that blood. I could smell it, see it, taste it. It hung heavy and thick all around me.
I couldn’t… breathe.
I couldn’t…
See.
I couldn’t…