Silent Screams

by Zachary Ryan

  “We’re not done here,” my grandfather said.

  I turned to him. “Why does it matter?” I asked. “You’ve planned this without any of my consent.” I didn’t give him a chance to respond. I walked out of the room. I walked to the backyard. I saw Chet talking to a couple of family friends. I needed an escape, and he was the perfect person for it.

  I walked down to one of the bars that were set up in the backyard. I grabbed the bottle of whiskey and I began to drink it. I had my grandfather’s words stuck in my head. He talked about me keeping a perfect image. Well fuck him. I wasn’t going to give him what he wanted.

  I walked up to Chet. “Do you want to go for a joy ride?” I asked.

  He looked at me and the bottle. “Are you sure? You don’t seem like you’re in the right headspace.”

  I chuckled. “Pussy,” I said.

  He nudged me. “Fuck off,” he said. He looked at me for a second. It was one of the slight moments that he was being a friend. “Is everything okay?” he asked.

  I nodded. “Yeah, I just want to get out of here. It’s a bit boring, and I’m looking for a thrill.”

  The word thrill made Chet’s face light up. “I like the sound of that,” he said.

  We ended up stealing one of my grandfather’s cars. I knew it was cliché, but I wanted nothing more than to piss him off. I continued to drink the bottle of whiskey, even if Chet protested. He went on a wild bender once, and I was allowed one too.

  I felt the rush of the wind in my hair. I felt the adrenaline of having all this control in my hands. I finally felt free in this moment. I wasn’t going to be put under someone’s thumb anymore. I wasn’t going to let someone tell me how to live my life.

  I felt the whiskey take over my body. I was losing myself in the intoxication of freedom, and I heard Chet’s screams. I ignored them because I wanted to drive straight into that fence. I wanted nothing more than for the police to come. I craved the idea of my family being disappointed in me. I was the legendary Ben Howard as Gabe liked to call me, but I wanted to ruin that name.

  “But your family covered it up,” Dr. Clarkson asked, once I was done telling the story.

  I looked at her. “I woke up in the house with a nurse checking on me. Chet and I got lucky with only a couple of bruises and scratches. They instantly had Chet sign an NDA about the incident, and he was paid a large sum of money.”

  “How did your grandfather respond?” she asked.

  He turned to my mother and goes, “This is why I told you not to marry that man. Ben has too much disappointment from Richard in him,” he said, and walked away.

  “And have you tried to ruin your squeaky-clean image since?” she asked.

  I looked at her. “It didn’t get the reaction out of them. I felt a little defeated because I thought that would nudge them a little to give me some freedom of my life. They just saw it as a child acting out, instead of a cry for help. I had spent my whole life being controlled by them, and I’ve given up on passions of mine for them. I assumed once I got out of high school they would give me some say in my life.”

  “They just brushed it off then,” she said.

  “Yeah, and then my mother kicked my father and I out.”

  “What about that clean image now?”

  “Sadly, it’s the only thing I have left now. I lost the money and power, but I’ve kept the one thing that I’ve always fucking hated.” I looked at my hands. “It scares me because now my life isn’t controlled, and I don’t know what I’ll do now. I saw that acceptance letter from Princeton, and a part of me hated it.”

  “But?”

  “But a part of me thrived because of it. It meant that I still had some of my life planned out for me,” I said. I knew that I had become accustomed to having the easy road, and I didn’t know if I ever wanted that to go away. I still had Gabe telling me I didn’t know how to live on my own, and it killed me because he was right. I was a child acting out, and now I got my wish. I had all the options in the world, but I really didn’t know if I was strong enough on my own to make those decisions for myself.

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  Zachary

  Why was I standing here looking like such a stalker? I asked myself, as I stood at the entrance of the theatre watching everyone perform. I rolled my eyes when I saw Marylyn perform one of her lead songs.

  “You know she sounds so pitchy,” Gabe said, standing next to me. “You’d be so much better Millie.”

  “But I was going for Dorothy.”

  “Because you didn’t want to take on that role.”

  I turned to look at him. “I don’t need you to give me a lecture right now.”

  He chuckled. “Always a tough exterior with a desire to be approved by everyone.”

  “Always an innocent one who turns out to be a true villain,” I said. Anytime Gabe’s image came to harass me it had always been a somewhat blessing in disguise. Then the memory I tried so hard to push back came to the forefront.

  He walked in front of me. “It should be you on that stage. I didn’t get why you put so much pressure on yourself,” he said. “Even my mom told you to not worry.”

  I smiled softly. “Your mother was a true gem.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Whatever. She was more concerned about you guys than she was about me. I wasn’t good enough for her.”

  “Gabe...” I let the thought drift away. He turned to watch the performance, but I was stuck thinking back to the fall when Gabe helped me run lines, Candice gave me advice, and Gabe had a meltdown.

  “Delilah, you can’t just expose someone for what they did to you,” Gabe said, reading from the script book.

  I tried to remember what my line was. I looked at him again. I was just so frustrated that I couldn’t get my lines down. I had finally got a bigger role in a fall play, and I was going to ruin it.

  “What’s my line?” I asked.

  “I don’t care. She exposed my secrets, and it’s time she knew what that felt like,” he said.

  I grabbed the book out of his hands. I read the line he just said. I groaned because I didn’t remember that. “I’m going to freeze out there,” I said, slumping on the couch. We were in the living room.

  “I’ll grab some water for us,” he said, and walked away.

  “Having trouble with your lines?” Gabe’s mom asked, walking into the living room with a basket full of laundry.

  “Yeah, but Gabe’s helping me.”

  She dropped the laundry on the love seat. She walked over and picked up the playbook. She started flipping through the pages. “Lots of lines.”

  “Don’t freak me out too much.”

  She walked over and pulled me into a hug. She rubbed me back and it felt nice. I melted into the hug. I knew I couldn’t go to my parents about this because I couldn’t let them think less of me. If my brother and sister should do it, then I could do it too.

  “I just don’t want to look like an idiot up there,” I said.

  She leaned back and grabbed both sides of my face. She looked me in the eyes. “You’re a beautiful and talented girl. You have nothing to worry about. If you make a mistake, that’s fine. No one’s perfect, and no one expects you to be, too.”

  I wanted to argue with her on it, but it was so nice having this moment with someone. “Thank you.” I felt the rush of comfort take over my body, and I didn’t want it to be taken away from me.

  “I’m here anytime. I’m a shoulder you can always cry on.” She winked. She let me go and picked up the laundry basket. “Can’t wait to see you perform.” She left the living room.

  Gabe stormed back into the living room and slammed two glasses of water on the coffee table. “You guys need to leave my mother alone.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?”

  “I get all four of you have shitty parents, but she’s my mom. She’s the only thing I have, and you keep taking her away from me. All of you guys do. We all have our problems. Go to your own parents
, not mine.”

  “Gabe, we never meant to...” I tried to get a sentence out.

  “Forget it. Just know I’m going through shit, and I would like my mom’s attention to be on me, not you guys”

  “Do you want to talk about it?” I asked. I didn’t want Gabe to feel alone, and I’ve never seen him this hurt before.

  He grabbed the book. “I’m not the ones in the spotlight. No one cares about my sob story like they care about yours. I’m the supporting character in my own damn play.” He opened the book. “Delilah, you can’t expose someone for what they did,” he said, the line again that we got stuck on before.

  I couldn’t forget the anger and hurt in his eyes. His words continued to be stuck in my life. What did he mean by being a supporting character? We have given him every chance to pour out his problems to us, right?

  I came back to the present. “Was this what you wanted your mother's help with? We’re we that careless with your well-being?” I asked.

  “Those are the questions you have to answer yourself.” He turned to me. “All we ever did was calm you down for the stage.” He didn’t give me a chance before he walked towards the front to watch the rest of rehearsals.

  I felt guilt in that moment. Had I been too selfish and self-centered to not see Gabe was in pain? Had I ignored Gabe’s pain so much that he did what he did? I prayed I was wrong, but my heart was saying something entirely different.

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  Lane

  You looked at all the scars and broken parts

  You kissed me softly on the wrist that was filled with pain

  Told me that it was okay that I was vulnerable.

  You looked me in the eyes, and you said those three words

  Even though you knew that maybe I wasn’t strong enough

  To say it back.

  I had read the poem over and over again. I thought maybe I could submit this to the literary magazine. It was vague enough, but there were still things in there that I wasn’t sure I wanted people implying.

  I tapped my pencil on the notebook, and I sighed in frustration. I pulled my bottom drawer open. I dug under a couple of folders and pulled out a picture of Colby and me. It was taken at Christmas time. He wanted to go to Zoo lights, and I thought it was a stupid idea. I didn’t want to admit that it was one of the best nights of my life. He looked cute with his nose so red, and my checks were rosy.

  I touched him, and I looked back at the poem. I remembered the moment I told him about my suicide. We had been at my house one-night binge watching a show on Netflix. It had only been a month into our relationship. We were still getting to know each other.

  “Why do you always wear long sleeves?” he asked, when the episode had ended. He hit pause before the new one started.

  I turned to look at him. “That’s a really odd question to ask,” I said. I knew the answer, and I didn’t want him to pry. “I guess, because I’m always cold,” I said, and shrugged.

  He glared at me. “I doubt it. You are always sweating and I remember one time you said it was too warm during poetry club, but you kept your sweater on,” he said.

  “I like to wear sweaters,” I said. I didn’t want him to keep trying with this conversation. I wanted him to let it go, and we could enjoy the rest of our movie.

  “I think it’s because you got a tattoo,” he said. He reached over and tried to grab my wrist. He started to push the sleeve of it.

  I pushed him off of me, and I backed up. “It’s nothing!” I screamed. “Can’t we just drop it?” I asked.

  He was startled, and I could see the wounded puppy expression on his face. I knew he was trying to be cute, but I didn’t want him to keep asking about the damn reason I wore sweaters. I knew eventually, we would have to get intimate. We’ve had it several times that he has put his hand under my shirt and I’ve pushed him off.

  He looked at me. “No, I don’t want to drop it, Lane. You’ve been so guarded with me since we started dating. You continue to keep me at a distance, and it isn’t fair to me. If you want this to work, you need to let me in,” he said. He walked closer to me. “Please, you have to let me in.” He grabbed my hand, and I saw the pain in his eyes.

  I leaned forward and kissed his lips. I knew that eventually I would have to tell Colby. I thought I would have a little bit longer, but he had a right to the information. What killed me the most, was that it terrified me more to lose him than for him to know about my suicide.

  I took in a deep breath. I pulled my left arm sleeve up. I revealed the scar that was very noticeable. “This past summer, I tried to kill myself. No one knows, and I wanted to keep it that way. I thought wearing long sleeves wouldn’t make people notice or care. I guess I was wrong,” I said.

  He looked at the scar then at me. “Can I touch it?” He asked. I nodded. He gently placed his fingers on the scar. I felt a surge of uncomfortableness when his fingers and my scar finally met.

  He didn’t say anything right away. What I wasn’t expecting was for him to lean down and kiss the scar. “What was that for?” I asked.

  He looked at me. “Why did you do it?” he asked.

  “Because I threw myself at a guy, and he didn’t accept me. My parents had found out I was gay, and I was terrified that they were also going to reject me. I thought that I was going to be alone in the world. I didn’t believe that anyone loved me.”

  He grabbed my right hand and intertwined our fingers together. He squeezed lightly. “It’s why I kissed you. I want you to know that I might not say the right things sometimes, but I’ll never leave you. I’ll always love you and I want you to remember that.”

  It was the first time he had told me he loved me. “What if I’m not strong enough to say it back?” I asked.

  He smiled. “You did when you showed me your scar. It might have been in your own way, but you said it.” He leaned forward and kissed me.

  He had been the only person that new about my suicide, and he wasn’t here to help with the heartbreak. I looked at the photo, and I felt so much rage. I ripped the photo in shreds along with the poem. “You told me you were never going to leave me. He promised me you would stay, but where are you now when I’m completely destroyed?” I asked, and I knew that he would never again walk through that door and give me the answers. I felt the itch from my scar, and it pissed me off even more that for a slight moment, while madly in love with Colby, I forgot about the stupid thing, and I thought I could finally be normal again.

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  Cass

  I took in a soothing breath. I had the whole dance studio to myself. It was late at night, and I just needed to be alone. I walked over to the stereo and played press on the song that I had chosen. I wasn’t looking to hit perfection or repeat this dance. I just needed to get it out of my system, or I was going to go crazy.

  The melody of the song started to fill the room before the words began. I felt the song take over my body, and I began to move to the song. I felt all the emotions that I needed to dance start to escape. I leaped when I thought of Jarele. I fell to the floor when I thought of Gabe. I held myself close when I thought of my parents, and I reached out my arms praying for joy when Edgar crossed my mind.

  I didn’t realize that I had been crying, but I wasn’t surprised. These last two months have been intense, and they were about to get even more dramatic. We only had three weeks left in high school, and I felt this odd sensation that I was going to miss it. I didn’t know why I felt that way. Only a few weeks ago, I wanted to get the hell out of there. I stood straight up and raised my hands to the sky. I needed the answers as to why I would miss this hell pit.

  The song started to fade. I was startled when I heard clapping. I turned to the entrance of the studio, and Ben was standing there. “Ben, what are you doing here?” I asked, as I walked over to grab my water bottle.

  “I saw that you posted on your Instagram story that you were here at the studio. I wanted to check on you after everything that
has happened,” he said.

  I looked at him with curious eyes. “If you’re referring to my panic attack during senior portraits, then you’ll be happy to know I’m fine.” I knew it was a lie, but I honestly didn’t want to get into a conversation with him about how I’ve felt since my panic attack.

  “Why don’t I believe you?”

  “Because I’m not going to do the soft and fuzzy with you. Ben, you’re the last person that I’m going to talk to about feelings.” I knew Ben meant well, but he wasn’t really understanding. We’ve all had this underlying pressure to be perfect in the eyes of Ben. He came from Rockford royalty, and people were never to look sloppy in front of him.

  “Is that why you didn’t tell me about your break-up with Jarele?” he asked. “I had to find out from fucking Chet and Kate.”

  “Am I supposed to keep you updated on everything going on in my life?” I replied back.

  “I thought about after what Gabe did that we would be more open to each other.”

  “You don’t get to use Gabe as an argument right now. Especially, when that makes you the biggest fucking hypocrite in the room right now.” I didn’t have time nor did I want a lecture from fucking Benjamin Howard.

  “How am I being a hypocrite?”

  “What’s going on in your life?” I asked. “How’s everything going on at home?”

  “Everything’s fine,” he said with a shrug. He couldn’t look me in the eyes, and his voice went soft. That was a huge tell that he was lying. You had to pay attention to Ben extremely closely to know that he was lying.

  “Bullshit,” she said. “Ben, there’s no way everything’s fine in your life.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “One of our best friend’s shot up the school. You can deny that he wasn’t our best friend, but we spent all of our high school years together sitting at the same damn lunch table. We used to be at each other’s house. Shit, we all looked at his mother as our own.” I stepped closer to him. “Maybe this is karma because we could have stopped him.”