by Marie Snow
That’s what was happening to me with every beat of my heart.
“It’s time I’m independent. It’s time we both are.”
Matthew’s words filtered through my head on repeat.
I was gripping the steering wheel so tightly my knuckles cracked, ached like the skin was being ripped from my bones. That pain spread from the center of my chest to encompass every single part of me.
Every cell.
Every strand of DNA.
Every breath I took.
It had begun to rain, and I leaned forward in the seat of the car, trying to see better, the droplets slamming against the hood as if tiny bullets being discharged from the sky. Coupled with the glare of the headlights, it almost made it seem as if I were driving underwater.
But I couldn’t slow down. I was feeling frantic and panicked. I didn’t know where I was going, but I knew I had to get there.
Wherever there was.
I’d left Matthew at the house, not even telling him I was leaving. I’d just grabbed my keys and left because I needed some time to think.
I needed to breathe.
I needed to be free.
But this wasn’t helping matters. My mind was in even more turmoil than before. My heart hurt painfully, as if a vice were around the organ and squeezed it until there was nothing left.
There would be nothing left of me after this.
I’d be alone.
I’d be gone, nothing but a memory to Matthew, and maybe not even that.
I didn’t realize where I was going until I saw the street sign, until I was slowing and finally stopping in front of the house. Matthew had shown me where Jenny lived one day when we’d been driving around getting acclimated and acquainted with Liar’s Island.
Subconsciously I obviously needed to come here, and a part of me knew this was a bad idea. A confrontation was no doubt only going to make things so much worse.
But I was losing my son. How much worse could it get?
The windshield wipers moved back and forth. A swish-swish, swish-swish sound that was somehow calming but obnoxious at the same time.
I didn’t know how long I sat there, but I was somehow content just staring out the front windshield, watching the blades move back-and-forth.
Back-and-forth.
Back-and-forth.
I found myself reaching out and turning the key toward me, extinguishing the power, then pulling the keys out and shoving them in my coat pocket. I kept my fingers wrapped around them, the teeth of the metal digging into my skin, the pain a welcome distraction to everything else going on in my head.
I felt like I was on autopilot as I climbed out of the car, the door shutting behind me with a loud thunk, the sound mixing with the howling wind that moved through the trees. The rain had changed to a light drizzle, but I knew as time passed it would once again turn into a downpour, a torrential fall as if the sky had opened up and was crying.
Maybe it was crying for me?
I made my way up the uneven, cracked cement path that led to Jenny’s front door. I saw an old and worn picnic table off to the side. It seemed out of place to be in the front yard of a home, as if someone had gone to a park and scooped it up before depositing it right in that space where it would deteriorate and fade away.
Where it would die with time.
I stood on the two steps in front of the aged and weathered porch, before I closed the distance to the door, my arm raised, my hand poised over the scarred wood, my knuckles coming down on it in three hard raps.
I started to shiver but it had nothing to do with the cold, damp weather and everything to do with my raging emotions.
It was only a second before the lock on the other side disengaged and the door was being pulled open.
Jenny stood on the other side, the door blocking most of her body as she leaned her head out. I assumed she was trying to stop the flow of wind and rain from coming in.
There was no porch light, and aside from the muted moon above being blocked out by the rolling clouds, I knew she probably couldn’t see me very well.
“Jenny?” I could see her eyes widen momentarily, recognition finally coming in her gaze.
She pulled the door open a little bit more. “Michelle?”
I ran my hands up and down my thighs, not sure what I was going to say. “Hi. I—I’m sorry I just showed up. I just started driving and I found myself here.”
She still had the door partially blocking her body and I took note it was in an almost defensive move.
“Can we talk?” I didn’t know what I was going to talk to her about. Matthew? The situation? I honestly didn’t know.
I wanted to find out what she told him, what they’d talked about that had my son turning on me.
I wanted to know why she was pushing him to leave me.
She didn’t answer for a moment before she finally said, “I don’t think that’s such a good idea… not after our last conversation.”
I noticed the way her hand was curled around the edge of the door, her knuckles white.
“I spoke to Matthew earlier—”
“I know,” I cut her off, my teeth starting to chatter, once again an effect of my roiling emotions and the adrenaline racing through my veins. “I think that’s why I found myself here. Because I need to talk to you. About that. About what he told me when he came home.”
Her brows were lowered over her eyes in a confused expression. I wondered if she even knew what I was talking about. Did she not have anything to do with Matthew’s decision to leave?
No. No, no, no. This is her doing. We were fine, happy before she came along and ruined it all.
She put those thoughts into his head. She turned him around, so he wasn’t the same person I knew and loved.
“All I want to do is talk,” I quickly added, not wanting her to end the conversation just yet, which I was starting to feel like she would.
The rain started to taper off before slowly stopping, and I wondered how long we’d been standing here, how long I’d been standing out here waiting for her to respond. But then she pulled the door open wide and stepped outside, closing it behind her.
Jenny wrapped her arms around her waist in a very defensive move. Was she afraid of me? Surely that wasn’t the case. “I just want to talk,” I said to try and reassure her, try to make it so I didn’t seem as frantic and wired as I felt.
I turned my back to her and walked towards the edge where the steps were, staring at the yard, watching as the trees blew gently as the breeze picked up.
“What did you want to talk about?”
I could tell she had moved from the door, maybe wanting more space between us. So I retreated to stand on the walkway, looking up at the sky, watching the clouds moving, the moon peeking out from behind them.
“Matthew came home and was very upset because of you and I speaking.” She was silent and I looked over my shoulder at her. Jenny exhaled slowly and then moved down the porch to stand a few feet from me, her arms once again wrapped around her middle.
“Yes. I had to tell him what we talked about. I didn’t feel right leaving him in the dark. It was too important not to talk to him about.”
I slowly nodded and looked back at the sky. “I understand,” I murmured softly, and I did. I knew why she felt the compulsion to talk to Matthew. It was just the wrong decision. I’d have to make her see that. I’d have to make her see that this was all her fault. “But he’s very upset.”
“Understandably so,” she replied instantly, and I found my fingers curled tightly against my palms.
“He’s talking about moving out, getting his own space.” I turned and faced her then, shoving my hands in the pockets of my jacket, feeling my keys cold and hard against my fingers. “Are you the one who put that in his mind? Gave him the idea to leave me?”
Her brows furrowed and she slowly shook her head. “I’m not really sure what you’re getting at, Michelle. But Matthew’s a grown man. If he’s decided to live on his
own, I don’t really think that’s an unusual decision for him to make.”
Maybe not, but she didn’t know Matthew like I did. She never would. She didn’t know anything about him. I felt my anger rise again that this girl could have such an effect on our lives.
“You have no right to take him away for me.”
Her brows were still pulled down low, but I could see surprise filtering across her face. “I’m not trying to take anyone away from you, Michelle.” She took a step back and to the side, closer to that god-awful picnic table that was weathered and aged and sat in the center of her yard.
I felt that anger and sadness and panic swell within me until it was suffocating me, until I couldn’t think straight. I took a step closer to Jenny, and maybe she didn’t sense or feel how out of control I was in that moment because she stayed still.
Maybe I was more composed than I thought.
“You just came into our lives. You don’t even know Matthew, will never know him like I do, yet you’re persuading him to do things he normally wouldn’t. You’re making him deviate from the path we planned.”
I saw something flicker across Jenny’s face and she held up her hands in a purely submissive motion. “Michelle, maybe you mean deviate from your path?”
I squeezed my fingers around the keys so tightly I felt my skin cut open.
“But I’m not trying to deviate anybody from their path. I’m not trying to convince Matthew to do anything he doesn’t want to do. But I’m going to be honest,” she said and let those words hang in the air between us for a prolonged moment. “You wanting to keep this hold on him is not healthy. It’s not healthy for him, and certainly not for you.”
I felt this buzzing start in my head.
“You need to cut the cord, Michelle. I haven’t known you that long, yet even I can see how you suffocate him.”
Something in me flickered, this white, blinding light that was so hot and consuming it was almost like an out of body experience.
I didn’t know how or when I moved, but I was standing right in front of Jenny in the space of a second. Her eyes were wide, and her mouth was moving, but I couldn’t hear anything.
And then I was watching myself from the sidelines... watching myself lift my hands and wrapped them around her throat. I squeezed her neck, my fingers digging into her flesh. I was vaguely aware of her hands gripping my forearms, her nails clawing at my flesh. But I heard nothing but the steady thump-thump, thump-thump of my pulse in my ears. There was a serene sensation that filled me, one that I remembered all too well.
One that I’d experienced twice before in my life.
When I’d taken the lives of two other people.
When I’d snuffed out my mother’s life, who’d been sick and dying from cancer, who I’d watched suffer and grew to hate and despise for it. She dragged me under with her and that sickness. But I’d been free when it had all been said and done. I’d been free and moved to Stillwake and met the man of my dreams and had a beautiful baby boy.
And Jenny was trying to take him away from me. Just like Sofie had been trying to do.
I had to stop her.
Just like I’d stopped Sofie.
She’d been taking my Matthew away as well, trying to make him leave me. I couldn’t let that happen. I had to stop Sofie like I had to stop Jenny.
I thought about Matthew’s father in that moment as I squeezed the life out of Jenny, as her frantic motions were slowing.
Johnny had been the one person to truly know me. To see me. To love me unconditionally. He gave me a new life, showed me how to live again.
And he was taken from me as well.
I could hear something in the background, a buzzing, something nagging at my subconscious. I looked towards the house, feeling like I was in this bubble, in this tunnel. I could run and run and run, but I’d never reach the end. It would just get darker, that light at the end always elusive.
I could see a woman standing on the porch, an older version of Jenny, a cell phone pressed to her ear, her face a mask of shock. Her mouth was moving rapidly. She was screaming. She was frightened. And then she was coming at me, the phone falling from her grasp as she ran.
She pushed me away until I stumbled back, until my grasp loosened from Jenny’s throat. The haze kept me prisoner, as I watched Jenny fall to the ground on her hands and knees. The woman, who I assumed was her mother was crouched down beside Jenny.
Then she was standing, coming at me, her anger and fear coming from her in waves that I physically felt.
I knew those feelings well. They lived deep in my body, cut at me, dug their serrated claws into me.
She lashed out at me, clawing at my skin, screaming in my face. She pushed me and I stumbled back. She did it again and again, and I found myself grabbing her upper arms and wrenching her back, shoving her away. At the same time, I screamed, tears falling down my cheeks, mixing with the rain that covered me.
Bits of hair stuck to my cheeks and forehead. The rain made them feel like leeches on my skin, refusing to relinquish their hold.
I screamed again, shoved her away as hard as I could, using so much force it propelled me backward. I watched her fall, but I felt detached. She slipped on the ground, her head hitting the cement walkway. She stilled instantly.
I couldn’t stop the pain in me. I couldn’t breathe or think. I was just surviving. For me and my son. They threatened everything. Everything I’d worked hard to create.
I had to end this. I had to make her see that she was taking my very life from me.
Jenny was struggling to get up, one hand on the edge of the picnic table, the other one held out, her palm facing me as if she tried to ward me back. But I was already moving toward her. I was already grabbing her shoulders and hauling her up. I was already shaking her, her head rolling on her neck, her eyes rolling back in her head.
Her throat was red, my fingerprints black and blue bruises that were slowly forming on her pale flesh.
And as the rain fell harder, I gave her a massive shove, screaming again, the sky opening up and pouring down, screaming right along with me. I watched as she slipped on the now slick ground, her body crashing back against the picnic table, her head cracking on the edge of it as she fell to the ground in a pile of loose limbs.
Bits of hair and blood smeared along the corner of that picnic table, the rain slowly washing away the reality.
I stood there for long moments just staring, looking at Jenny and her mother not moving, watching the rain soak everything it touched.
There was a flash of headlights, a blinding, searing brightness that had me turning in that direction and lifting my hand, shielding my eyes.
Then there was the squeal of tires, the sound of a door opening and slamming shut. I saw Matthew running toward me, his eyes wide as he stared at me, before taking in the still bodies of Jenny and her mother.
I smiled, my love for him encompassing me.
“Mom?” he shouted over the howl of wind. “What happened?” He was looking at Jenny and the other woman, before he snapped his head back in my direction. “Oh God! What have you done?”
“She was going to take you from me,” I said, everything around me like this whirling, destructive tornado, the chaos surrounding me in an almost comforting hug. I was in the center of this storm, everything calm and collected, but outside of my bubble it was absolute horror. I knew that. I felt it.
I embraced it.
“I knew this was where you’d gone when I discovered you left without telling me. Mom—”
“You didn’t take your medicine. I didn’t want you to see this, Matthew. You should have taken your medicine.”
He stopped walking, and as he stared at me, I knew it was best this way. Now, there would be no secrets except the ones he and I forged together about what happened to Jenny and her mother. Now, Matthew and I could grow together.
“Oh God, Mom, what have you done?” he asked again, and I frowned.
“I had to stop her.
Can’t you see, Matthew? She was going to take you away, just like Sofie was.” I smiled, feeling all the love I had for him rise up. “You need me to shield you. That’s my job as your mother. I had to stop her, and I had to stop Sofie.”
He stood a few feet from me, his eyes wider than they’d been, his head shaking back and forth as if he were denying what I said.
“I wanted to protect you, shield you. I didn’t want you to be destroyed.” The sounds all around me slowly started to come back, a gradual rush of sensation into reality that had my head pounding and my body screaming in awareness. “I had to be strong for both of us. I had to make the hard decisions to save us.”
“W--What? What are you talking about? What are you saying?”
The words were tumbling out of him and crashing into me like waves moving against the shore.
“Sofie was bad for you. She was taking you away. No one will ever know what you really need but me. I’ll always be there for you.” I took a step forward—he took one back. “I had to do something. So, I followed you two out that night, drugged the wine, and then I waited.”
“You drugged the wine?” he whispered. His voice was soft and incredulous. “With my medication,” he said mostly to himself, realization coming through.
“I stopped her. I stopped her, Matthew. Can’t you see? I did it to protect you. To save you.”
He stumbled back again until his big body slammed against the side of the car. “You did what? You were the one… you killed Sofie?”
I slowly shook my head. “I didn’t kill Sofie, I saved you.”
“Saved me? Is that what you would have called it when you hurt Jenny, Mom? What would have happened if I hadn’t called for an Uber ride and followed you?”
“I had to Matthew. Don’t you see? You’ll see. It’ll come in time. She had to go. She had to go because she was going to drag you down. She was going to take you away from me. You’re all I have, Matthew. You’re all I have of myself. You. Stillwake. And your father. You have your father’s blood. You will need me, just like he needed me.”
His hands tunneled in his hair, his fingers scraping at his scalp, pulling at the strands. “My father?” His voice rose with his anger. “My father is dead. He’s fucking dead! He’s been gone for decades.” He pushed away from the car to straighten to his full, imposing height. “My father was a murderer, a serial killer. He was evil. He was sick. I am not him. He is not here.” Matthew kept shaking his head. “You’re as sick and evil as him. You’re as broken and damaged as he was, and you made me think I was the one who needed help.”