The Darkness Within

by Taylor K. Scott

  “Haven’t you got some random guy’s dick to suck somewhere else?” I scowl and begin walking away but she’s having none of it.

  “Oh, wait a minute, yes you did surprise people,” she runs alongside my strides as I walk, “you were actually a pretty decent human being when you took up with her and she was actually…happy! She was happy, Bowie!”

  “Well, she sure fucked it up then didn’t she!” I snap bitterly.

  “I wonder if Sam would agree with you?” The bitch is really pushing my buttons now. “What I do know is that I don’t trust Matt as far as I can throw him. I do, however, trust you. I hope you don’t disappoint, Bowie.”

  Before I have a chance to shoot my mouth off at her again, she turns and leaves me standing there, looking like a complete idiot. It’s only then that I realize I’m actually kind of shocked over her words. Everyone has always seen Matt as Mr Golden Balls, whereas I’m the motherfucker who has the reputation for screwing things up.

  It takes me a few minutes to decide what I want to do and then I’m back in my car heading over to Sam’s place, knowing there’s no risk of seeing either Matt or Millie there. Like any self-respecting man who’s just had their heart stomped on before the whole school, I need space, I need someone on my side, and I need some Goddamn sympathy. After all, she lied to me, she’s the one who took the side of her rapist brother, she was the one who went to Matt behind my back, and yet I’m the one being made to feel like the asshole here.

  The look on Sam’s face when she answers the door is mildly amusing, being that it’s a mixture of confusion and horror, like I’ve interrupted some secret sex ring in her very front room. Part of me wonders if she actually has a guy in here with her. However, after she concedes to letting me in, huffing as though I’m some sort of irritating salesman trying to flog her knocked off dildos, I discover it’s much, much, worse than that. The floor is literally covered in a sea of pictures, cards, and little knick-knacks from Grant. There are literally hundreds of images of the bastard staring up at me or looking all goo-goo eyes at my sister. For a split second, his happy-go-lucky face has me questioning how he was ever capable of harming her, but then I see the hurt swimming in her eyes and I fucking hate him again.

  “What.The.Fuck, Sam?!” I gasp as I walk around the edges of the room, carefully avoiding the risk of treading on his face in case he infects me with bad jiu-jiu or something. She sinks guiltily onto the same sofa Millie and I had slept on and I lose all coherent thought for a moment or ten. “I can’t handle this right now! It’s like I’ve walked into the twilight zone and Grant Thomas is the fucking king!”

  “Don’t be so dramatic, Bowie,” she sighs and begins picking up a few pictures, “I’m just having a sort out, that’s all.”

  “Why didn’t you burn all of this crap after the motherfucker attacked you? I mean…Jesus!”

  “Why are you here anyway?” she asks, all the while continuing to pick up all the crap from off the floor. “You only just left!”

  “Gee, thanks for the welcome!”

  “Oh, please,” she pauses and takes a moment to offer me a condescending grin, “something is up, and you know you’re going to tell me eventually. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have come.”

  “I broke up with Millie,” I mutter bitterly before slamming my body down onto the sofa beside her. “I’m kind of pissed off about it and need some of that big sister sympathy.”

  “Wait, what?! You broke up with the girl you just gave your heart to right in front of me?” I nod without even looking up at her. “Ok, well, in that case, sympathy pending. What exactly happened?”

  “She’s been seeing Grant,” I mutter quietly, knowing this is bound to upset her, “and I can’t be with someone who would choose a rapist over me, or you, for that matter.”

  I listen to her blow out a long jet of air but when I look up at her, she’s not crying, she’s actually looking at me like I’m something that has failed to evolve from the last ice age. I watch her with a furrowed brow, waiting for some sort of explanation when she eventually turns to look at me. She pulls me into her chest and hugs me like a big sister should, even if she is half my size, making it not overly comfortable.

  “As magnanimous as your grand gesture is, Bowie,” she says with a little humor to her voice, “you’re an idiot!”

  “Huh?”

  “Look, to Millie, Grant is her big brother. She has no one else.” She tries to explain, but I can’t say I’m convinced. “And he’s the guy that looked after her since she turned eleven or whatever. She’s stuck in between wanting to love him and wanting to hate him, which is a pretty shitty place to be in.”

  “I get that but-”

  “But nothing, Bowie, that’s the way it is and if it helps any, I already knew she’d seen him. She told me.”

  “What?!” I throw my hands over my face and growl to myself, feeling like the whole world has gone crazy and I’m the last to know. Sam just takes hold of my hand and laughs at me. “It’s too hard Sam, Millie and I just don’t make any sense. Look how Trixie reacted!”

  “That’s a bullshit excuse and you know it!” She looks at me with an expression that conveys that sentiment entirely. “But if that’s how you really feel, then you’ve already doomed any relationship with her, so I guess you’ve made the right decision.”

  My big sister, the psychology major, is now trying to work her voodoo, reverse crap on me, but, unfortunately for her, I think I’ve already made up my mind that this is for the best. I had a long journey back here to think is all over, and her seeing Grant, and the way I feel about it, is the last nail in the coffin. Time to let go and let us both move on with people who aren’t connected to something so horrible and so damaging.

  “It is…how I feel,” I reply sadly.

  She shakes her head at me like I’m standing in my own way of something great, and I know I am, but it feels like the right thing to do.

  “Where is she now?”

  “I left her with Matt at school,” I mutter bitterly, “the bastard showed his true colors when he was there to comfort her with a huge fucking grin all over his face.”

  Sam whips her head around to face me like the Road Runner on speed, and with a deep look of fear, which is a little unnerving.

  “Bowie, I don’t trust him at all!”

  “Well, yeah, neither do I. No need to worry though, I’m done with him.”

  “No, I mean with Millie!” she gasps, now looking genuinely concerned. “Please look out for her. Don’t let him hurt her.”

  “Now who’s being dramatic?” I chuckle.

  “I mean it, Bowie,” she slaps at my chest, “she has no one now and I’m worried about her.”

  Thanks for the little guilt fest there, sis. However, I nod my head and agree to keep an eye on the girl I’m still in love with, even if we aren’t together anymore.

  Chapter 28

  Amelia

  Months. It’s been over two months since Bowie reclaimed his heart and decided I was too vile to be with. I feel dead inside. Perhaps even worse than that, I feel like I’m in mourning for yet another person who used to be a part of me, someone I trusted my love with, and now they’ve left me too. You’d think I’d be used to it by now, but if anything, the torture feels worse. It’s like I’ve been ripped to shreds and left to bleed out on my own. The loneliness is suffocating, with everything feeling nothing but dark and hopeless.

  I don’t look forward to anything; I don’t push myself to go anywhere. Honestly, I don’t think I operate beyond the basis of robotic actions of living. Eating and drinking are tasteless, an exercise only necessary to keep me alive. All I am nowadays, is a function, someone who focuses only on sleep and studying. Even my tears have given up on me now, so much so, I simply end up staring out of the window while my mind turns blank.

  Mercy stays with me most of the time, much to Matt’s annoyance, but she is my rock and won’t hear of anyone else being there for me other than my ‘best gal pal’. A c
ouple of times Matt has looked to me to argue for him, with the puppy dog eyes coming out in full force. I merely shrug rudely before falling back into my own, damaged, head-space. Truth be told, I don’t want anyone right now. I just want to wallow in self-pity and drown in my own depression. This is more than just breaking up with the boy I fell in love with, this is the final ending of everything: my parents, my brother, my first love. Amelia Thomas is finally giving up.

  “Hey, Mils,” a familiar voice calls from the hallway where Mercy has just opened the door. “Are you coming?”

  At first, I don’t register the words, I merely continue to stare at the screen full of a cartoon I’m currently watching, though I couldn’t tell you which one it is. Whoever it is who is trying to reach out to me, begins to pace down the hall with heavy footsteps. I close my eyes when I take a good guess at who it is. I already know it isn’t Grant, and it certainly isn’t Bowie. The boy hates me again, however, at least I know why this time.

  “Yo, Millie!” Mercy shouts over to me, trying to sound chipper but even she’s at her wits end with my self-absorbed moodiness. “It’s your tall, dark, and totally fuckable boyfriend here to see you!”

  “Millie?” Gabe reaches out to take my hand into his, forcing me to finally open my eyes and take him in. “Mils, we’re supposed to see Grant today, remember?”

  I stare at him a while before I break down into a dry sobbing session against his chest. He wraps his arms protectively around me and I hide inside of them.

  “Come on, Babe, you have to snap out of this! You’ve been like this for the past two months!” he sighs but I start shaking my head in frustration at him.

  “No, it hasn’t, Gabe,” I sob, “it’s been nearly two fucking years! Everyone leaves me, Gabe, everyone! And I’m left here being hated for something I didn’t even do!”

  “Look,” he pulls back from me, gripping at my upper arms, and I brace myself for what is sure to be some tough love. “I’m here for you, Mercy is here for you, even your weird friend Matt is here for you! Don’t push us away and don’t think we’re giving up on you. Now, I can’t speak for Bowie, but I can speak for Grant. He is determined to get out, to prove his innocence, but he needs our help. Please don’t give up on him, Mils, because he’s just as lost as you are, only he’s got no one. You hear me?” I stare at him with glassy eyes, trying desperately to pull myself together. “Amelia Thomas! Do.You.Hear.Me?!”

  “Yes,” I reply rather sheepishly, “I hear you.”

  “Good, now cut the waterworks and get your butt ready to go,” he orders before getting up to go and fire up his bike. “We leave in two minutes!”

  As he walks out the door, I spot Mercy fanning herself with a far-off look in her eye, chewing on her bottom lip and practically drooling like a dog.

  “Mind out of the gutter, Mercy!” I mutter when I walk towards the end of the hall and grab my jacket.

  “I think my ovaries just exploded! That little scene of domination is definitely going in the flick bank!” She smiles wickedly just as I simultaneously grimace over her vivid description. “By the way, you remember me telling you I can’t stay tonight, don’t you? It’s my sister’s engagement party. Kill me now, by the way. Bitch has me wearing yellow!” She huffs as she points to her vibrant red hair. “Will you be-”

  “Yes!” I almost shout with far too much enthusiasm.

  Being Mercy, she just laughs, taking no offense to it at all. You could call her a whole barrage of names and she’d merely shrug it off before continuing to flirt with your boyfriend, who is now so enamored by her couldn’t-give-a-shit attitude, you’d end up standing there being surplus to requirement while he makes goo-goo eyes at her.

  “Sorry, I love you, but I need to have a little pity party all to myself tonight. Just me, Ben and Jerrys, and a little Ren and Stimpy marathon on the sofa.”

  “Hear you loud and clear, ho bag,” she says with a hug. “I’ll text you tomorrow.”

  I lock the door just as she gets into her rust bucket of a car, then walk over to where Gabe is waiting impatiently for me. The boy doesn’t even give me kudos for finally managing to take a step outside today. I wave at her as she whizzes by, all before I cling onto Gabe when he pulls away with delicious speed.

  Gabe and I haven’t discussed what’s going on with Bowie, just that we had an epically horrible argument at school and haven’t spoken since. I have an awful feeling he’s going to be bringing it up later, but for now, I savor the journey on the back of his bike. With nothing but noise filling my ears and wind running over my skin, my mind finally clears itself from all the suffocating blackness that has been engulfing my thoughts. I’m covered head to toe in protective clothing, but this feeling on the back of his bike is so liberating, I could almost believe I’m sat here completely naked.

  I cling to Gabe’s back like my life depends on it, finally realizing that I do have someone to hold on to, who won’t cast me aside, who won’t leave me, and who isn’t a threat to me in any way, shape, or form. A sudden pang of nostalgia hits me, and I find myself missing our days when we were together; when he took the place of Grant and looked after me.

  Instead of sinking, I indulge in the knowledge that next year we will be at the same college and I will no longer be tainted with the repulsive reputation which surrounds my name wherever I go. I can finally look forward to something, even if it is without Bowie. I can try and be me again.

  When we arrive, the prison looks just as bleak as it always does but at least the days are turning sunnier again. The cloudless sky is a brilliant blue and the sun is making the imposing walls cast shadows across the front lawn. The prison guards are now in short sleeves, which somehow makes them look happier and less threatening. I begin to hope that maybe Grant might even look a little brighter this time, less strained and less beaten.

  Gabe helps me with my helmet and locks up the bike before placing his hand onto the small of my back, ushering me in with a weird sense of protectiveness under the guards’ watchful eyes. He looks at them without fear, almost sternly, and I have to bite my lips together to stifle the laugh that’s sitting inside of my throat. The first one in weeks because Gabe has never looked so serious.

  Once inside, we go through the usual rigmarole of being searched and questioned before we’re shown through to the bland visitor’s lounge, waiting to be let inside with the other people here. I wave at the girl who is still chewing gum, and she waves back. She’s called Silver and is here to see her father who is inside for putting her ex-boyfriend in hospital after the bastard tried to shove a knife inside her ribs. She never asked what Grant is inside for and I never offered up the information. I’ve heard about what kind of treatment sexual offenders get inside, so I’m certainly not going to risk my brother being subjected to that sort of abuse. Not when I know he’s innocent.

  The alarm buzzes and we all stand like sheep, slowly filtering inside with blank expressions, bracing ourselves for what we’re about to see. I scan the room for my brother but it’s Gabe who sees him first.

  “Oh, shit!” he mutters before blowing out a long stream of air through his nose and shaking his head towards the floor.

  I know that can’t be good, so look to him for further explanation, just before he juts out his chin to where Grant is perched upon a chair. He’s slumped over and looking another few years older than the last time I saw him. He’s sporting a black eye, a swollen lip, and his nose is looking a little out of place. His hair has grown longer and looks thoroughly disheveled, and although he’s trying to smile at us, he looks...darker.

  When my brain finally convinces my feet to move, I push past the other tables and throw my arms around my big brother’s shoulders, squeezing him tightly and shuddering against his chest. I hear him hiss when he has to take in a large gulp of air, wincing in pain when I inadvertently press onto a damaged rib, plus all the other hidden bruises beneath his oversized sweater. A sweater he doesn’t need to keep warm. A sweater that’s there to hide the
true extent of his injuries from us.

  “What the hell, man?” Gabe frowns at him as soon as he sits down and properly takes stock of Grant’s face, trying to see past the facial hair to where fresh fingerprint bruises graze along his jawline.

  “I guess word eventually got out about why I’m in here,” Grant smirks through embarrassment, “guess I’m public enemy number one. Can’t complain really, nearly had two years without my dirty, little secret getting out.”

  He reaches his hands out to cover mine and he tries to comfort me, being that I’m sat here sobbing over the mess he’s now in.

  “Aren’t they protecting you?” Gabe jacks his thumb over towards one of the guards, but Grant just laughs mirthlessly.

  “You think they like me any better?” He coughs as he chuckles, which makes him immediately grimace and clutch hold of the left side of his torso. “How do you think my ribs got messed up?”

  “Fuck!” Gabe closes his eyes and rubs them with his forefinger and thumb, sighing long and hard while trying to comprehend all the shit that’s falling upon his best friend. “Mils, are we any closer to finding out who really hurt Sam?”