The Darkness Within

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The Darkness Within Page 37

by Taylor K. Scott


  “For God’s sake, Bowie, you’re scaring me,” Sam grips hold of both my hands and looks intensely at me, begging me to give it to her, whatever it is.

  “Millie was attacked last night,” the words filter through the space between us, and I watch her eyes fill with horror. “The same thing that happened to you nearly happened to her.” She literally turns a sickly shade of green, drawing her hands up to cover her mouth, and begins to shake her head. “She wasn’t though, I mean she wasn’t raped,” I let out on a sad sigh, “she was pretty beaten up though and when I say we got there in the nick of time, I’m not exaggerating at all.”

  “W-where did this happen? Who?” She looks away as if it’s all coming back to her, a nightmare on repeat, one which she’s always going to remember.

  “Well, that’s the thing, Sam,” I look nervously at her, “it was Matt, at one of his parties.”

  My words cause her to leap up and begin pacing angrily around the room, seemingly unable to make peace with the information I’ve just given her.

  “I told her to keep away, I warned her! And I knew he wasn’t right, I knew there was something off about him, ever since…” She spins around and pins me with a look that tells me she already knows what my next words are going to be. “No!”

  “God, Sam, he filmed it!”

  Now I know people would call me a pussy for crying, but fuck, this is my sister. Some asshole who pretended to be a friend, filmed himself raping my sister and here I am having to tell her. The motherfucker used to jerk off to it, pretending it was Millie, like some evil, sick villain from a violent horror movie.

  She slowly melts towards the floor, her eyes unmoving from her focal point where she’s probably not seeing anything but her own horror. I instinctively lunge to catch her and hold on tight when she descends into gut-wrenching crying. I can honestly tell you I have never been so thankful to have my parents walk back into the house at that moment in time. They are on us before we even have a chance to register their presence; all four of us still lost for words over what happened two years ago. We thought the worst of it was over when Grant got sent down, but here we are again, no further forward, but hopefully no further back either.

  Chapter 34

  Bowie

  A few hours later and there is still no word from either Millie or her scatty mother. After driving my mother up the wall with my impatience, I decide I can’t wait for a second longer, so make my way over to go and see her. I’m surprised her mother hasn’t called me; I thought I could rely on her promise after we spoke last night, but I guess she’s flaky with everyone. I just hope it isn’t because Millie is so traumatized, they won’t let her have visitors, because I desperately want to talk to her. In fact, I need to talk to her, to be with her.

  Once I reach the reception desk at the hospital, I become one of those assholes who people tut at because he’s laying into a nurse, who is no doubt at the end of a very long shift and needs me ranting at her like a hole in the head. She keeps telling me there is no Amelia Thomas with them and even if there were, she couldn’t tell me anything because I’m not a relative. I begin to shout and throw myself around to the point where I hate the person I’m being right now. However, when the burly security guard comes up behind me, I can’t help but lose my cool just that little bit more. I stubbornly remain arguing with her, telling her she must have it wrong or that she’s purposefully keeping her from me, like some sort of imbecile who hasn’t evolved much past a mindless thug.

  “Bowie!” a man’s voice calls out from behind me. I ignore it and continue with my full-on temper tantrum, which will probably result in my picture being slapped up on the wall, warning the public that the hospital will not tolerate this kind of behavior towards its staff. “Bowie! She’s not here!”

  Those words finally get my attention, making me spin around and get ready to kill whoever it is with my bare hands. I frown with confusion when I come face to face with Gabe, who is looking as guilty as hell. I waste no time in walking over to where he’s standing, complete with security still on standby, where I narrow my eyes into angry little slits, silently daring him to go on.

  “She’s gone, man,” his throat bobs as he swallows hard, before thrusting an envelope into my hands. “She asked me to give you this, after-”

  “After what?!” I ask with exactly zero patience left inside of me.

  Gabe shrugs without meeting my eyes, still holding the taunting little envelope out towards me. Eventually, he huffs over my stubbornness and shoves the offending item into my hands and with it, turns my anger into disappointment. I know this can’t be good news. I know this isn’t what I want to hear.

  “After she made us swear not to call you,” he swallows again, “she said she heard everything you said to her last night and wanted you to read this. I guess you have her number anyway, but I think she’s hoping you’ll respect what is in the letter before you try and call her.”

  Walking forcefully out of the hospital, I rip the envelope open as fast as possible. I’m not one to let things lie, to stare at unopened mail which is only going to deliver me the news I need to know now. When I got my offer letters from colleges, I had opened them the minute I saw them on the doormat. I don’t procrastinate.

  Gabe follows a few steps behind, his body hunched and sorry-looking. I guess even he knows this isn’t going to be good for me.

  Bowie,

  What a mess, huh? Who knew the kid from next door would turn out to have such an unhealthy obsession that he would destroy several people’s lives in the process of trying to get to me? I sure hope we can laugh about this one day.

  I can imagine her shy smile saying this to me, being both nervous and most likely there to try and hide a deep-rooted sadness within her blue eyes. The thought alone makes me ache.

  Please don’t be angry with my mother or Gabe, I was a bitch about making them promise they wouldn’t contact you. You see, I wanted to be the one to talk to you, to explain what’s going on inside of me, but I guess I’m not able to face you just yet. It’s too hard and I’m too much of a coward. But I want you to take away one thing if nothing else; I am horribly and stupidly in love with you, my own, personal bully. A bully who turned out to be my everything! I can’t thank you enough for saving me, and not just last night. Your love saved me from sinking and I know I let you down in the process.

  I always knew in my heart that my brother was innocent and that is the only reason I kept seeing him. I needed to prove his innocence for him, for me, for Sam, even for you. She deserved happiness with him, but it was ripped away from her in the worst possible way. I will never tell anyone about that awful video, but please let Sam know that it was obvious that she truly believed he was Grant at the time, and I will convey as much to my brother when they finally free him. God, it feels so good to say ‘when’ rather than ‘if’.

  If he had been guilty of hurting her in the way you all thought he did, I don’t think I could have forgiven him either, so please don’t think I was choosing a rapist over you and Sam. When it comes to choosing, Bowie, I will always choose you.

  I bet you’re now wondering where I am and why I’ve chosen not to see you. I’ve gone back to stay with Mom, at my Aunt’s place in Chicago. I need to get away from here, away from that house, and away from the boy next door. You called it a mausoleum not long ago and you were right. I was a victim in that house, ever since Grant went away, and I’ve slowly been dying inside of it. I don’t think I know how to not be a victim at the moment. I thought about telling you exactly where I’m going but I think I need some time to be with my brother, to try and patch things up with Mom, maybe even Dad. I need to grow, which sounds beyond corny, but it’s true and it’s how I feel.

  I don’t expect you to wait for me; if you find someone who can make you happy and isn’t surrounded by all of this, then I will truly be happy for you. I guess I’m letting you go, not because I want to, but because I need to. I hope you understand because I have never felt the
way I do when I’m with you. I will love you always.

  Millie, X

  As I carefully fold the letter back up and return it with precision inside of the envelope it came in, I feel Gabe slump his hand over my shoulder. I hold my eyes tightly shut between my finger and thumb, trying not to cry in front of the guy behind me. I don’t feel like sharing that with anyone but me and my bedroom floor, where I can let all the ugly out without anybody watching.

  “You ok, man?” he murmurs from behind me, but all I can do is nod my head, still keeping my back to him. “You want me to give her anything? She’s not leaving for a few days.”

  I think about it for a moment or two before eventually shaking my head. I could never put into words what I feel for her, I’d mess it up completely and I don’t want to do that with her anymore.

  “Just tell her…,” I breathe out while I carefully consider my words, “just tell her, I’m proud of her.”

  Amelia

  “Gabe,” I hold onto his arm with a mixture of fear and excitement as we stare at the prison walls that have wrongfully held my brother for so long. “I’m so damn nervous and I don’t even know why!”

  He laughs when I begin bouncing up and down on the spot just to release some of the adrenaline running through my veins. I feel like I have so much energy, I’m going to go mad with it. Gabe grips my shoulders to steady my flailing limbs, which seem to be acting independently of my body.

  The prison looks entirely different today. Its walls are no longer intimidating to look at, the guards seem to be smiling, and the sun is shining over the perfectly landscaped lawn in front. It’s taken a week or so for this day to finally come, which annoyed me to begin with, but now that it’s here, all bad feeling has been left behind.

  We arrived early but were still bombarded by a few reporters and their photographers, which have now doubled in number and are frequently trying to get us to talk about the ‘horrific ordeal’ my family has gone through. However, at least they have been cordoned off and can’t get anywhere near to where we’re waiting for him to come out, which is taking for bloody ages.

  Gabe heard Bowie’s family, especially poor Sam, has had frequent crowds of reporters camped outside of their place; I know Matt’s parents have had an equally horrendous time because their ‘correspondents’ seem to huddle in one large group outside both of our houses, just waiting to pounce. I’ve had Gabe to help me in and out of the place, but they’ve remained cooped up, refusing to leave the safety of their home. It didn’t surprise me when a ‘For Sale’ sign was put up outside of their property yesterday.

  “What’s taking so long?!” I growl just as I glance at my phone, which is currently reading five minutes past twelve. “They said he was supposed to be out by midday!”

  “Patience, mini-Thomas!” Gabe replies, looking totally relaxed over the situation and leaning back against one of the tall Maple trees on the front lawn.

  My mother, who is going out of her way to be someone a fifties housewife would be proud of, wanted to come, even though she didn’t voice it. I could tell she was hoping for an invite, but I didn’t think that would be fair on my brother after what they did to him. She’s going to have to tread carefully with him, and even then, I’m not entirely sure he’ll want to listen. Dad, on the other hand, or ‘sperm donor’, as I now call him (which is less insulting than what Grant refers to him as) has maintained his distance, neither reaching out to me after my attack nor admitting fault when Grant’s innocence was proved. I suspect he knows it’s much too late to attempt building bridges, so took the coward’s way out and gave up altogether. Unfortunately, they made their beds and now they will have to lie in them.

  An eruption of voices comes from behind us, breaking me from my thoughts and prompting me to look up to the prison doors to finally see my brother exit the building. He’s wearing normal attire, is clean-shaven, and waving timidly towards the press. I freeze on the spot, not quite believing what is playing out right before my very own eyes.

  When he finally sees us, he immediately drops his bag on the spot before bombing over towards where we’re standing. I remain frozen, right up until Gabe steps up behind me and whispers in my ear, “Go!”

  With tears streaming down my face, my legs finally catch up with my brain, and I run as fast as I can towards him. We meet halfway with a soft collision, where he picks me up and swings me around in the air like I weigh nothing.

  “Millie!” he cries before resting me back onto the ground. “My God, Millie, I can’t even…I don’t know what to say!”

  “You don’t need to say anything,” I look at him properly for the first time, cupping his clean-shaven cheeks, just to make sure it’s really him. “Just promise never to leave me again!”

  “Never!” he says with a beaming grin, before looking over my shoulder towards Gabe, who is now sauntering up to us, looking almost a little shy to break up the tender moment between siblings. Little does he realize that I and, no doubt, Grant, see him as just as much of a brother to us. Grant releases one of his arms from me and draws his friend into the hug, telling him to ‘man up’ and enjoy the embrace. The reporters go a little crazy while we just take one another in for a few moments, and the sound of clicking cameras rings through my ears. I couldn’t care less at this point. This is my home.

  Bowie

  Three days after Grant’s release, Sam finally breaks me down and convinces me to sit with her to watch the recorded copy. When it first aired, I didn’t want her to see it. In fact, I’m still a little dubious over her watching it now being that she’s feeling so fragile. However, I get why she wants to, and perhaps why she needs to. I know she’s desperate to try and come to terms with all that has happened in her own head.

  To be honest, I’ve also been putting it off for my sake because I know I’ll see Millie and I couldn’t face it just yet. It felt like I was in mourning, which mom thought was ‘cute’, seeing as I’ve never cared about a girl enough to worry about a breakup. Apparently, this is how normal people feel when a relationship with someone they actually have feelings for falls apart. She’s tried her hardest to cheer us both up, but in the end, she had to accept that she has a household full of moody, angry, depressed, adult kids.

  Sighing over the thought of how painful this is going to be, I sit down in front of the TV, with Sam clutching hold of my hand for support. She’s biting her nails on her free hand when the prison comes into view on the fifty-inch plasma screen, and I already feel like I want to run away from it all. Sam’s eyes are glazed over, and I can tell it’s going to be like opening up a dam when she eventually sees him. I can’t promise I won’t be the same when I see Millie, especially when she sets eyes on her brother for the first time. But I’m trying to keep it together for Sam’s sake, as well as for my own sense of pride.

  The reporter starts spouting off about how Grant ended up in prison, simplifying everything down to facts and figures, with Sam wincing all the way through it. However, as soon as the camera focuses in on Grant exiting the building, Sam lets it all out in one long howl, squeezing my hand until my fingers turn blue. If she let me have it back, I would throw an arm around her shoulders to comfort her. I suppose if my pain helps her more, I guess my job is done.

  “Oh God,” she sobs, “look at him!” I do look at him and I think about how hard it must have been for Millie to see her brother looking so…empty and lost. He was as cocky as I was before he went inside, so sure of himself, but looking at him now, I feel terrible for the guy.

  I watch Millie take a few moments before she can do anything but stare at him. In fact, it takes Gabe telling her to go before she lets herself run towards him. They both collide into hugs and sobs and the camera zooms in on their faces, voyeuristically intruding on their tender moment of reunion after being torn apart. This is why I didn’t want to watch it. My heart aches for her and I so desperately want to be the one taking her inside of my arms, being the one to support her after all the pain she’s had to endure fo
r no reason at all. Then there’s the guilt of knowing how awful I was when I found out she was still seeing him in prison. So much remorse, so much hurting, so much…shit!

  After all three of them have hugged one another for what seems like an age, Grant goes to retrieve his sorry-looking bag, and they head towards the line of reporters who all start yelling at him. He pretty much ignores their questions while Gabe helps Millie through the crowds and towards a car that’s already waiting for them.

  “Mr Thomas, how do you feel about your ex-girlfriend, the one who put you in here?” a guy yells and Grant suddenly freezes on the spot. Sam gasps at my side, squeezing my fingers that little bit tighter. My jaw is already clenched, my other hand balled into a fist, just waiting for the moment when I’ll switch the TV off to save my sister from any more heartache. It feels so intense, I barely hear the sound of someone knocking on the front door, or my Mom opening it for that matter.

  Grant turns to face the camera with a grim look of determination. He looks about as angry as I feel right now, which makes the reporters quieten down to listen to what he has to say.

 

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