Losing Leah

by Tiffany King

He chuckled. “Sorry. One monster that’s really not a monster. The point is, no, I don’t think you’re crazy. As a matter of fact, you might be the sanest person I know. I’m more worried about what could be physically wrong inside that skull of yours.”

  I dropped my head onto his shoulder. “So, you do think my brain is malfunctioning?” I asked, wondering if he could be right. Maybe this was all some elaborate hallucination my brain had conjured up because of a tumor that was slowly devouring my brain.

  “I don’t know, sis, but I think you should tell our parental units. If you don’t, I will. It’s one thing to keep something like bad grades or whatever from them, but this is something completely different.”

  I sighed. I knew he was right. It was something I probably should have done two months ago when the darkness first started following me. It just wasn’t the kind of information I liked to share with them. Usually our conversations revolved around my accomplishments at school. We never discussed anything negative, and if we did, Jacob would step in and change the subject.

  “I’ll tell them. Not now though, okay?”

  He cocked an eyebrow at me. “When?”

  “Soon. Let’s get through the holidays first. Christmas is only a few days away.”

  He didn’t argue, but he looked unsettled, like he wanted to continue pressing me. I knew he’d honor my wishes. Holidays were tough in our house. The first year after Leah was taken, we didn’t even celebrate. Christmas came and went without a tree, lights, Santa Claus, or presents. Jacob, of course, took matters into his own hands. He snuck into my room early that Christmas morning and left me a small present on my bed. It was his favorite Green Lantern ring. The ring he had gotten the previous Christmas when we were all still a complete family. He loved that ring. I tried to give it back, but he wouldn’t take it. He told me the ring would protect me. Taking his words to heart, I slid the ring on my finger. It was too big, but I still almost believed I could feel its power. I wondered what Jacob would say if he knew I still slept with it under my pillow.

  12

  LEAH

  I NOW hated the dark, despised it for betraying me. For so long I loved it. I had come to truly think of it as a friend. I knew it made no sense. It was one thing to regard an inanimate object as a friend, like my doll, Daisy, but a whole other to give that title to something without substance, like the absence of light. I no longer cared. The darkness and I had an agreement and now it was no longer helping me. It was everywhere, and yet it refused to comfort me in the slightest or even let in the smallest traces of light.

  I’d lost track of how long it had been since Mother came to check on me. I was weak from hunger and my throat was as rough as sandpaper. I even stopped daydreaming about food. My desire was gone. Everything inside me had started to give up. My body was broken and I was dying. I knew it with every fiber inside me. Why Mother had saved me so long ago only to let me rot away was beyond me. The urge I had felt to apologize had passed along with any feelings of rage. I just wanted death to hurry.

  I curled up into a ball around the chain that bound me to the bed. It was the only comfortable position that allowed me some measure of warmth. The basement wasn’t freezing, but the temperatures had dropped recently and my thin blanket was no longer sufficient.

  I kept my head tucked under my arm with my eyes tightly closed. Sleep needed to be under my terms. It was silly, but it felt good to have a small measure of control. I wondered if this is what it felt like to be delirious. It wouldn’t be that big of a stretch considering what I was going through. Sleep crept up on me to the point where I could no longer resist. My last coherent thought before falling under was of Mia. For years, I believed I would one day see her again, but I now realized that had been a dream. Mia and I would be forever separated.

  13

  MIA

  JACOB RELUCTANTLY agreed, although under extreme protest, to wait until after Christmas to tell Mom and Dad the truth. Of course, I neglected to tell him that things were escalating.

  The darkness was becoming more consuming, tormenting me everywhere I turned. Ignoring it at school had become damn near impossible; it had managed to fracture every relationship I had. My grades were all slipping and Christmas break was my only chance of catching up.

  Jacob must have sensed how I was feeling, or maybe he was as scared as I was. The day after I spilled my guts to him, he woke up at the crack of dawn, hell-bent on torturing me. Before I could fully open my eyes, he dragged me from bed telling me to get my ass in gear, that we were wasting the day away. I was hustled out of the house with hardly enough time to pull jeans and a sweatshirt on. Let alone make my hair presentable.

  “Jacob, the point of Christmas break is to sleep in,” I griped as he shoved me in the passenger seat of his car. “Where are we going anyway?”

  He excitedly pulled out of our driveway before I could finish buckling my seat belt. “You’ll see,” he answered, shooting me a wink.

  “There better be coffee,” I grumbled. “And doughnuts.” I dragged my hair up into a messy bun on top of my head. Tendrils of hair escaped the bun, but I gave them no notice, tucking them behind my ear. My jaw clicked as I yawned widely. I was exhausted. I’d been up half the night keeping a watchful eye on the dark shadow that had taken up permanent residence in my room. The moment I closed my eyes, they would spring back open to find that the oppressive shadow seemed to have expanded just a little bit more. I was terrified about what would happen when it no longer had anywhere left to go. What would happen then?

  A cold sweat broke out across my forehead. My hands became clammy and my heart thumped painfully in my chest. I inhaled and exhaled, trying to calm myself down, pushing the thoughts back. Instead I focused on the road ahead of us and not the sight I was sure I would see if I turned to look behind me. It would be there, following us. It was always there.

  Jacob’s secret destination turned out to be a tree farm. A very sad tree farm. It was in the parking lot of a dying mall. Half the retail stores had abandoned the shopping center years ago, leaving it with a disarray of shops that seemed to change every few months. Judging by the slim pickings, waiting until two days before Christmas was not the ideal time to be out buying a tree. These trees were better suited for kindling than holding ornaments.

  “A Christmas tree, Jacob?” I questioned, following behind him slowly. We hadn’t had a tree since Leah. Hell, I wasn’t sure we even had decorations anymore. “I’m not sure…” My voice trailed off as I eyed the pitiful selection around us.

  “Yes, a Christmas tree,” he responded, rubbing his hands together with determination. “It’s time we start acting like a damn family and I don’t care if that starts with just you and me. We’re going to walk this lot and pick out a tree. Even if it’s a sorry-ass tree,” he added, lifting up a wilted limb of a tree that dragged along the ground. “And then we’re going to take it home and decorate it. We’re going to string so many fucking lights on our tree that this darkness asshole you’ve been seeing won’t be able to touch it.” His teeth clanked together as I threw myself in his arms, hugging him hard. My unexpected display of affection startled us both.

  We weren’t huggers as a rule but at that moment it didn’t matter. Ten years of lost affection were made up for in one instant as I conveyed what his words meant to me. I’d been all alone in an ocean of turbulent water for so long. It was as if someone had suddenly thrown me a life preserver. Jacob was that life preserver. He returned the hug without shame. Neither of us cared that we were in the middle of some crappy mall parking lot, standing in the center of a dying tree farm. For that brief moment we weren’t a broken family. We were a unit. Jacob and I.

  The sound of someone clearing their throat broke the moment. I turned to see an older man wearing a straw hat and dirty overalls watching us with appreciation. “Can I help you?” he croaked. The sound of his voice suggested that he had spent the better part of the last fifty years inhaling two packs of cigarettes a day.

  �
��We’re here to get a tree,” Jacob replied.

  “Figured as much. But I was about to ask if you two wanted a room?” he said, raising his eyebrows at us suggestively.

  I wrinkled up my nose. “Eww, no.” Gross. Okay, no more hugging in public.

  Jacob’s face turned pale and then green before answering. “Really, dude? She’s my sister,” he said with disgust, stalking off to look for a tree. I could still hear him grumbling two rows over.

  “Not my place to judge,” the old man wheezed as he shuffled off.

  Not sure if I should gag or laugh, I trailed after Jacob in search of the perfect tree that needed a home. This would be our Charlie Brown moment.

  An hour later we were pulling back in our driveway with the least saddest tree we could find strapped to the roof of Jacob’s car and a bagful of Christmas lights.

  “What are you going to tell Mom and Dad about the tree?” I asked. Together Jacob and I undid the ropes that we’d used to bind the tree to the roof.

  “You mean ‘if’ they ask?”

  “Good point.” Chances were Mom and Dad wouldn’t care either way. A part of me hoped they would. Even if it made them feel something, even if it made them sad, or even if it made them spitting mad. Anything was better than the constant nothing.

  Jacob hoisted the tree easily onto his shoulder. I carried the bag of lights, ignoring the nagging feeling that I was being followed. Constantly followed.

  It took most of the morning and early afternoon to decorate the tree. Jacob continued with his onslaught of cheer. He was jovial and loud and had Christmas music playing in the background as if he had researched how to be festive. He kept up a constant stream of forced conversation and trivial questions that led to mindless rabbit-hole discussions. He never gave my brain a chance to dwell on my problems. What he hadn’t counted on though were the memories that assailed us both as we dug through the ornaments. Ten years of forgotten memories slugged us in our chests with the force of a jackhammer. We weren’t prepared to see the ornaments from a different lifetime. By the time we were done both of us had tears in our eyes.

  When we finished the tree was no longer empty. Jacob bent down to plug in the lights. He made an exaggerated drumroll noise with his lips before switching the lights on. We stood back to survey our work. Jacob was definitely right, the tree was bright—it lit up half of the room. The only problem was it still wasn’t enough, and we both knew it. Maybe it would never be enough. The darkness Jacob had worked so hard to get me to forget was still there waiting for me in the shadows.

  14

  LEAH

  THE LIGHT flickered on, making my eyes burn. I pulled the blanket tighter around my face, but it was a weak shield. The light was unrelenting. I had wanted it so badly after being left in the dark for days. Now the light flooded the room, making my head spin. I couldn’t remember why I thought I had missed it.

  My senses, which had been cut off so abruptly, felt overwhelmed. The sound of footsteps on the stairs pounded like they were walking on my own head. If my weakened voice would only work I would beg the noise to stop. I curled up tighter in my cocoon. Whether Mother had forgiven me no longer mattered. I wanted this life no more.

  I could hear Mother’s voice over the buzzing in my head. She was singing to me like she used to when I had first come to live with her. Years ago her crooning had given me comfort; now it was poison to my ears. I was a void, an empty vessel.

  She tugged at my arm, but I made no movement in response. The shackle around my wrist clicked open and dropped to the floor. My arm fell listlessly to the bed.

  “My poor baby is so weak,” Mother clucked, smoothing her hand across my forehead. My head lulled to the side, insensitive to her affection. “It’s okay. Mother will take care of you. First, I need to clean you. Don’t worry. I’m not mad that you soiled your clothes. You’ve been a sick girl.”

  My eyes remained closed and unresponsive. I did not flinch. I did not move. I was dying. Mother had to know that. Would she be sad when I was gone? My thoughts became muddled. I had just woken up and yet still felt that I could drift off into a deep slumber.

  The sound of running water jerked me awake. How much time had passed? I had no idea. Reality and dreamland had become one and the same.

  “Drink,” Mother said, appearing at my side with a cup of water. If I would have been stronger maybe I would have flinched, but my reflexes were as weak as the rest of my body.

  The cool cup touched my lips, but they refused to part. My body was no longer thirsty. Couldn’t she see that? I was gone.

  “If you don’t drink, I’ll have to hook you up to an IV.”

  I watched her with dreary eyes, giving no reply.

  She sighed and rose from the bed. “Fine. We’ll have to do this the tough way. I will not let you die because you refuse to drink. You are mine. I have no intention of letting you go.”

  Her words floated in the air between us as the significance of their meaning hit me like a bolt of lightning. The buzzing in my head intensified, drowning out the sound of her footsteps as she walked upstairs. She was wrong. My body had already given up. My mind yearned for peace. She could not take that from me.

  I willed myself to move. My limbs protested, but I forced them to cooperate. With legs like limp noodles, I rose to my feet, fighting the dizziness that came from being upright for the first time in days. I sagged against the wall, breathing heavily. Time was of the essence. Using the wall for support, I forced my feet to move. My steps were sluggish, with a strong urge to stop. I ignored them. They could give up when I got to my destination.

  Somehow I made it to the stairs. My intention had been to climb them, but their height was daunting before my eyes. I would not make it to the top before she returned. I knew it without a shadow of a doubt. There was no place to hide. I reached for the only hope I had. My hand hesitantly closed around it. I was not strong enough for this. Mother would not allow it.

  Her footsteps were nearing the stairs. It wasn’t too late to return to bed. My body wanted to sag to the floor as indecision filled my head. Down the steps she came. Tap. Tap. Tap. I tightened my grip, worried that I would fall. Her foot reached the last step.

  I could see the surprise on her face as she rounded the doorway, only to be replaced by shock as I swung the strap. The very strap that had battered and bruised my body for years. The hardened, brass-plated buckle that was fastened at the end of the heavy-duty leather strap caught Mother across the temple. I should have felt remorse when she crumpled to the floor. I had done the unthinkable, and yet I felt nothing as I stepped over her body.

  Soon it would be over.

  All I had to do was get up the stairs.

  Each step was taller than the last. I gripped the railing hard in my hand, using every bit of strength my body would muster to pull myself up. The open door was within sight, but so far away at the same time. It had always remained closed and there it was open, taunting me. Mother believed I was too weak to leave her. Little did she know I would find the strength. I just needed to make it to the top. My legs shook from exertion, but they kept working, allowing me to crest yet another step and bringing me closer. I could hear the first stirrings of movement behind me. I needed to hurry. It took two attempts for my foot to clear the last step.

  I could hear Mother on the steps behind me. She was angry. My punishment would be severe if she caught me. It didn’t matter. I lunged forward into the kitchen I had only seen one other time. The room was nothing like the prison I had spent the last ten years locked in. Bright with sunlight, it gave me hope that I would get to see the sun one last time. Joy filled my heart, filling me with adrenaline. I couldn’t stop now. Mother was seconds away. With a sudden surge of strength, I slammed the basement door closed and engaged the locks as she crested the last step. My window of opportunity would be short. Mother had keys. She would unlock the door and crush the very last bit of existence I had left.

  I stumbled toward the front door, fighting o
ff the relentless fatigue in my muscles. I was so close. My hand closed around the doorknob, but when I turned, nothing happened. “No, please!” I screamed, hearing Mother coming through the basement door. My hands shook feverishly, fumbling with the locks until finally I was able to pull it open.

  Sunlight bathed my face, immediately blinding my vision. I waited for the pain that I was sure would come. It would be a welcome ending. I tripped down a small set of steps, barely staying upright if not for the porch rail. I still couldn’t see. The end was close. Soon I would sink into the darkness once and for all.

  “Leah, stop!” Mother shouted behind me, but she was too late. I stumbled out to the road where the sun’s rays reflected off the black asphalt like a beacon. I was almost home. My body ached more than it ever had before and I wondered if it was the sun already killing me.

  I heard the sound of screeching tires and cars crashing together. My body hit the pavement like a rag doll, but I felt nothing. A sea of yelling voices surrounded me. Horns and sirens swelled inside my ears. The sounds jumbled together like white noise. I opened my arms, welcoming my old friend, the darkness. The voices continued to pull at my senses, intrusive and annoying. I wanted to swat them away like pesky insects, but my arms were leaden. Then I remembered Mother. Where was she? I could feel my body moving and I opened my mouth to protest. I did not want to go back to the basement. I couldn’t go back.

  “It’s okay, honey. We got you,” said an unfamiliar voice as I was lifted onto a bed. I could feel the bed moving beneath me, followed by the shrill sound of a siren. Unexpected terror filled me. I had been through this before, not knowing where I was going, what was happening. “We’re going to give you something for the pain,” the same soothing voice spoke again. “You’re safe now.”

  I shook my head. There was no pain. I felt nothing. What was safe? Did she know the sun had harmed me? I couldn’t make sense of anything that was being said.