My Deliberate Mistake

by Claire Svendsen

  He’s behind me now, warm breath on my neck. I turn to face him, slipping my hands up under his shirt.

  “Is your job more important than me?” I ask.

  He answers by pressing his lips against mine.

  31.

  He’s gentle this time, like he’s afraid he might break me. Trailing light kisses over my flesh, his touch light as a feather. We lay on the bed, entwined in each other. The beat of my heart mixing with his, our fingers twisted together as he positions himself over me. His eyes search mine for permission. In answer I spread myself open for him and he enters slowly, holding me close like he’s afraid to let go. I clutch him as I start to feel alive again, warmth spreading down my legs until my toes clench. He kisses my neck, my lips, drinking me in. I’m lost in his eyes. In the way love and hope fill me like they’ve never done before. He shudders gently as he comes and I follow, pulling him deeper into me with a whimper.

  We’re still wrapped together when he whispers, “I love you.”

  “I love you too,” I say, burying my face in his shoulder.

  We sprawl across his bed, arms and legs twisted together so it’s hard to tell where he ends and I begin. He’s out like a light, snoring softly. I lie there watching him until I drift off too. I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy.

  It’s dawn when I finally wake. The first rays of milky light are trying to make their way through the rain. From the sound of things, the storm is still going strong. I reach out for Mark but he’s not there. The bed is empty.

  “Mark?” I call out softy.

  I’m still wiping sleep from my eyes when I see him standing by the French windows, kissing me. I must be asleep. I have to be dreaming because I’m staring at myself, standing there naked with my arms wrapped around Mark’s neck. He’s kissing me back with an urgency he didn’t have last night, his erection hard as his hands roam my body. He’s teasing my breasts with his mouth and my head is tipped back, laughing as I claw my nails across his chest. Then I bend over, ass teasing him as I hold onto the door handle, spreading my legs apart and coaxing him into me.

  I can’t tear my eyes away. It’s like watching myself in a porn film. I’m either having an out of body experience or this is the weirdest dream ever. Mark doesn’t seem to mind. It’s quick and dirty. He smacks my ass as he thrusts and grunts and I cry out for him to push harder. He does, his hands grabbing my breasts as our flesh slaps together. He’s pummeling faster, hands in my hair, pulling me against him as he comes. The force of his final thrust pushes me off my feet and into the doors. They fly open and we stumble outside. Laughing, I pull him close and kiss him with my tongue in his mouth.

  I watch in disbelief as I pull away from him and climb up onto the railing. He looks worried now, trying to pull me down as I throw my arms out into the wind. He’s trying to save me. I can see it in his face, etched into the lines of his mouth. He clambers up to grab me and as he reaches further than he should, he slips and I push him over the edge.

  32.

  I don’t know why I can’t wake up. I pinch myself, slap my own cheek but nothing happens except I feel the pain. I’m staring at myself standing out on the balcony in the pouring rain, wind whipping my hair.

  “Wake up,” I scream. “Wake up. Wake up. Wake up.”

  The naked me steps back into the room, shaking the water from her hair and grabbing Mark’s dressing gown. She wraps it around herself, then she smiles at me and with that one look my whole world collapses.

  “You really thought you were dreaming? God, Ana. You always were so stupid.”

  I know now what I should have all along. Julia has found a body to go with her voice. She’s killed Mark and I just sat there and let her. She throws her arms wide and spins around, hair flying out and splattering rain drops everywhere. I feel sick, lean over the side of the bed and vomit until I’m left retching with nothing more to come up. A dream? How could I be so stupid? But maybe, just maybe he’s all right.

  I dash from the bed, shoving Julia out of the way. Run to the balcony and look over. Three floors up doesn’t seem like much but leaning over I feel sick again. I can’t see the ground through the tree limbs and leaves. I can’t see him down there.

  “Mark,” I scream. “Mark.”

  “Looks like the shit has hit the fan now.” She sits down on the bed, legs crossed. “You knew I’d never let you fall in love. You should have listened to me.”

  “Why are you doing this to me?”

  “Why do you think Ana? Because you killed me, that’s why.”

  “Mark,” I scream again, hysterically.

  “He can’t hear you. He’s dead. It’s too bad because he was a great lay. I can see why you couldn’t wait to jump his bones.”

  I know she’s taunting me so I waste precious time. I pull on one of Mark’s t-shirts and the scrub pants, grabbing his cell phone as I run from the room. I’m dialing 911 and running down the stairs. I have to get an ambulance. Mark can’t be dead, I won’t let him die. But the call won’t go through, nothing is happening. I run past Norma in the hall, barely even seeing her.

  “Why are you screaming? What’s wrong?” she shouts.

  I don’t answer. Bolting into the rain, the wind nearly knocks me off my feet but I don’t even care. I stumble past downed tree limbs and broken roof tiles, screaming his name over and over. Then I see him lying face down in a pile of leaves, crumpled and naked.

  “Mark? Oh God, Mark.”

  I cradle his head, turning him gently. His leg is twisted at a funny angle and his body is battered where he hit the tree branches on the way down. But that couldn’t kill him, could it? I try and feel a pulse, my fingers slick on his wet skin. Hold my face next to his to see if he’s still breathing but I can’t tell.

  “What the hell happened?”

  Norma has followed me. She’s holding on to the trunk of a tree to stop the wind gusts from blowing her off her feet.

  “Get help,” I say. “We have to help him.”

  But she just stands there, looking down at Mark’s smashed body with a look of horror on her face.

  “Please,” I scream. “Get someone to help us.”

  “Okay. Okay.” I finally get through to her and she runs back inside.

  “Please don’t die,” I whisper. “Please don’t die.”

  33.

  Lights flash across us in the dull dawn. I look up, shielding my eyes from the rain, and see Noah’s truck barreling down the drive. He jumps out and comes running over, Charlie jumping round his heels in excitement.

  “What are you doing here?” I say.

  Noah looks from Mark’s battered, naked body to my shaking one. He runs back to the truck and grabs Charlie’s dog blanket, throwing it over Mark before putting his jacket around my shoulders.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” I say, even though I’m still crying. “We have to get him to the hospital.”

  “We can’t,” Noah shakes his head.

  “But your truck,” I scream. “We have to get him out of here.”

  He puts his hand on my shoulder but I flinch away from his touch. I only want Mark, nobody else.

  “A tree came down behind me as I drove in. It’s blocking the exit,” he looks from Mark to me. “Ana, there is no way out. We’re trapped.”

  “Call an ambulance,” I cry.

  “There is no signal.”

  “No. This can’t be happening.”

  “It’ll be okay Ana,” he puts his hand on my shoulder. “Don’t worry. We’ll get out of this. I’ll make sure of it.”

  “But what about Mark?” I sob.

  Before he can answer, Norma comes back with a bunch of people. Mike and another guy carry an old door awkwardly between them.

  “We can use this as a stretcher,” Norma says. “Mike and Carl found it in the back. It’ll work, won’t it?”

  I look up at her with bleary eyes. Her words, tossed about by the wind, mean nothing to me. She might as well be speaking
a foreign language. We can’t put Mark on a door. We have to get him to the hospital. He needs proper medical care and he needs it now. Without it I know he’ll die. I shake my head.

  “Sorry Ana, but it’s the best we could do,” she shouts. “We have to get him back inside.”

  I look desperately at Noah, needing him to take charge with his no nonsense cowboy logic. I need him to fix this.

  “It'll have to do,” he says.

  They place the door on the wet ground next to Mark, feet squelching in the puddles of rain. I don’t want them to move him or touch him. I hold onto his head but Noah gently pulls me out of the way.

  “Come on,” he says softly. “Let us help him.”

  Mike helps Noah position the door closer to Mark.

  “Some summer school huh?” he says. “This shit isn’t what I signed up for.”

  Natalie hovers in the background crying. “Me either,” she says. “I want to go home.”

  I hate her. Hate that she’s being weak when I’m the one who loves Mark. That she’s trying to make this about her when I’m the one losing everything.

  “Well you can't,” I snap. “You’re stuck here like the rest of us so just shut up about it all ready.”

  “Come on,” Noah says. “On the count of three we'll slide him over.”

  They slide Mark onto the door, his wet body slipping easily on the wood. He groans and opens his eyes for a moment, those beautiful eyes that gazed with love at my naked body now blank with pain and fear. They roll back in his head and he's gone again. The guys lift the door like a stretcher.

  “Where are we going?” I ask.

  “Let's move him into the kitchen,” Noah says. “There's a pantry with no windows. It'll be safe. No glass.”

  Once inside we move slowly through the hall. The large tables and statues get in the way and at one point I think he's going to get stuck, turning into the kitchen. I don’t know how we make it but we do. There is a table in the pantry loaded with tins and bags of food. I push it all on the floor and they slide the makeshift stretcher onto it.

  “Now what?” Mike says.

  “Don’t we have a first aid kit around here somewhere?”

  I look at Norma pleadingly, even though I know there’s nothing in the first aid kit that is going to save Mark. His skin has turned a sallow yellow and I can see the veins blue and thin beneath it. Deep down I think I know he’s going to die but it hasn’t really hit me yet. I want to cry and scream like Natalie but I have to be strong for Mark.

  “There must be one around here somewhere,” Noah says. “Come on.”

  “I’m not leaving him,” I grab Mark’s cold hand.

  “Okay,” Noah says. “We’ll take turns. Ana, you stay with him while we look for the kit.”

  “Alone?” Norma says. “That’s not safe, is it? Shouldn’t we stay in pairs or something?”

  “I’ll be fine,” I tell her. “Honestly.”

  She doesn’t look convinced.

  “I’ll be fine,” I shout again. “He’s not dead yet.”

  “All right, Ana,” Noah says calmly. “Let’s not lose it right now.”

  “But she just got back from the hospital last night.”

  Norma looks at me and I glare back. She’d better not say anything else. No one is going to stop me from being with Mark. I owe him that. I owe him everything. I’d give up my life for him if I could. Trade places so I’m the one laying on the table. But I know that’s not what Julia wants. She needs to hurt me and this is how she’s done it. Killing me would be far too easy. This is payback.

  “Honestly Norma, I’m fine. Go get the first aid kit. I’ll be alright.”

  “If you say so,” she says.

  I know she doesn’t believe me.

  34.

  They finally leave me alone with Mark. Norma goes for first aid supplies, Mike is going to try and find a way out. He’s convinced there must be another exit but the high wall surrounding the place like a concentration camp makes that scenario unlikely. No wonder they considered turning the place into a mental hospital. No escape for the patients. No escape for any of us.

  Noah’s gone to look for tools, a chainsaw they can use to cut and move the giant tree that blocks our only way out. From the size of the trees on the property I know even if he finds one, it will take far too long to cut through the wood and move it. Anyway, it's not safe out there while the storm is still raging, tossing around wood and metal like kites. I can hear the wind and rain through the walls. It’s angry and it’s not going to stop trying to get to us.

  Mark’s breath is shallow but he's still alive. I brush a stray strand of hair from his face and he flinches at my touch. His skin is cold and damp.

  “You're going to be fine,” I whisper. “I won't let you die.”

  I remember lying in his arms, feeling safe and loved. Feeling whole. His kisses trailing heat over my skin. I should have pushed him away. Told him I didn’t want him. I never should have let myself fall in love.

  There's a rustling noise out in the kitchen. I peek out the door to see if it's Norma but no one is there. Then I hear it again, louder this time. It sounds like crawling and shuffling. Like a large, hairy rat that has gnawed its way in to shelter from the storm and is now making its way across the kitchen. I hate rats, all those sharp teeth and scratching claws. A shiver runs down my spine as I look out but the kitchen is empty. I turn to go back but I hear it again, louder than before. This time it sounds like something far worse than a rat.

  I slam the door to the pantry shut and lean against it, heart pounding. The door has a flimsy lock. The only thing keeping us from whatever is out there is my body weight smashing against the frail wood. It’s only meant to keep out bugs and hungry kids, not giant rats and evil things that scratch in the darkness.

  “We'll be okay,” I tell Mark.

  At the sound of my voice he opens his eyes. I forget all about the scratching, slithering noise and dash to his side. I grab his hand and hold tight, hoping I can anchor him to this world through sheer will power.

  “Mark? Can you hear me?”

  He looks up, his eyes wide and pupils black. He gulps a few times and opens his mouth but no sound comes out.

  “You're going to be fine. Don’t try to talk.”

  But his lips form words I can't hear. I lay my head against his face, ear as close to his mouth as I dare without smothering him. At first I hear nothing, then a jagged whisper escapes his mouth.

  “Why did you do this to me?”

  35.

  There’s not a lot you can say when someone accuses you of killing them. Of course there is the obvious, a loud declaration of your innocence. But how can I defend myself when I know what Mark saw? Julia made herself real. She made herself me. How am I supposed to fight an identical ghost?

  There used to be many photographs of us wearing matching clothes. The ugly blue dresses with the lace collars when we were two. The fuzzy snowmen sweaters when we were three. The white sundresses with the rainbow waistbands we were both meant to drown in. You couldn’t tell us apart except for the little scar I had on my hand, the one I got when Julia shoved me down onto a pile of broken glass. There are more scars now and those photographs are long gone. But Mark doesn’t know any of this. I never told him about my twin and my past. The horrible thing I did and how she makes me pay for that mistake every day. I hold his hand, refusing to let go.

  “I didn’t do this. I swear to you I didn’t do this and I’ll make it right. I promise.”

  Tears roll down my cheeks but I brush them away. I can’t fall apart now. Mark needs me. There’s still scratching outside in the kitchen. Something evil waiting out there. I have to protect him. Feeling like a hypocrite, I close my eyes and start to pray.

  “I know I don’t deserve saving, my life is evidence of that but Mark does. Take me instead. Let him live.”

  I repeat the mantra over and over but the scratching just gets louder until it sounds less like scratching and mo
re like knocking.

  “Ana. Let me in.”

  It’s her. Not only has my prayer not worked, it’s brought me the one thing I’m trying to get rid of.

  “What kind of a God are you?” I shout at the ceiling.

  “Now Ana Banana, is that anyway to talk to your higher power?”

  “Shut up. Go away.”

  “Let me in.”

  “No. Fuck off.”

  I’m hiding behind Mark like his dying body can somehow protect me, scared of this person the voice in my head has become. The constant whispering in my ear that used to drive me crazy? This is so much worse.

  “Well, guess what?” she sounds happy. “Guess what Ana?”

  I don’t answer.

  “I don’t need you to let me in.”

  My eyes are closed but I hear her coming anyway, passing through the wood like nails on a chalk board. I’m trapped in a room that has no windows with my dying lover and my dead sister. What I wouldn’t give for a cyanide capsule right about now.

  36.

  “Still using sarcasm as a defense mechanism I see. That’s not very fair to poor old Matt here, is it?” she says.

  “It’s Mark,” I snap, opening my eyes.

  There she stands, smiling at me. The Julia who pushed Mark over the railing was the adult version but the one in front of me now is the twelve year old. The white dress she’s wearing the same one she died in. Her face is fresh and beautiful, eyes sparkling green as she jumps up and down.

  “Come on Ana, let’s play.”

  She holds out her hand but I shrink back. It wasn’t that long ago she was a lake drenched face in the window and before that she was a constant bee in my brain. She’s brought me nothing but pain. I don’t want to touch her.

  “Let’s play, let’s play, let’s play.”

  She skips around me, singing.

  “Why are you doing this to me?” I slap my hands over my ears but it doesn’t shut her out.