Tortured Whispers

by Danielle James

  “So, you wanna figure out how we can be together in the face of society and say fuck all the rules?” Caesar asked, squeezing me.

  “Yeah, of course. I’m scared though.” My throat grew tight thinking about anyone trying to tear Caesar and me apart.

  “It’s okay. We’ll be smart. We’ll keep everything between these four walls. When it’s time to make moves, we will.” I nodded at him then tried not to mention the other thing that had been on my mind constantly. I tried to lie in his arms and drift off to sleep but thoughts have a way of digging their hooks in and not letting go.

  “What’s wrong, Brook?” He asked, pushing out a heavy sigh.

  “Nothing,” I whispered.

  “You’re lying,” he whispered back. My skin sang when his fingers slid along my sides. I let my eyes flutter shut while I absorbed the tingling.

  “I’m thinking about something,” I admitted.

  “What is it?”

  I cleared my throat trying to make the thick knot inside budge but it wouldn’t. My thoughts demanded to be heard. “What if we decide to have a baby, Cease? What if it’s not okay?”

  He sighed softly and slid his huge hands down to my stomach. Just one of his hands covered my midsection it seemed. “When we’re ready for babies, they’ll be fine. Okay? Don’t worry about that shit. The chances of our kid having any issues are the same as any other couple,” he assured me.

  “But…I thought…” I stammered while he kissed my temple.

  “Stop worrying, Brook.” He placed his lips on my neck and a sense of calm washed over me. He was magic for my jittery soul.

  **

  When Monday rolled around, I felt like having a tantrum. I legit wanted to kick my feet and whine and pout. I’d spent all weekend being lazy with Cease. We watched movies and ate everything in the house we could get our hands on. Oh, and the sex…oh my god.

  I had more orgasms than hairs on my head. Caesar made sure any uncertainty I had was gone. I just wished it could continue forever. It gave me a taste of what it would be like to be with him all the time.

  I knew I’d have to talk to Ashley when I got to school and honestly I wasn’t looking forward to it. Once I was sober, I realized that she was nowhere to be found when that asshole at the party was harassing me. She was nowhere to be found when I was getting drunk when I shouldn’t have been.

  “Hey, I’ll see you this evening, okay? You don’t have your session with Ronnie, so if you want to hang out with Ashley…I guess you can. Not too long though,” Cease said with a point of his long finger.

  “So parental,” I laughed.

  “Yeah, yeah. I’m looking out for you and you know it. She makes me uneasy.”

  “I know, Cease. She was a shitty friend at the pawty on Fwiday. I’m gonna talk to her today at school.”

  “You nervous?” he frowned.

  “Yeah, how’d you know?” I quizzed.

  “Your R’s started to slip.”

  I frowned when he pointed it out, but it was true and I heard it. I’d been doing so much better with my speech apraxia but I still slipped when I was emotional. Sometimes my brain was firing faster than my mouth wanted to work.

  “I heard it,” I nodded.

  “You gonna be okay today, Brook?”

  “Yes, Caesar. See? I’m fine.” I flashed him a smile and grabbed my book bag.

  “I love you,” he said before I hit the door.

  “I love you too,” I told him, scrunching up my nose. I leaned in for a kiss and he pressed the softest one to my lips. I could go to school a happy girl after that. I was happy a lot more often than I’d ever been in the past.

  Well, shit in the past, I wasn’t happy at all. Now, I was able to laugh more and look at myself in the mirror without cringing.

  I had a lot of sad moments, mainly when I was thinking about my father but none of them brought on the water. I was thankful. I never thought I’d be grateful for being sad. I’d be grateful for anything if it meant I wouldn’t have to deal with the drowning.

  **

  When I got to school, I saw Ashley at her locker and I was pretty sure she tried to call out to me but I was too nervous to stop and talk. I’d never had a friend before, so having to confront a friend about something they did that I didn’t like was well outside of my comfort zone.

  I had to remember what my father said though. I had to step outside of my comfort zone if I wanted to get anything done. I made a mental note to talk to her after school. That way I’d have the entire day to work myself up to it.

  I should have gotten it out of the way early in the morning though. Thinking about it during all of my classes made me sick with worry. When lunchtime came, I hid away in the corner near the front of the cafeteria hoping Ashley didn’t see me and try to come over. I didn’t even eat anything. I couldn’t tell if it was remnants from being drunk Friday night, or nerves but my stomach was immensely queasy.

  My throat seemed to get tighter and my mouth drier with each passing class until the bell rang for the end of the day. I pushed out a deep breath and shut my eyes for a moment while I stood at my locker.

  You can do this, Brooklyn.

  You’re brave like a lion and Dad would be so fucking proud.

  “Brookie, can we talk?” Ashley’s voice came from behind my locker. I closed the door and smiled at her.

  “Yeah, we really need to,” I sighed. Looking into her doe eyes made me nauseous but I steadied myself. We moved into the parking lot and slowed at my car. “Ashley, Fwiday at your pawty there was this annoying fuckboy that wouldn’t leave me alone. I looked around but you weren’t there. I was getting shitfaced awound people I didn’t know and anything could have happened. It would have been nice if you at least checked on me.”

  Ashley’s brows furrowed and I saw a flash of something in her eyes. In the next moment, I was concentrating on trying not to throw up all over the parking lot. My stomach was doing backflips though.

  I couldn’t hear anything Ashley was saying because my spine involuntarily curled forward and I let everything go all over the asphalt. “Oh my god, Brookie,” Ashley jumped back and slapped her hand over her mouth.

  Once I stood upright, I clutched my stomach and leaned against the car. I hated the taste in my mouth. I fished around in my book bag for a bottle of water. It tasted like heaven.

  “Let me come to your house so I can fix you toast and play in your hair to make it up to you. I’m sorry I was a shitty friend.” She held my shaky hand in hers and pled to me with her eyes. “Come on, Brookie. I’m teaching you how to have a friend. Friends let friends apologize for doing fucked up shit.”

  I sniffled and tucked wispy hairs behind my ear. I gave Ashley a nod. I watched the smile spread across her face and a glint flash in her eyes. “This will be fun,” she said. “I’ve never been to your house before. You always come hang out at mine. I’m excited.” She squealed a little bit and clapped her hands.

  We got in our separate cars and I drove ahead so she could follow me. I couldn’t shake the nausea the entire time I drove. I wanted to get home as soon as humanly possible.

  When I pulled into the driveway a sigh escaped me. Before I went into the house, I sent Cease a text.

  Me: Feeling shitty again today. Ashley is gonna come over and sit with me for a while.

  Cease: Is it your stomach again?

  Me: Yeah. Kinda threw up at school in the parking lot. So sexy, I know.

  Cease: I’ll be home early with tea and crackers. Don’t let her stay long.

  Me: Okay. Love you.

  Cease: Love you too, Kiddo.

  Me:

  Cease:

  I got out and sucked in a quick breath to steady my nerves and my stomach. I led Ashley inside and showed her where the kitchen was. “I’m gonna change clothes and lie down,” I told her while she puttered around in the kitchen.

  “Okay, Brookie. I’ll bring you some toast,” she chirped.

  I went into the bedroom and chan
ged out of my school clothes into a long-sleeved shirt and a pair of denim shorts. Before I could clean off the bed and move my unicorn journal, another wave of nausea hit and I dashed into the bathroom.

  I hovered over the toilet and let everything come flying out again. My head pounded relentlessly and I let out a soft moan as I sat on the cool floor. “Brookie, you in here?” Ashley called from outside the bathroom door.

  “Just a minute,” I replied, holding my stomach. Ashley let out a giggle and it sent me hurtling back to ninth grade. It was wrong. Just like it was back then.

  “Okay guys, I’m finally fucking live. Let’s do this. I told all my followers that in a couple months I would have a super lit Live Stream the Loser challenge and look where I’m at…” Ashley let out an excited squeal and I felt my lungs constrict. Something was wrong.

  Why was she in the bedroom saying stuff like that? I stood up and tried to quell the wobbling of my legs. My knees were useless though. “I’m at loser headquarters and I think I stumbled upon the fucking mother load. Look at this pathetic ass journal.” My ears rang when I heard her mention my journal.

  I’d been writing in it ever since Cease suggested I do it to help my anxiety. It was filled with my emotions for him and how deeply I was in love with him. It detailed the first time we had sex too. It was a chronicle of our entire relationship.

  When I opened the bathroom door and peered into the bedroom, Ashley was holding her phone, live streaming the pages of my journal to everyone. If I hadn’t thrown up everything in my stomach already, I would have been sick.

  “Oh, guys, look who it is. The loser herself, retarded fucking Brookie. Aww, look at her. She’s so damn clueless. And to think, I had to pretend to be this bitch’s friend for so long. I could feel my brain turning retarded every time I had to talk to her.”

  Tears blurred my vision and I tried to blink them away but they kept coming. “Look at this sick shit in her journal. Oh. My. God. Brookie are you screwing your hot uncle? Eww. You’re going to reproduce and have little retard babies,” she laughed maniacally with her head tipped back.

  Flames of shame licked at my face. I tried to grab the journal from her evil hands but she dodged me and continued reading the pages out loud. One after the other. My private thoughts were ripped to shreds. Exposed.

  “Oh, and guess the fuck what? Brookie here is a cutter. She’s the ultimate loser.” Ashley reached in her pocket and pulled out something small in a rectangular box. I couldn’t make it out because my tears were constant.

  “P-Please, Ashley. We’re supposed to be fwiends,” I begged in a soft whisper. My stomach was in a million knots and it felt like I was slipping down into the water faster than ever.

  “Fwiends? We were supposed to be fweinds, Brookie?” She mocked me with loud laughter before turning the phone around so she could record me. “Say hi to the loser.” I caught a glimpse of her screen and saw the number of live viewers climbing into the eight hundreds.

  Water filled my lungs and my mouth popped open. I gasped but more water rushed in. “Here, Brookie. I got you a present since I know you like to cut.” She pried my hand open while I stood paralyzed by fear and anxiety and placed the small box in my palm.

  My chest squeezed and it felt like my heart was beating in my ears. “Ashley, don’t do this,” I felt my lips moving and I knew what I was trying to say but I didn’t know if it came out right.

  “Holy fuck you’re such a sick bitch, Brookie. Are you guys reading this journal? Take screenshots. This shit is fucking gold.” She turned to me and grinned. “Open your gift, retard. It’s a pwesent,” she mocked me with a sharp laugh.

  I looked down at my palm and began opening the plain white box. “N-N-No…” I stammered staring down at the shiny new razors in my hand.

  “Y-Y-Yes. I knew after this you’d want to kill yourself. So, go ahead. This’ll be the biggest Live Stream the Loser challenge ever. I’m going viral with this shit.” She blew a kiss to the phone then turned her stare to me. “Kill yourself. I mean, get it out of the way now. You’re fucking your uncle and isn’t he a doctor? Oh, sweetie. His life is ruined. So is yours.

  He’s gonna go to jail for a long time for fucking you. He’ll have his license to practice pulled and everyone will know how disgusting you both are. You? You’re going to jail too.

  So, make the world a better place and slit those ugly little wrists of yours. Now.” Her words hit me like daggers with poisoned tips. She was live and everyone could see my journal. Everyone knew my deepest secret.

  I’d somehow managed to ruin Caesar’s entire fucking life without even doing anything. I was that much of a failure. There was no way he would still love me after this. Even if he did, they would snatch us away from each other.

  How was I supposed to survive jail?

  How was I supposed to survive life if I didn’t have Caesar?

  “Oh shit, look guys…” Ashley turned the phone around and pointed at me with laughter bouncing off the walls. I looked down to see urine racing down my thighs. The number of live viewers had jumped to the thousand mark.

  I couldn’t breathe.

  The water was too much.

  I was drowning.

  “Kill your fucking self, Brooklyn. You’re trash and people like you don’t deserve to live. I’m sure that’s what killed your father, isn’t it? He found out you were banging his brother and it made him have a fucking heart attack. Because being dead is better than having a disgusting retard for a kid.” Ashley reared her head back and blew a mouthful of spit that landed on my cheek.

  With hands nearly too shaky to perform, I dumped the box of razors out and fumbled around for one. I needed to breathe. I had to cut.

  I know I promised Cease but…everything was too much. Besides, he’d hate me once I cut again. He’d hate me once he found out I was stupid enough to let Ashley into our house and expose our love.

  He’d hate me.

  He’d get ripped away from me and I’d never be happy again. I’d never have peace again.

  All I wanted was a friend and I was too stupid to even have that. The promise of relief that the razor brought was so welcoming. Razors had been my only friends anyway.

  The ache in my chest spread to my shoulders and my spine. Suddenly the weight of the world was too heavy and gravity pulled me to the floor. Everything was spinning. Nothing stood still.

  My own heart was spinning and beating wildly out of tune, making it impossible to breathe.

  Cut, Brooklyn.

  “Kill yourself, loser,” Ashley chanted. Her voice sounded so far away. I’d slipped into the water. I’d slipped into a trance.

  I yanked my sleeves back and stared at all the scars littering my arms. “Yes! She’s gonna do it, guys. Look!”

  All the scars. So ugly and fucking stupid. Just like me.

  I pierced my skin and moaned from the pain. I was tired of being a fuck up. I couldn’t live knowing I ruined Caesar after everything he’d done for me. He deserved better than me. I was just a fuck up anyway.

  With a steel grip on the razor, I let out a choked and garbled sound as I dragged the blade straight down, going deeper than I’d ever gone before.

  Vertically.

  Bright red surged out and I stared at it for a moment before moving to the other arm. I needed to make sure there was no coming back. Fuck ups didn’t deserve second chances.

  So I sliced straight down my other arm too. I slid down on the floor while blood pumped with each beat of my sluggish heart. I could breathe again but I didn’t want to. Not anymore.

  I couldn’t tell which was warmer, my tears or my blood.

  “Fuck…oh my god. She did it. She really did it. There’s way too much blood. I gotta get the fuck out of here.” I heard the thumping of footsteps running away then nothing.

  My hands were slick and sticky and crimson dropped from my fingertips. It wouldn’t be long before I finally let the water win the war. It could have me. I was done fighting.

>   A sob choked my throat as I lie bleeding out. Not for myself though. I thought of Cease. He would find me.

  My arms were like cement as I reached up to my hair. I could barely move but I made sure I pulled out my hair tie before blackness stole me away.

  Caesar liked my hair down.

  **

  Caesar…

  A car that I’m guessing was Ashley’s ripped past me as I pulled into the driveway. Alarms sounded in my head once I saw the front door wide open and didn’t see Brooklyn standing there waiting for me.

  She always waited for me.

  I barely remember throwing the car in park before I was scrambling toward the house. My chest was weighed down with a heavy, unrelenting sense of dread. Nothing about the air in the house seemed okay.

  “Brook!” I shouted. “Brooklyn!” I ran straight into our room and my world shattered into a million pieces. A sour taste invaded my mouth as I dropped to my knees.

  My sweet girl.

  She was covered in blood. Her wrists were shredded…vertically. She cut to kill.

  But why?

  I cradled her body in my arms and called 911 before I let the first sound out of my mouth. She was still warm. I felt the slow thump of a pulse. I didn’t have time to waste.

  Once I knew an ambulance was on the way, dizziness swarmed me and hot tears bit my eyes. “Brooklyn, don’t leave me. Please,” I begged. My voice was thick with regret that I wasn’t there for her when she needed me most. “Brook! Please! Don’t you fucking die!” I pressed her frail body against mine as if I could gift her my heart so she could live instead of me.

  My entire body felt too heavy to breathe or move or speak.

  I willed time to speed up while I held her.

  I looked around in sheer panic, trying to find something to apply pressure to her wrists with. Her lips were turning blue and warmth was leaving her rapidly. My teeth chattered as I reached over my head onto the bed and grabbed for something. Anyfuckingthing.