“Snooping? HA!” He holds up the drugs and razors. “I ran out of Claritin and thought I’d just grab one from your medicine cabinet.” Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he gazes at me with concern and anger. “How long have you had my old pain meds?”
“A while.”
“Those will not take your pain away and they dang sure won’t make your problems go away.” Thaddeus turns my hands over, inspecting my wrists. “Are you cutting?”
“No, those razors were a backup incase the Oxycodone didn’t do the job.” That’s a lie but I refuse to let him know this secret too. After he told me that he had only read the first journal entry, I took my notebook and hid it in a box in the back of my closet.
Eryc gasps at my confession and I glance over Thaddeus’s shoulder to meet Eryc’s stare. Pain and concern are evident on his face but there is no sign of disgust or judgement.
At my confession, anger flashes in Thaddeus’s icy-blue eyes and he throws the contents on the floor at my feet and again points his finger in my face. “You will tell him. If I were you, I’d get started before I bring down your journal. And I am bringing down your journal.”
“Don’t you dare.” But really, he has no idea that I hid it or where to look, so I have nothing to worry about.
Thaddeus’s grip on me is firm yet gentle. “Sis, you’re in trouble.” He points to the two items at my feet, the items that I had hidden for that moment when I finally found the courage to end my life. “Tonight, we bring your secrets out into the open. I’ll be damned if I sit back and watch you continue to deteriorate.”
“Kay?” Eryc’s voice wavers and I force myself to meet his gaze. He looks from me to the pills and razors then back to me. “Please talk to me.”
Thaddeus squeezes my hand. “I’ll be back with your journal.”
It’s over. There is no point in hiding anymore. If I don’t confess, Thaddeus will tear the house apart searching for my journal, so I nod. Confession time has arrived, whether I’m ready or not. The fact is, if I don’t let Eryc in on my secret, then Thaddeus will tell him everything, journal or no journal.
I release a breath and tell my brother where to find my journal. “It’s in my closet in that box where I keep my photo albums.”
Letting out another breath, I motion for Eryc to follow me back to the living room. Fear makes me nauseous with every step I take. I am so scared that after I divulge all my secrets Eryc will not want to be my friend any longer.
I fear that he will avoid me like the plague.
When we enter the living room, Rene is sitting on the sofa. She smiles when she sees me and pats the cushion next to her.
Feeling guilty for the way I treated her earlier, I apologize. Waving off the apology, she pulls me into her side and hugs me.
Eryc sits on the coffee table in front of me, his knees touching mine. Cupping my face in his hands, he peers into my eyes. “Please talk to me.”
Bare footsteps slap on the hardwood floor and Thaddeus hands me the notebook. My journal. With fresh tears flooding my eyes and clouding my vision, I hand my notebook to Eryc.
“It’s all in there.” I stand because I can’t be near him while he reads my deepest, darkest secrets. “But I can’t watch you read it.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Eryc
I’m not sure what to expect from Makayla’s journal but her and Thaddeus want me to read it. So here I am, sitting on the coffee table with her journal in my hand.
Its awkward opening up Makayla’s notebook to read her private thoughts. This is like an invasion of privacy, but they want me to read the words written within so that is exactly what I am doing.
Exhaling a long breath, I open the notebook and begin reading Makayla’s private moments.
July 4th
I’ve never been one to keep a diary. Writing about yourself in a notebook for your eyes only just seems juvenile. It seems silly. But here I am, writing in this stupid notebook, getting ready to bear my soul.
Tonight, started out fabulous. Thaddeus and I met up with Heather at Lake Keystone. A bunch of us were there. Brandt was there.
Brandt. I’ve had a crush on him since Freshman year, so I was ecstatic to see him at the party. This was going to be a fantastic night. Or so I had hoped.
Brandt brought the fireworks, Kurt brought the alcohol, and someone else brought the pot.
I’m not sure how much I drank but I do know there was some Jack Daniels involved. Sometime during the night, Thaddeus and Heather disappeared and Brandt was sitting with me on the tailgate of Kurt’s truck.
I was like “Brandt-freaking-Taylor is talking to me”. This was my dream come true.
Or not.
Never in a million years would I have thought this, but Brandt turned out to be my nightmare from hell.
He convinced me to sit in his car so we could talk in peace without having to yell above the music and fireworks. And of course, I went because my biggest crush wanted to talk to me. There was no way I couldn’t not go.
We talked, and we shared a joint.
I don’t remember how we got there, but we ended up on the other side of the lake, away from our friends. It was just us and an open field. He started kissing me. I admit, I loved it…until he slipped his hand under my shirt.
I asked him to stop because I wasn’t ready for a step like that, I mean, we weren’t even dating yet. Instead of stopping he only progressed. This was way out of my league and it made me uncomfortable. I asked him again to stop but he ignored me and soon I resorted to begging. I even managed to get out of his hold and was able to get out of the car.
Brandt got out after me and apologized profusely. I accepted the apology and we sat on the hood of his car and continued to talk. As soon as I started to feel comfortable again and began to relax, he leaned over toward me and started kissing me again.
It was okay until he started kissing me roughly. At that point, I asked him to stop but he just raised my shirt like I hadn’t spoken.
I pushed against his chest and asked him to take me back to the party.
Do you know what his response was? He said, “Come on, baby.” Licking and kissing my neck, he acted like I was playing a game with him. “You know you want me.”
No, Brandt, if I had wanted you then I wouldn’t have asked you to stop. So, I threatened to scream. You know what he said?
“Go ahead and scream, no one can hear you.” Really, Brandt? You’re a real gem, you know that?
I have never felt more humiliated in my life. At that point, I knew there was nothing I could do to stop this madness. My phone was inside his car and he had me pinned down to the hood. So, I did the only thing I could, I stared at the moon and let him pull my pants down and have his way with me.
When he was done, he refastened my pants, thanked me, and then he kissed my cheek. What? Who does that? Apparently, Brandt does. After that he drove us back to the party. In front of everyone, he draped his arm over my shoulders, like we were now a couple, and carried on like nothing had happened.
Thaddeus never noticed the tear streaks on my face. That’s okay, I didn’t want him to see my pain anyway. I don’t want my brother to know because Thad would kill him if he found out.
Home sweet home. You would think I’d feel safe here but I don’t. My heart was shattered tonight. My spirit is now broken. The first thing I did was run to the shower to wash Brandt’s scent off me. No amount of scrubbing helped. Even as I write this, I can still smell him on me.
What did I just read? Seriously, what-the-ever-loving-frack is this crap? Brandt Taylor, a rapist? I think I’m going to be sick.
I turn the page.
July 7th
Kurt called Thaddeus to invite us over for another party. Honestly, I didn’t want to go. What if Brandt would be there. Thaddeus was stoked and Heather wanted me there so I agreed. I mean, we’ve been partying together since Freshman year, if I bailed it would look weird.
Oklahoma summers are summers from
hell. The heat is enough to melt the makeup right off your face. Heather helped me decide on an outfit suitable for this 110° weather.
As usual, Kurt’s house was packed. Heather took me by the arm and headed straight for the backyard. The pool was full of splashing teens, beer cans littered the poolside, and the patio had been cleared of outdoor furniture to make room for dancing.
Justin Timberlake blasted from the speakers. Nothing can get me movin’ like JT, that’s for sure. Heather and I danced for several songs, and I felt normal.
Normal! Brandt, you may not realize this but that night, three nights ago, you ruined me.
And apparently that dreaded night was just the beginning.
Tonight, when you stepped out into the backyard, your eyes instantly zeroed in on me dancing with Heather. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched you grab a beer from the ice chest and then you came toward me. I tried to ignore you, hoping you’d get the hint and walk away. You didn’t. You came up behind me and tugged my back flush against your front and started dancing with me.
Eventually, Thaddeus dragged Heather away and your arm snaked around my waist, turning me to face you. You held me like you owned me. Let’s get this straight, Brandt, you do not own me.
Beyoncé played and you swayed our bodies to the beat. You told me how much you enjoyed our night together and how you’ve thought about me nonstop since then. You told me how pretty I am. You even said that you wish you could marry me. Really, Brandt? Marriage? You don’t know me from Adam.
You’re quite the charmer, I’ll give you that.
I must have drunk more alcohol than I realized because, like a numskull, I followed you into the house. You, Lee, and Vince talked me into playing a game of pool downstairs in the game room. Lee suggested I get the break shot and I surprised myself when two solids fell into pockets at opposite corners of the table.
Just when I started to fully relax, you were behind me, grabbing my butt. You said, “Dang, girl, you look sexy as hell in these shorts.”
When I set the cue stick down and started to walk away, you apologized. You begged me to stay. To assure you got your way, you told me that I made you feel alive. That you couldn’t survive this life without me. Playing on my emotions, you informed me of your mother’s verbal abuse and your father’s physical abuse.
I felt horrible for you and you saw it written all over my face. Then, to push me right over the edge, you said, “Makayla, you’re my safe haven. The only thing in this world that makes me feel whole.”
YOU MADE ME FEEL GUILTY FOR WANTING TO LEAVE.
It was that guilt weighing on me that overrode my rational thinking. Like a dimwitted fool, I stayed. You draped your arm over my shoulder and smiled. Then, like before, you started kissing my neck.
At this point, I knew where this was leading so I did what I needed to in order to NOT feel. I found a focal point, a poster of dogs playing pool, and zoned out while you bent me over the pool table and took what you wanted from me.
When it was over and I was pulling up my pants, I noticed that Lee and Vince were still in the room, watching. Is this what you guys get off on, watching a girl being taken advantage of? And yes, I realize that I didn’t fight you off, Brandt, but you have to understand that in this situation when I felt guilty, felt sorry for you, I just gave in to what I knew you wanted, myself be damned.
God, what is wrong with me?
I close the notebook, I can’t read anymore. This is sick. It’s beyond sick. Lee and Vince are just as guilty as Brandt for this crime. You do not make a girl feel obligated to have sex with you. Unless she declares that she wants to have sex with you, you don’t take it. Lying beneath you, unresponsive, is not a yes. In my book that is rape.
The contents in my stomach churn, threatening to make an appearance on the living room floor. I do not understand this kind of evil. Standing from the coffee table, I take to pacing.
Inhaling a deep breath, I open the notebook and turn the page.
July 8th
Same crap, different day.
Next page is the same and so are the two afterward.
July 15th
I hate my life.
There is a whole two weeks between this entry and the next.
July 29th
Why doesn’t this end? Yeah, I know what you’re thinking. I keep bringing this upon myself. I have the choice to say no, to get away. It’s not that easy when Brandt constantly makes me feel guilty for his parents’ abusive behavior.
Brandt, why do you keep pressuring me into having sex with you? I know you can see that I’m just a shell of the girl I used to be.
The next entry is nearly a week before the first day of school. This is the reason Makayla has been withdrawn? I’m not sure how much more of this I can read. I already want to kill Brandt.
August 5th
Vince, why did you watch and do nothing? You just sat there, watching with wild fascination.
Brandt, why did you feel the need to share me? After you were done, you rolled off of me and stroked my hair. You shushed me and said, “Makayla, you’re amazing.” You sang along to a Bryan Adams song, still stroking my hair, while Lee had a turn.
I guess the question I should be asking is, why in the world am I still going to these stupid parties?
I’m so screwed up.
Thad, I love you. Never doubt that. You are my only solid rock. Please don’t hate me. I know you’re going to be mad, but please forgive me. I just can’t take it anymore. I need to find peace.
What does that mean?
I still have that bottle of Oxycodone that was prescribed to you when you had your motorcycle accident, the one you never finished taking. I’m going to swallow the entire bottle and step into the shower to await the darkness. I’m ready for the angel of death to take me home.
Please tell Eryc that I’m sorry for being the B word to him these last few years.
Mom, I’m sorry. I just can’t deal with my fractured life anymore. Please know that I love you.
A freaking suicide note, is that what this is? That explains the pills and razors Thaddeus threw on the floor earlier.
August 6th
Well, as you can see, I chickened out. The reason? Hell.
I’m not a religious person but I did go to Sunday school as a kid and heard the whole fire and brimstone teaching.
When I dumped the Oxycodone in my hand I thought about hell. I wondered if suicide was a direct pass into hell. You know, like a ‘go to hell, go directly to hell, do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars’. If hell is real, I don’t want to burn for eternity.
Thank God. I can’t imagine a life without Makayla in it.
August 10th
Well, I’m still here. I haven’t partied since that night a week ago. I still look longingly at the bottle of pills and my box of razors but the idea of hell still scares the ever-living-hell out of me.
I hated going to school today. Everyone stared at me and whispered when I entered the room.
Then there was Eryc. He was the only one that didn’t whisper behind my back. Some might say I’m being paranoid but I can’t shake the feeling that they’re all laughing at me, calling me a whore behind my back. Being at school is like being tossed in a shark tank with an opened wound.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Makayla
Watching Eryc pace while reading my private thoughts is making me dizzy. On top of that, his facial expression is giving nothing away. Is he angry with me? Disgusted with me? Not knowing what he is thinking is slowly eating away at me. He is my one true friend and I do not want to lose that.
Not counting my mom and Thaddeus, Eryc is the one good thing in my life.
Closing the notebook, Eryc tosses it onto the coffee table and rakes his hands through his hair. “I don’t even know what to say, Kay.”
Rene has been watching her nephew this whole time, wearing a curious expression. Now that the notebook has been tossed onto the coffee table, she picks it up
and starts thumbing through it. It doesn’t take her long to get the gist of what is written on the pages and she tosses it back onto the coffee table.
I knew it, Eryc hates me now. It will be bye-bye friendship and hello loneliness. “You hate me now, don’t you?”
Swiveling on his heel, Eryc gives me a look of disbelief and then rushes to my side. By now, I’m sitting back on the sofa, holding Rene’s hand. Pushing the notebook out of his way, he sits on the coffee table and takes both my hands in his. I fix my gaze on his large hands, calloused over from years of weightlifting and football playing.
“Look at me, Kay.”
I obey and am surprised by the compassion I see shining back at me.
“I could never hate you.” Pointing toward the notebook that is now teetering on the edge of the coffee table, he says, “That was not your fault. Don’t you dare believe otherwise. What Brandt did was wrong on so many levels.”
Relief washes over me. My friend is not going to abandon me. Until now, I’m not sure I realized how much I have come to depend on him. A sob wracks my body and Eryc gathers me into his arms. All my pent-up emotions break free and I cry, releasing all the anger, shame, and humiliating pain I have been carrying since July 4th.
The sound of a motorcycle racing down the road brings on a new set of guilty tears. My brother is hurting and I haven’t been there for him. My brother appears tough on surface but I sense the pain he is hiding. The pain he has been drowning in whiskey for the past few weeks. How could I have been so absorbed in my own suffering to be blind to the depth of his?
“Shhh, I’ve got you, Kay.” Eryc scoots forward and wraps his arms around me, rubbing circles on my back with just enough pressure to soothe. “I’m here.” Kissing the top of my head, he rocks us back and forth. “I’m not going anywhere. You don’t have to do this alone.”
Something about his words bring comfort to me. An indescribable peace begins to wash over me, silencing my sobs. Now that my secrets have been revealed, the weight on my shoulders has been lifted. I relax in his arms and welcome the all-consuming darkness, also known as sleep.
Pieces of Me Page 10