Breaking Free

by SM Koz

  “We can go tomorrow night, the two of us.”

  “It’s just an hour.”

  “Kels, I don’t get it. What is it with this guy?”

  I groaned because I didn’t want to tell her the truth. I rarely kept anything from Jenna, but I knew she’d be against this plan. Sitting in the bathroom with her, trying to stand up for a guy who viewed relationships very differently from her wasn’t going to get me anywhere, though. I had to tell her the truth. It was my only option. “Sheila is on some kind of committee with his mom and she talks about what a wonderful boy he is and how I could never land a boyfriend like him.”

  “So we’re doing this to spite your stepmom who you hate?”

  “Yes.”

  She rolled her eyes and said, “As long as we’re clear on the motive. So what exactly is your plan?”

  “Make him think I’m the type of girl he wants so he comes over to the house a few times when Sheila’s there.”

  “Promise me you won’t sleep with him.”

  I crinkle up my nose. “Probably not.”

  Shaking her head, she grabs my hands and pulls me up from the toilet. “Why didn’t you just tell me this from the beginning?”

  “Because I knew you’d try to talk me out of it.”

  “Any chance I can do still do that?”

  I smiled and shook my head, knowing that I had gotten my way. We returned to the party and after everyone finished their drinks, we all headed to the beach. Jenna and I went alone in her Miata.

  We were last in the line of four cars as we traveled the windy roads of the country club, but lost everyone else as soon as we got to the exit. Jenna took our usual short cut to the 405 that runs along lesser used country roads and we assumed everyone else took the more common route. Despite not wanting to go, I could tell she was enjoying herself. We put the top down and blasted the radio while our hair whipped in the breeze. Then our favorite song came on. We belted out the lyrics and danced in our seats.

  Right as the chorus started, my bag fell to the floor. I leaned over to grab it, but when I sat back up, there were two bright lights headed straight towards us.

  “Jenna!” I screamed. She was looking in the rearview mirror at something. “Jenna! Car!”

  I grabbed the steering wheel and yanked as hard as I could. We swerved to the right, flew off the embankment, skidded sideways, and rammed into a tree.

  I don’t know how much time passed or what exactly happened, but my next memory is standing over Jenna’s body on the pavement. It was twenty feet from the mangled wreckage. The tips of her blond hair were crimson and my first thought was she had a really bad dye job. I smiled and imagined we’d get a good laugh about that later.

  When I knelt down, I realized the dye was more widespread. It formed a halo around her head like some sort of weird angel. I ran my fingers through it, smearing crimson lines towards me.

  “Jenna,” I whispered, my voice cracking, “I think you’re bleeding.”

  Her eyes were closed. I leaned closer. “Jenna, wake up. You might need to go to a doctor.”

  When she didn’t move, I touched her cheek. It was cool and sticky. Her bangs were covering her face, so I swept them to the side. “Jenna, you’re scaring me. Please wake up.” She still didn’t move.

  “Jenna?” I grabbed her shoulders and pulled her body towards me, gripping the back of her head. She felt like a doll. A lifeless piece of material that flopped in my arms. “Jenna?” I whispered, holding her tighter. “I’m scared.” I rocked our bodies back and forth like she was a child. “We don’t have to go to the beach. We can go home. We’ll put a movie in. Have a quiet night in.”

  I stroked her hair, but my fingers got tangled in the bloody tips. I pulled one hand free and rubbed my fingers together, smearing the red stain over my palm. “We need to go home. You have to wake up, okay?”

  All I wanted was things to be normal. I wanted to be back in my best friend’s bedroom, lying in bed, staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars on her ceiling, and gossiping about boys in our class.

  “Jenna?” I dropped my hand to her back. As soon as I did, her head fell backwards and her eyelids opened. Her unmoving eyes gazed straight up to the sky. Their glassy look triggered something in me. “No …” I whispered, pulling her head back to my chest. “No, Jenna. I need you. You can’t leave me!”

  Tears started trailing down my face and mixing with her blood on the pavement. “I need you!” I yelled, rocking our bodies. “I need you …” My voice was only a whimper by then.

  I’m not sure how long I sat there holding her, rocking our bodies, but eventually someone else showed up and then later two ambulances arrived. I didn’t understand why there were two until they put me in one and Jenna in the other.

  Over the next couple days, I stayed in the hospital as they monitored me for a concussion, pumped me full of pain killers for my cracked ribs, and gave me a sling for my dislocated shoulder. I hadn’t even realized I was injured after the crash. I don’t know if it was the effects of the alcohol or shock.

  My time in the hospital was also when I found out definitively that Jenna had died. She wasn’t wearing a seat belt and had been ejected from the car. Apparently she died on impact. The doctor said that like it was supposed to make me and her family feel better. As if anything could make us feel better.

  I had been selfish. Jenna didn’t want to go to the beach, but I made her. For a stupid reason, too. And that decision cost her her life. I’ll never be able to forgive myself.

  Chapter 9: August 24

  I feel a tear run down my cheek as the impending weight of guilt threatens to crush my chest. My breathing is labored against the weight. On the counter is the knife Marta used for lunch. I swallow and wonder how fast I can reach it. If I can get even one cut in, the weight will lessen. I’ll be able to breathe again.

  “Time for your afternoon meds, Kelsie.” In one swift movement, Marta lays the pills on the countertop and swoops the knife off the table, throwing it into the locked box on the counter where all our sharp items now reside.

  “I need that,” I pant.

  “No, you don’t.”

  I pull against the neck of my t-shirt. “I—I can’t breathe.”

  Marta circles around the island and wraps her strong arms around me, pulling my face to her chest. “Shhh … You’re fine. Slow breaths. In and out. In and out.”

  I do as she says, but the urge is overwhelming. I cry out in frustration but Marta only holds me tighter. “Take your pills, they’ll help.”

  I hate the pills. They make me forget. But if I can’t cut, I have no other choice. I frantically reach for the pile next to me and pop them in my mouth, swallowing them without water.

  At first nothing happens and I continue pulling at my thin t-shirt. It’s not tight, but it feels like a tourniquet wrapped around my heart.

  “Slow breaths. In and out,” Marta keeps repeating.

  I try to inhale deeply, but it hurts too much. I’m forced into quick, shallow breaths that leave me lightheaded.

  “Relax. Think about something that makes you happy.”

  I draw up images of things that used to make me happy—the beach, cheerleading with Jenna, watching the stars with JC—but they don’t work. They’re just more reminders of what I’ve lost. I gouge my palms into my eyes and cry out again.

  Marta begins humming something I don’t recognize. It’s slow, but peaceful. I focus on her voice. Quiet. Strong. Uplifting.

  She continues humming for a long while. I’m not entirely sure how long, but eventually, I start to feel better. My breathing becomes regular again. The pain dissipates. The urge to cut passes. When my muscles finally relax, she loosens her grip and looks into my eyes. “It’s not your fault.”

  I just shake my head. It is my fault. Not only Jenna’s death, but also what happened in the woods.

  *****

  About an hour later, I’m feeling numb again thanks to the meds. I turn JC’s journal over in my h
ands and wonder if I’m in the right state of mind to return to it. After what happened earlier, I’m a little hesitant, but I want to read his words. I want to feel him again.

  With a sigh, I open the cover and flip to where I left off. Hopefully Marta will help me again if I melt down once more.

  Day 4: Today was a nice day. The two highlights were learning how to fly fish and actually making Mal laugh. To be honest, “learning” might be an overstatement since I didn’t catch anything, but I do have the basics of the technique down. With another twenty-six days out here, I should have plenty of time to perfect it. It is true, though, Mal smiled and laughed today. I almost fell to the ground I was so surprised that her gruff exterior was crumbling. Something bad happened to her. I can tell by the way her eyes glaze over and I completely lose her as she focuses on something no one else can see. I know. I’ve been there.

  I hate Bling. The last two days, I’ve caught him staring at me numerous times with a confident sneer like he knows something I don’t. He screams “Crew” to me, but he can’t be. There’s no way they’d let someone from that gang be here with me. That was the whole reason I was sent to Wilderness Therapy. They wanted to put me far away from those intent on killing me.

  I draw in a sharp breath after reading the last sentence. JC was being hunted down by a gang? Was he involved in gang activity? I could see that from Bling, but not JC. He didn’t dress the part. He seemed too educated to be involved in something like that. Plus, he was just way too nice. Bling scared the shit out of me like gang members are supposed to. That wasn’t the case with JC.

  And why didn’t JC tell me he had fears of Bling? I told him all the time how frightened I was, but JC never indicated he was. Later in the trip, it was clear he didn’t like him, but I thought that all stemmed from the first accident.

  I shiver thinking about those accidents. JC was the most athletic guy out there so it never made sense how he was always the victim. Unless there was more to the story.

  With my happy pills on board, I close my eyes and remember the day of the first accident and how scared I was. It was also the first day I ever told anyone the truth.

  Chapter 10: July 24 (Day 6)

  We had almost finished our first week and were starting to get into a routine. Mornings were for chores and grunt work if you were unlucky enough to be assigned any, while afternoons consisted of various other activities like fly fishing, orienteering, or, my favorite, rock climbing lessons. We hadn’t actually climbed a rock yet, but Jason prepared us so that once we got to the right location, we’d be able to give it a try. We also had therapy sessions with Chris. Those I dreaded because she tried to force me to talk about my past when I spent all my energy trying to forget about it. I think she was disappointed by my lack of progress on that front, but I wasn’t about to open up.

  The morning of the sixth day, we had to pack up our gear and start hiking to a new location. We were supposed to do it two days earlier, but Chris’ carefully timed agenda had to be modified. It seemed she hadn’t accounted for Neeky’s delayed withdrawal symptoms due to his contraband. Even so, he was still in rough shape with enough sweat covering his head he looked like he just came out of the shower. That was before we had even started hiking. Plus, he had a headache. We all knew that because he told us every five minutes. At least I was no longer the one people hated. All it took was someone to be even more annoying and disagreeable than I was the first few days.

  I was fortunate we had a few extra days at the first campsite because it allowed my blisters to heal. I also opted to leave a few of my things in the storage container for the next group so my pack wouldn’t be so heavy. It pained me to discard my practically full tub of cucumber-avocado body scrub, but anything that weighed more than a few ounces had to go. I didn’t want to be the one slowing us down again. Plus, it wasn’t like anyone out there appreciated freshly buffed skin. Hell, they didn’t even appreciate basic hygiene like brushed hair or wearing more than one shirt per week.

  We walked in a single-file line with Chris at the front, followed by Bling, me, JC, Neeky, Mia, and Jason at the rear. Neeky and Mia had developed a bit of a friendship like me and JC, but by halfway through the hike I could see Neeky’s behavior even wearing on Mia.

  “I’m done!” he yelled. “How do you expect me to walk for miles when I feel like someone’s slicing my head open with an axe!”

  Chris stopped and turned around. “You should have thought of that before you started drinking. We delayed as long as we could. Now you have to face the consequences of your decision.”

  “Go to hell,” he said and fell to the ground, cradling his head in his hands. He’d regret that in the morning.

  “We’ll stop here for lunch.” Chris lowered her pack to the ground and removed energy bars and fruit, which she handed to everyone.

  When Neeky refused her offering, she said, “Eating will make you feel better.”

  “Nothing will make me feel better.”

  “Trust me, you’re not the first one I’ve seen going through this out here.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a white bottle. “Here’s some more aspirin, too.”

  That he accepted. After a few minutes, he also ripped into his energy bar and chomped on pieces while Mia tried to offer soothing commentary that only seemed to agitate him even more.

  “Am I going to need to carry your pack today?” JC asked, swallowing his last section of orange.

  “Please. There were extenuating circumstances last time.”

  “Extenuating circumstances? Like your foul mood?”

  “Ha, ha,” I replied, rolling my eyes.

  Rocking his shoulder into mine, he said, “It’s totally different to see someone else acting like that, huh?”

  I didn’t bother giving him an answer. After a few moments, he continued, “I was a little disappointed you got rid of all your lotions and potions. You know the only reason I hang around with you is because you’re the best smelling person out here.”

  I chuckled at his comment.

  “If you start smelling bad, I’m not sure our friendship will be necessary.”

  I smiled and said, “Don’t worry. I could roll around in bear poop all day and I’d still smell better than you. They do make a thing called deodorant. You should try it sometime.”

  He laughed. “Tried it. Didn’t work. Apparently it’s no match for a week without a shower.”

  I set my apple down and rummaged around in my pack.

  “What are you doing?” he asked, leaning over to tie his shoe.

  “Looking for something.” After a moment, I came up victorious with a small plastic bottle filled with purple liquid. JC was still looking at his feet, so I snuck the bottle behind his neck and pushed the pump. A fragrant mist coated his skin.

  His head snapped up, so I quickly applied three more squirts before he could stop me.

  “What the hell?” he asked with a laugh, grabbing the bottle from my hand and turning it around so he could see the label. “I’m going to smell like a girl!”

  “It’s jasmine. People will just think they’re sitting next to some flowers.”

  “But if I smell good, then I’ll have no use for you. Are you trying to get rid of your best friend?”

  His words erased the smile from my face.

  He didn’t know what happened, but he knew his words hit me hard. “I’m sorry,” he quickly whispered, dropping the bottle of body spray and grabbing my hands. “I’ll always be your friend.”

  I shook my head. “You can’t be my best friend. That spot’s taken.”

  “Of course it is. I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry.” He slid his hands up my arms and around my back. Pulling me close, he whispered, “Something happened to her, huh?”

  A tear rolled down my face and my body trembled with silent whimpers.

  “I’m here if you want to talk about it.”

  I wiped the moisture from my face, took a deep breath, and whispered what I hadn’t yet said to an
yone.

  “I killed her.”

  He held me at arms’ length, studying my face. Over his shoulder, I saw that Bling and Chris were much closer than I thought and probably overheard me. Bling looked impressed, which disgusted me. Chris offered me a reassuring smile that made me think she was proud. Why she’d be proud of me killing someone, I had no idea.

  “Okay, let’s get moving. We still have a ways to go before it gets dark,” Chris said, breaking the tension.

  We all gathered our things and got back in line. It was a quiet but tiring trek up a steep hill with lots of loose gravel. I welcomed the exertion as it kept my mind focused on the hike and not on other things. Neeky’s aspirin must have kicked in or else he was also working too hard to complain because he remained silent the whole time.

  After less than an hour, we reached a calm river where three canoes were waiting. We donned life jackets and then stood next to our respective boats.

  I watched from shore as JC slid into our canoe white-knuckled, murmuring something under his breath.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  “Not exactly a fan of water,” he said, still gripping the edges of the canoe.

  “What’s wrong with water?”

  “Oh, I don’t know … maybe the possibility of drowning.”

  “Don’t you know how to swim?”

  “Not really.”

  “Who doesn’t know how to swim? You didn’t learn as a kid?”

  “No, sorry, Mama was too busy holding down three jobs to put food on the table. She didn’t really have time or money to take me to some fancy country club for swim lessons.”

  “No need to make personal attacks. You’ve got a life jacket on. If you fall in, you’ll float.”

  “I’d prefer not to test the life-saving capability of this thing,” he said tugging on the straps of his life jacket.

  “Then don’t fall in.”

  “I don’t intend to.”

  “Then you have nothing to worry about.”