The Resurrection of Aubrey Miller

by L. B. Simmons

  “She’s okay. Quiet. She did make up with Sabrina though.” Kaeleb’s irritated expression reflects my own inner dissatisfaction with this development.

  “I know,” I concede. “I think it’s just easier for her right now to forgive and forget. Evidently there are some deep-rooted ties there that she doesn’t want to mess with…family stuff, you know?” I explain, not that I really understand it.

  A harsh grunt next to me tells me he feels the same way.

  “I’ll try to get her to come to breakfast tomorrow,” I add.

  Kaeleb nods before grinning back at me. “Have you seen Sabrina or Candace? You know, since…”

  The corner of my mouth lifts, still extremely self-satisfied with my cereal vengeance. “No, but I’m sure I will, unfortunately.”

  “Sign me up for that shit.”

  I chuckle under my breath as we continue walking, cutting across the lawn together, the fresh cut grass clinging to my Docs. A bitter gust of wind and the reddish hue of the leaves remind me that fall is ending and that we will be heading into winter soon. Even with the sun shining, it’s getting a bit chilly. As an involuntary shiver rakes over my entire body, Kaeleb throws me a sideways glance. I really should have grabbed my jacket. This old worn-out concert tee isn’t cutting it.

  Kaeleb stops mid-stride and shrugs his backpack and leather bomber jacket onto the ground, leaving him in a heather grey hoodie that reads JUST HIT IT across his chest in block letters above an infamous Nike swoosh. After regrettably reading his delusion of grandeur, a smirk crosses my face. “Get a lot of dates wearing that do ya?”

  “I get a lot of dates no matter what I’m wearing.” His lips twitch as he attempts to maintain a serious face. He’s become quite the ladies’ man since school started. It’s no surprise really. Kaeleb oozes sexy from every pore in his body.

  Not that I pay attention.

  “Right. Highly-regarded, self-respecting women no doubt,” I respond, the barbell of my black eyebrow lifting in annoyance.

  His straight face breaks with smug laughter. “Hey, it’s college. I’m not trying to be a saint.”

  “Well, you’re definitely on your way to Dating Hell. I’m just waiting on you to get that one, clingy, cries-when-you-don’t-call, psycho-stalker girl. Sign me up for that shit.”

  With yet another laugh, he reaches down and grips the leather jacket in his hand before stepping closer to me and extending his arm, graciously offering his outermost layer for me to wear. I can feel the residual heat from his body as I take it from him.

  “Oh! For me?” I yell with mock excitement, “Oh-em-geeeee! Kaeleb McMadden just gave me his jacket!” I make sure to fan my face for dramatic effect and watch as a group of girls passes us, their jaws dragging the ground. Rolling my eyes, I fight the urge to give them the finger, which seems to be my favorite form of communication with anyone that isn’t Quinn or Kaeleb these days. Well, Quinn anyway.

  A crooked smile forms on his face as he watches my fierce monologue, not a hint of embarrassment in his expression. “Did you just make a joke, Raven?”

  Cue middle finger.

  Another chuckle passes under his breath as I slip on the brown leather. “I thought you weren’t trying to be a saint. I would say that offering your jacket is pretty…saintly.” He grins and shrugs as I slowly take in his scent, the smell threatening the defenses of my Level 3 security. With the fresh cut grass all around me and the smell of his fresh laundry, the combination produces a familiar fragrance that just is Kaeleb. It’s almost enough to overwhelm the lock on my bin, but I must have mentally added a deadbolt because his access has luckily been denied.

  After exhaling a breath of relief, I give him the tiniest of smiles, situating myself in his jacket and then sliding my backpack over both shoulders as Kaeleb does the same. “I can be funny, you know.”

  “I know you’re funny,” he replies, his eyes finding the ground in front of us as we begin to walk.

  “You don’t know anything about me,” I snap, probably a little too defensively.

  “Don’t I?” He stops his long strides and, therefore, so do I. We’re never going to make it to class at this rate.

  I turn to tell him this, but as soon as our eyes meet the words escape me, his hazel-brown eyes stealing my breath. They’re narrowed, as if he’s trying to strip me clean of my blackened veil. Almost as though he’s searching my darkness.

  “No, you don’t,” I reply quickly.

  Fear works its way into my throat as he continues to scan me closely before tilting his head. “Hmm…interesting.” His hand rises and once again skims the scarred area alongside my chin. “I would say that I know you better than you think I do.”

  My brain jolts to life, sending out an emergency distress signal that more Level 3 memories, possibly even Level 4, may be breached. This is not good.

  I ignore the way his touch riles every single one of my nerve endings, and turn on my heel, offering him nothing more as I continue on to class. I can hear his backpack shuffling as he walks behind me, but thankfully he makes no attempt to catch up.

  Traveling the rest of the way separately, we finally arrive, barely making it to class on time. Once we’re accounted for, we make our way out to the fielded area where most of our exercises are performed, and as we begin to congregate, I strategically place as many people in between us as I can. I refuse to look at him, but his presence continues to suffocate me no matter how far away from him I stand.

  “Alrighty kids! We’re going to buddy up today.” A series of groans follow as Dr. Palmer begins calling out the corresponding names in groups of two. His pudgy finger taps up and down on top of his clipboard with each announcement.

  My heart rate triples, increasing the pressure in my chest. I always get paired up with Kaeleb. Every. Single. Time.

  “McMadden and Miller.”

  Sigh.

  I turn and hesitantly begin weaving my way through my brilliant protection plan.

  Damn my last name. I should have taken Linda’s.

  Squeezing by the only person left between us, my eyes stay focused on Kaeleb’s boots in front of me. Strands of black with my latest plum-accented coloring whip across my face, the breeze picking up and chilling me to the bone. Threading my fingers through my hair, I gather it together and tuck the heap behind my collar, then wrap Kaeleb’s jacket tightly around me, hoping to harbor some of the rapidly fading warmth.

  “You okay? You look more pale than usual.”

  Squinting, I lift my head and shield my hand with my eyes, finally locking gazes with Kaeleb.

  “I’m fine, just cold.”

  I’m also extremely short of breath and might be experiencing a mild heart attack, but I leave that unsaid.

  “Okay guys, it’s time to start.” A hush blankets the crowd of students as Dr. Palmer chucks his clipboard to the ground. “Today is going to be less physical and more of an emotional exercise.”

  Shit.

  “I need you and your partner to sit on the ground in front of one another.”

  Swallowing deeply, I attempt to calm my erratic breathing as I turn, finally facing Kaeleb and meeting his eyes briefly before slowly descending to the take my seat. His face remains expressionless as he makes his move to sit cross-legged on the grass in front of me, scooting closer until our knees are touching.

  “Now, please take each other’s hands. This is a time of trust and connecting with one another.”

  Fuck. Me.

  My eyes close on their own as I timidly reach forward. Every nerve ending becomes hypersensitive as the heat from his approaching hand surges over mine, emanating a spark that spreads throughout my body. It rushes along my arms, leaving behind goose bumps as it passes, causing the hairs to stand on end. Soon Kaeleb’s hand slides into mine, palm against palm as his fingers curl themselves, gripping me securely.

  “I like to call this the Bubble Exercise. As you hold onto your partner, imagine a bubble containing only the two of you, just you
and them, safely inside. Nothing can escape into the environment around you. This is your haven to speak freely. There is no judgment inside the bubble, only the release of something about yourself that you want to express. A secret of sorts. You may decide amongst yourselves who goes first. It is up to you what you choose to reveal to the other.”

  I clutch Kaeleb’s hands like a vise, my eyes shooting open only to find the face directly in front of me giving away absolutely nothing—completely void of emotion as he stares back at me. Palmer clasps his hands together, and his voice sends my heart into my throat with his next command.

  “Go.”

  It’s only then that I pick up on Kaeleb’s slight hesitation. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows slowly before clearing his throat. “Right. Well, I might as well go first since you look like you’re about to pass out.”

  My torso is hunched over my legs which are crossed in front of me, feet tucked under my thighs. My chest rises and falls with each rapid breath I take as panic streaks through my body at the thought of being forced to reveal even one of my closely kept secrets. Lord knows I have plenty of them.

  Still holding on to my hands, he begins to lean forward and doesn’t stop moving until he’s so close his nose is only centimeters away from mine.

  “I’ve got one that covers both of us,” he whispers softly. His eyes glide over my face, not stopping until they land on the one mark I wish he had never seen.

  A lopsided grin forms, then he brings his eyes back to meet mine. Tightening his grip around my hands, he presses off of his knees, moving forward until his heated cheek is flush with mine and his warm breaths tickle the shell of my ear. I hold my own breath as my heart ricochets off the back of my ribcage and listen as he whispers softly, “I know your secret, which in turn has been my secret…Bree.”

  I jerk back instantly, the previous pounding in my ears now bordering on excruciating.

  Bree.

  My fingers involuntarily shoot straight out, releasing me from his hold.

  It’s too much.

  Cold replaces warmth as the blood drains from my face, blackening my vision.

  I can’t breathe.

  Upon the passing of the name from his lips, my past and present collide, the explosion so fierce it blows the steel door wide open. For the first time in ten years, a Level 4 memory escapes its confines, leaving me spinning out of control as it steals my consciousness.

  “Bwee! Bwee!” My four-year-old baby sister Adley yells from across the house. “I’m cold!”

  Even though I’m only two years older than she is, I can do a lot of things that she can’t. So as I step toward the bathroom, I already know what she wants. Peeking my head inside, I watch her for a couple of minutes, her chubby body floppin’ around the bathtub like a fish when it’s out of water. With golden ringlets just like mine sticking to her face, she giggles when she sees me before pulling them away from her eyes. She really hates that.

  I can’t help but smile at her. I love her so much.

  “Bwee, can you turn on the hot watah? It’s cold,” she asks. Her light blue eyes beg me, causing crinkles to form on her forehead. I glance over my shoulder to look for Mommy, but I don’t see her anywhere.

  “Sure,” I answer and shrug my shoulders.

  The tile on the floor is cold under my feet as I walk to the bathtub and turn the knob with the letter “H” until the water flows. We just practiced writing “H” last week in school. I’m really good at that one.

  Holding my fingers under the water, I shoo her back with my other hand. Once it’s run a little bit, I turn the knob until the flow stops. Hot drops fall and I watch them closely until there are no more, making sure she doesn’t burn herself.

  Adley stands up, turning and placing her bare behind on the back edge of the tub, her eyes filled with excitement as she leans back and lets herself go. Water splashes over the side and onto the floor as she flies down her homemade slide.

  “Adley, you know what Mommy said. Don’t do that or you’re gonna hit your head on the bottom.” She just giggles and turns over and over in the water, her toys floating as they ride the waves all around her.

  She’s gonna get in trouble…again. But Mommy and Daddy won’t stay mad. She usually just does something really cute and then they laugh, forgetting why they were mad at her in the first place. She’s so lucky.

  Shaking my head, I leave the bathroom and her giggles behind. Mommy is in the living room on the phone, so I go to my room to play. This is the only time I don’t have to share my toys with her and I plan on using every minute.

  I pull out my favorite Barbie, the one I hid from Adley last week. Just as I take off her shiny pink dress, I hear Mommy scream. I’ve heard her scream before when she sees a spider or when she trips over one of our toys, but this…this was a different kind of scream.

  Dropping the doll to the floor, I hop up and yank my door open, running down the hall as fast as my feet can go. The sound of Mommy and Daddy yelling stops my legs from moving as I pass by the bathroom and my feet slide across the wood floor, almost coming out from underneath me as I skid to a stop.

  The door is barely cracked, so I press my face against the side and look through the opening. I watch Mommy running around the bathroom while Daddy pushes on Adley’s chest. He pinches her nose and then blows into her mouth, but nothing happens. Her cheeks puff out and I can’t help but think how much it reminds me of one of those fish that blow up like a balloon.

  Blood is on the floor under her head, the red so bright against the white tiles I can’t stop staring. Suddenly the door flies open wide, scaring me, and Mommy hits my shoulder as she runs out, but she doesn’t say anything. She’s crying as she runs to the phone on the couch. After she grabs it, I listen to her screaming and the fear in her voice gives me goose bumps.

  “She hit her head…Water…Not breathing…”

  I’m so scared. So scared, but I have to help. I’m a big girl. She needs me.

  The fog in the air makes it hard to breathe, but I step into the bathroom anyway. My feet slowly make their way to Adley, her naked body jiggling around while Daddy keeps pushing on her chest and blowing air into her mouth. Mommy’s voice is still loud in the background, but I can’t really focus on anything other than Adley’s pretty pink toenails that I just painted last night.

  Daddy stops and looks at me over his shoulder. His face is red and wet with his tears as he says, “My baby’s gone…my baby’s gone.”

  He no longer pushes on her chest, but scoops her into his arms and pulls her tightly against him as he cries and screams. Adley’s arms hang down and her hands drag across the tile as Daddy rocks her back and forth, brushing through her hair with his fingers like he always does. After one time through, his fingers are coated in blood.

  My baby is gone.

  My legs lose their strength and I fall to my knees as Daddy keeps crying and Mommy continues yelling in the living room.

  I can’t breathe.

  After a while, all the noise disappears. I don’t hear anything else as my eyes lock onto Adley’s, whose chin is resting on Daddy’s shoulder, her head moving back and forth with him as he rocks.

  Her blue eyes aren’t alive and happy anymore.

  They’re dead.

  She’s dead.

  Daddy stops. He looks back through the door and then lets Adley’s body go, placing his hand flat on her chest as he lays her on the floor. Her blonde hair is streaked with red and her lips are blue.

  My throat is tight as I watch Daddy cover her with a towel before he goes, leaving me alone with her. I try to stand, but I can’t, so I just crawl across the floor to my sister, my hands sliding on the wet tiles as I pull my heavy legs behind me.

  Using my shaking fingers, I remove the wet pieces of hair from her face.

  She really hates that.

  Once the hair is gone and I can see her eyes, I finally let myself cry. I cry as I lean over and kiss her forehead. I cry as I kiss her on the cheek. I
cry as I give her the last hug I will ever give her. I cry as I pick up her tiny hand, bringing it to my mouth before holding it in mine. I cry as I lay my head on her quiet chest. I cry as I focus on her chubby toes. I cry as I curl my arm around her waist and squeeze her as tightly as I can.

  “I’m so sorry, Adley,” I whisper through my tears. “I’m so sorry I didn’t share my toys with you. I’m so sorry I didn’t play with you more. I’m so sorry I always called you a baby. I’m so sorry for telling Mommy that you were the one that drew on the wall.”

  The words get stuck in my throat, but I swallow and keep on talking just in case she can hear me. I need her to hear me. “I’m so, so sorry I didn’t tell you how much I love you every single day. Because I do. I love you so much.”

  The lump in my throat swells so big it feels like I swallowed a rock, but I keep speaking even though it hurts. I have to.

  “But most of all, I’m sorry I didn’t watch you in the bathtub. I’m sorry I turned the water on and made it too deep. I’m sorry I didn’t make you stop sliding like Mommy said.” I hug her tighter. “If it weren’t for me, you’d still be here.”

  My body shakes against hers as I continue to cry.

  “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry…”

  I hold her and whisper to her until Mommy and Daddy rush into the bathroom with a bunch of people following them. Before I know it, I’m yanked off my sister into my daddy’s arms. I watch as the men do the same thing that Daddy was doing earlier, but I know it won’t work.

  Adley is gone.

  And it’s all my fault.

  I’m still surrounded by darkness as my body shoots up, gasping for air. I clutch my chest, trying to get air into my lungs, but it feels as though a four-hundred pound gorilla has been camped there for about a year.

  “Aubrey?” The sound of a deep voice reverberates in my mind, barely filtering through the dimness that drowns it.

  I can’t breathe.

  My body quakes everywhere as the memory of the loss of my sister still lingers. Ice has replaced the blood in my veins. I’m so cold.