Dealing with Demons

by Melissa Haag

  The numbness that had protected me fled with her presence.

  “Oh, Mom...” It came out a strangled moan. “He died. Brian shot him. It’s all my fault.” And it was. I shouldn’t have opened the door.

  “Honey, Morik’s not like us. I’m sure he’s fine.”

  “No, Mom. He told me. He can be hurt just like us. Bleed just like us.” I felt the tightness on my face from his dried blood. “He’s dead,” I whispered brokenly, swiping at the mess on my skin and clothes.

  The visual reminder of his abandonment tore at me. The pained sounds emitting from my throat sounded like a dying animal.

  “Clare, we can’t take her out of here like this,” Aunt Grace said softly.

  I didn’t pay them any further attention. My insides were breaking all over again. Everything hurt. Especially my throat. Another sob bubbled out of me.

  Someone helped me stand and steered me to the bathroom. Water ran. Someone peeled the clothes from me. Steam filled the air. A hot spray soaked my skin. I started to shake and blinked at the shower curtain. Mom stood partially outside, using the removable nozzle to hose me down. The water ran clear in the drain. I had expected red.

  “Come on, sweetie,” she said, coaxing me out of the shower.

  She dried me and helped me dress in the pajamas I’d just changed from. They smelled like Morik. Tears streamed down my face in earnest.

  Aunt Grace knocked on the door and whispered something to Mom. I didn’t pay attention. I didn’t care.

  Bleakly, I allowed my mom to lead me from the bathroom. She helped me put on socks and shoes. Someone had cleaned them. I couldn’t remember Mom taking them off.

  The entry smelled like cleaner, and no blood remained.

  Movement caught my attention as I shuffled toward the entry. I looked at my reflection in the mirror just behind the door and wondered if the girl staring back at me had figured it out already. We were dead without Morik. How many weeks did we have left? I couldn’t think straight but guessed less than five. Then, I would be like Aunt Danielle. No, not like her. I had no twin to tie me here. I’d just die.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  I struggled with any concept of time. When pain didn’t consume me to the point of sobbing dry heaves, a strange numbness invaded and blocked reality. My relief came in the form of the chant I used to hate. I now welcomed the oblivion with open arms. It came too infrequently, though, leaving me to struggle through my regrets.

  Too late, I realized my own love for Morik. In the weeks since meeting him, he’d built himself a room in my heart. There, all the memories of him remained to haunt me. Every touch and kiss replayed itself. The playful moments in the bowling alley...the anguished moment our eyes met in the bathroom mirror at school...it all ate at me. Regrets. Missed opportunities for me to tell him of my love.

  I stayed in my room and avoided everyone, and any reminder of life, while I dwelled in the darkness of my thoughts.

  My solitude didn’t remain as long as I wanted. A hurricane broke my reverie.

  Beatriz stormed into my room with thunder in her eyes. I blinked at the unexpected sight. Not just at her presence but also her mood. Everyone had spoken softly since Morik died, tiptoeing around my tears and despondent silence. Not Beatriz. She came in yelling.

  “No!” she said as she strode the four steps to my bed. “I won’t allow this.”

  She yanked the covers back and pulled me by the hair from the prone, curled position I’d lain in for I didn’t know how long. Then, she got right in my face.

  “You reek. Get up now, and shower.”

  Tears welled in my eyes. I’d cried so much already, but it seemed I wasn’t done yet. She didn’t understand. My best friend. What I’d always wanted. She didn’t understand that I’d lost my heart, that I would be leaving her soon. How could I say good-bye to her, too? It all hurt so much.

  “I’m not going to cave because you cry. Up!” She tugged my hair again, and I went with her.

  I didn’t mind the hair pulling. Its pain dulled the agony I felt inside.

  Like my mom, Beatriz helped me undress. But, there was no room in my pain to acknowledge embarrassment, not even when she mumbled something about more lesbian rumors. Unlike mom, Beatriz didn’t warm the water. The cold spray jolted me from my stupor.

  “W-what are you d-d-doing?” I sputtered at her.

  “It’s called not giving up. You should try it sometime,” she said.

  I tried to escape the water, but she pushed me back under it. Something inside snapped, and I narrowed my eyes at her.

  “Back off, Beatriz,” I growled.

  Cold water dripped down my back. I shivered and crossed my arms, my nakedness finally dawning on me. We glared at each other through the gap in the curtain.

  “Shower. Then, I’ll let you out.”

  Without looking away, I spun the handle toward hot. The water warmed, and I angrily turned my back to her. As the water heated, my temper cooled. A little.

  “What, besides my smell, prompted you to come barging into my room?” I asked. I slowly rinsed my hair, not actually shampooing it. Gross or not, I just didn’t care enough to expend the energy needed for a full wash.

  “It’s been a week. Your mom said to give you time. But I know you don’t have that. Enough’s enough. You need to find a replacement and stop horsing around.”

  Her words jabbed deep into my middle, knocking my breath out. I braced a hand on the tile and gagged. A replacement? How could she say that?

  Then her words sunk in.

  “You know.” The statement escaped in a horrified whisper.

  “Your mom had your Aunt Danielle tell me,” Beatriz said quietly from the other side of the curtain. “She’s really awesome. Your whole family is. I want to help you, Tessa. Please.”

  Tears blended with the water, and I had a difficult time swallowing past the lump in my throat. A true friendship. Just like I’d seen in my vision. I should have known it wouldn’t depend on marrying her brother. It was just the kind of person Beatriz was. Kind and caring...in a scary, cold way.

  “I don’t know how you can help,” I said, turning off the water.

  She passed a towel around the curtain, allowing me privacy.

  “First, we need to verify he’s actually dead,” she said practically.

  “Watching a bullet pierce him isn’t enough?” My voice broke.

  “No,” she said brusquely. “It’s not. And it shouldn’t be for you, either. He’s not human. Sure, he can be hurt, but what if the same rules don’t apply to him? Maybe he can’t die.”

  “I wish that were true.” Wrapped in the towel, I stepped from the shower.

  “You didn’t wash,” she said.

  I ignored her. “He told me he could cease to exist. That’s pretty much how I would define death.”

  She followed me to my bedroom and waited just outside the door while I dressed. The bed tempted me, but I didn’t doubt Beatriz would pull me from it by the hair again. I called her in as I flipped the blankets over the mattress and sat down on its edge.

  “What about your mark?” she asked. “It’s still there.” She sat next to me and gave me a cheeky grin. “I peeked.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I don’t know what it means that it’s still there. Morik didn’t seem to know much about the link other than it tied us together more than my choice would.”

  “I think we should take it as a good sign,” she said firmly.

  I didn’t have the energy to argue with her.

  “If he is still alive, you wouldn’t want him popping in and seeing you like this. You’ve lost weight and look...well, sick. Let’s get you something to eat.” She stood decisively and waved me to the door.

  With a mulish scowl, I stood and led the way to the kitchen. A smoky, sweet aroma tickled my nose and my memory. Bacon. Nostalgia swamped me, and tears rimmed my eyes. With a sniffle, I stopped in the hallway.

  Beatriz stepped around me, grabbed my hand, and held it in h
er own.

  “Trust me,” she whispered. “I will pull you through this.” Her steely tone indicated her level of determination. She tugged me forward.

  Everyone sat at the kitchen table. All, except Aunt Danielle, held a cup of coffee. Their worried expressions changed at the sight of me. Mom started to cry. Gran stood with a watery smile and said she’d fix me a plate. Aunt Danielle winked at Beatriz.

  I sat in Gran’s vacated chair. Aunt Danielle glided to her usual chair so Beatriz could sit with me at the table. No one said anything, but I could see they all wanted to.

  After nibbling halfway through a slice of toast, I set my barely touched plate to the side. Mom’s crying had quieted to sniffles, and she cleared her throat for the second time, obviously working up the courage to break the silence.

  “Tessa,” she said with soft hesitancy. I looked up at her. “Stephen has a nephew we’d like you to meet.”

  I didn’t try to hide my horror. “Isn’t Morik’s death enough?” A tear slipped down my cheek.

  “I don’t think now is the time for this talk,” Beatriz said. The steel was back. “We need to run. I promised Mona we’d stop in.”

  Beatriz tugged me to my feet. I followed her like an obedient puppy and put on my things at the door. Gran cleaned up my plate, and I felt a pang of guilt. What had I done to them for the past...How long had it been?

  “What day is it?” I asked Beatriz.

  “Saturday.” She didn’t look at me, just pushed me out the door into the snow.

  A whole week. I couldn’t really remember eating or anything. I frowned.

  She led me to a car and held the door for me. I didn’t want to get in, but I doubted she was willing to give me a choice. So I sat.

  “Buckle up,” she said before she slammed the door closed. She joined me a moment later, sliding in behind the wheel. “It’s my mom’s car, so we need to be good.”

  I didn’t think I had the energy to misbehave but nodded anyway.

  A few minutes later, she parked in front of the Coffee Shop. It hurt to look at it. I thought of all the times Morik helped me with deliveries and waited for me at a table.

  Beatriz didn’t give me a chance to balk. She pulled me from the car and dragged me inside.

  Mona didn’t look up at the sound of the bell. A long line waited at the counter. She hustled to make orders and ring up sales. Guilt hit me. I’d never called her to explain my absence. I turned to Beatriz to tell her I wanted to leave.

  She’d anticipated it. With determination in her eyes, she held out her hand. On her palm was a hair tie. I stared at it a moment then slowly reached for it.

  Mona murmured a quiet cry of joy when I stepped behind the counter with her. Customers watched me expectantly. I turned away, not ready to take orders; but, I could fill them while I bled inside.

  The handle of the coffee pot welcomed my palm. Feeling brittle and thin, I strove to slip into our routine. Customers smiled and thanked me as I handed them drinks. I couldn’t manage a return smile. The simple monotony kept my hands busy, but I struggled to focus. The noise and the bustle wore on me.

  I wasn’t sure how long I bumbled behind the counter before Beatriz tugged me to the backroom. She sat me down with a sandwich she pulled from a plastic baggy. It looked like something Gran made. My hand trembled as I ate it. I was numb inside and out.

  Beatriz left me alone for twenty minutes, just enough time for me to finish a soda and the shakes to fade. Then she put me back to work. This time, I slid into the routine with more ease.

  Beatriz flipped the sign on the door at exactly one. We cleaned in silence. Mona tried giving me tip money, but I saw the pathetic amount in the jar and shook my head. She didn’t push me.

  Back in the car, I shivered as the chill of the leather seats seeped into the backs of my legs. More guilt weighed me down, and I looked out the windshield.

  “I know what you’re doing,” I said quietly as Beatriz started the engine.

  “Good for you,” she said sarcastically. Yet, it lacked any malice.

  “Pulling me back into my old life won’t change anything.” She had to know. The sooner she accepted it, the faster she could move on.

  “You’re right,” she said. “It won’t. If he’s still alive, he’ll be back soon. If he’s not, you’ll die in a few weeks. I just don’t see how staying in your room is a better option for anyone. Your life isn’t just about you. It’s about the people who love you, too.”

  Ouch.

  “I know you’re dying. Not just in a few weeks but inside, right now. I can’t make that go away. But maybe I can help it fade. Just a little bit every day. If I only have you for a few more weeks, please let me try.” Tears thickened her voice.

  A few of my own spilled over my lower lashes. Morik wasn’t the only one who loved me. I needed to remember that.

  I nodded stiffly, vowing that I would pull myself up and live again for as long as I had.

  The next week, Beatriz stuck to my side. She used her mother’s car to take me to and from school. She sat with me at lunch and met me in the hall after each class. She didn’t try to keep a cheery disposition or lighten my mood. In fact, she adopted a snarky attitude that kept most people at bay.

  I made an effort to catch up on homework. Also under Beatriz’s watchful eye.

  While I sat at the kitchen table Wednesday and ignored the snacks Gran placed between us, I listened to Beatriz’s repeated sighs.

  “What?” I finally asked, setting down my pencil.

  “Nothing.” She scratched another answer onto her paper. Since she found math easy, I knew the work wasn’t the source of her sighing. I continued to wait, and she gave in.

  “Ted didn’t last more than the dance. I’d really hoped he’d be...” She sighed and shook her head. “Something special.”

  I hadn’t thought much of Ted to begin with. Sure, he would have been nice but a little too boring for Beatriz.

  “So find someone better,” I said, not wanting to talk about Ted or any other boy. I picked up my pencil, but she wasn’t done with the conversation yet.

  “That’s just it. How do I know if the next one will really be any better? I need a way to see into them. Who they really are. Who they will be.” She eyed me expectantly.

  I wilted into my chair.

  “Mom told you.” How much more had my mother told Beatriz? Since Beatriz stayed until just before the chant, I never got a chance to ask.

  “Please, Tessa,” she begged.

  “Who they are for me might not be who they are for you.”

  “A wife beater is a wife beater. You can give me the basics,” she insisted.

  I wrinkled my nose, and she clapped, knowing she’d won.

  The next day, I used all the skill I’d acquired over the years to casually touch over fifty boys while Beatriz hovered close by. At first, we started randomly. Then we moved to specific targets. After a touch, I would either nod or shake my head. When I shook my head, I wouldn’t give any explanation. Too often, the image of my possible future invoked a bittersweet heartache.

  Touching one boy brought me to tears. He reached out to pat my arm in sympathy without even knowing why I was crying. With him, I saw six beautiful girls. Unwilling to suffer his loss, I arranged to die with him. Our six girls, all under the age of eight, went to my mother and Aunt. The largest number of children yet.

  By Friday, I begged Beatriz to leave me alone. She conceded but only for the weekend.

  With relief, I went to work Saturday morning. Mona welcomed me and Gran’s baked goods back, officially, with a smile.

  Beatriz and Brad came in just after one. Their parents were once again out of town, and Brad planned another party. Neither would accept no for an answer. Beatriz promised to return me home before dark and coaxed me into Brad’s car.

  Dressed in work clothes, I went along, thinking I’d help them prepare like I’d done before, then I’d call my mom for a ride home before anyone showed up. Only, when we
arrived, the party was already in full swing.

  Tommy was running the bar when we went downstairs. He looked at Brad with relief and pulled Beatriz and me to the air hockey table. Beatriz, in her element, started challenging others. Rudely.

  When she returned me home just before dark, she waved good-bye with a promise to see me after work the following day.

  My family waited for me inside, ready to chant me to sleep. I ignored the hope in my mom’s eyes as I stood in the circle, waiting for their touch.

  As their fingers brushed my arms, I realized what I was doing. I’d promised myself that I would live for the people who loved me. Instead, I’d been going through the motions, holding myself back because I didn’t have the heart to push forward the way they wanted me to do.

  I was existing while I waited for the end.

  That thought followed me into oblivion and was still in my mind when I woke again at seven. I thanked Mom for the toast and hurried to dress for work.

  I’d feared watching my family die. Now, I was condemning them to the hell of watching me die, knowing full well the pain they would feel. Guilt consumed me.

  Gran drove me to work, and I took her baked goods from the back seat.

  “I love you, Tessa,” she said before I closed the door. “I hope you have a good day.”

  I’d thought it wouldn’t be possible for my heart to break any further, but the way it felt when I heard the concern in her voice proved it could. It took effort to continue to go through the motions and not watch the clock as the day progressed.

  True to her word, Beatriz walked into the Coffee Shop five minutes before close. Brad was with her.

  “Save me,” I whispered to Mona.

  She gave a small laugh. “No way. She was lost without you for that week. She came in three times, asking questions and planning.” Mona abruptly stopped talking and looked at me with worry.

  I smiled weakly. “Don’t worry. I know what she’s doing. I love her too much to tell her to give up.”

  Mona grew serious and followed me to the back when I went to restock the sandwich containers.

  “I don’t know what went on with you and your man,” she held up her hands, “and I don’t want to know. But seeing how it affected you, how you looked when you walked in here last week compared to how you are now...she did what needed doing.”