by Groves, B.
He’d never heard of one popping open by itself. He wasn’t a believer in otherworldly happenings. Science and logic were more his thing, but what just happened to him was unexplainable.
He was about to say something else when the doorbell rang.
“The pizza!” Gabby exclaimed with a smile.
“Finally. I got it.”
Dean noticed that Gabby sank into a corner while Dean paid for the pizza. It was obviously a defense mechanism she used when a situation about Margo arose.
Today had been different for her. Being amongst the families of the victims today must have been terrifying for her.
The pizza was a greasy mess, but neither cared since they were both starving.
It was light conversation through the meal, and after three pieces each, they were both stuffed.
“I never knew how much I missed the food up here until now,” Gabby said placing her napkin on the plate and giving him a contented smile.
“My parents say the same thing.”
“I agree. “They sat there in silence for a few minutes. Gabby kept receiving text messages and answered some of them
“My parents are upset,” she commented.
“Did you expect any less?”
“No.”
Dean knew it was time, and by the look on Gabby’s face, she knew it too.
She sat across from him with a guarded look in her eyes.
“You saved my life,” Dean started. “So, I owe you an apology.”
Gabby looked down at her lap. She fidgeted for a few seconds and turned her eyes back to him.
“You don’t owe me anything, Dean.”
“Gabby, you aren’t responsible for what Margo did. You never left. Those rumors—”
This time came a sour laugh. “I know about the rumors. The ones where Margo told me to run, and I did. Where the police rescued me first because she was identified right away. Yeah, those rumors.”
It was Dean’s turn to look down at his lap. “I believed it for so many years. I was a coward to never look. I guess…” Dean tried to find the right words. “Now that I think about it, maybe I was more upset we never heard a thing from your family after that. No apology, no follow-up, nothing.”
Gabby met his gaze. “Do you know why? Do you know why my family only gave a small press statement?”
“No, why?”
“Our attorney told us if we had any contact with the victims or the families the settlements wouldn’t be paid.”
Dean scrunched his face in confusion. “Yeah, but my parents never sued. They were offered, but all my bills were paid.”
“They received a settlement from the civil suit, though,” Gabby said.
“Yes, we did. So, let me see if I have this straight. You were told to keep your mouths shut?” Dean asked.
“Yes, and it was in our best interest to put the house up for sale and leave,” Gabby said.
“No contact?”
“None. Now that the civil lawsuit is long over, I can do what I want,” Gabby answered.
Dean shook his head in amazement. He took a few law classes in school, but never went too deep. He never sued or was ever the subject of a lawsuit. This was all new to him. He guessed this situation was exceptional and went beyond your average civil trial.
It even went beyond wrongful death into a catastrophic nightmare.
Gabby sat there with her thumb on her lip. Dean could tell she was deep in thought. He wanted to reach out a hand to her, but once again held back.
“Right after the shooting,” Gabby said after a minute. “I was escorted out by police officers at the back of the school. They hid me in the car and drove me to the station.
“For five hours, my parents couldn’t see me,” Gabby continued. “I was in an interrogation room covered in your blood, soaked with my own urine, being questioned by a detective.”
Gabby looked up at the ceiling and down towards the table. “I peed myself when Margo pointed my own father’s gun at me. She had me at point blank range.”
“I was angry about it for the longest time. About how they treated me. It wasn’t until later that they told me they had to question me—she was my sister—and they were afraid I was suicidal too.”
“It’s an on and off blur sometimes. I can remember what happened, but not what I said,” she said. “Up to the time Margo was shooting everything is clear. After. I remember sitting there and answering the detective’s questions, but it wasn’t until I read the report did I know what the questions were.”
Gabby crossed her arms over her chest and shivered.
“Finally, my parents came in to be questioned. We weren’t allowed to see each other for another couple of hours. Our attorney arrived and talked to me, but ask me what he said? I have no clue.”
“I was reunited with my parents that night. We were escorted to the house, and told to pick up whatever we needed and go hide,” Gabby said.
Dean listened intently. Gabby was no longer there with him. No. She was buried deep in her own memories as she recounted her ordeal.
“I don’t think I’d ever seen my mother so hysterical. Even after my grandma died. My father was in shock, and was at an emotional loss,” she said. “As for me? The picture of Margo just kept replaying over and over in my head. And, I kept asking myself if she was really dead. Did I really see her shoot people and take her own life?”
Gabby shifted in her chair. Her face had one of those expressions of someone who’d seen too much before their time.
“I remember sitting in the back of the car with my mom. We clung to each to each other while my father drove. I think he drove through red lights,” she said.
“We got back to the house, and the police escorted us inside. There were photographers trying to catch us on camera. We went inside the house and forced to pack bare essentials.”
“We couldn’t go anywhere alone, and for some reason, I felt compelled to go to Margo’s room,” Gabby sighed. “I thought she would be there. I did. I thought she would be lying on her bed talking on the phone, but when I walked up to the door, it was empty.”
“The police officer put his hand in front of me, and blocked me from going in, saying it was closed off now for evidence.”
Gabby turned and set her gaze on the mantel. “The first thing I spotted was the music box on her dresser. I remember wanting to take it, but I wasn’t allowed to.”
Gabby turned back to Dean and said, “Then I mentioned that her diary was in there. The cop made a note and sent me back to my room.”
“Was the diary important to her?”
“It’s sitting on my coffee table right now,” Gabby said.
Dean turned and looked over at the coffee table. He realized that torn journal was Margo’s diary. Something important was in there that Gabby hadn’t spoken of yet.
“I wasn’t even allowed to take a shower and change,” Gabby said. “I still had the bloody clothes on, and if I needed to go to the bathroom, I had to have a female officer go in with me or vice versa with my dad.”
“Where did you go in that time?”
“We stayed in my aunt and uncle’s basement up in Deptford until I left that summer,” Gabby answered. “They had a basement turned into a ‘man cave’ for my uncle.”
“You weren’t allowed to go back to your own house?”
“Not for a while, or at least until the house was ripped apart for evidence,” Gabby explained. “The only real evidence was my dad’s broken glass gun case and his stolen weapons. Margo left a suicide note. It was short and to the point. That was kept quiet.”
“What about her diary?” Dean asked. “Did they take it? Is there something in there?”
Dean had the urge for another cigarette. He was enthralled by Gabby’s story, but the stress of it was making the need for nicotine even more powerful.
“I’ll explain the diary in a few—”
“Not to interrupt you, but…”
Dean took the pack of cigarettes
from his pocket and waved them at her.
Gabby didn’t even flinch. She stood and pulled open a kitchen drawer and pulled out an ashtray with her own pack.
Dean was surprised, but not really. They all needed a vice to get through hard times.
“Pam will kill me, but I’ll deal with it later,” Gabby said.
Dean gave her a knowing look, and said, “I never took you for a smoker.”
Gabby shrugged after she lit up. “I was one those anti-smoking crazies until my second year in college. I try to keep it social.”
She opened one of the dining room windows, and Dean felt a cool breeze on his side.
He lit up his and let Gabby continue.
Gabby took a deep drag and blew the smoke through her nose.
Clearing her throat she continued on with her story. “I’ll explain the diary in a few. My parents were desperate to get a hold of John. I don’t know how many phone calls they had to go through to pull John from his duties to tell him. Turns out he already knew. He got to a computer that same day. He was trying to get a hold of us in return.”
Dean shook his head. “Oh God, he found out through the news?”
Gabby nodded her head. “He was making arrangements to come home. It was a nightmare for him.”
“We made it to my aunt and uncle’s house, and for the next four days, I didn’t get a wink of sleep. Every time I’d try there would be Margo shooting everyone and then herself,” Gabby’s voice was shaky from her last sentence.
She took another deep drag of her cigarette and then stubbed it out.
“It wasn’t until exhaustion took over. Meanwhile, my parents were dealing with lawyers, police, everything, while trying to arrange a funeral for Margo.”
Dean stood from his chair and instead of sitting across from Gabby he was sitting next to her.
Gabby wiped her eyes, and said, “There isn’t a day that goes by I don’t think about them, and you. About why she did what she did.”
She turned and looked at Dean straight in the eyes. “I don’t make excuses for her. She’s a killer, and believe me, there are nights when I curse her to hell.”
“I know you don’t,” Dean said.
“We had a small private funeral,” Gabby said. “Even most of the family wasn’t allowed to attend. We had to do it that way, so people wouldn’t find out where it was.”
“Thankfully, my aunt and uncle’s parish came together for us, and we were able to get a priest with no issues.”
“I never thought the last image I would have of Margo was when she shot herself since my parents were forced to choose cremation. It was better that way, so no one would desecrate her grave.”
“Makes sense,” Dean said.
“I had already identified her when I let you go, but my parents still had to through a picture. They couldn’t even view her,” Gabby said.
Gabby turned and gave him a half smile. “I called the hospital to see how you were doing.”
Dean couldn’t help but feel his heart swell at her concern when it happened although she had so many other issues to deal with. He wanted to reach out to her, but Gabby was still in a far away place, and her opening up to him was huge on both of them. He knew one thing—unsaid feelings were going back and forth between them.
“Did they tell you?”
“I never identified myself,” she said. “They told me you would make a full recovery. It was after the funeral that I felt the full brunt of what Margo did.”
Gabby rubbed her eyes and turned away. “Seven Hills had announced that you guys would attend Crestview until the next school year.”
“It’s true. I went back to school there about a month later. Just to get my credits for graduation. They held a party for each of us who returned before the year was out,” Dean said.
“Seven Hills provided me with a tutor in secret until the end of the year,” Gabby explained further.
“She was nice, and seemed okay with me, but when all was said and done, I was mailed my diploma and told through a legal letter to never set foot in Seven Hills again,” Gabby said.
“What?” Dean was astonished by Gabby’s revelation. “Why? What did you do?”
Gabby laughed lowly. She gave him a look as if to say, ‘think about it, dummy.’
“Dean, we’re pariahs in the community. We weren’t welcome anywhere. When we returned to the house, it was vandalized—”
“I remember that.”
“Dean, they tried to bring my dad up on weapons charges,” Gabby said.
Dean couldn’t believe his ears. He shook his head in disbelief and asked, “Okay. What was the reasoning?”
“Well, a minor obtaining a firearm among other things. The reader’s digest version—they needed to place the blame on someone. Margo was dead, they had no one to prosecute, so they tried to go with my dad, and have him do time for my sister’s crime. They were out for more blood.”
“That’s ridiculous. I know he didn’t because I’m sure I would have heard,” Dean said.
Gabby turned her head in thought again, trying to put her words together. “You know, it’s not the civil suits that bankrupted my parents, but everything else. Their insurance paid your settlement, all else was fair game.”
Gabby caught the bitterness in her voice and turned to him apologetically. “I don’t want you to think I’m blaming you or anyone…”
Dean leaned over to her, and this time he was brave enough to reach for her hand that was sitting on the table. He thought of how ironic it was that ten years ago he’d never have the courage to even attempt that.
Gabby seemed to appreciate the human touch. It was obvious she didn’t have much of human connections anymore.
Her story was fascinating, to say the least. Dean hated feeling the way, but the more she talked the more intriguing it became.
She squeezed his hand back when he gave her a reassuring smile and thanked him.
“Anyway.” Dean noticed that Gabby didn’t let go of his hand.
“That summer I was told in no uncertain terms that I was moving to Florida. I hadn’t planned to move to Florida, I’d been accepted to Rutgers, and I was determined to stay and attend.”
“My parents would have none of it. No matter how much I protested, I knew it was a losing battle. My mental state was fragile enough as it was, and I thought maybe Florida would help me.”
Gabby cleared her throat. “In that first year after Margo, everything happened so fast, that I never had time to process what she did.”
Gabby’s voice shook again as she continued to speak. “One moment, I was being tutored the next moment I’m on a plane down to Florida to live with another aunt and uncle who I barely knew, and their kids.”
“My uncle is a professor at Florida State University, and he managed to pull a few strings to at least start me out on some last minute classes.” Gabby scoffed. “They were a joke, but it helped.”
“I was told I needed to get a job, go to school and after my parents were cleared, they would be moving down there too.”
“And, what happened after that?”
“I said goodbye to my last friend on earth, Pam,” Gabby said with tears running down her face. “And, I was there.”
Gabby let go of Dean’s hand and lit up another cigarette.
“I thought being busy would have helped me get through it, but it made it worse. My parents were busy with clearing up legalities, John had to go back to Iraq, and I was in Florida with total strangers trying to get a job and go to school.”
“I hated it. It was hot, muggy, and the bugs were huge,” Gabby said. “My only solace was the occasional trip to the beach in November.”
“That would never happen here,” Dean said with a slight laugh.
“I know it,” Gabby said with a grin. “ You guys have shoobies, we have snow birds. Then my mind took a turn. I couldn’t sleep—I couldn’t eat. My grades went to shit, and I got a job as an assistant at a doctor’s office.”
“I was lashing out at everyone at home. I managed to keep my anger under control at my job and in class.”
Gabby ashed her cigarette in the ashtray. She gave it a look of disgust but took another drag.
“I was afraid to make friends. Nothing was going well. Then…”
Gabby turned and stared at Dean once more. Her eyes steady though red and puffy from crying.
“I was walking to class one day that following year. It was close to the one-year anniversary, and I was trying to hold it in. I kept telling myself that I was going get through this, but nothing worked.”
Gabby took a deep breath. “I was walking by this pond, and an alligator popped its head above water, and I stopped to stare at it.”
“I thought… if I just take a few more steps, then he’ll eat me. I hope I don’t suffer too much.”
Gabby lowered her eyes and then turned back to Dean.
“I thought it was silly to think like that, went to class, and after I sat in my car and waited for the right moment.”
“For what?”
“I put razor blades in my handbag the night before,” Gabby explained. “I wanted the visions and the constant nightmares to stop.”
Gabby shook her head from the memories. “The razors were so close to my wrist, I can still feel their sharp blades in my skin. I must have sat there for hours trying to gain the courage to do it, and it wasn’t until my aunt called my cell phone worried about me, that I realized I needed help, and I didn’t want to give my family more grief. So, I told her I wasn’t feeling well and drove myself to the nearest hospital.”
“How long were you in?” Dean asked softly.
“I was in a psychiatric ward for two weeks following that suicide attempt. It was all at once a terrifying experience and also a relief. Terrifying in the sense I thought to myself ‘I don’t belong here’ and a relief to have my trauma addressed and be able to talk about it,” Gabby said.
Gabby took one last drag of her cigarette and put it out. “My parents said that we never had the chance to grieve our loss and the lives that Margo took that day. Instead, we were dealing with constant judgment, legal action, and everything else in between.”
Dean rubbed a hand over his face and said, “After I recovered I thought I was fine—”