We Were Ghosts--The Secret Life of a Survivor

by Tabitha Barret

  “Remember that,” he hissed, popping the lock.

  I left the car and ran for the door. By the time I reached the doorknob, I had forgotten that Phil existed and became the girl Megan knew at school. The transition got easier every time I did it because I desperately wanted to be the girl Megan was friends with. I wanted to worry about silly things like dances and boys, instead of worrying about despicable things like Phil’s hands on my back.

  Megan rushed to the door as I stepped inside.

  “You’ll never guess who is coming over!” she shouted with excitement. She nearly knocked me down when she grabbed my shoulders and bounced up and down.

  “I agree. How would I ever be able to guess that?” I laughed. I had to push down on her shoulders to make her stop jumping.

  “Sarah! She’s bringing her boyfriend, you remember Steve from the mall, right?” she asked as she started bouncing again.

  I nodded as I recalled Sarah and her boyfriend from our last outing to the mall. Megan had gone to the same middle school as Sarah and they were best friends, until Sarah went to public school and Megan came to St. Theresa’s. I was not a fan of Sarah, but then again, I wasn’t into Guns ‘N Roses the same way that Sarah was into them. She was nice, sort of, but I always felt out of place when Megan started talking about their time together in school.

  Steve was a different story. He had a tattoo of a giant snake on his forearm that he liked to show off. He enjoyed making it dance, which must have been why Sarah adored him so much. It wasn’t that I had a problem with tattoos necessarily, but I hated snakes and was apparently bothered by guys who groped their girlfriends in public and grabbed their breasts while jamming their tongue down the girl’s throat. I understood that I had difficulties with sex and sexuality, as well as the boundaries between men and women, but I couldn’t get past Steve’s utter lack of control around other people.

  “I’m so excited that she’s coming,” she said as she finally stopped bouncing. She must have seen the plastic smile on my face because she suddenly pouted. “That’s okay with you, right? I didn’t mean for her to crash our movie night, it just kind of happened.”

  I felt bad that I hadn’t matched Megan’s enthusiasm since she really enjoyed hanging out with Sarah. I quickly hid my dismay and joined her in celebrating. “It’s completely fine. I brought extra snacks,” I said pulling out my stash and handing it to her.

  She snatched the snacks from me and ran to the kitchen with them. “This is perfect. Thank you!” she said as she inspected the candy and claimed the best ones for herself.

  I plunked down on the fuzzy brown couch and allowed it to consume me as it always did. I like the reliability of the couch because it reminded me that I was free for a few hours. I didn’t have to look over my shoulder to see where Phil was lurking or watch what I said in case my excitement for the outside world gave away some clue about my secret boyfriends or exotic life as a pole dancer.

  My warm haze of happiness was stripped away when I heard the subtle ding of the doorbell. Unwilling to let go of my happy place just yet, I waited a full thirty seconds before turning around to acknowledge the couple. When I turned to say hello, my greeting died in my throat. Instead of two people standing in the doorway hugging Megan, there were two extra people standing awkwardly in the threshold. Two boys had crashed along with the party crashers. My pulse skidded to an abrupt halt and for a moment, I thought I was having a stroke as the lights in the room dimmed and spots appeared in front of everyone’s faces.

  I refused to believe this was happening. Megan never had extra guests over. My only hope was that Mrs. Allen would tell Megan to send her guests packing since she didn’t want an actual party happening in her house. Short of that, it was possible to set the house on fire and escape through the back window. If Phil saw an extra car in the driveway, I was screwed. If he visually confirmed the presence of two males within close proximity to me, my life would be over.

  I blinked a few times and hoped that the boys were a mirage. Sadly, they were still there when I opened my eyes, except now they had seen me and were waving at me. I had no idea if I waved back or flipped them off since my brain shut down as I envisioned the unending punishments Phil would have lined up for me when he saw the boys.

  I thought about calling my mom and telling her that I was sick, but summoning Phil sooner than expected would be disastrous. My only hope was that everyone left before my two hours ended.

  Sarah walked into the living room, sat down on the love seat to my left, and put her black boots on the coffee table. She settled into the seat and was immediately joined by Steve. I ignored his greeting, which was more of a burp, and watched him shove himself into a tiny bit of open space in the chair and proceed to maul Sarah’s face.

  One of the boys, who may have called himself Toby, took an interest in Megan and followed her to the kitchen to help her grab the snacks. The straggler, Mitch, was left standing in the middle of the living room. His eyes fell on me and I could see the internal debate at work. He had two options, try to shift Megan’s attention away from his friend until he could worm his way in, or talk to me. I promised to pray to whatever demon would help me to force Mitch to pick option number one. When he made a move toward me, I cursed every demon, devil, and heavy metal singer I could think of.

  “Hey,” Mitch said, keeping his greeting short. He most likely registered the indifference I was trying to portray, but he blatantly ignored it.

  “Hey,” I said matching his tone and general lack of emotion and commitment to the English language.

  When he sat down next to me, I wanted to spring out of my seat and run home. It took everything I had to stay rooted to the couch.

  “What are you guys watching?” he asked, leaning over to grab the plastic movie case.

  “We’re watching one of our favorites, The Breakfast Club,” Megan said as she swooped in and put down a bowl of popcorn, a bowl of potato chips, and the candy I had brought.

  Sarah broke free from Steve’s mouth and slapped her hand against her thigh. “I love that movie. Pop it in and let’s start!” she cheered enthusiastically before diving back into Steve.

  I rolled my eyes and continued to plan my escape route. My heart sank even further when the floor lamp near the kitchen was turned off and the only light came from the large TV inside the massive wooden case. When I felt Mitch’s arm around my shoulder, everything inside of me stopped functioning. Panic overwhelmed all my senses leaving me frozen in a block of ice. I had no way to respond to his gesture. I didn’t know this guy. I didn’t even know where he lived. Maybe he was really a serial killer. I planned to excuse myself and run for the bathroom when I looked over and saw Megan’s eyes glaze over the second before boy number two...Toby leaned in and pressed his lips to hers.

  I had no way of knowing if I had been set up by my best friend or if this was an unhappy coincidence. Regardless of the possible preplanning involved in this debacle, I now had to deal with the reality of the situation.

  “You feel tense,” Mitch said softly in my ear.

  My panic shifted into full-blown hysteria. His casual tone and his seemingly innocent observation were startlingly close to something Phil would say when I was trapped in my room with him. I wanted to scream.

  When I turned my head to let loose the four letter expletives that had formed in my brain, he must have taken it as an acceptance of his unspoken offer to kiss me. His warm lips made contact with mine and I couldn’t move. Part of me wanted to see if I was capable of kissing someone that I might one day like, once I knew his last name. The rest me imagined what would happen if Phil was spying on me. His head games had finally worked. He made me so disgusted and annoyed by human contact that I had no idea if I could kiss a boy and enjoy it.

  I closed my eyes and let the kiss happen. I tried to tell myself that it was okay, that this boy was my age and making out with him was perfectly normal. I wanted normal, didn’t I? Isn’t this why I had stood up for Zack at my own pe
ril? I wanted to be something more than an empty shell that drifted through life and a doll for someone to play with.

  Mitch pressed harder against my lips and I felt his wet tongue slide over my lower lip. Could I do this? Could I really kiss a boy I didn’t know? I decided that the only way to find out was to try.

  I opened my mouth slightly and Mitch’s tongue was suddenly everywhere inside my mouth. There wasn’t a corner that was free from his invasion. My hands were shaking and my breathing was staggered. I could feel my head spin and my stomach clench, not because I was aroused by the kiss, but because I was going to be sick.

  I pulled away from Mitch’s lips and the arm that had somehow ensnared me and bolted for the bathroom. Sweat beaded on my forehead and on the backs of my legs. I clung to the cool sink for dear life and prayed for death. I wasn’t sure if I was upset because I didn’t know Mitch well enough to kiss him or if it was because I was unable to enjoy a simple kiss. On many levels, I knew I was broken. My reactions weren’t typical based on Sarah and Megan’s enjoyment of the evening. I realized that there was something wrong with me and it was possible that I would never learn how to fix it.

  A knock on the door made me jump. I looked at my sallow complexion and splashed water on my face. It took a little effort, but I composed myself just as I did every afternoon and opened the door to find Mitch casually leaning against the doorframe.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, though he didn’t sound as if he cared.

  “I’m fine. I wasn’t feeling great before I came here,” I said apologetically.

  He must have believed my lie or wasn’t interested in the truth because he nodded and stepped forward with his mouth open to engage me again.

  When I put my hand on his chest and backed away, he grimaced at me. “What’s wrong? I thought we were having fun.”

  I couldn’t understand what made that experience fun for him, but I stared at him as if his head was on fire.

  He finally comprehended my disinterested body language and put his hands up. “God, you’re just like all the others. You can’t handle a good time. You women are such teases. You kiss a guy and then tell them to leave you alone. I’ll bet you enjoyed it but want to keep your precious reputation in tact so you’ll complain that I forced you to kiss me. Whatever. I have better places to be anyway,” he said dismissively as he turned on his heel and left toward the living room.

  I couldn’t move. My brain couldn’t process his condemnation of me. He blamed me for this. I put my hands over my face and started to cry. It was too much to handle. I knew I was a freak, but somehow this confirmed it. Yes, he was a stranger, but hearing him say that this was my fault shattered whatever hope I had left that I could rise through the ashes of my destroyed life to become something more than this.

  Megan came looking for me after I heard the front door slam. I took it to mean that Mitch was gone and old enough to drive a car. I hiccupped when I realized that I didn’t even know how old he was.

  “Oh my God, are you okay?” Megan asked as she grabbed some tissues and shoved them against my eyes and nose.

  “I feel sick from dinner,” I lied with precision.

  Megan nodded, though this time there was a hint of skepticism on her face.

  “I’ll call your mom,” she said dabbing my eyes and rubbing my back.

  Thankfully, my mom came to pick me up, though I’m not sure what made her rush to my rescue. She took me home and explained to Phil that I was sick, a second blessing.

  When Phil saw my pale face, he instructed my mother to put me to bed and told me to feel better, which was uncharacteristically nice of him. His strangled tone and sharp eyes let me know that he had been there tonight and seen Mitch leave the house. I knew from experience that he often made an excuse to my mother about running out to the store, but in reality would sit in his car and watch me. Tonight, it seemed, was no exception.

  Chapter 8

  The next morning, my mother dragged Phil out to garage sales and food shopping, so I had a few hours to myself. All night long, I had tossed and turned as I thought about Mitch’s lips against mine. I tried in vain to make myself respond positively to the kiss, but I couldn’t see it as anything more than an invasion, an unwanted act, like every other I had experienced. When I wasn’t thinking about that, I was preparing my story for my interrogation and subsequent punishment. It would be a long, draining night once my mother went to bed. Even though I had the truth on my side, it did little to save me from my fate. I hadn’t lied about it being a boy-less night, they had just showed up. Sure, I should have resisted Mitch, but in my defense, I hadn’t been taught to resist. I had been taught to stay still and accept.

  By the time I gave up on sleep and put my feet on the floor, I wanted to cry. Dealing with Phil was miserable enough, but dealing with the fact that I might never enjoy a kiss formed a black pit of hopelessness in my stomach. I wanted to wrap a blanket around myself, and sit and stare at the wall for a few hours. Instead, I grabbed my copy of Dracula and headed out to the bear-infested woods to get my mind off my problems for a while.

  After about twenty minutes, I realized that I had been reading the same paragraph and still had no idea what Jonathan Harker was saying. I wanted to throw the book, but instead, I fell over onto my side and curled up into a ball. I stared at the orange and red leaves, which gave me a little more insight than the wall. I was broken and there was no way around it. I knew it was up to me to figure out how to fix myself. I had a master plan of getting a job and moving out when I was eighteen, but Phil kept insisting that I didn’t need a job. Heaven forbid that I find a way to provide for myself and move away, though I believed it was the possibility of meeting another guy that bothered him more.

  Before I comprehended what I was doing, tears were rolling down my cheeks and onto the dry leaves. I could hear the little splash as the water hit the leaf under my face. I hated to cry. It was a sign of weakness and I did everything I could to prove to myself that I was stronger than tears. Unfortunately, I didn’t feel very strong today.

  The sound of crunching should have made me wary, but I was too tired to care who was approaching. Maybe it was a police officer searching for a lost child and would find me instead. I could tell him my story and see if it made any difference.

  “Oh my God, are you okay?” Zack’s panicked voice asked as he rushed to my side. It was the second time in twelve hours that I had heard the phrase, yet I still wasn’t any better.

  I was so detached from my body and reality that I didn’t even sit up to greet him or acknowledge him. I felt his hands against my forehead, presumably to check my temperature. I was wrapped in my heavy multi-colored sweatshirt with the triangle patterns, so I didn’t think I was cold until I felt his warm hand against my skin. I couldn’t tell if I was freezing in the chilly sun-filled day or just numb.

  He carefully pulled me into a seated position and leaned me against my favorite log.

  “Are you hurt?” he asked, frantically checking me for any obvious signs of damage. The most interesting places he checked for trauma were my wrists. I jolted out of my haze when I processed the fact that he was afraid I was trying to kill myself.

  “I’m okay, mostly. I’m not hurt,” I blurted out as I pulled my arms away from him and tucked them under my armpits.

  He leaned back a little, but stayed crouched in front of me, his eyes searching for an explanation for my uninterested behavior.

  “Then what’s wrong?” he asked softly. His eyes were locked on my face, waiting for me to tell him what was going on inside my turbulent head.

  I almost smiled at his concern, but I was too numb. It wasn’t often that someone saw my pain and was kind enough to ask me about it, though it was probably more my fault for not letting them in. I wasn’t sure why I trusted Zack, but it was probably because he understood the world I was trapped inside of better than most.

  “A guy kissed me last night,” I said, chickening out and giving him the easiest of my probl
ems to deal with. He didn’t need to know that I found it more traumatic than my larger issues.

  His eyebrows flew up into his forehead as the wind rustled his hair. After a second, his eyes narrowed and he looked away. When I didn’t expand upon my initial statement, he looked back at me and shoved his hands into his pockets. I recognized the action from his tree pummeling as a sign of distress. Was he mad that I kissed someone?

  “Who was the guy?” he mumbled as he looked down at something intriguing on the ground between us.

  I shrugged. “His name was Mitch. I don’t know anything more than that,” I said staring off at a rose bush in the neighbor’s yard that had lost all its flowers.

  His mouth fell open and he lost his perfect balance for a second and tipped to one side. “You only know his first name and you were making out with him?”

  I really didn’t have a defense planned for anyone other than Phil, so my mind locked up when I tried to figure out what to say. I finally burst into tears unable to give a rational response for my impulsive decision.

  Before I knew what was happening, a blurry Zack came closer and put his arms around me. He didn’t hold me tightly, but gently, as you would a person who had gashed their hand on something but needed emotional support.

  “Did he hurt you?” he whispered.

  His simple question hit my nervous system and the walls between my reality and my perfectly crafted world shook once again. Yes, he had hurt me, but I wasn’t thinking about Mitch. I had to calm my nerves and focus my mind before I said something incriminating that would cause my world to collapse completely.

  “No, he didn’t hurt me. I was at Megan’s and one of her friends came over. She brought a couple of guys with her. This guy Mitch was sitting next to me, and then Megan turned off the lights. She starting kissing the other guy neither one of us knew. I didn’t tell Mitch not to kiss me, but I had literally said four words to him before he leaned in and mashed his lips against mine. I didn’t know what to do, so I ran to the bathroom. I felt stupid for overreacting, but I didn’t enjoy the kiss. I tried, but I couldn’t,” I sniffled as the tears began to soak the collar of my sweatshirt.