The Four Points: Book 1 (The Four Points Saga)

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The Four Points: Book 1 (The Four Points Saga) Page 6

by J. J. Melvin


  “Erika, please… this is also a chance to help me, to help us, your family. This is a very unfortunate situation but it can help us, help get us out of debt and give us a better life. It’s your reward for being a hero. People are offering a lot of money to interview you.”

  My mom didn’t say please often. I thought about how hard she worked. How my mom struggled to raise three kids on her own, often working two or three jobs just so we could get by. I didn’t want to see her struggle every day. I wanted her to have a good life and not be worried about money all the time.

  “Mom, some people think I was in on it, that I helped set up the shooting.”

  “But you weren’t, Erika, so who cares what some ignorant people think? Besides, this is the way you can set those people straight. Erika, you are a hero, it’s time you start accepting and believing that.”

  Just the fact that my mom believed I was a hero was enough for me. I had always felt I was a disappointment to her. It felt good to make her proud.

  “Okay Mom, I’ll do the interviews after I meet with the families of the people who died first.”

  It was difficult to close my eyes. Every time I did, I saw Robert’s bloodstained face. He even haunted my daydreams. I was scared that the images of him would forever plague me day and night. But I went to sleep that evening and even though thoughts of Robert and the tasks I had before me should have filled my dreams, they didn’t. In my dream I was facing a mirror, but it wasn’t me in the reflection. It was a gorgeous Indian girl. She looked like she was my age. She was dripping with jewels and wearing a long white flowing nightgown. She had long thick beautiful black hair, and glistening soft olive skin. I touched my face, and the reflection did the same. She was me.

  The man behind her shared her same dark olive skin. He looked older, perhaps in his mid-twenties. He wore a well-manicured thin dark beard on his chiseled face, and his green eyes sparkled. I could feel his hot breath as he whispered in my ear, “Adhira, my Diamond in the rough.” Slow kisses brushed my neck as his hands caressed my hips. His lips were soft and I yearned for more. He turned me towards him, grabbing both my arms tightly. He kissed my mouth gently, biting my lower lip. He threw me on a beautiful canopy bed surrounded by sheer white silk curtains that looked golden from the candles that brightened the room. He smiled. His white teeth illuminated against his olive skin, and the determination and hunger in his green eyes pierced my soul. He gently laid his body on top of mine. His kisses started at my lips, but then he pulled down my nightgown, moving his mouth to my shoulders. Adhira didn’t ask him to stop… I didn’t ask him to stop. He sat up, taking his shirt off. I stared at the soft smooth olive skin covering his hard chiseled body as he drew me close to him. I raised my hands, allowing him to pull my nightgown off. My body trembled, but his warmth, his protective touch, told me I would be okay. He stared at me, and both his eyes and his thoughts told me he loved me. He gently laid me back down. I could feel his hard bare chest against my soft breasts. His lips moved slowly from my mouth to my neck, then lower. I was nervous, but still I let him move on. Green eyes smiled up at me as he covered my body with his. I could still feel his lips on mine when I was jolted back to reality by my alarm clock.

  It was morning. I sat up, trying to remember more about the dream I’d had. It embarrassed me that I wanted the dream to continue. My body throbbed. I had to take a shower and compose myself. Today was going to be a difficult day. I was scared, but I knew I had to meet with the families of the victims.

  I told the families everything. I told them what Robert had meant when he told me to “remember”. It was uncomfortable to talk about, but I felt I owed it to them, to reveal everything. The fact that I would never answer the question about what Robert’s words meant when he’d whispered, “Remember what I told you,” had always cast suspicion on me. And I wanted them to understand that I was in no way involved in the shooting. I started with my encounter with Robert in the hall. I apologized to them for not asking Robert more questions. I cried as I told them about the guilt I felt for not asking why he wanted me to stay away from the quad, and the guilt I felt for starting to like him. I was happy to discover that none of the victims’ families blamed me.

  It was the first time I had told anyone the whole story. It felt good to talk about it, and I felt that the families of the victims probably helped me more than I helped them.

  I learned the names of the people that died: Teresa Thompson, a freshman and an avid runner; Justin Rodriguez, a sophomore and a science scholar; and the dance teacher Miss Courtney Kline, who had dreamed of opening her own dance studio for kids.

  The next couple of days were filled with interview after interview, picture after picture. It was always the same questions: “Why did I put myself between Trevor and the other students? What made me so brave? For someone so little, how was I so strong?”

  Every time I gave the same answers: “It was instinct, I didn’t think I was brave, and it was adrenaline that made me strong.”

  But… the one question I would never answer in public was, “What did Robert mean when he told you to remember?”

  My answer was always, “I don’t know.”

  That was just for me and the victims’ families to know, my embarrassing secret from the prying world.

  The police and Detective Nixon eventually seemed to accept my answers. Trevor’s confession that he and Robert conspired alone also helped convince the police, and after a week of investigations and interrogations they closed the case.

  Trevor was in jail, where it appeared he would spend the rest of his life. He was being tried as an adult.

  After all of my interviews were finally over, the world seemed to move on to the next tragic story. But I, along with everyone else in Riverton, was still left with the question, “Why?”

  No one had the answers, not even Trevor. I certainly didn’t, but life moved on and it was time to return to school, time to return to Riverton High. I dreaded the day Riverton High was going to re-open. But… that day came sooner than I wanted. It was a rainy, cold, miserable day— perfect for the occasion. I wish they would have just bulldozed the whole place.

  Chapter 8

  REALLY, BACK TO SCHOOL

  Alyssa drove us to school. I stared at the streaks of rain that flowed down my window. I gazed at the blurred scenery as my sister sped down the road. As we drove, I couldn’t help but think of Liam Malloy. I hadn’t heard from him in days. Where was he? I tried to tell myself that his disappearance was for the best, and that everything he was trying to convince me of wasn’t real. But a part of me wished he were normal, that I was normal, and that we could be together. Camera crews flooded the parking lot as we drove in. I wished my sister’s Toyota Corolla had tinted windows.

  One reporter got a glimpse of me and shouted, “It’s her, it’s Erika Martin!”

  When we parked we were immediately swarmed.

  Great, not again. I’d hoped I had been forgotten. I did enough interviews, wasn’t the world tired of me? I was.

  I put my hood up and looked at Alyssa.

  “Pllleeeassse Alyssa, let’s just go home.”

  At that moment, there was a knock on my window. Mrs. Wong stood there holding a large black umbrella. She and a group of police officers were pushing the reporters back. Alyssa got out of the car, came around to my side, and opened the car door.

  “Come on E, you can do this.”

  “Erika, we will escort you in, you’ll be okay.” Mrs. Wong waved her fingers towards herself like one would gesture at a baby who was learning to walk to come to them.

  When I placed my right foot out of the car, the clicking and flashing of cameras exploded. As I stood up, the noise grew louder and louder. All the shouts, all the questions… it was deafening. My sister scooped her arm through mine.

  “Come on sis, we got this!”

  We walked under the umbrella with Mrs. Wong, me in the middle. My sister and Mrs. Wong were getting wet as we all struggled to stay unde
r the shelter of the umbrella. Four police officers escorted us—one in front, one in back, and one to each side of us. I thought it was strange that the police officers made a diamond shape around us as we walked in the direction of the school.

  I thought back to the book. If the diamond thing is real, why can’t the diamond shape the officers made stop the reporters from asking stupid questions?

  The stupidest one penetrated their barrier. “Erika, how does it feel to be back at Riverton High?”

  I kept my head down. I wanted to say, “How do you think it fucking feels, you freaking idiot?”

  I wanted to scream, I was so angry my blood boiled. Why, why would they make us come back? I hate this place, I hate it!

  I was going to hyperventilate.

  “Erika, are you okay?” Alyssa asked as we walked through the gates guarded by police. The gates were the invisible line, the no-reporter zone.

  As we walked into the school, my heart accelerated, my head hurt, and I became dizzy. I couldn’t make the voices stop. I heard so many voices: “It’s her. Do you think she did it?”; “How sad, why won’t people leave her alone?”; and “I wonder if she’ll be my friend.”

  So many thoughts, so much noise.

  “I can’t, I can’t do this, I can’t breathe.” I sat down on the cold concrete floor.

  My sister and Mrs. Wong started to panic as they struggled to lift me up; it was chaos. Reporters piled into the school. They were trying to take pictures. The police officers tried to restore order by pushing all the reporters back and locking the gates.

  “Hey, you can’t lock us out,” students screamed as they pulled on the bars that closed off the school. Mrs. Wong held the umbrella over my head.

  Reporters stuck their cameras through the spaces of the bars, and I heard clicking noises, screams, questions, and laughter. I just wanted it all to stop! I looked at the reporters as I sat on the floor, rocking back and forth with my hands covering my head.

  “Just go away, just go away! Stop! Stop! Stop!” I screamed out loud.

  I tried, but I couldn’t stop all the voices. I pounded my fist on the ground, and as I looked down, I saw an indent in the concrete. My fist had left an impression in the hard ground. I watched as a crack started to split the ground and make its way to the closed gate where the screaming reporters and the annoying students stood.

  I wished they would all just go away. I could feel another blackout coming on… then everything went silent. I looked at the bars that caged me into the place I’d never wanted to come back to. They started to bend. I continued to stare until I felt two strong arms lift me in the air. I looked down at the pavement as it bounced underneath me. I looked at the dark blue uniform and the shiny badge worn by the police officer that held me. I looked over his shoulder to see my sister and Mrs. Wong trailing behind us, then up to a pair of dark sunglasses.

  “Erika, you have to get your powers under control. Try to calm down please, people can’t know about you. Breathe, Erika, breathe.”

  I stared at him in disbelief. “Who are you?” I asked, gazing closely at the man who carried me in his arms.

  “A friend. I am here to protect you,” the officer said just before he swung the door open to the nurse’s office.

  “Should I call for an ambulance?” The nurse was staring at us, looking petrified.

  “No,” the officer said as he sat me down on the bed. “Erika has given me the name and number of her doctor. I will call him. I think she just needs rest. Erika, will you be okay?” The officer took off his sunglasses, searching for an answer in my eyes.

  Staring at him, I thought he looked young to be a police officer, and I wondered if he really was. What did he mean when he told me I had to get my powers under control? Hey, wait a second, I never gave him the number of my doctor.

  “I think so, but I didn’t give you…”

  He interrupted me as he took my hand. On the cuff of his sleeve was the same symbol as the one on the doctor in the hospital and Mr. Blithe: a diamond with an eye on each side. I held his hand, staring at the mark.

  “Erika, I will be here if you need anything. I have been assigned to your school; I’ll be watching you.” The officer then left the room.

  “What happened, Erika?” The nurse knelt beside me.

  I didn’t answer. I was in my own world. Who are all these strange people, and what does that symbol mean?

  Mrs. Wong whispered to the nurse as if I couldn’t hear her, “I think she may be in the midst of a mental breakdown.”

  “Ok, I need to assess her. Mrs. Wong, can you please wait outside? Alyssa, you can stay.”

  I had been in the nurse’s office before because of my numerous migraines, so I knew Nurse Conner well. She was a nice older lady who always overdid the makeup. Today she wore bright pink lipstick with light-blue eye shadow. Her face never moved when she talked, which gave away her Botox beauty secret.

  “Erika, are you okay?”

  Alyssa replied for me, “I think she’s freaking out.” Alyssa seemed like the one freaking out now. I felt bad for worrying her.

  Nurse Conner pulled my hands from my face. “Erika, how are you feeling?”

  I was embarrassed. I wanted to hide as I thought about my meltdown in front of the entire school and the reporters who were bound to make this front page news.

  “I’m fine, I’m so stupid, I’m sorry.”

  “Erika it’s okay, it’s understandable, you’ve been through a lot.”

  I stared at Nurse Conner. Her tone was sympathetic, but her face was unable to convey her emotions.

  “It’s hard for us all to be here, but it will get better.”

  I wondered if Nurse Conner had to attend to the injured, the dead. What toll must Trevor and Robert’s actions have taken on her?

  “Will it?” I said as I wondered, would the reporters and the people of Riverton ever forget who I was? Would I ever go back to being me, happy and complacent to be left alone, to be invisible?

  “Alyssa, I think Erika just needs a little rest. I’m going to let her lie down for a while. I think it would be best if you went to class now.”

  “Erika, do you want me to stay?”

  “No, I’m fine Alyssa, you can go.”

  “Okay, but right after first period, I’m going to come back to get you, okay? Promise me you’ll wait.”

  “I promise.”

  Content, she turned and left the room.

  “It’s nice that you have your sister here,” Nurse Connor said as she covered me up with a thin red blanket she’d grabbed from the cupboard, tucking me in as if I were a baby.

  I agreed.

  “Erika, just stay here and rest for period one. Do you think you can go to period two, or should I call your mom to get you?”

  I didn’t want to go to period two. I didn’t want to go to school anymore, but I couldn’t go home. I couldn’t make my mom miss any more work because of me.

  “No, I’ll be fine, I want to go to period two.” I turned towards the wall and shut my eyes.

  Sleep was my only partial escape. I still had my dreams, my nightmares, but I would choose them over the constant noise in my head any day.

  Alyssa met me at the nurse’s office as promised and walked me to my second-period class. It made me feel good to have my sister look after me again. We had grown distant in our high school years. As we walked through the halls, I tried to ignore the gawks, whispers, and stares.

  I heard a familiar voice, it was Valerie. “Hey, Erika.”

  “Why are you talking to her?” Joanne rudely exclaimed.

  “Because she saved our lives, Joanne,” Valerie retorted.

  “I don’t care, she’s still lame in my book. And who’s to say she wasn’t in on it? She is such a drama queen; look at the stunt she pulled this morning for attention.”

  “The only person who is lame and is a drama queen is you, Joanne. And a little advice: if I were you, I’d grab a breath mint,” Alyssa said in Joanne’s fa
ce, not showing a tinge of fear.

  It seemed that we had quite an audience, judging from the roar of laughter. Alyssa turned and bowed to the crowd.

  Mrs. Wong interrupted before Joanne could make her comeback. “Girls, that’s enough! Can we please just get through this day?”

  My sister silently continued to walk me to my math class. Alyssa and I were as different as different could be, but I knew I could always count on her.

  As we walked, I thought back to when we were in junior high. I had been in seventh grade, my sister in eighth. Valerie and a girl named Meredith sat behind me and my sister on the bus. Meredith, who later became a cheerleader with Joanne and Valerie, grabbed my bag from under my chair with her foot. I turned around and said politely, “I think my backpack slipped under your seat, can I have it back please?” Valerie and Meredith just laughed.

  “Why don’t you come and get it?” Meredith taunted.

  I was scared; I didn’t know what to say. But my sister did. Alyssa turned around and said, “Why don’t I come get it? And while I’m back there, I’ll take your backpack and shove it up your ass. Give my sister her backpack NOW!”

  Valerie and Meredith looked stunned.

  “It was just a joke. Jeez, calm down Alyssa,” Meredith said as she handed Alyssa the bag.

  We both turned around without saying a word. We just rode to the bus stop in silence. I always regretted that I didn’t thank her for sticking up for me that day.

  “Erika, where does your mind go? You’ve been wandering off so much lately,” Alyssa said, her voice piercing through my daydream.

  “I don’t know; I didn’t notice I did.”

  Alyssa wanted to pick me up after each of my classes. I had to reassure her numerous times that I would be fine until she relented and agreed to meet me at lunch.

  I walked into my second-period class expecting to see the uninviting stare of Ms. Cunningham, but instead I was met by the pleasant smile of an attractive young substitute. I read the name on the chalkboard as I took my seat, Miss Barnett. Miss Barnett announced that she would be our substitute for the next two weeks.

 

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