Almost Free
By Lisa Helen Gray
©
Copyrights reserved
2018
Lisa Helen Gray
Edited by Stephanie Farrant
Cover Design by Cassy Roop
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This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places and events are all product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business or establishments is purely coincidental.
Dedication
I am no longer surviving; I am living.
Prologue
Dear Lara,
I’m almost free.
I know the last time I wrote to you I was in a really bad place, but I promise, I’m trying really hard to move on with my life. I am.
I still feel like I’m locked in my own personal prison, surrounded by the same four walls. But those walls, Lara, they continue to make me feel safe. I know them, have memorised them, and I love the comfort they bring me. Yet lately, they’re no longer the same.
I’m starting to believe those four walls are what are keeping me from moving forward. I know if you were here you’d be sitting next to me, trying to cheer me up, and if you were here, it would work. But you’re not here, Lara. I don’t even feel you in our room anymore. It’s like you’re completely gone, or maybe it’s because I’ve started to open my eyes. I don’t know.
After I found you lying in your own vomit, no longer breathing, my world changed. My life altered in a way I can never explain. Not really. Not when my problems seem insignificant compared to you no longer being in this world. I feel like I’m being selfish, unfair, but it’s hard when all I have is Mum and Dad bringing me down.
I’m not you.
I’ll never be you.
But more than that, I’ll never be me again.
I don’t know who I am anymore, Lara. I’ve lost her, and every time I try to dig deep enough to find her, I can’t breathe.
I’m broken.
I’ve become someone else.
Someone I don’t recognise.
Depression hasn’t just changed me; it’s changed everything. It’s changed my views on life. Nothing is the same anymore. It’s jaded, broken, and depressing.
It’s not that I’m unhappy―although I am―it’s more. I wish I was just unhappy; I could change that. I’d have the control I need to work towards the life I want, the life I had. But that isn’t the case. Not with me. I feel numb all the time. I no longer care if I wake up in the morning, no longer care much about anything. It’s like someone has seized every emotion from my body. I’m like a human robot.
It’s exhausting.
It’s weakened me, mind, body and soul. Hell, a month ago it took everything I had in me just to shower.
I hate feeling like this. I do. Depression is a gut-wrenching, soul-crushing disease which leaves you wide open and exposed. It changes you in ways you don’t even realise. You stop caring, the process slow, until gradually, you don’t even cry at those sad TV ads anymore. You die a little inside each day. Everything you once loved, you no longer have any feelings for. All the small things you enjoyed in life, slowly disappear over time.
Even after those changes, it could take weeks, if not months, to notice them because you’re blind to it, swallowed by the heart-aching numbness.
It’s been over a year since I lost you—lost Lake. A year since I was attacked. I should be better by now. I should be doing something, anything, with my life. But instead, I’m still sitting in my bedroom, day in, day out, listening to Mum and Dad just tear me down further.
I swear to you, I tried. I really did. At first, I thought they were being protective, not wanting anything to happen to me, not wanting to lose another daughter. But I wasn’t even close. They do nothing but tell me how worthless I am, how I’m not you and I’ll never be you.
And I know I’ll never be you. No one could ever be you.
I miss you, and I wish you were here. They always listened to you. I can’t breathe with them down my neck constantly, their poison taking root and spreading through my body like wildfire.
It’s why I’ve decided to change my life, to get out from under their roof and away from their cruel words. I know you’d want this for me. I just wish you could be by my side as I do it.
I do have some good news to share, though.
Lake came to see me. I know, I know, I thought she was gone, but she came back. She tried to see me, but Mum and Dad sent her away, blaming my attack on her, which was so not cool. It’s one thing for them to be mean to me, but to Lake? Nuh-uh.
So anyway, I snuck out of my window early one morning and met her. We spoke about everything we missed, and I didn’t blame her for leaving me. I understood.
It was great seeing her again, Lara. I even smiled. I smiled so wide and cried so hard I thought my face might crack. It felt good. I felt alive again. But I knew the minute she left to go home that the numbness would work its way in again, just like it does every time Banner leaves me. Which is why I decided right there and then, I was going to leave and attend uni.
I’m petrified and scared of what this big change will do to me mentally, but more importantly, I’m worried I’ll still be the same broken girl I am inside.
I know moving won’t make my problems disappear, but I am hoping it cracks that hard shell of a wall around me. Some people may be able to deal with change, no matter how big or small, and live day to day; some even out of a suitcase, moving wherever the mood takes them. I also know I’ll never be that person. But I need to do it, and I’ve not wanted or needed anything in over a year.
The feeling is strange, but I’m pushing past it and moving forward. I guess I just wanted you to know I’m not leaving you behind or forgetting you. You’ll always be in my heart, my life, my mind. How could you not? You were the best sister anyone could ever wish for.
I love you, and I promise to write again soon.
Yours always,
Emma.
CHAPTER ONE
Prom Night
Two Years Ago
It’s finally the end of school year, the end of a gruelling two weeks of final exams, and some of the students are throwing a party to celebrate.
A few weeks ago, I had been excited about it, had planned for a night filled with laughter and fun.
But ever since my sister died from overdosing on tainted drugs, my life has been void of any joy, of anything other than a roaring darkness threatening to swallow me whole, and a need for answers.
For the past few weeks, I’ve focussed all my attention on finding out who sold her those drugs, denying my grief any outlet.
After many sleepless nights, all my time spent on my hunt, I found the proof I needed. I’d watched as Darren, my best friend’s boyfriend, sold drugs to her brother—and made sure to get it on camera.
I’d sent her the picture, did my part as a friend, and now I’m ready to go to the police.
But it seemed fate had other plans when Warren climbed onto the roof of Banner’s house.
“Hey, Emma, Luke’s look
ing for you. He’s in the kitchen,” Harry, Luke’s best friend, asks.
“Okay, thanks,” I tell him, glancing at Warren one last time before heading back inside the house.
Banner’s house is huge. His parents are lawyers or doctors or something. I’m not sure. Even though we hang out in the same crowd, we’ve never been close. But whatever it is they do, they must get paid well. I’m surprised they’ve let him have a party. Everything seems expensive. Even the kitchen table is made from thick marble and is surrounded by cream, leather chairs.
With the kids in our school, something in here is bound to get broken or Stained, with the amount of alcohol flowing.
I find my boyfriend, swaying on his feet next to the fridge, and inwardly groan. We’ve been going out with each other for six months, and in that time, he’s done nothing but annoy me. Before I agreed to go out with him, he seemed so well put together, smart, and fun. Now he’s a slobbering idiot who acts like a two-year-old when he’s had a sip of beer.
I’m ready to turn around and leave, but he sees me. “Emma! We have to talk.”
“I’m busy, Luke, can’t this wait? I’m meeting Lake outside.”
He staggers his way over to me, his eyes glazed over. “You know, I tried to be your boyfriend, your friend, but you’re making it hard. It’s been weeks since you lost your sister; you need to move on,” he slurs.
My blood runs cold at the mention of my sister. And even though he’s highly intoxicated right now, he means every word. It’s been a long time coming.
“What?” I whisper, too appalled at his behaviour. “Why would you say that? She was my sister, Luke. I can’t just move on.”
“Whatever,” he grunts, waving his hand at me. “What I’m trying to say is I’m sleeping with Laurie Price. She pays me attention, gets me.”
I glance away, no longer able to look at him without feeling sick. I’m not hurt he’s cheated; I’m relieved. The only reason I’ve held on for so long is because I needed some sort of attachment to my old life, to the me before my sister died. I’m also pissed, because he could have told me another way, not drunk and in a room full of people.
“Okay,” I say, not willing to show him any kind of emotion, and turn to walk away. He laughs, and my spine stiffens with the condescension in his tone, but I pivot to face him once more. “What?”
“You’re such a bitch,” he yells, gaining everyone in the kitchen’s attention. I look through the crowd of faces, friends from school, and blink back tears at the whispers, the stares. I had enough of it when my sister died.
“You’ve had a lot to drink, Luke. I’ll talk to you when you’re sober.”
“That’s it, walk away,” he shouts, throwing his arms out wide. “I break up with you, and you don’t care. I tell you I’m cheating on you, and you don’t even blink.”
I clench my hands into fists. “You know what? We’re done—so fucking done.”
I don’t stand around to listen to him shout abuse at me. Instead, I rush out the room, towards the back garden. I knock into a hard body, and arms reach out to steady me. I glance up through blurry vision to see Banner looking down at me with his deep hazel eyes.
“I’m sorry.”
“Are you okay?”
I nod, shoving out of his grip, and exit through the patio doors. A few people are milling around, but a sudden shouting match at the front of the house has them leaving to investigate.
I furiously wipe at my cheeks, hating myself for being so weak. I should be happy I finally found out who sold the drugs to my sister. Drugs that killed her.
But all I feel is empty.
The lone stone bench under a large tree looks inviting, secluded, even though it’s still close to the house. I walk over and sit down, dropping my head into my hands, breathing in and out slowly.
The night air is still, chilly, but it’s good to feel something—anything.
“What the fuck did you say?” I hear roared into the darkness, and spin around to find Darren—the guy who killed my sister—storming towards me from the side of the house with angry strides.
She may have taken the drugs, but he’s the one who tempted her, the reason she was around them in the first place. I don’t know whether she was hooked—I couldn’t bear to read any more of her diary—but I do know he tempted her, made many promises and told her they were safe. She only mentioned taking them once in the diary, and she also wrote about being in love with the person who sold them to her, writing about how he understood her. He was also the one who broke her heart when she discovered he had a girlfriend, despite being in a relationship with her. It wasn’t until tonight that I found out it was Darren.
“Stay the fuck away from me, Darren. Your secret’s out. I’ve already sent the photo to the police, and to Lake. You’re a fucking murderer,” I scream, getting up.
He reaches for me, and while before I hadn’t been paying attention, too lost in the hollowness trying to consume me, he’s got all my focus now.
The fury in his face has me stepping back, but I’m too late. He grabs my arm in a tight grip, pulling me roughly towards him. His pupils are huge, and so black he looks demonic.
“I’ve lost Lake because of you. She won’t even talk to me. She thinks I’m a murderer. You and your fucking crazy theories. You need to keep your mouth fucking shut.”
I bite back a grimace of pain. “Never!”
He shakes me like a ragdoll, before pushing with such force my feet lift from the ground and I fly backwards, landing on the grass with a grunt.
I look up at him, horrified. He’s always been a bit of an arsehole, but I never thought he’d be capable of this.
“You need to delete that picture,” he tells me, walking over to where I lie on the ground. I shrink back as he comes closer and lean up on my hands.
“Darren, you need to pay for what you did,” I bite out, struggling not scream at him and make him angrier. I also don’t take my eyes off him, not trusting him for a second.
He screams, sounding like an animal in pain. I flinch, trying to slap his hands away when he reaches for me.
A sharp pain to my leg has me crying out, giving him the opportunity to grab me. My scalp feels like it’s on fire as he grasps a chunk of my hair and drags me further into the darkness of the garden, no longer in sight of the house, the scent of roses and freshly cut grass so at odds with my pain and fear.
I panic, my fingers digging into his wrists, hoping he’ll loosen his grip or let me go all together.
“Darren, what are you doing?” I cry out.
“Are you going to tell them you lied?” he asks, dropping me to the ground.
I wince, lifting a hand to my sore scalp. I look up at him, angry he would ask this of me. “You killed my sister. Did you really think I’d let you get away with it? I read her diary, you know. I know all about your cheating on Lake, and so does she,” I tell him, glaring.
“You little fucking slut,” he screams, pulling at his hair.
I try to get up, but his eyes shoot to me, looking crazed and dark. Like a footballer booting a ball into its goal, he kicks me. He kicks me with such force I roll over, winded and in shock.
I get up on all fours, needing to get out of here, but before I can move, hands pull me back by my dress. I hear a seam rip, the dress loosening from my body. And as I roll over, trying to hide my bare skin, I feel a different kind of fear snake through me.
His eyes meet mine, and I don’t recognise him—see any glimmer of the lad I grew up with.
He screams, sounding so crazed, I fear for my life. He doesn’t sound human. I feel paralysed, which is why when he kneels over me, his fists hitting me in every place possible, all I can do is shriek my pain into the night. Every punch feels like torture, like someone’s stabbing me with a hot poker.
When darkness begins to pulse around the edges of my vision, I close my eyes, no longer crying out as he lands blow after blow to my body.
“Hey, what’s going on back here? The pa
rty’s over; you need to go home.”
Banner.
I try to blink my eyes open, but they won’t obey my silent command, my eyelids feeling swollen. I’m cold, and I can no longer feel the dress on my body.
“What the fuck?” Banner roars, and the weight of Darren on top of me, pressing me down into the grass and mud, is suddenly lifted.
My head rolls to the side, and through tiny slits, I watch as Banner punches Darren over and over.
What seems like hours later, I feel something warm cover my body, the scent of aftershave, strong with a mix of spices, making me feel safe.
A warm hand lifts mine from the cold, damp ground and grips it gently, as if afraid anything more will hurt me.
“Emma, it’s Banner. It’s going to be fine. I’ve called for an ambulance and the police are on their way,” he says gently in my ear.
My heart wants to believe him, it truly does, but as I lay on the frigid grass, shivers racking through me, I know nothing will ever be the same again.
CHAPTER TWO
I don’t even recognise the girl staring back at me in the mirror. Two weeks ago, my cheekbones had stood out in stark relief; my thick, brown hair had hung limp down my back, the strands the texture of straw; and my eyes had been swollen, dull and tired, with dark circles beneath. I had been weak, my body near skeletal.
Now, my cheeks have filled out, a healthy pink tinge to them. My hair is shiny and sleek, and my blue eyes, looking more green today, are sparkling with life—something I haven’t felt in a long time.
Months ago, I decided to move out of my parent’s house, away from their malicious and cruel words.
I was suffering with depression, not only from being attacked, but from losing my sister. Finding her body after she had overdosed became my undoing. I changed that day, not only after finding her but… from having to live without her. She was the cheese to my toast, the sausage to my mash. She was everything to me—even if in the last few months of her life she had become distant. She had been older than me, but not by much, since my parents had me eleven months after Lara.
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