Sophie also agreed to testify, to help secure his sentence behind bars.
It’s not because I’m strong, because trust me, I’m not. But if I can stop him from getting out and hurting anyone else, then I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure he’s there for a very long time.
“Who’s ready for cake?” Mom asks as she stands and starts stacking the dishes on top of each other.
“Here, I’ll do that,” Reece offers.
“Thank you, Reece.” Mom smiles at him and lets him take the dishes into the kitchen while she sets the table for cake.
“I’ll help too,” Taylor adds. “Can’t let Mr. and Mrs. B think you’re the only nice one,” he smacks Reece on the back of the head.
Luckily Reece’s hands are full, or I could see a rough tussle in our near future.
“Boys,” my father adds. “Last time you two wrestled, it cost you a new TV.”
“Oh yeah,” they both grumble together. They’d been trying to outdo each other, one saying their kicks were high than the other. Taylor fell on his ass, his left leg going from under him, his right leg going straight through the TV.
Taylor got Reece a job at his work and they both worked their butts off to buy another TV for Dad, and since then Dad likes them even more. He says they have good values and show responsibility.
Life is progressing at a snail’s pace. I still see Tara, though not as intensively. I see her once a week, but when I have bad days, I call her myself and book in an appointment. Those days are rare but I doubt they’ll ever completely disappear. I push past them, and thanks to my family, Reece, and Sophie, I get through it.
“Happy birthday to you.” Mom brings out my birthday cake, starting off the singing celebration.
She sets it down in front of me, and when everyone’s done singing I blow out the seventeen candles on top.
“Do you ever wonder, when a person blows out the candles, how much of their spit ends up on the cake? Yet, we happily eat it,” Sam pipes up.
“Oh yuck,” we all moan.
Dad scrunches up his napkin and pegs it at her head. “Really, Samantha?” he teases her. “Where is your mind? Or at least the filter to not say everything that pops into your head?”
Sam beams at Dad and lifts her shoulders. “I’m still going to eat it,” she says happily.
Mom cuts up the cake and gives each of us a slice.
When we finish eating, Taylor hands me an envelope. “Happy birthday,” he says. Opening it up, there’s a gift card for Hollister’s.
“Thank you, Taylor, that’s great.”
“Here you go, big sister.” Sam hands me a small box. “There’s no card. I couldn’t be bothered getting you one.”
Smiling, I roll my eyes at her. “Thanks.” I open the box and it’s a silver bracelet with a plaque. The engraved plaque says, ‘Sisters forever.’ “Oh my God!” I jump up and go give her a hug. “Thank you, it’s so beautiful. I love you so much.”
“I love you too,” she echoes my words.
When I let her go, Sam helps me put it on. I jiggle it around a bit, letting the overhead light catch the sparkle. “It’s so pretty,” I say happily.
When I sit down Reece hands me a long dark green box. “Happy birthday, doll.”
I open it up and there’s a gorgeous silver chain inside it. “Oh wow,” I say. “That’s gorgeous! Will you put it on me?” I ask.
“Not yet. Later.” He winks at me, and now I’m suspicious of him. He nervously shifts in his seat and looks at Mom and Dad. I’m watching him though, because I know he’s up to something.
“Now it’s our turn.” Dad gets off his chair, and heads over to where Mom is. He drapes his arm over her shoulder, and she shifts in her seat to get something out of her pocket. Mom’s got the biggest smile on her face as she hands me a small box.
“What’s this?” I shake the box but nothing sounds inside of it.
“Open it,” Dad encourages me.
I open the box and there’s a key inside. “It’s a key? I already have a house key, but it’s pretty? Thank you.” Am I missing something?
“It’s not a house key, Dakota. It’s a key to your new car.”
All the blood drains from my face, while I blink crazily at Mom and Dad. “You bought me a car?”
“Don’t get too excited. It’s not new and flashy, but it is reliable. We’re picking it up next week. You need to learn to drive, and to become more independent. This is our present to you.”
I look down at the key in the palm of my hand, turning it over and over. “You’re giving me my independence. You’re telling me I’ll be okay.”
Mom cries, and Dad nods.
“Thank you. I’m not sure I would have been able to survive these past few months if it wasn’t for all of you. My life was turned upside down, and not once did you doubt or even question me. I really don’t know how I could’ve gone through it all without your support.” I close my hand around the key. “This is so much more than just a key.”
Mom nods, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“We’ll always be here for you and your sister. You both have our unwavering love and support,” Dad says.
I look around the table, Sam is crying, Taylor’s wiping a tear away, too. “You crying, Taylor?”
“Nah, man, it’s my damned allergies.”
“The ones you never had until now?” Sam lightly punches him in the arm.
“Yeah, they only play up every now and then. Can’t help it.”
Mom starts clearing the table, and everyone moves away, clearly affected.
I turn to Reece, who’s staring at me. “Grab your coat and scarf, Dakota. Let’s go sit out back for a while.”
“It’s cold.”
“So what? You’ll be warm.” He stands and grabs his coat, and I go to my room to get mine too.
We meet by the back slider and head out to sit near the pool. It’s cold, really cold. We don’t get snow here but this year’s winter has seen the threat of it for the first time since I can remember. “I have another present for you,” Reece says.
“Yeah? The necklace is more than enough. You really shouldn’t have.”
“Dakota, since I was nine years old, I’ve loved you. And every year that passes I fall more and more in love with you.”
Oh . . . wow. My heart melts at his words. “Reece,” I whisper.
He takes a small pouch out of his pocket and hands it to me. I open it and out slides a gorgeous silver bottle-shaped pendant with a brilliant green emerald cut into the shape of a heart in the center of it. “My heart belongs to you. Keep it close, because it only beats for the love of my life. I’m more in love with you now than I was when I was nine.”
“Reece.” I choke up, my throat dries, and I’m fighting back tears.
“When you’re ready, I want you to know I’ll be waiting. Never give my heart back, because it’ll only ever belong to you.”
I turn to Reece, move forward and cup his cheeks. I lean in and brush my lips slowly, carefully, across his.
“I love you,” I whisper.
Tonight a silent promise is made.
My heart already belongs to Reece, and when I’m ready, my body will too.
Statistics quoted are accurate as at June 2016 from RAINN—Rape, Abuse & Incest National Network.
Hotline US ~ 800.656.HOPE (4673)
Hotline AUS ~ 1800 737 732
Hotline UK ~ adults: 0844 847 7879
~ under 18s: 0808 802 0808
I’m a cutter.
I cut because I find solace in it.
I cut because it helps calm my frantic mind.
I cut because the voice inside my head tells me to.
I cut because this is the only way I know how to handle life.
Prologue
I don’t recall the first time I cut myself, nor do I remember the reason why I decided to do it. I just remember the feeling.
When the blade sliced through my skin, something was relea
sed. It wasn’t only the blood trickling out of my thigh, or the pain the blade was inflicting.
Something inside me changed.
The voice became quiet for a few seconds and everything seemed calm. I had no stress, no worries, no one in my head telling me how useless I was. For the few seconds after the blade ran through my skin, I was free.
And ever since that first time, whenever life gets to be too much, I cut myself. I always feel better, calmer once I’ve cut.
Over the years, I’ve learned how to hide it.
When my Dad asks me how I am, I respond in the most natural way I can. “I’m great,” I usually reply and add a smile to my words to give them more authenticity.
But, on the inside, I’m anything but great. Most of the times, I can reason with Azael (my demon), tell him he’s not real, and he’s trying to drag me down. He told me his name the first time he came to me and made promises he always breaks.
But sometimes, my demon wins, and the only way to get him to leave me alone is to cut.
Taking a deep breath, I stare at myself in the mirror of my bathroom. On the outside, I look like everyone else. My dirty blonde hair has shades of red in it, and my brown eyes sparkle. But all I see is dullness. Azael always tells me how average I am, and how I’ll never amount to anything because I’m only ordinary.
I don’t want to be anything special. I just want to blend into the walls and hope no one notices me.
Wiping my hand across the steamed-up mirror, I stare at the blank face reflecting back at me. The blade is calling, Azael’s voice is chanting to take it out of the bottom drawer and slice through my skin.
Do it he screams. Do it now!
My heart races as my eyes slowly travel to the drawer.
Do it!
Closing my eyes for a moment, I try to silence the beast inside my head.
Do it!
Squatting down, I open the drawer and take out my small, black medical pouch. Slowly, I unzip it and reach in to feel for the blade. The moment my fingers touch it a bolt of electricity surges through my body.
Do it!
Anticipation sparks my awareness. My skin becomes hypersensitive and greedy. It demands the coolness of the blade.
Do it!
I lift the blade between my fingers, and my heart dances happily inside my chest.
Lifting my left leg to balance on the bathtub, I stretch the skin taut near the crease of my thigh.
Do it! The demon screams in my ear.
I haven’t cut here for a while, and the old slice has healed nicely.
I bring the blade close to my skin and shake with impatience. My mouth is dry as I move my hand closer to the skin. But I can’t be careless; I don’t want to hit an artery and bleed out.
I need to take my time. Make it perfect. Draw in on the excitement and the rush.
The blade makes contact with my skin, and the demon inside my head laughs with joy.
Elation fills me.
I let out a long breath of relief.
The demon has been silenced.
He’s won… again.
Chapter 1
Do you need a ride to school? And DO NOT wear that ugly t-shirt you wore last week, it’s so 80s.
Reading the message from Jared, I smile when I see his reference to my clothing.
Nah, Dad’s on the late shift this week. He’ll take me.
I reply and throw my phone on the bed so I can get ready for school.
Slipping the t-shirt over my head, I chuckle to myself because I can imagine what Jared’s going to say the moment he sees it.
Jared’s my best friend in the entire world. He moved to our small town when I was in elementary school. He and I hit it off straight away. It was like we found our soulmates in each other. We’ve been best friends ever since.
Jared is also gay. Do I care? Nope, not one little bit, because let’s face it—why would I?
Our town is a small suburb with a population of under a thousand. Jared and I keep to ourselves, even though we have friends, but it’s always been ‘Jared and Ivy.’ At first, some of the town folk thought he and I would end up together, but when they realized Jared was gay, everyone stopped asking if we were going to get married when we ‘grew up.’
Ewww. I can imagine nothing worse than Jared and I being a couple. Don’t get me wrong, I love him so much, but I’m not in love with him. He’s more like the brother I never had. And I’m more like the sister he’s never had.
“Ivy, are you ready?” Dad calls.
“Just a minute,” I respond as I grab my jeans off the back of the chair and start sliding them up my legs.
Looking at the freshest cut on the crease of my leg, I’m really happy at how quickly it’s healing.
Ivy, Azael demands. It’s been days since I cut, but the monster has been trying to call to me. Zipping up my jeans, I look at myself in the mirror stuck to the back of my door. My dirty blonde hair falls lifelessly around my face. “Ugh,” I grumble as I grab my hair brush off the bedside table and try to give it some volume.
Ivy, the demon calls again. Your hair looks awful, but you know I can help make you feel better.
Closing my eyes for a second, I push his voice away. I bury it deep and refuse to let him win. He has to go away, I won’t allow him to make me feel like this.
Ivy.
I hate the control he has over me. I hate that when I hear his voice, my skin pebbles with excitement. I hate how dry my mouth becomes. But the thing I hate most is how I can’t help but listen to him when he beckons for me.
“Ivy, come on. You’re going to be late,” Dad calls again.
Giving myself a final look in the mirror, I make a pact with myself that today, I will refuse to let him have control over me. My heart skips a beat as I find the courage to stand up to him. I can do this.
Grabbing my school bag off the floor beside the door, I swing it over my shoulder and head out to find Dad waiting for me by the front entrance. “Good, you’re ready,” he says as steps outside.
“What time do you think you’ll be home tonight?” I lock the door and jump down the three steps leading up to our porch.
“I’m on overtime today, so probably not until late. Here.” He takes his wallet out of his back pocket and hands me twenty dollars. “Grab yourself some lunch. Is that enough for dinner too?”
“Yeah, plenty. Thanks, Dad.” I stash the twenty in my back pocket and make a mental note to see if Jared wants to hang out tonight.
He’s got a boyfriend, a guy from a neighboring town. So, Jared and Zane hang out together every chance they get. But, when Zane’s at tennis practice, Jared is either with me or watching Zane.
“What are you doing this weekend? Are you and Jared up to anything?” Dad asks as he drives me to school. Shrugging my shoulders, I verbalize a groan in response to his question. “What was that? Are you and Jared fighting?”
“Nah, we’re not fighting. But I have no idea what we’re doing either. I think Zane’s got a competition and Jared wants to go watch him. I might tag along. I don’t know.” I shrug again.
“Is there a problem with Zane?”
“Nah, nothing like that. I just don’t know what I’ll feel like doing. Maybe I’ll head out somewhere and take some photos.” I love taking photos with my Nikon camera. Whenever I get the chance, I take my camera out and try to find something interesting. People watching is something I love to do. I sit on one of the benches in town, taking photos, wondering about the people walking around. I love going into the city for the day, and hanging out at places where I know people will be.
Ivy, the demon calls.
Ivy. He wants me to pay attention to him, but I refuse to listen to him.
Grumbling softly, I tell him to go away. Now’s not the time for him to rear his ugly head.
“What do you think?” Dad asks.
“About what?”
“You zoned out again. You okay?”
Stupid demon. My attention was on him and I
didn’t hear Dad. “Yeah, I’m okay. Got an essay due for English and I’m worried about it, that’s all.” I quickly cover myself. I’ve learned to live with the demon inside. Sometimes he disappears for an extended period, but he always makes his way back to me, talking to me, drawing on my weakness, dragging me into his world.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart, but I’m no good at English so I can’t help you. If your mother was alive…” Dad’s tone deepens and his words fade away.
My heart hurts for Dad. Mom’s been gone for twelve years, and Dad’s never even looked at another woman. Mom died a month before my fifth birthday. I don’t remember her, but Dad does everything he can to keep her alive for me. Our house has photos of Mom and of all of us as a family all over the place. It’s almost like a shrine to her.
“It’s okay. I’ll be fine. Anyway, what did you ask me?” I try and distract Dad so his mood doesn’t stay somber the rest of the day.
“Maybe at Christmas we can take a vacation. Maybe Hawaii, someplace where there’s sun and a beach?”
Beach? Shit. That means I’ll have to wear a swimsuit, which means, my scars will be easily seen. But I could wear board shorts so the scars on my legs can’t be seen. What about the ones on my stomach? How am I going to hide them? Panic rises within me. My palms sweat and I become more and more edgy.
Ivy.
“What do you think?” Dad asks, dragging me out of my internal discord.
“Yeah, sounds great. I need to lose some weight though.” I tap my stomach and watch the fat jiggle under my touch.
Dad turns to look at me, his brows drawn in together. “You weigh next to nothing, honey. You don’t need to lose any weight at all.” I know, but it’s a justification for covering up.
Ivy.
Go away!
Thankfully, Dad pulls up at school, which means I don’t need to talk to him about our vacation, and I don’t have to worry about something which is still months away. “I’ll see you later, Dad. Do you want me to get you dinner too?”
“I’ll eat at work. See you tonight.” I lean over and give Dad a kiss. I know, lame.
Edge of Darkness Box Set Page 64