Muted
Page 19
and the
whole wall
opened like a door
and that’s when I saw …
stairs.
darted into the pit of darkness
sniffing and whimpering
every step of the way
And I
ran-and-ran-and-ran
sobbing through panted breaths
A long, winding maze
two walls lined with doors
three to each side.
Chance stopped at the first one
started scratching at it like mad.
That’s when I heard a voice:
“Who’s there?”
on Pristine Road
there lay a hidden maze,
its winding halls
padded with silence,
ceiling to floor,
six doors, equidistant,
each one complete
with a tiny covered window.
If you lifted the first one,
you would see a girl on a bed,
tucked in the corner,
hands clutched on swollen belly
And the second you did,
you would search frantically
for something, anything
to open that door
and break her
F
R
E
E
as Dali stood and ran to me,
her hands reaching through the window,
the warmth of her touch
not enough to keep me from
trying to rip that door off
“I’m so sorry!
I’m so sorry!”
We finished each other’s words
I didn’t
know he
did that
to you
…
us
But that chorus set me off even more
“THIS IS MY FAULT!” I cried.
“I thought if I just did
what Merc wanted, we’d get famous faster.
I didn’t think he would hurt you, too.
I should have said something, Denver.”
Dali started sobbing
whole body convulsing,
sliding down the door.
I yanked and pulled,
begging the universe
for Herculean strength.
“I’m getting you out of here right now—”
Chance started barking like mad.
Was someone here?
“You gotta go back up,” Dali begged.
“I can’t leave you down here!”
“No one will believe us, Denver!
It’s our word against his.
Plus he’s got on us on Insta
saying we chose to come here.”
“Dali, I’ve got the tapes of what he did.
Evidence.”
“And he is never gonna let you leave
this house with those tapes. You need
to get upstairs now, before we’re both
trapped down here!”
“Okay, I’m going, but I will get you out
and I’m gonna make him pay, Dali!”
“Denver?”
“Yes?”
Dali pointed her lips down the hall.
“There are more of us.
They are everywhere.
All around
if you look close enough.”
video evidence tucked beneath the floor,
my mind a revolving swirl of
the girl down the hall from my room
the girl at the concert
the girl in the pool house
the broken girl in the bed (me)
teeth sinking
deeper into bloodied lips.
All the jagged,
splintered
pieces of me
left behind in that studio in New York
without me even knowing
just how far things went
Fragments
left behind with my best friend,
in a hidden dungeon in this house,
left behind onstage
when Merc claimed what was rightfully mine
And a plan began to form in
my good-enough
smart-enough
brilliant brain
I was going to mute this
MONSTER
for good.
covers over my head,
Merc cracked my door open,
walked slowly to me
and touched my hair,
that one touch
turned me to a mountain of ice.
Pretending I was sleeping,
deep breaths in and out,
he whispered in my ear
“Heard you haven’t been feeling good.
I gotta film for a couple days, so I won’t
see you. But Meat will be here,
on double duty. And when
I get back, I’m all yours.”
He kissed my forehead,
and walked out my room
I opened my eyes
and didn’t close them
for the rest of the night.
the gray-eyed monster
kissed his prey
in the still of the night,
not knowing
that come morning,
that one kiss
would birth another monster
far more powerful,
its fangs and claws
dripping with
honey-coated venom.
1:59 a.m.
Sprawled out on the couch,
Meat slept beneath
a cold December moon,
I explored la Casa de Merc,
spider legs scuttled silently,
searching undiscovered rooms,
hunting,
gathering,
until my AliExpress backpack
was filled with
envelopes,
tape,
bubble wrap,
and the most precious
find of all
tucked in an office cabinet:
shiny
black
metal
fire
ready
for
angry
fingertips
at a moment’s notice.
I’d never seen a gun in real life before
not in person
not even in our old ’hood
that Ma and Papi thought was unsafe
At first I couldn’t
bring myself to touch it
It felt heavy
and
dead
and
cold
A bludgeon
An anchor
I had no choice
but to steal it
Figured it was safer with me
than it’d ever be with him
And I was safer with it
than I ever, ever was
with Sean “Mercury” Ellis.
5:21 p.m.
Pulling at the darkening skin
sagging beneath his eyes,
Meat gazed at his reflection
in the mirror above the fireplace.
Cologne freshly sprayed,
bald head, coconut-oil shining.
“Denver, I gotta bounce for like
two, three hours, or my girl’s gonna kill me.”
Hands clutching my belly,
a performance worthy of an Emmy,
I begged, “I need a ride to the store.”
Long, drawn-out sigh. “For what?”
“Maxi pads.”
“Merc’s got plenty of that stuff in the—”
“We’re out. I checked.”
A pause.
I could see Meat’s
brain percolating.
“I mean, I guess you could go
and I’ll just tell Merc and—”
“Nah, he’s still away. I’ll just bring ’em to you.
/>
Er, what kind?”
“Always.
With wings.
Overnight.
Lilac scented—”
“Let’s just hurry up.
Bout to make a brotha late late!”
“Thanks, let me grab my backpack!”
Downtown Alpharetta was lined with
Christmas trees, and hordes of people,
street parking almost impossible to find.
“Can I have some money?” I held out my hand.
Meat shook his head.
“We got a name for folks
like you, where I come from:
Beggin’ Bertha!”
He reached into his pocket and
then pulled out a twenty,
and I hoped it would be enough to do enough.
“Why don’t you stop at that florist down the street?
Get your girl some calla lilies.”
“Nah, I’ma wait. Walgreens is
right there,”
Meat insisted.
My stomach rumbled
tryna figure out how to
get this man OUT my face.
“I mean, I guess if that’s how
you wanna roll up on shortie.
Late and empty-handed.”
Meat eyed the distance
from the pharmacy to the florist.
Close, but not close enough to walk.
“What you say again? Calla lilies?”
I hit him with a nod,
slammed the car door,
and exhaled loud as hell,
as he busted a U-turn in the middle of
Main Street.
to zip in and out
of that post office
next to Walgreens.
Heart pounded,
waiting in a line,
that seemed ten
minutes too long,
I didn’t have that kind of time.
I went up to one of those
speedy self-serve machines,
typed in the address,
fingers frantically
pressing
all the proper buttons
to select media mail
I didn’t care that it’d
take up to ten days
to reach the destination
all that mattered was that it arrived
A hot tear sprinted
down my cheek
as I bypassed
the long line
and placed my package in the outgoing bin
“Miss, are you okay?” the clerk asked.
Could she see
my hands trembling?
Hear the mezzo forte
of my beating heart?
“I’m fine.” I wiped my face,
and hauled ass to the pharmacy,
grabbed the cheapest pads
I could find,
self-checkout to hurry the process.
And just as I walked out
the store,
I bumped into Meat
holding a beautiful bouquet
of calla lilies.
“How’d I do?” He beamed.
“Not bad, lover boy.”
I slapped his shoulder,
walking back to the car.
“Ay yo, where’s my change, Denver?”
“Change?” I smirked
as I opened the door.
“Man, you really don’t know much
about women, do you?
Here’s your quarter.”
because
despite all the pain
brewing within,
I found a gift …
a reason to smile that night.
Meat pulled up to the front steps,
put the car in park,
to let me out.
“Hey, Denver.” He rolled down the window.
“I know this music thing is taking a toll on you.
On the real, I think you can do better
than Merc. Be bigger than him.
But you ain’t hear that from me.
Try and feel better, okay?”
And for a second,
I almost felt bad
for lying to him.
Almost.
“That’s the plan,”
I replied.
And then Meat and his gentle smile
and those flowers
pulled off beneath a darkening sky.
I took one last look
at that mansion,
and whispered to the cold wind,
“I did it, Dali. We did it.”
the front door,
my feet hit the floor running.
I unlocked my phone,
having memorized a series of
codes
Merc changes at will
Fingers scrambled through combinations
till I landed on the most obvious of all
1-2-2-9
his birthday
Home page sprang to life
I couldn’t dial fast enough
She picked up
on the first ring.
“Ma?”
“DENVER?”
Sobbing and screaming became one.
“I don’t have much time.
I just called to say I’m sorry
and
I love you
and
I’m coming home—
“Both me and Dali …
Tonight.”
there was a button
inside me
and someone
clicked ON
I flew down the hall,
backpack strapped
to my shoulders
Pushed on the bookshelf
hard, not caring if
I broke it
Jumped over steps,
two, three at a time
until I reached Dali’s door,
lifted the small window and saw …
no one.
single
door
empty.
MOUTH,
dry.
Hands,
wet.
Feet,
RUN!
UP UP UP the steps!
panic rising
time ticking
… …
I heard the monster’s voice
before I saw
his shadow.
My vocal cords
exploded.
“I know what you are,” I spat at his face,
“and I know what you did to me.
You’re a fucking MONSTER!
Now tell me where Dali is
before I call the cops!”
But he was fast.
Too fast.
Two gloved hands
wrapped tight
around my neck
the weight of them
crushing my instrument
slowly.
But free hands
turned to Brooklyn fists
slamming hard against
Merc’s eyes,
mouth,
nose,
knees-to-nuts,
the final blow.
Chance barked wildly,
darted down the steps,
jumped on his hind legs,
smiling, licking both of us
like it was a goddamned party.
I grabbed a vase
launched it straight at Merc’s head,
heard him wince and fall to his knees
I hauled ass out the kitchen doors,
Chance right on my tail,
past the patio,
past the peach trees,
eyes scanning the darkness
for that broken,
open chain-link fence.
But I was the only one focused
because Chance saw a squirrel
and zipped off in a different direction
There was no time
to grab him
Not when
I realized
Just a few feet more,
I begged my feet to move faster
Because once I got through
that hole,
I was gonna flag down
the first car I saw.
But I heard him closer,
the pounding of his steps
drawing near,
I took one look behind me
and just like the white girls
in the horror movies
what did my Black ass do?
F
A
L
L
Merc
pounced on top of me
and started screaming,
“Bitch, you trying to ruin me?
After everything I did for you?”
That voice echoed up to the clouds
slapping kicking
punching rolling
My backpack ripped open,
black metal rolling out,
reflecting
beneath starry skies …
Some monsters were made of
storms and fire,
with hands
fast enough
to wrap
fingers around
triggers and
P
U
L
L.
A single shot
through my gut
muted Merc
but didn’t end me.
Yet.
Earth’s rotation on pause,
a staggered sip of breath
the gun unreachable
in the grass
But it was fine,
because I won,
no matter what
the universe chose for me next.
The world would know
that Sean “Mercury” Ellis is a predator.
That he hurt Dalisay Gómez
and Denver Lee Lafleur
and God knows how many more?
I didn’t let him get away with it
because my voice STILL mattered
even though he tried
to take it away from me.
ever-so-slowly,
I saw Marissa
dart through tree-lined fields,
moonlight haloing fiery hair,
as Merc towered above me,
sobbing wordlessly as I bled and bled
O
U
T
I heard the panting of her breath,
the desperation in her voice.
“What did you do, Merc?”
“Denver found … She was gonna …”
“Don’t say another word!
You can’t be here!
I told you not to trust this one.
Get back to set. I’ll take care of this.”
I saw Marissa’s gloved hands
wipe down the gun,
collect the shell off the ground.
Run back inside the house
crash expensive vases,
statues, glasses
against Brazilian cherry floors.
Paint the picture
of a crime
of epic proportions.
(Just not the one that actually happened.)