Come to Me Quietly

Aly closed her eyes, wishing for a way to make things better, even though she knew there was absolutely nothing she could do.

When she opened them, he was gone.

Aly frowned when she saw her dad’s car parked in the driveway after she got off from school that day. He never made it home before five.

Aly cracked open the door. The second she did, she knew something was off, could feel the tension in the air. Their house had been so much like that lately – off – emotions rising, then waning, heartbreak, then glimpses of joy, slipping back into overwhelming sadness. They’d diagnosed her mom with grief-related depression, had written her some prescriptions to help her get through the time they said would pass. There’d been some days when she never got out of bed, but like her mom had said last night, she was getting better.

Lately Aly never knew what kind of day it was going to be when she walked through the door.

Now she tiptoed inside. Today she wasn’t met with the deluge of sadness. Instead she found anger.

From the foyer, Aly listened to her dad yelling accusations. “They found heroin and stolen pills in his locker, Christopher… You’re telling me you knew nothing about this?”

Dread seized Aly, her heart feeling like it was going to falter while it pounded at the same time.

No.

Aly eased closer, hid herself up against the wall so she could peer inside at what was happening in the kitchen where Christopher sat on a stool at the bar and their father stood looming over him.

“Dad, I promise you,” Christopher said, his voice low and pleading. “I haven’t been doing any of that stuff. Yeah, I drink some and I’ve gotten high a few times, but I haven’t been using. And it’s not like Jared wants anything to do with me now, anyway.”

Christopher’s confession did nothing to calm their father. Instead he roared, “I can’t believe you, Christopher. After all the trust we put in you? Go to your room. You’re grounded… indefinitely.”

“Dad – ”

“Go.”

Christopher’s chair screeched against the tiled floor, and he stormed down the hall to his room. The slam of his door rattled through the house.

“Don’t you think you’re being a little harsh on him, Dave?” Karen looked up when she spoke. Aly could see she’d been crying again. “He’s sixteen… and the last two months have been really tough on everyone. You need to be a little more understanding.”

“What I don’t understand, Karen, is how Jared could do this to his dad. After everything? Does he have any idea the hell he’s already caused his family? And now he’s doing something like this? My God, Karen, the kid had enough drugs in there to get him on intent to sell. He’d better thank his lucky stars he only got expelled and they’re charging him with possession.”

“He’s hurting, Dave.”

“That’s bullshit, Karen. That boy doesn’t care about anyone but himself, and I don’t want my kids anywhere near him. I won’t stand aside and let him take my family down, too.”

Aly’s mom started crying again. “Dave, please.”

Her dad pressed his palms to his wife’s cheeks and tilted her face up to him. “I’m just protecting my family, Karen… what’s most important to me. Don’t ask me to compromise that.”

Aly slid to the floor. She’d already known… had seen it so clearly this morning. She wasn’t surprised. It didn’t mean she wasn’t terrified for him, that he wasn’t hurt and scared and broken.

Because she knew that’s exactly what Jared was.

TWENTY-TWO

Jared

Buzzing filled the confines of the small room, the vibration of the gun an oppressive weight. I struggled for air. A slow blaze lit along the surface of my skin, the burn of the needle branding my chest. I was fucking gritting my teeth, my hands clenched into the tightest fists, my heart racing.

I always knew she’d be another mark. Another scar. Another sin to add to the insurmountable others.

“You doin’ okay, man?” The tattoo artist pulled away from the job, looking up at me in twisted concern, like maybe I was the biggest pussy to ever step through his door.

The guy had me pegged. I was in pain. But not the kind of pain he was faulting me for. This hurt in the fucking darkest place of my spirit, where the obscene consorted with the vile.

“Yep. Perfect,” I forced out, my nails digging into the palms of my hands.

The guy wiped up some of the blood and ink with a paper towel, then leaned in close to color more. “Just about finished here.”

I nodded, but was unable to say anything while I submitted to the abuse the memories of her face inflicted on my already defeated mind. It was already November. More than two months had passed since I left her begging my name, since I fully laid it all to waste, since I swung the final blow.

The greatest lie I’d ever told had been told to Aly.

Yeah, I’d walked away, but there wasn’t a chance in this godforsaken world that I could forget about her.

That girl was unforgettable.

Fucking perfect. Too bright to fully see.