Page 4 of Misery Manor

Looking around the table, I watch each of my friends’ faces carefully. If I wasn’t mistaken, I’d say they look…

Guilty. But why?

One glance at Anya and Cherise’s whispered conversation, their eyes darting to me every so often, tells me all I need to know.

They weren’t expecting me to show up tonight, which means they’ve likely known about Megan and Jamal for a while and chose not to tell me.

Tears begin to burn the backs of my eyes, and I realize that my so-called “friends” don’t care about me.

I think back to all the times when I’ve gone out of my way to do things for them, like sitting with Anya and holding her hand while waiting for the pregnancy test results because she didn’t trust anyone else with her secret, and subsequently crying with her when she decided to have the pregnancy terminated.

Or when Ronnie needed someone to bail him out of jail because everyone else was fine with letting him sit there all night. He never paid me back, by the way, but I never made a big deal out of it because friends take care of each other, right?

I also recall when Tyler and Cherise needed a witness at their courthouse wedding ceremony, and I dropped everything I was doing to be there for them because their parents didn’t support them, and they didn’t have any reliable friends they could have trusted; they only just recently told the rest of the group that they’re married.

But when my mom died, not one of them bothered to attend her funeral. I didn’t receive a card, a flower, or even a hug to let me know they cared. I’ve given so much of myself to them, and they never once bothered to give me the same courtesy in return.

Some friends they are.

I don’t know why it took me this long to come to the realization that they basically hate me. The funeral should have been the biggest clue, but I’d talked myself into believing that they were simply too busy to come.

“Well, maybe they’re not the affectionate types,” I’d convinced myself when no one bothered to comfort me when I told them the news of her death, never mind the fact that I’d seen them all hug each other many times before.

But even though I know they’re not good for me, I still tried to make things work with all of them, because they’re the only ones I have left. I guess that’s why I let Jamal treat me the way he does.

I’m so deep in my thoughts that when Megan’s laugh brings me back to the present, I nearly jump out of my skin. I look over to see Jamal whispering something in her ear, and she pushes him away playfully.

Really? Right in front of me?

I wonder what she would think if she knew about Jamal’s true nature. Would she still pursue him? Does he even treat her the same way he treats me?

Judging by the flirty nature of their conversation, I'd say no.

The others continue talking like I'm not even here, and I look around the bar awkwardly, wondering if I should just get up and go home.

I’m about to do just that when Anya says, “We should go to Misery Manor.”

Misery Manor is the new haunted house attraction that just opened up last month. It also doubles as an escape room, and it’s supposed to be intense. Or, at least, that’s how it’s described on the Manor’s social media pages. I haven’t seen a single person leave a review of it, but the few videos they have up show people looking terrified as they’re being chased by a scythe-wielding scare actor in a white mask.

“That sounds like fun!” I say.

The others look at me, some with a brow raised, others irate that I even spoke.

“Oh,” Tyler says, less enthusiastic than he was before. “I guess you can come with us, Aliyah.”

My stomach churns with embarrassment; I guess the invitation wasn’t being extended to me.

I mumble out a thanks and chew on my bottom lip, looking everywhere except my friends’ judging faces.

Everyone finishes their food and drinks quickly before we get up to leave. On the way out, I grab Jamal’s hand again, and this time he doesn’t pull away, but he doesn’t return my grip, either.

We all decide to leave our cars at the bar and ride together in Ronnie’s minivan. Jamal follows Megan inside to the back seat, and a flash of anger slashes through me. I decide to sit on the opposite side of him, so he’s in between us.

Once we’re all in, Ronnie pulls out of the parking lot and down the road.

CHAPTER 3

ALIYAH