Page 119 of The Time It Takes
I wanted to die.
He hissed something in my ear about making it hurt and suddenly there was a spot in my mind that became dark enough for me to crawl through.
My head went light and for a moment I considered the possibility of letting myself pass out. I didn’t want to see what was about to happen to me.
With my last breath of air, I screamed for my brother.
I couldn’t hear myself scream as pain bit into me. Then I felt nothing at all as if my body had clocked out. There was still a faint smell of the man’s alcohol-laced breath on my skin. I could do nothing to stop it because I could feel my face going numb from asphyxiation. I could feel my bones going limp and I found myself hoping it killed me.
Just when the corners of my eyes started to go black, someone kicked the door down. “What the fuck?” an enraged deep voice yelled.
I heard a stream of curse words and then air was rushing back into my lungs as the man released me.
My eyes couldn’t focus enough to see the man who’d busted down the door, but I heard him say, “Get out of here, Darlin’.”
Relief swarmed me so hard that another sob wracked my entire body. And then I heard, more than saw the sound of a bone snapping.
I reached for my sweatpants and put them back on as the man wailed.
Tears streamed so hard down my face that I couldn’t see anything as I took off running, not looking back to see my savior. I couldn’t comprehend what had just happened to me. I kept thinking of ways to take it all back. A way to go back in time and make a different choice. I never should have gone alone. I needed to call someone—anyone. I had to get out—out—out.
I was pushing through the crowd with my shoulders. I no longer heard the music. There was only pounding pain. Everything hurt. I ran into someone’s shoulder and collapsed. When no hand reached down to help me up, I was crawling on the sticky floor looking for my phone. I saw something light up out of the corner of my eye and I made my way to it, my vision only becoming blurrier.
I saw Ben’s name flash across the screen of my phone and then seven missed calls.
Oh, God.
I picked my phone up and stood. I ran out of the house and toward the street. I ran until my lungs burned and it overcame every other one of my senses. Ben must be home, I thought. That had to be why he was calling me. He must’ve been wondering where I was. I called back and when it went to voicemail, a sob escaped my body. I stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and balled my hair in a fist at the root until the ache centered me.
My voice shook hard. “Ben, oh G-God. Pl-please, Ben, I need you. Please come pick me up. I’ll send you my location, but Ben so-something happened, and I just need y-you ok? Please. I need you to help me. I d-don’t know where I am. Please h-hurry.”
I hung up the phone, my bottom lip trembling. I slammed my palms against my forehead and threw my fist repeatedly into my hip bone until I felt another type of pain that was caused by no one other than me. I sent him my location even as I continued to run.
I was somehow able to find my way to the house before I heard anything back from him. I walked into the house and there was a never-ending silence awaiting me.
I rushed up the stairs and pulled off every article of clothing. I turned on the water and made sure it was hot enough to burn my skin. I looked down at my thighs and I nearly crumpled to the floor at the sight, but I caught myself on the sink. I took a few deep breaths and got in the shower. I winced at the brutal temperature as I scrubbed every inch of myself until my skin felt raw.
After scrubbing myself eight times, it still didn’t feel like it was enough. My body no longer felt like my own, but something I was now existing outside of. I pulled on the sweatshirt I received from Juilliard and another pair of sweatpants—anything to cover myself. Once I was dressed, I checked my phone again.
Nothing.
I heard the front door open, and I practically threw myself down the stairs. I found Ben standing in the doorway. I approached him slowly. Something about the color of his skin didn’t look right.
“Ben?” My voice sounded raspy and nothing like my own.
His eyes met mine and then something along the lines of relief crossed his face. “Willow,” he muttered before taking four long strides toward me, pulling me into his arms. It felt like he was shivering.
“I—I need to tell you something,” I whispered.
He became a dead weight in my arms and we both collapsed onto the floor. I whimpered at the pain it drove through my knees.
“Ben?” I asked, looking down at his body as I rolled him on his back. He was almost blue, and I realized he’d gone completely still.
No.
No.
No.
