I don’t know what propelled me to do so, but I climbed onto the windowsill. I sat there, as my legs hung freely off the side of the warehouse. When I look down, it looks far, but I know that if I jumped, I wouldn’t die. Remember, rest of the story.
Chris didn’t need to know about this window, but I’m sure he’d find out. It just wouldn’t be coming from me. Speaking of Chris, I heard him scream my name from downstairs. It scared me so much that I almost fell out of the window.
I hurry, but carefully climb back inside, dust off the back of my pants and run downstairs before he came up to get me.
When I got downstairs, I rested my hands on my knees, and breathed rapidly to catch my breath. When I was done throwing a fit, I straightened up and looked at Chris. He returned my look with pity.
“What? I look that bad?” I joke, but his silence answered my question. I swallowed, feeling the bottomless pit that I called my stomach. “Well then,” I say because every girl wanted to be told that they look terrible. I can’t possibly look as bad as I feel.
I refuse to beg him to buy me anything; I won’t give him the satisfaction. That is what he wants, and I won’t give it to him. I guess his love for me is so deep that he doesn’t care what I look like, or if I piss myself, or if I smell like a sewer.
“When are we getting out of here?” I asked him. He lit a brand-new candle and sat on the couch.
“I thought that it’d be ready by now, but it’s not. My cousin needs more time.” He sniffs. He must be coming down with something from the weather. “But I know how to get you out of here, and with me faster.” He said. I sat next to him on the couch, intrigued. “I’ll tell you when I’m done with the story,” He says. Great. I think. So that’ll be never.
“I see that look on your face, so I’m going to finish the story, today.” He said. He smiled once he saw the smile that emerged on my face. I haven’t smiled in a long time, mostly because lately there hasn’t been anything to smile about. But, now that I was going to find out what really happened to my innocent sister, I feel like that piece of information would help patch a hole in my heart; to provide that closure I’ve been missing feels really good.
“Ready? Because this gets a bit . . .” He makes a hand gesture that I ignored. I nod hungrily.
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” I say with a hint of sarcasm, biting my lip.
“One day I went to your mom’s house, she seemed . . . different. I asked her what was wrong, and she just said that your dad relapsed.” He stopped, expecting for this part of the story to be hard for me to hear, but it wasn’t. I was over my dad, and the roller coaster he was on.
“A few days after that, she saw me looking at the pictures again, so she told me that I should meet you. I really wanted to meet you, but when I showed up, I saw you walk someone you shouldn’t have into your apartment.” He hinted. My throat bubbled and I felt I had to puke but couldn’t. “I waited in my car, trying to decide if I should go in and shoot him, or wait until he left and go in myself . . . like I’d planned,” He said.
“You didn’t see him leave Chris? You didn’t have to go up there and push me. I didn’t belong to you!” I exclaim, standing up. I screamed so loud I thought that even the farthest civilization would be about to hear me.
“No, calm down I was harmless, I wouldn’t have hurt you.” He tried to coax me to sit back down.
“Bullshit Chris! Why were you in a mask?” I shouted, not lowering my tone.
“I-I didn’t want him to know that I was the one who did it. I value someone close to him.” I sat back down, gripping the couch so hard, I thought I would rip it apart.
“Like I said before, I didn’t know that Marie even existed—even from the pictures because I’d never seen her. I thought he was still with you and—and that you guys were . . . but then she attacked me, I—I panicked!” He cried.
“Bullshit! I call Bull on the whole thing! She was a kid; she couldn’t have hurt you!” I exclaimed while throwing my hands into the air, hoping one of them would swipe Chris right across the face. I didn’t know what to feel, I didn’t know the right emotion appropriate for the situation. Suddenly, the room was spinning, and I was seeing red.
“She was a child, with an umbrella! How is that attacking you?” I repeat, screaming.
He seemed overwhelmed because now he was grabbing at his hair, and shutting his eyes, trying to shake my voice away. “I didn’t mean to! I’m not a murderer! I didn’t want to,” He screamed back at me, returning my tone. He gets up and paces back and forth.
“You didn’t look like you felt remorse afterwards. You looked proud, I couldn’t see your face, but I can tell by the way you walked out of there,” I challenge.
“I wasn’t proud! It tore me apart,” He yelled, charging towards me, grabbing me tight by the shoulder and shaking me. At this point, I feared for my life, all bets are thrown out of the window. He promised he wouldn’t hit me, but who cares about a promise at a time like this. I shook in his arms, but not because he was shaking me.
He saw the fear in my eyes and let me go, but his anger was still there.
“I went back to Khalia after everything happened, sobbing to her. I was angry. I told her it was all her fault, and I kind of got aggressive with her. I threatened her, that if she told anyone that I would kill you. Khalia sent me over there, it was her fault. I was just fine staring at your pictures, I could have met the real you on my own time!” He screamed.
“Chris,” I say, lowering my voice. “She didn’t force you to go over there. You decided that on your own. She just gave you my address.” He shook his head furiously. I still didn’t completely know why my mom had given my address to someone I, personally, had never met. If she wanted us to meet, she could have had dinner at her house. This could have gone so many ways, but it went in the worst direction possible.
“You don’t get it,” He forced. “I told my cousin the truth. We’d been through too much together for me to lie. So, she helped me. We spent day and night plotting. She even quit her job and had to get a new one. I knew she wouldn’t leave me because of a terrible mistake I made. Instead, she wanted me to get revenge, but I loved you. She needed to understand that I loved—love you. So, she wasn’t apart of much of the plan, but she was there to help whenever I needed her.”
He starts to laugh hysterically. “It was actually her idea for me to peruse you for whom I am. I’d get the kiss, the love, and the . . .” He starts.
“Stop right there, buddy,” I warn. The more I got to know him, the more I think he is a complete nut job. How did he make it this far in life without being committed into a mental hospital? Surely, his aunt must have noticed that he off. This is insane, I want to leave. I got the story, I want to leave, I need to leave. “You said that you had a way I could leave . . . how?” I asked.
He looked at me like he had another bomb to drop on me. “Marry me,” He asked. I nod slowly, signing that I heard what he was saying, and that I would consider. I act as calm as I could, before I make a break for the stairs.
“Hey!” Chris calls after me. I heard his heavy footsteps stomping after me. I don’t look back, I keep running. When I get to the third floor, I look at the open window like it could save my life or end it, I’d rather take the chances. I don’t outright leap out of it, but I get in a seating position and jump feet first. I land on my leg in the worst possible way, and I scream in pain. I might have broken something or sprang my ankle. As if on cue, I hear thunder, but no signs of rain yet.
“Hold on, I’m coming,” Chris screams from the window. He sounded less angry, and more like he just wanted to lick my wounds.
I stand up slowly, and then started to run for my life. I had no idea where I was, but anywhere was better than back there. I picked a direction and stuck to it. I limped through the woods, to make it harder for him to follow me in his truck.
I didn’t have the energy for this, but at this moment it didn’t seem to matter. My pain overshadowed any hunger I m
ight have felt before, and my need to survive overpowered everything.
I found a thick tree once I was far enough into the woods, and hid behind it, groping at my ankle. The rain started to fall slowly at first, but then hard and vigorous. This is the closest I’ve had to a shower in weeks. I started to sob while keeping my noise level to a minimum. How could everything go so wrong in my life? What did I do to deserve this?
Chris was following me now, because I heard him sounding my name in the distance. If he gets too close, run. I had on his shirt, an undershirt, and jeans . . . almost the same thing I’d been wearing when I left almost two weeks ago. But now, I was stripping myself of the shirt Chris gave me and pulling up the bottom of my pants so I could clearly see my ankle.
I ran backwards, dropping the shirt in the wrong direction, and kept going. If Chris did find my shirt, he would follow whatever direction he thinks I went in after taking it off. Fortunately, the rain was starting to wash away any footprints I may have left behind in the mud.
Panting, I look up from the trees, trying to determine if I’d just gone in a circle. I need to find a road. I could barely keep my eyes open; the rain trickled through my lashes, and into my tired eyes. But I kept going. The good news was that I didn’t hear Chris chanting any longer.
Though, it’s early afternoon, it looked like the sun had already set. Of course, I took another break; I’m running with zero energy, and an injury.
As soon as I decided to stop, I tilt my head a little to the left, peeking around the row of trees in front of me, and found a road. Go. I go. I sprinted as fast as I could, trying to keep the pressure on my ankle to a minimum. I fall out into the open road, exhausted. I lay there, finding it difficult to move. My breath was heavy, making it hurt whenever I breathed. I couldn’t describe it, but my chest hurt in exhaustion.
Could that be? I heard tires on the cement, splashing rain. When I look over, there’s a car coming my way, and I was relieved to know that it wasn’t Chris’s truck.
I wave my arms in the air, sitting up, trying to scoot myself into the middle of the road. She saw me but drove right past me. I collapse to the ground again, but to my surprise, she pulled over.
“Please,” I shout over the rain. She hurries over to me.
“Do you need to go to the hospital?” She asks, helping me up. I stood on one leg and let the other one go limp. She helps me into her passenger seat and gets in.
“I need you to take me somewhere.” I told her the address, and she complied without question. She kept glancing over at me, considering how hard I was breathing. I was probably filthy from rolling around in the woods, and I don’t want to mention the fact that I hadn’t showered.
“You wouldn’t happen to have any food, would you?” I asked, listening to my stomach.
She reaches into her backseat. “My lunch from work, I didn’t finish it.” I grabbed the half-eaten BLT sandwich from her. The sandwich reminded me of Chelsea, and I ached to be with her, but unfortunately, I have a more important stop to make.
The sandwich tasted different; it was delicious. I appreciated every bite I took and savored the texture of the bread and lettuce. I didn’t even care that she had taken a bite previously. “Thank you,” I told her. There aren’t many people who would pick someone up that looked like I did at that moment, give them their food, and take them where they asked to go. The world is a cruel place, and there are people like this that keep it going.
She nodded. She didn’t speak much, but she did check on me from time to time to make sure I wasn’t dead, I certainly looked the part.
I pulled down the mirror to the car, and see bags around my eyes, my hair is starting to frizz as it tries to dry from the rain, and my face is caked with dirt. I try and wipe it away, but I did nothing but stir it. I hastily put the mirror back up, feeling self-conscience. I curl up in the seat, facing away from the windows, and anything I could see my reflection in.
We drove for about forty-five minutes before I felt the car slow down. I adjust myself to look up. We were driving down a residential area. It was a familiar road that I had driven down my entire life. Before I knew it, we were pulling into my parents’ house. I thanked the lady once more, got out, and banged on their front door.
Chapter 26
To my relief, my mom answered the door. When she saw me, her eyes nearly popped out of her head. I pushed past her, closing, and locking the door behind me.
“Mama, you and dad have to leave. You have to get out of here, now.” I say, urgently. I go to her room and start throwing clothes onto their bed.
“Oh, no,” She finally spoke. “You know,” I had almost forgotten how involved with Chris my mom really was. I started to cry but stopped myself. Suddenly, I was angry.
My dad appeared in the doorway, with concern in his eyes. “I have to tell you something,” My mom said.
“Yeah, I know half of the story, but he left some stuff out,” I continue throwing clothes from the drawers onto their beds.
“He told me he wouldn’t hurt you as long as I was quiet,” She cried.
“He didn’t, I did this to myself,” I say, looking down at my ankle.
“That damned Brown family. I met Linda when I came to America. She had issues, but she hid them. If you looked at her, you’d think she had everything together, but she was just like her sister.” My mom continued to cry.
“What does Linda have to do with Katarina’s disappearance?” My dad asked. A glint of hope appeared in my eyes, as I turn to look to my dad.
“You’ve been looking?” I asked, remembering the dream I’d had.
“Of course,” He smiled; my mom was still standing beside him, crying.
“Everything is my fault.” She confessed. On that note, I turn back around and keep packing. Now, I was stuffing their clothes in separate suitcases.
“Can someone get me a phone?” I ask, looking back at my two staggering parents. I needed to call Chelsea, tell her to get out of the apartment. I don’t know what Chris would do to her because of my escape, but I didn’t want to find out.
My dad left and came back with the house phone. I dialed Chelsea’s number and packed the suitcases at the same time. It rang three times before she answered.
“Khalia? Thomas? Is everything okay?” She asked, answering the phone out of breath.
“Katarina?” She screamed over the phone.
“I need you to listen very closely to me, okay?” I didn’t give her time to answer before I kept going. “You need to leave, go somewhere no one would think to look for you, and stay there, okay?” I demand.
“Huh?” She asked. “What are you talking about? I’m with Chris right now, hold on.” She said. I went silent for a minute. I stopped packing; I stopped everything, listening to the other line of the phone.
“Can I speak to him?” I asked her. I look over at my mom while she whispers to my dad in the corner.
“Hello, darling,” He said. I wondered what was going through Chelsea’s mind right now. “I’ve been so worried about you, are you okay?” He asked.
“What are you going to do to her?” I growl. There was silence on the other end, and then he spoke.
“Nothing,” After more silence, he continues. “Can I come and see you?” He asked. I could tell he was only asking for show, otherwise, he would just come over here and take me.
“Yes, but leave Chelsea where she is,” I threaten. “I swear to god, Chris.”
“I will . . . I’m a man of my word.” Then the line cuts out. I zip the suitcases and throw them at my parents.
“You have to leave, now,” I beg. I go into the kitchen to get water out of the fridge that I knew no one had tampered with. It felt good, the coldness meeting my dry throat.
“Why aren’t you guys gone yet?” I yelled. I seriously needed them to be gone before Chris got here.
“I’m staying, I can talk to him.” My mom demanded. My dad just stood idly by, not kn
owing the full story. “I knew that we should have moved out after the Brown’s tried to come to Marie’s party. They always find a way to come back. A shame she had four kids involved in her antics.” My mom continued.
“Wait, hold on a minute.” I said, sitting my water down. My brows furrowed as I look at my parents back and forth. “The Brown family? As in . . . Travis Brown?” I asked dumb founded. Small parts of Chris’s story started to piece in for me.
So, Travis was involved the entire time . . . just as I suspected. I was wrong about him, but right in so many ways. When Chris said that I invited someone into my apartment that I shouldn’t have, he meant Travis. He was so upset that he wanted to kill Travis, not me. He told me he wasn’t that close to the male cousin. What’s next? Chelsea turns out to be the female cousin and I was just in a web all along?
“I’m guessing you know him,” My mom concluded. “He was always a nice young man, just like Marie. I prayed for his survival in that family every day.”
When I look beside me, I notice that they had dropped their suitcases, anger flared up inside me.
“Are you guys serious?” I gestured at the suitcases. They wanted to stay—my mom wanted to stay, and whatever my mom did my dad was going to follow suit, considering he didn’t know what was going on.
“I won’t leave, Katarina,” My mom demanded, still masking her sobs. Why did she have to be this difficult? “I have another confession,” She stated. She went into her bedroom and came back out with a gun in hand.
“What are you doing?” I asked her, genuinely terrified. My dad flinched and looked at where he hid his alcohol. He looked to me, and I shake my head, now isn’t the time for a relapse. I usher my dad closer to me, so he was away from open fire. If only I could just separate my mom from the gun, and get her to leave, that would be great.
“At the nursing home, I tried to kill myself, but Chris didn’t let me. We struggled, and the gun went off as it was aimed at my leg. I couldn’t live with all that I’ve caused.” She sobbed. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to shoot myself, I wouldn’t put you through the pain of seeing two people you loved die.” She continued. She looked at my dad after she sat the gun on top of her suitcase. They embraced each other, crying. He had no one; He let her battle all of this while he was drunk. He felt he was being insensitive, and I completely agree.