Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 62543 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 313(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62543 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 313(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
“Jay!” I hear a voice scream, and my eyes part slowly. My groggy head sways and I try to blink. The bright lights hurt though. My wrists sting as I pull upward, but they won’t move. It takes a moment as my head lolls to the side to realize I’m in the hospital. Sedated and restrained.
“Jay,” I hear her soft voice and vaguely feel her hands on mine. I turn my hand slightly and she laces her small fingers with mine. My little bird. I’ve held her hand so many times. Her hand belongs in mine. Everything’s okay then. That’s all I need to know that everything’s okay.
Robin, my little bird.
She brought me here.
I expect anger, I expect to hate her. Instead I only feel weak and helpless. The pain in her voice is what does it. I’ve hurt her. I’ll do anything, my little bird. Don’t leave me. Not here, and not ever.
Slowly, the memories come back.
All twenty years and more.
My Robin. My sweet Robin.
I watch her run. I keep watching as the dogs bark behind me. They’re so close, and I’m certain they’re going to get out. It’s only a large stick keeping the cage secured. It’s going to break. I know it will. But when it does, they’ll come for me.
I’ll watch her though. I’ll make sure up until the last moment my life slips from me that she’s free, that she’s running and the dogs stay here. My father will stay here. They can have me, so long as she’s free.
When I turn behind me, finally ripping my eyes away from where she’s gone, it’s only because the sound of boots stomping against the cold hard ground is getting louder. It’s only because I don’t want him to touch me. But the second I turn, the shovel slams against my skull and blackness consumes me. Only the briefest vision of my father follows me to the darkness.
“Jay, please. Stay with me,” I hear her soft voice call out. It’s like an echo in my head.
I’m here. I try to tell her, but my throat isn’t working. My voice isn’t here. I’m here, little bird. We made it. We both made it.
I remember standing outside her house. Across the street and shielded from the row of oak trees, I waited for her to be alone. She came to mine and I followed her home, too afraid of the police. I did that. I burned it down. It was all my fault.
But she has a family who holds her so closely.
And she never looked back.
My hand slips from the tree and the rough bark scrapes my arm. When she ran away… she never looked back. As the anger rises, I hear the footsteps behind me. I turn ready to fight, my movements sharp.
But there’s no one there. Just a voice in my head. I shake my head again. The boy is there. He looks the way I want to look. Who am I?
* * *
“Jay!” Robin’s voice is clear and strong.
“Robin,” I finally answer her and I know she heard it.
Beep. “Turn off,” I try to speak but my throat hurts too much.
“You were intubated, Jay. It’s okay,” I hear her tell me as I fight against the bindings holding me down.
I open my eyes as she yells at someone to turn off the machine.
They tied me up. I stare at the bindings, hating her. She of all people should know.
“Jay, it’s okay,” she tells me as she pats my hand over my clenched fist. “You had ICU psychosis and you tried to rip out your IVs, but you’re okay.” Her words barely register as I pull at the bindings, my muscles coiled, but I’m weak.
“Please, Jay. Please stop,” Robin begs me, her voice strained. Her small hands grab my face, and they’re so soft. Her tears hit my chest hard.
It’s only then I see the wires, all the machines.
“Miss,” a nurse calls out behind Robin as she comes forward to take my Robin away.
“Leave me alone!” Robin cries out and then looks back at me, her hazel eyes pleading with me. “Stay with me, Jay. Please. It’s been days of this. Please, Jay. Stay with me.”
Days?
I still my body, my heart beating rapidly and thumping so hard in my chest it hurts.
“He’s fine!” I hear Robin snap at someone behind her and then sniffle. “Don’t put him back under. He’ll be okay. I know he will,” she says and her voice is so strong.
“Robin, what-?” I can’t finish my sentence as the last memory comes to the forefront of my mind. Over and over I smashed my head against the wall and coffee table, against anything. I wanted him out of my head. Jay… the memories of Jay.
I swallow thickly as Robin talks quietly and calmly, in an even cadence meant to avoid agitation.