Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 68920 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68920 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Nick.
Fuck.
He could open up a can of fucking worms just by mentioning his own accusations.
“No testimonies,” I lie. “No proof.”
“Good.”
Rylie
“It’s been done. He’s sick and now you’re safe. I’ll keep you safe. He’ll never touch you again. I’ll make sure he stays away for life.”
Aunt Becky’s words play over and over again inside my head on repeat. Cruel and never-ending. For hours she’s attempted to console me, but I want to be left alone. In his space. I pull on his favorite baseball hoodie, curl up on the floor clutching a picture of my family, and cry at the unfairness of it all.
Every. Single. Last. One. Of. Them.
All taken from me.
Aunt Becky comes down a lot to check on me and tries to get me to eat or drink. I can’t answer her. I can’t look at her. All I can do is wonder what I did to deserve a life like this.
I was happy.
All the pain and suffering caused by the turmoil of loving my brother when I wasn’t supposed to had come to an end.
Because he loved me too.
I no longer had to hide in the darkness of my mind.
He was there to find me. To hold me. To kiss and make love to me.
Now he’s gone.
“It’s been done. He’s sick and now you’re safe. I’ll keep you safe. He’ll never touch you again. I’ll make sure he stays away for life.”
But what is my life without him in it?
Can I bear to be driven back into the darkness? A leper because of the way my heart bleeds for someone deemed untouchable? Two souls desperate for the other and life’s the puppet master who says they can’t be together.
Life’s a bitch.
A bigger bitch than Aunt Becky.
If Mom were here, she’d be furious. I wasn’t joking when I told Hudson she’d hit him with his baseball bat. But Mom always protected her kids. She loved us fiercely. I think she would have tried to understand. Dad might have been the one to make her see.
They wouldn’t have sent the other half of my heart away.
My parents would have found a way for us to be a family. Just like they always found a way to pay for baseball and doctor bills. They were resourceful and protective.
Pain, unlike anything I’ve ever felt before, makes my stomach seize violently. I’ve long since thrown up the cake from last night. All I can do is hurt and shudder and shiver and beg.
“He’ll never touch you again. I’ll make sure he stays away for life.”
Thoughts of Hudson locked away shred my heart. Someone so beautiful and loving doesn’t deserve this. It’s unfair.
Aunt Becky comes and goes once more, the worry evident in her eyes that match Mom’s, as she attempts to get me to go to bed at least. Eat some toast at least. Drink some tea at least.
All I can do is stare vacantly at her.
My tears have no end.
They just fall and fall and fall.
And fall.
“Mommy,” I sob, my finger caressing the side of her face through the glass in the frame. “Daddy.”
When I look at my brother’s happy grin, the crack that had been whittling itself through my heart finally succeeds. I’m torn in two, my soul seeping out and soaking into the carpet.
“I’ll make sure he stays away for life.”
The pain is too much. I’ll never recover from this. I won’t ever move on from him. He’s my one true love and I don’t give a fuck about society. Fucking hypocrites. People lie and cheat on their spouses. They abuse children. Fudge on their taxes. File bankruptcy and don’t pay their bills. They hit the ones they love. Say cruel things to the ones they care about. They want equality for blacks and gays and women and transgenders and immigrants.
But this?
They can’t fucking deal with this?
A brother and sister who are madly in love.
Sick and healed by one another.
Not hurting a goddamned person.
They find this—us—the stain on humanity they just can’t get past? They create laws in Monfuckingtana that say people like us are doomed for prison for a hundred years? For what? Love.
Fuck them.
Fuck those hypocrites.
Liars and abusers.
Scammers.
Blind fucking masses who say what we have is disgusting and gross.
Fuck them!
I rise on shaky feet and throw a pile of boxes into the floor. I want to destroy everything. This house. This world. Everyone in it.
I hate them.
I hate them for preaching love and not following through.
If this world is full of them and they won’t let me have the one thing that keeps me here, then they can fucking have it all.
“Why does our love story have to be a tragedy?”
“Mom and Dad’s love story was a tragedy. I guess all the good ones are.”
“Not ours, baby. Ours won’t be a tragedy.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
Hudson. I’m sorry we didn’t win. I’m sorry our love story was a tragedy too.