Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 91560 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91560 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Grabbing her shorts from the floor, I pull them back over her legs and pull her shirt down to cover her chest. I reach for her comforter from the bottom of the mattress and cover Maya up with it.
There, I’ve done my good deed for the day.
Glancing at the window, I’m ready to get out of here when Maya mumbles something in her sleep. I grin to myself. This could be fun.
Deciding to stay for a little bit longer, I climb back onto her bed and sit next to her with my back against the headboard. “Come on, tell me something embarrassing,” I whisper into the room.
It doesn’t take long for Maya to start murmuring things again, but not much makes sense. “Take out the trash… buy dress… walking dog… homework…”
Folding my arms over my chest, I lean my head back against the wall and close my eyes for a moment while listening to Maya ramble something incoherently. It’s somehow calming me. Her voice slowly lulling me to sleep.
I don’t know how long I’m out for, but it doesn’t seem much when I’m startled awake by a whining sound. My eyes fly open, and I look around for any danger. It takes me a moment to realize where the fuck I am and that the hurt sound comes from Maya, who is having a nightmare right next to me.
“No! Mom…” Her body twists and turns like she is in pain. There is a thin sheet of sweat over her forehead, and her eyes are squeezed shut like she is scared to open them. “Mom!” She yells again, and the pain in her voice makes something in my chest hurt.
“Maya,” I call to her while tapping her arm. “Wake up.”
She turns her head to the side, away from me. “No, please,” she pleads in her dream.
I twist her toward me and shake her. “Maya, wake up!”
When she finally opens her eyes, they are full of terror. I’ve never seen her look like this. Her pupils are dilated, making her eyes seem almost black. She is staring at me with a blank expression, a single tear running down her cheek before she closes her eyes again.
She slumps back onto the mattress, breathing heavily, and her body shaking.
“It was just a dream.” I try to calm her down.
She shakes her head, more tears streaming down her face now. “I did it,” she whispers softly. “I killed my mom.”
What the fuck?
I wonder if I’ve heard her right. But her words echo through my mind. She killed her mom… I try to think back on what I know about her mom, which isn’t a lot. I know she passed away a while ago, but that’s it.
Could Maya really have had something to do with her death? I know Maya has a dark side, but how dark is it? Dark enough to kill her own mother?
18
MAYA
Shit. What the hell happened?
I mean, I’m glad I’m alone in the bed when I wake up with my head pounding and my stomach churning every time I try to move. Funny how it’s easy to forget the concept of a future hangover when every sip of liquor tastes better than the last. I’m paying for it this morning.
But I would be paying a hell of a lot worse if Tucker was still here. Considering nobody came storming in here with a gun in hand or anything like that, I’m guessing he got away before Dad came home. At least he did that much without me having to ask.
But what else did we do?
Think! Right, and maybe for my next trick. I’ll learn how to fly. Thinking is not exactly easy when my brain feels like it is wrapped in cotton, studded with glass shards. But I need to think. I need to remember. Closing my eyes, shutting out as much light as I can, I force myself to relax. It’s easier to let the memories come back on their own rather than trying to dig them out.
I know one thing for sure: the soreness between my legs tells me we had sex. I can barely remember it. Everything’s dark after the point where we were kissing, while he was touching me. I was fully dressed then, even if his hands were moving under my clothes.
Little bits and pieces come at me in flashes, memories that are half-formed. Being aware of him lying beside me afterward. Feeling something rubbing against me down there, something warm and wet. Maybe a washcloth or a towel. He even made sure I was dressed before he left.
I don’t know what to think or how to feel. If I should blame him or thank him for taking care of me.
One thing I do know: I need to get out of this house today, even if the idea of moving makes bile rise in my throat. I feel dizzy just turning my head from one side to the other while it’s still on the pillow. But I need to get out. I’m afraid the longer I stay, the easier it will be for Dad to keep me here.