The Voice Page 2
Take care,
Mike
Wow. What a jerk. But men were pigs and I already hated them all. Except my brothers . . . and the voice. Crap—don’t think about the voice. Count.
“Kate?” I handed her the paper, forcing myself to focus. She stood there, stunned.
I slipped out of her room unnoticed and went back down the hall to the guest room. With Kate distracted, I figured this was the best opportunity I would get. All I had to do was decide how to proceed.
But Kate was crying, and I couldn’t think clearly. I closed the door and walked to the window, looking out the back of the house.
Why did life have to be so painful?
Unlocking the window, I tried to slide it open, but it was stuck. With my weight against it, the window finally budged, slowly inching open. The golf course was empty, and with my parents so far away, I felt free to do it. With tears in my eyes, I shoved the screen out and let it fall. The frame bent when it hit the ground, causing me to flinch. How did I even get to this point?
“Why?” I screamed outside. “I hate you!” My chest felt heavy, like a large boulder was pressed against it, suffocating me.
My gaze fell on the concrete patio below. I knew I had to jump head first, just to be sure. It would be physically painful, but that would be it. Then it would be over. All of it. The memories, the pain. The sound of Kate crying brought back thoughts of being locked in the cabin. I grasped the window ledge and climbed up, trying to balance my body in the small area. The frame poked into my knees.
Don’t.
I froze, startled. It was the voice. I never thought I would hear him again. My heart pounded into overdrive.
Think of what it would do to your family if you killed yourself now.
A flood of warmth washed through me. The voice was back and he still cared about me. I slid my feet down on solid ground and backed away from the window. My legs hit the bed, my body collapsing onto it.
“Where have you been? Why did you leave me?” My hands clutched the bedspread. “I needed you.”
Memories swam through my head. After my uncle kidnapped me, he locked me in a dark cabin for weeks. Bill was the only person I saw, and he became my darkest demon. Whenever Bill arrived, I knew what he came for, and a piece of me died each time he used me, until there was barely anything left. Then the voice came, comforting me. He helped me hold myself together, and he gave me hope. He offered companionship that developed into friendship. He made me feel safe. But I hadn’t heard the voice since I was rescued. Where had he gone? Why had he left me? I covered my face with the bedspread and screamed into it. The tears kept flowing.
When I woke up, it was dark outside. I heard crickets chirping, sprinklers watering the golf course, and Aunt Kate on the phone in the other room. The pain was always worse at night—when it was dark, and I was alone.
Back home, whenever I wanted to cry, I had to be quiet. Everyone was so worried about me. They wanted to know what happened, but I couldn’t tell them things that were more horrible than their worst nightmares. Not so they could look at me with even more pity. Even the therapist would unknowingly cringe or furrow her eyebrows during our sessions.
When the three hunters had found me, I was so relieved that I was going to get my life back. But I was wrong. The damage had been done. To make matters worse, everyone in the country knew who I was. My picture had been all over the news for nearly two months. By the time the police arrested Bill, everyone knew what had happened to me—even if they didn’t know all the details. And the fact that he was my dad’s brother made the headlines even bigger. But that was nothing compared to the memories that still haunted me. I would never be rid of them. Or him. Never.
I slid off the bed and crossed my arms. Even though the voice had distracted me, I still knew what I wanted and was going to go through with it this time. If the voicetruly cared about me, he never would have left me. I slipped into the bathroom looking for pills, but the medicine cabinet had been emptied.
The sound of footsteps came from the hallway. Without thinking, I bolted and ran down the stairs before Kate could stop me. When I reached the front door, I threw it open and took off into the night, not knowing where I was going. But it didn’t matter.
I could almost feel Bill’s calloused hands around my neck, my waist, my thighs. I could almost feel him forcing himself onto me. I ran faster, willing the nightmare to end.
Chapter 4
Tears streamed down my face as I ran, imagining Bill behind me. I fell, picked myself back up, and when my stomach cramped, I kept running anyway, willing the pain to overtake the memories. I must have gone at least two miles before slowing down to think of another way to kill myself. I needed to do it before changing my mind, or before the voice tried to stop me again.
Perhaps if he hadn’t left me, I wouldn’t be this bad off. And why did he only come around when I was at my lowest and most desperate? How dare he show up now. It wasn’t fair.
I turned down another street that looked identical to the one I was just on. Following the sound of the cars ahead, I ran until the neighborhood ended at a busy four-lane road. Several cars sped by, inches from me. Perhaps if I stepped in front of one . . . but I wasn’t that brave. Maybe there was a store up ahead. I could grab some over-the-counter medication and take it all—that wouldn’t be too painful, right?
Wrong, answered the voice. It doesn’t really make any sense to kill yourself now, does it? He sounded desperate.
“Yes,” I said, “it does.” Living was too painful. My stomach tightened as if worms were crawling inside of it.
You could’ve killed yourself that first day.
The memory hit me so hard that I stopped running and dropped to my knees. I had been in my bedroom, getting ready to go to the movies with my friends. I heard the front door open and close. Sticking my head out of my room, I expected to see my mom. Instead, Bill stood in the entryway, looking up at me from the first floor. He asked if anyone was home, and I told him no, Dad wasn’t going to be home until later.
A wicked smile slowly spread across Bill’s face, and his eyes became dark. He didn’t leave as I expected, and I immediately knew something was wrong. Bill always hugged me a little too long and stared at me. One time he sat down on the couch next to me and ran his hands through my hair, commenting on how good it smelled. How silky and smooth it felt. I tried to move away from his touch, but he put his hand on my leg and squeezed. It freaked me out. When I told Mom that he made me uncomfortable, she said I was overreacting. Dad said I was being ridiculous and not to worry—Bill was my uncle, and he was just teasing me.
Still smiling, Bill started up the stairs, his eyes locked on mine. I told him I was heading out, but he just laughed and said he knew. He kept coming closer. Then his hand flew toward my arm, and I stumbled into my bedroom, kicking the door shut. I tried to shove my wood dresser in front of the door, but Bill was too quick. He burst inside running toward me. His arms wrapped around my upper body, and I screamed, kicked, and thrashed around. He was too strong, and his arms only tightened.
Bill carried me out of the room. My back was to his chest; his arms holding mine down. I remembered feeling his sweaty torso on my back, and his warm breath in my ear. He smelled like a combination of dirty shoes, potato chips, and body odor. Wiggling my body like a fish out of water, I managed to smash a family picture hanging in the hallway and rip off his watch. I had no idea what he was going to do with me, but I had no intention of cooperating. He dragged me down the stairs, and I kept fighting. Wildly kicking at him with my boot, I whacked the spindles of the banister, managing to break a few.
When Bill saw the damage, he was so upset that he pulled a knife out of his back pocket and shoved it against my ribs. He was joking, right? This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real. Bill said that if I wanted to live, I had to be quiet and cooperate while he took me out to the car. With all my strength, I turned sideways and slammed my elbow into his stomach. The knife dug deeper, pier
cing my skin. Blood trickled down the front of my shirt. I froze. He was serious, and I didn’t want to die. It had to be a bad dream. Little did I know, that was only the beginning of a real nightmare.
The voice was right. I could have died then, but chose not to. Instead, I survived—barely.
I was on my hands and knees, crying. If I’d known what was in store for me, I would have let him kill me then.
But the worst is over. You didn’t go through all that just to let him win.
That got my attention. What was the point of living through Bill—through the rape, the pain, all the emotional crap—just to commit suicide?
I nodded. As much as I wanted to end the pain, the voice was right.
And don’t forget about your family. Your brothers, your parents, your aunt. Think of what it would do to them if you killed yourself after everything they went through to get you back.
I hadn’t thought about that. My family had refused to give up searching for me. If I chose to end my life now, they would never understand. It would devastate them. A small flash of logic broke through, along with complete exhaustion.
I collapsed on the sidewalk and let the tears escape. It was hard to focus on anything specific, but I kept trying to hold on to that familiar voice of reason. The strong voice that knew me, that kept me coping through it all. He was still fighting for my survival, and because he had reminded me that I had something to live for, I knew I could keep on going.
I would find a way through this.
A hand lightly rocked my shoulder. I jumped, recoiling from whoever it was.
“Makayla?” a guy asked.
I sat up and backed away, my eyes struggling to adjust. A dark figure stood over me, but I couldn’t make out his features. Behind him, a vehicle was idling with the headlights on, making it impossible for me to see his face. There was another person standing farther back. Oh crap, what had I gotten myself into now?
It’s okay, Audrey. You can trust him. Go with him. He’ll take you back to your aunt.
I couldn’t believe the voice was still with me. “Please don’t leave me again,” I whispered.
The guy hovering over me held out his hand. “Makayla? Kate’s looking for you.” Why was he calling me Makayla? And who was he?
I looked at his hand, unable to touch it.
It’s okay. You can get up on your own. Come on now, get up and follow him. Kate’s worried.
Slowly I stood, realizing belatedly how dizzy I was.
“Are you all right? I’m Caleb. This is my brother, Justin.” He pointed to the person standing back next to the Jeep. “We live next door to your aunt.”
Suddenly everything started to fade to black with small dots of light. In what felt like slow motion, I began to fall. But Caleb caught me right before my head hit the ground. He picked me up. He touched me.
I felt vomit rising. I was so dizzy. Closing my eyes, I tried to ground myself in the present. I heard cars whizzing by, a dog barking in the distance, sprinklers watering something. Caleb put me down gently against rough fabric. Taking a deep breath, I opened my eyes. I was lying in the backseat of the Jeep, and Caleb huddled close by, his hand on my forehead. I jerked away from him, but the contact was more than I could handle. Everything went black.
When I came to, the vehicle was moving and Caleb was talking.
“She fainted, but we’ll be back at the house shortly, Kate. Are you sure you don’t want us to take her to the hospital?” He paused and then said, “Okay. See you in a minute.”
I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and counted to one hundred. When the car stopped, the door flew open.
“Oh, thank God.” Kate sounded relieved.
“Here, I’ll get her out,” Caleb said.
I was too weak to protest when he lifted me up. Keep counting, I reminded myself. Caleb carried me inside and laid me on the couch. I heard Kate talking, and then the front door closed and it was quiet.
“Please, Audrey, tell me you’re okay?”
I forced my eyes open. Kate knelt beside me, her face pinched with worry. “I’m okay.” My voice sounded raspy. I hadn’t had anything to eat or drink since I left Pittsburgh.
“What were you doing running off like that?” she demanded.
I turned away. “Who’s Makayla?”
“Mike’s sister. I used her name so the boys wouldn’t know who you are.”
“Boys?” I vaguely remembered two people.
“Caleb and Justin. They’re the twins from next door. Seniors, like you. I work with their mom at the high school.”
It was hard to remember anything about them—other than the fact that one had touched me. But I seemed to be okay. I survived. Of course, I had heard the voice again. He’d gotten me through it. “I’m sorry, Kate.”
I turned to look at her. Kate was playing with her engagement ring while biting her lower lip. She probably regretted taking me in, now that she understood how messed up I really was.
“It won’t happen again,” I said. “I promise. Please don’t tell my mom. I don’t want her to worry.”
“Audrey . . . I can’t begin to comprehend what you’ve had to endure. I want to help you, but I have no idea what you need to get through this.” Her hands shook ever so slightly.
“Please stop,” I begged. “Please. You can’t do anything for me but let me be. Let me work through this on my own. My mom couldn’t give me the space I needed. Plus, being in that house—it was too much. I just need time and space.” I tried to sound convincing. I had no idea what I needed. Especially since I was going to stay in the land of the living.
She didn’t respond for a few seconds. “You were planning to kill yourself, weren’t you?” Kate pushed my hair away from my face. I didn’t flinch under her touch. “Audrey, if anything happens to you, I’m responsible. I can’t let you hurt yourself. Maybe we need to call your therapist.”
“No.” There was no way I was going to do that. If my therapist found out, she would want me to return home so she could medicate me again. And I couldn’t let that happen. The medication put me in a fog and made me feel vulnerable. “The truth is, I did consider ending it all. It seemed like an easy way out.” Taking a deep breath, I continued forcefully, “But I didn’t go through all that I did just to kill myself. That would make everything I’ve endured pointless.”
Kate didn’t look convinced. She was going to send me back. “What can I do to prove it to you?”
Kate stared deep into my eyes. It was hard having someone this physically close to me, and even harder letting her in emotionally. Not that I was going to let her in, but I was more real with her than I had been with anyone since my return.
“I’m afraid to leave you alone,” she admitted. “I’ll call in sick tomorrow and stay home with you.”
That was crazy. I couldn’t keep Kate from her job. I was about to protest, when she continued. “We’ll cut and color your hair. Make sure you look like someone other than Audrey Marshall. Then, on Tuesday, we’ll enroll you at my school.”
What? I shook my head. I wasn’t going to be here permanently, and I definitely wasn’t ready for school. Especially a new school. Besides, my teachers from home were sending me my assignments until I returned.
“It’s that or you go back.”
Seriously? My house, especially my bedroom, was suffocating. My mother watched me like a hawk and was always talking about getting back to normal. She couldn’t let me be. And my dad—he was never around, probably because he was unable to deal with what had happened to me, knowing it was his own brother and all. And my brothers, I hated seeing the looks of pity on them. No, going home wasn’t an option.
Kate waited for my decision. Reluctantly, I agreed. It’s not like school really mattered anyway; it was just a place for me to go to make her happy. I didn’t need friends. I didn’t need to do the work. I could go, sit in class, listen to my iPod, read, do whatever to pass the time. I could be anonymous. However, the more I thought about it, the
more nervous I became. My hands trembled and my stomach churned. School was one of the last places I wanted to be, yet it was better than the alternative.
Chapter 5
That night, I was on a Ferris wheel. The dark sky glowed with an orange hue from the other rides nearby. As my cage neared the bottom, I saw a familiar figure standing there—Bill. He had a wicked smile on his face as he cocked his head, watching the center of the Ferris wheel. I couldn’t see what he was looking at until the cage went around again.
On my way back up, I noticed someone climbing the spokes of the wheel. It was a man dressed in black, clutching a knife in his mouth and staring directly at me. My cage stopped at the top, and the attendant began unloading passengers below. The man climbed closer and closer. I frantically jiggled the bar, trying to open it, but it only tightened across my lap.
Peering over the edge, a black-gloved hand reached up and grabbed my foot. I screamed.
Audrey, it’s only a dream. It’s okay.
I woke up. Pushing everything out of my mind, I focused on what was real and in front of me.
I heard Kate on the phone. The clock on the nightstand read seven in the morning. She had to be talking to my mom, since it was already ten back home. I got out of bed and carefully opened my door a crack, listening to her. She was probably telling my mom about what I had done the night before. As I listened, it became clear that Kate wasn’t talking about me—she was talking about Mike leaving. I had almost forgotten about that.
Closing the door, I went over to my window and looked outside. Even though the sun was out, a white fog coated the golf course like a blanket. Beyond the course, dry brown hills rose out of the mist, a stark contrast from the dense green forest behind my house back home. I rested my head against the glass. Everything was different here—and that was good. The fewer reminders, the better.
Glancing to my right, I saw directly into the next-door neighbors’ backyard. Something caught my attention, so I looked closer. There was a large patio surrounded by grass, and bushes lined the fence. A eucalyptus tree stood in the back corner. Everything appeared to be still. The screen was back in, so I slid the window open. The cool air caressed my skin, giving me goose bumps.