Page 77 of Fractured
I get up, go to the bedroom door, and open it. Sasha is standing in her usual spot. I hold up one finger, go to my studio and grab my chair, taking it to the door. I drag it through and set it in the hall beside my door.
She smiles, “Thanks. I’m not leaving you tonight, okay, so try to get some sleep. They are gone till the weekend, so you’re safe, okay?”
I smile and grab her hand and close the door and go to the couch. My blanket has coffee stains on it, but I don’t care. I crawl in and lay down.
Sleep Izzy, sleep and try to forget.
~ ~ ~
I fight, I fight as hard as I can, but I can’t get air. Clawing at my neck, but no matter what I do, I can’t draw air into my lungs or break away from the hand squeezing my life from me. I try to scream, and the pain in my throat jolts me awake.
I sit straight up, holding my neck, tears running down my cheeks. My body is covered in sweat and a chill runs down my back from the frigid air, hitting my sweat cover t-shirt. I look around the room in a panic.
“He’s not here.” Danny’s voice from the door makes me jump. I gather the blanket to my chest.
Danny steps in and comes to the coffee table. He sets my breakfast on the table and looks me over. Then he looks at my neck, his eyes narrow and his lips turn into a white line.
“I’m on day shift. I’ll be standing right outside the door. Eat.”He turns to leave, pointing to the tray. I leap up and grab his hand, but he shakes it off as if I’m some stranger he doesn’t know and doesn’t want to touch. It stings. Anna absolutely loves him, and he now despises me.
I hold my finger up and run to the desk, digging for a pen and scrap of paper. I write quickly.
May I read by the pool today?
He reads it, looks at me in disgust. “I’ll ask.”
Fuck!
I plop on the couch and lift the lid off my breakfast. Rose made cream of wheat, a bit of cream and brown sugar off to the side, and a huge coffee. I smile. Sasha must have told her my throat was sore, soft foods easy to swallow. I eat right where I am. I need food today of all days.
I finished my breakfast, did my morning routine, only this time I drag my suitcase to the bathroom. I don’t have a big bag like Anna, but I have an idea that might get me the few things I will need.
I flip the lid over and dig out every pair of panties I own and put them on, layer after layer. I can only fit three bras on. Dang it! Next, I layer up my t-shirts and top it off with my giant Harry Potter one. I put on three pairs of leggings and my matching Harry Potter jogging pants.
I stand back and look in the mirror. I look puffy, but not huge and noticeable, just like I’m wearing baggy clothes. Plus, it’s cool today, so my outfit won’t look out of place. I zip the lid closed and drag it back to the closet, throwing all three suitcases in and close the door. I look around the room, not needing to take anything else with me.
I just need clothes and that damn truck.
I pace, my nerves are shot, and my throat is killing me. Every time I attempt to talk, the pain makes me wince before I canutter a word. Sweat is pouring down my back because of all my layers, so I go to the window and open it and sit down. and I keep trying to process what happened and why? I don’t understand any of it and it breaks my heart.
He said I almost made him fall, that I made him want a life he never knew he wanted. And it kills me because I felt the same once. For a moment when he held me, kissed me. It was something I wanted too. I put my head on my knees and wipe my nose with my sleeve. I could have loved him and given him all of me. A few days ago, I wanted that ring he wears to be real.
I hold my hand out and look at the one on my finger. It glistens in the sun, a prism of color glittering off the windowsill. I pull the ring off and look at it. It never meant anything to him, or me. I squeeze it in my hand; the claws digging into my palm.
I get up and go to the desk. I take out a sheet of paper and put words to paper he will never allow me to say. If today is my last day on earth, and even if I make it out of here. These will be my last words to him, and he needs to know, to understand.
The door opens and Danny comes in, puts my lunch tray on the table and I look up at him and cover my letter. He stops by the door, his back to me.
“Be ready soon. You get a few hours by the pool. We have a delivery today, and the boss said you can help set it up since Anna is busy.
I just nod and he leaves. Oh, thank God, oh thank the gods above. I lay my head on the desk and cover my face in my hands. I’m so close I can taste it. My stomach rolls from nerves and I sit up and rub my face with my hands. I can’t be a sissy now.
Focus Izzy.
I fold my letter, take off my ring and stuff it in an envelope; I go to the studio and put it on the easel in front of my painting. The work isn’t completed, but then neither is my story. I leftenough of it on canvas; maybe once he opens his eyes, he’ll see what I was trying to say all along.
I go to the bathroom and pee. Who knows how long I’ll be in that box for? I grab my book and stand in front of the door. I try to take a deep breath, but my throat stops me. My heart is beating so fast I feel dizzy.
I shake my shoulders back and open the door; I head out past Danny, who follows me. I make it down the stairs on shaking legs, and go out the back patio doors to my chair; trying to do everything like I always do.
