Page 54 of Range
I occupied my free time constructing and perfecting the laboratory I was building in my bedroom. Chemistry was quickly becoming my obsession. It helped me mask the guilt. It helped me tune out the voices.
The rage.
The envy.
The hate.
The frustration.
My first formula was birthed shortly after my twelfth birthday. I didn’t want a party or friends over. Instead, I requested more supplies and permission to operate my laboratory at full capacity with extended hours. There was no longer room for me to rest my head. Janeese welcomed me into her bedroom without hesitation.
I chose the floor, using a cot cushioned with blankets to get to sleep every night. Somehow, I never woke up alone. Janeese was always near.
On the floor.
Back pressed against mine on the small cot.
Or face at the foot of her bed as her hand dangled from the mattress, gripping the plastic cot.
Silently, she was yearning for comfort. For safety. For support. While my parents set her up with the best therapists inthe city, she hadn’t progressed. It wasn’t until her room became ours that her mental and emotional help began to improve.
But, her healing was conditional. The unlawful existence of the threat to her sanity was keeping her from becoming who she was destined to be. It wasn’t acceptable. I wouldn’t accept it.
Twelve days.
Eight hours.
Forty-two minutes.
That’s how long it took to receive the call that the threat to her sanity had been neutralized.
Suddenly.
Surprisingly.
Confusingly.
For me, there was hardly anything baffling about the death of Jason. In fact, his death confirmed the success of my inaugural formula. A deadly poison I injected in the corner of his door each evening before my father clocked out and headed home for the dinner my mother prepared.
Twelve days.
Eight hours.
Forty-two minutes.
My only regret was the length of time it had taken his body to completely give in. His systems shut down slowly. His throat swelled. His lungs collapsed. He suffered.
Twelve days.
Eight hours.
Forty-two minutes.
“Yes?”
Tears flowed from her pretty eyes. I could feel them dropping on the other line.
“I’ve never aspired to be a hero,” I admitted, “But, when it comes to you and Aubrey, you can always count on me to save you. Even if that means burying myself. Understand?”
