Page 7 of Fear Me Not

5

ASPEN

I’m drifting, caught in a current that’s carrying me along. Strangely, I’m not frightened, though some subconscious part of me knows I should be.

Voices linger around me, deep and masculine. I recognize them, but I can’t recall their names or bring their faces to mind. Am I at home, in my bed, with my dad down the hall?

My dad is sick! The thought jumpstarts my heart, because that’s not right either. No, not sick. He’s dead. My dad is dead.

Grief strikes me afresh, a sadness that feels too big to handle. Like it’s a balloon of tar that will continue to swell inside me until it bursts and drowns me in its sticky darkness.

Am I dead, too?

A part of me feels like it would be a relief. I could finally rest. Will my family be waiting for me? My mom and my dad, and maybe even my sister, Emilia. I’d like to believe my sister is still alive somewhere, living her life, but if she is, and she hasn’t contacted me to let me know she’s safe, I’d also hate her for it. She’s the reason Mom took her own life. I can’t see my sister still being alive and not contacting us, if she was able to.

So maybe I won’t see my sister in my next life, and I’ll probably be super mad at my mom for the choice she made, but I’ll definitely be happy to see my dad. I’ve got so many things I want to say to him, but mostly that I’m sorry.

I miss my dad. My brain is torturing me with the months leading up to his death, and all the things I wish I’d done differently. Maybe from an outsider’s point of view, they’d see me as the girl who gave up having her own life to selflessly care for her dying father, but I knew that wasn’t the full truth. It hadn’t been easy. I’d been full of anger and resentment—not toward my dad, but toward the world for taking everyone I loved away from me. There were times when I’d lost my temper with him and shouted and threw things and slammed doors. He’d done the same—also filled with anger at what was happening to him—but then he had a far better excuse than me. I should have taken time to put myself in his place, to imagine how he’d been feeling.

I’m sure he forgave me for my anger, but I still wish I’d bitten my tongue. I wish I’d been kinder and gentler and more understanding of what he’d been going through, rather than being fucking selfish, worrying about my own social life, or lack of it, and how trapped I’d felt. I hope he understood that I didn’t mean it, the time I’d called him an asshole and stormed out and slammed the door behind me.

I hope he understood that I’d loved him.

The male voices somewhere above me grow louder, and I try to distinguish the words. Are they fighting? I reach for them, wanting to know what they’re arguing about.

Is it me?

The sense of drifting, unbidden, has changed. I’m heading in a different direction now—up, instead of along. I’m still unsure what’s happened to me, but I feel like these voices will have the answer.

My eyelids flutter, and it all comes crashing down on me.

I’m back in Windridge Hall.

I can’t stop shivering and my teeth keep clacking together.

“Aspen?” Blake’s voice. “She’s awake.” He must be telling his sons.

“She’s starting to shiver again.” It’s Levi now. “That’s a good sign, right? It means her body is doing what it’s supposed to again.”

Blake again. “Yeah, I hope so. That she’s waking up is definitely a good sign.”

“She should have something warm to drink,” Levi says.

“Good idea. Go and make her some warm milk. She likes that.”

I drift again for an unknown amount of time when Blake’s voice penetrates my doze.

“Can you wake up, Pen?”

I let out a sound that is something along the lines of a confirmation. My teeth chatter and my body vibrates. Pins and needles spike through my fingers and toes, worse than I’ve ever felt before. It’s not just a tingling but an actual pain, like the pins are real and stabbing me. Death by a thousand cuts.

A groan rumbles from between my lips, and I wish I could go back to the dreamy state I’d been in before where I couldn’t feel the pain. It’s not only a physical agony I’m suffering, but also one of the heart. I’d run to try to escape them, but here I am, right back in their laps.

A sob barrels up inside me, and I choke it back. I never made it out. I left it too late, and now the pass is closed, and I’m trapped here with these three men and the ghosts who walk the halls.

I’d been warned so many times, but I hadn’t listened. I’d told myself I could handle these men, and that they wouldn’t hurt me, but I’d been so wrong.

It’s Blake who’s hurt me the worst, because he’s the one I’d trusted the most.