Total pages in book: 260
Estimated words: 245483 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1227(@200wpm)___ 982(@250wpm)___ 818(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 245483 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1227(@200wpm)___ 982(@250wpm)___ 818(@300wpm)
The sounds of the sirens coming can be heard in the distance, getting closer now.
“Just please come back to me.”
Chapter 30
John
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Each time the machine sounds, my head throbs with a pain that only brings back memories. I feel my forehead pinch and another shooting pulse, but I can’t move my hand up to my head.
I groan, trying to move but I can’t.
The images flash through my head.
My father holding me down. Beep.
His fist. Beep.
The dogs. Beep.
I go backward in time.
My mother dying. Beep.
I want to stay there. They’re so happy. He holds her, and she holds me. Beep.
She’s on the ground. Beep.
She won’t wake up. Beep.
I scream out for her.
My head shakes and I try to move again, feeling closer to consciousness, becoming more aware of my body, but it’s so heavy.
I shake her shoulders, trying to get her to wake up. Mom! I scream out. Mom!
The sound of my father’s boots. The sound of the toolbox that crashes to the ground as he runs into the room.
My throat feels raw as I cry out again. Beep.
He pushes me out of the way.
No! Mom! Beep.
My shoulders shake as I watch him leaning over her.
Small hands shake me, but they aren’t in the room with me.
Father! Help her! Beep.
His cold gaze finds me, his hands still holding Mom, but when he looks back at me, I can’t cry out anymore. I can’t speak.
His eyes are like ice as he sneers at me. What did I do? Why is he blaming me? I didn’t do anything. I swear I didn’t.
“Jay!” I hear a voice scream, and my eyes part slowly. My groggy head sways and I try to blink. The bright lights hurt though. My wrists sting as I pull upward, but they won’t move. It takes a moment as my head lolls to the side to realize I’m in the hospital. Sedated and restrained.
“Jay,” I hear her soft voice and vaguely feel her hands on mine. I turn my hand slightly and she laces her small fingers with mine. My little bird. I’ve held her hand so many times. Her hand belongs in mine. Everything’s okay then. That’s all I need to know that everything’s okay.
Robin, my little bird.
She brought me here.
I expect anger, I expect to hate her. Instead I only feel weak and helpless. The pain in her voice is what does it. I’ve hurt her. I’ll do anything, my little bird. Don’t leave me. Not here, and not ever.
Slowly, the memories come back.
All twenty years and more.
My Robin. My sweet Robin.
I watch her run. I keep watching as the dogs bark behind me. They’re so close, and I’m certain they’re going to get out. It’s only a large stick keeping the cage secured. It’s going to break. I know it will. But when it does, they’ll come for me.
I’ll watch her though. I’ll make sure up until the last moment my life slips from me that she’s free, that she’s running and the dogs stay here. My father will stay here. They can have me, so long as she’s free.
When I turn behind me, finally ripping my eyes away from where she’s gone, it’s only because the sound of boots stomping against the cold hard ground is getting louder. It’s only because I don’t want him to touch me. But the second I turn, the shovel slams against my skull and blackness consumes me. Only the briefest vision of my father follows me to the darkness.
“Jay, please. Stay with me,” I hear her soft voice call out. It’s like an echo in my head.
I’m here. I try to tell her, but my throat isn’t working. My voice isn’t here. I’m here, little bird. We made it. We both made it.
I remember standing outside her house. Across the street and shielded from the row of oak trees, I waited for her to be alone. She came to mine and I followed her home, too afraid of the police. I did that. I burned it down. It was all my fault.
But she has a family who holds her so closely.
And she never looked back.
My hand slips from the tree and the rough bark scrapes my arm. When she ran away… she never looked back. As the anger rises, I hear the footsteps behind me. I turn ready to fight, my movements sharp.
But there’s no one there. Just a voice in my head. I shake my head again. The boy is there. He looks the way I want to look. Who am I?
* * *
“Jay!” Robin’s voice is clear and strong.
“Robin,” I finally answer her and I know she heard it.
Beep. “Turn off,” I try to speak but my throat hurts too much.
“You were intubated, Jay. It’s okay,” I hear her tell me as I fight against the bindings holding me down.