The Resurrection of Aubrey Mill

Chapter Twenty-Two

“Well, that was interesting,” Linda remarks, shifting into drive as I snap my seatbelt into place.
“Quinn?” After I’m buckled in, I glance over to her and watch as she nods her head.
Facing forward, my hands find their way to my lap as I inhale deeply. “Yeah, she’s had a rough couple of months.”
“Is she okay?”
Exhaling, I ponder Linda’s question before answering.
“I hope so. I really hope so.”
Silence fills the car until Linda finally breaks it with a deep breath through her nose.
“So…wanna go get a hot fudge sundae?”
Her head turns in my direction and a breath catches in my throat. Anxiety begins to creep into my chest, and my fingers absently glide along its center to ease the sudden pressure, but there’s no relief from the movement. My trembling hands find the seat underneath my legs as a very familiar fear, one which I haven’t felt in a very long time, begins to filter through my body.
“Um, no, I don’t want to go anywhere near a hot fudge sundae, actually.” I turn away from her, trying desperately to maintain my composure and focus on the hustle and bustle of the city through the window. Anything to stop the terror dictating my rapid heartbeat.
Hot fudge sundaes are always Linda’s go-to strategy when she’s about to break some really bad news. It started long ago with poor Walter, and consisted of a lengthy, in-depth introduction to chocolate toxicity as she tried to assure me his death wasn’t my fault. The meetings have, unfortunately, continued on throughout the years.
Therefore, the mention of hot fudge sundaes means that something is terribly wrong. And whatever it is, it’s vibrating the air all around us. I can feel it clear down to the marrow in my bones as the heaviness of unbridled anger and well-known terror begins to coat my lungs.
I can’t breathe.
God, I can’t breathe.
“Aubrey—”
“NO!” I scream, the pressure inside my chest tightening as I twist back to her. “Just tell me, Linda! I don’t need a f*cking sundae to make it all better!”
She grips the wheel tightly and jerks the car to the left, crossing two traffic lanes until we finally coast to a stop alongside the road. Throwing the car in park, she turns and faces me, her own anger evident as her eyes narrow in my direction and her lips tighten into a thin line. I hold her stare, panting from my outburst, fury framing my features as we glare at each other.
Shaking my head, I mutter, “Just tell me.”
Her face soon falls from that of irritation into one of defeat as she reaches over and pries my hand out from under my leg. Stroking it softly, she says, “I didn’t want to do this here, but I don’t know when I will see you next and it needs to be discussed. It’s something that affects both of us greatly.” Her hand squeezes mine and she exhales deeply. “And I sure as hell didn’t want to do it in the car, on the side of the road.”
I say nothing in return, but my mind is screaming in such anguish I’m forced to close my eyes.
Tightening her grip, she takes in another breath and clears her throat. “I have been diagnosed with stage II lung cancer.”
I open my eyes and jerk my hand out from underneath hers. “No.”
“Yes, Aubrey.” Linda draws her hand back into her lap and continues to nervously watch my reaction from across the vehicle. “I knew back in late January actually, but I didn’t want to say anything until I found out the prognosis and treatment options. February came and went, and now it’s the beginning of March and it’s time.” She swallows deeply. “I’ll be starting radiation next week, and surgery soon after that.”
“So…Christmas…not bronchitis?” I ask with no emotion in my tone as all the pieces fall together.
Linda shrugs her shoulders. “Not bronchitis.”
“You haven’t smoked a cigarette in your life.”
“I know. Sometimes it just happens.”
You mean, I just happen.
The thought lances my brain, the pain of its implications throbbing inside my head. My throat swells even more, and the pressure beneath my ribcage almost implodes as my walls begin to reform. I can feel them mechanically hardening around my heart, furiously trying to suffocate any hope that I ever had for having a normal life.
“Are you going to be okay?” I barely manage to squeeze through my gritted teeth.
Linda’s face falls. “I sure hope so, honey.”
Moisture lines her eyes, but she nods slightly. Reaching over, she takes my hand from my lap and squeezes it gently. “I will fight this,” she says, her tone full of determination. The tears are finally expelled from her eyes and slide down her pained expression as my chest squeezes like a vise, further constricting my breaths.
I give her a slight nod and place my other hand on top of hers. “I know you will.”
But because of me, you will lose.
Guilt floods me.
I can’t breathe.
Forcing my gaze at the windshield, I make no further attempt to speak. My heart rate slows and my skin grows cold, the heat from my anger lessening as I force myself to go completely numb.
It hurts too much.
I cast my glance to the window and swallow deeply as I shift in my seat, once again facing forward. “Linda, would you mind taking me home? I’m not feeling so well.”
She sniffles beside me, but nods her head and shifts into drive. Her hand remains clutched around mine the entire way home. Ten minutes later, we pull up to my apartment complex and I say nothing as I open the door, placing my foot on the pavement. Linda opens her own door to join me, but I raise my hand, stopping her as soon as she stands.
My voice is soft with my plea. “Please, Linda. I just need some time. To process…all of this.”
Her lips curl into themselves and with a saddened expression, she dips her head in acceptance before reluctantly sliding back into the car. I turn away from her and slowly begin my ascent up the stairs, sighing with relief as the sound of the gravel crunches underneath her tires. Her headlights no longer illuminate the stairwell as I trudge upward and make my way to the front door, completely encompassed in darkness as it tries to consume me.
Glancing at my window, one final spark of hope ignites in my heart.
Kaeleb.
Knowing he’s just inside my room, my need to feel him hurriedly drives my keys into the lock as I frantically turn the knob in an effort to race to the comfort of his arms. I’m teetering on the edge, barely able to breathe as I try to keep my head above the black abyss tugging at my feet. I can only pray his strength is enough to keep me safe as I throw open the door.
Slinging my jacket over the back of the couch, I start to run to my room when Walter barks at me from the floor. His high-pitched whines and needy whimpers pull me from my hurried frenzy. I can hardly make him out in the pitch black room as I crouch down and as he finds his way securely into my arms, the warmth from his drenched paws seeps through my leggings. Nuzzling him, I hold his body tightly while he licks my face, temporarily soothing my sorrow with his kisses. I breathe him in as he continues to stand on my lap and notice a familiar metallic scent coming from his coat.
My head jerks back to look at him, but even now that my eyes have adjusted I still can’t see much, so I lead him into the kitchen and flip on the light. Bending down once again and taking his paw into my hand, a surprised gasp escapes me when my eyes land on the blood coating his once golden fur. I immediately flip his foot over for examination, pressing the pads to see if there’s an open wound somewhere. He doesn’t whine, just continues licking my face as I glance over his other three paws. All coated in blood.
I set him on the floor and turn toward the cabinet to grab the first aid kit. After it’s retrieved, I twist back around, and for the first time tonight, as the light from the kitchen dimly displays the carpet in the living room, do I start to realize that the blood may not be Walter’s. My trembling hand places the kit on the counter as my eyes take in the bloodstained prints all over the beige berber, and with each new discovery, my heart rate picks up. I step out of the kitchen and crane my neck to the left, noting that the darkest and most pronounced of them are located on the other side of the room.
My heart lurches as I follow their trail and end up in front of Quinn’s bathroom.
No.
Swallowing deeply, fresh tears sting my eyes as I lean forward and press the door lightly with the tips of my fingers. It creaks slowly as it drifts, but Walter brushes by me, pushing it fully open as my hesitant steps follow him. The coppery smell of blood saturates the air, the familiarity of it causing my hand to quake as I reach toward the wall to flip on the light.
No. No. No. NO! NOO! NOOO! NOOOO!
“QUINN!!!!!!!!” I scream as I land on my knees, crawling to where she lies limply in the corner, with two pools of blood on either side of her body. Glancing down at her wrists, I can barely see through my tears as I take in the huge gashes running up them, blood still pumping through the gaping slashes. “QUINN!!!!!” I scream again, grabbing the pair of scissors from the floor, yanking the towel off the bar above her head before cutting and ripping it in two. Walter is whining and pawing at her chest so I push him to the side and force him to lie down so that I can straddle her body.
Setting her hand between my legs, my entire body trembles to the core as I clumsily fumble around, trying to tie one of the pieces of towel around her wrist. Sobs rack through my chest and moisture coats my face as I finally manage to tighten a knot, pulling the ends of the towel as hard as I can. Blood seeps through the fibers, its crimson color leaching through it like a rolling wave. I lift my hand and unsteadily swipe my chin with the heel of my hand before working on her other wrist. Walter whines again, his frustration from having to sit still echoing throughout the bathroom, and the sound prompts Quinn to lift her head.
Her voice is weak as she slurs, “I’m so tired, Aubrey.”
“Shhhh. Save your strength,” I warn as I glance at her through my tears. Another cry escapes me when I see the empty look on her extremely pale face. “I’m hurrying, Quinn. Hang on for me.”
She sighs almost drunkenly, her energy depleting with each pump of her heart. “She came back. That girl from the pictures. Always chanting. Whispering. Telling me things.” Her eyes break from the floor to meet mine. “Just let her take me. I’m too tired to her fight anymore…”
Upon the last word, she slumps over and an agonizing scream escapes me, the fire from its launch scraping through my throat as it releases.
Somehow through my wails, I hear a loud crash coming from my room.
Kaeleb.
“KAELEB!” My voice breaks mid-scream and I put both hands on the floor to press myself off of it, knowing that if I can just reach him, everything will be okay. Warmth coats my fingers as I push up and my hands slide forward in the red pools that surround them.
Grunting, I struggle to get my footing underneath me, finally finding some traction and pushing myself into a standing position. My hands rise in front of my eyes and I watch the dark red as it trickles slowly down my forearms, forming fat droplets as they fall and strike the floor.
My vision clouds with the sight of the blood, and as it continues to trail down my skin, the earth suddenly splits wide open from underneath me as my Level 5 memory bin explodes from its burial ground, pieces of shrapnel landing everywhere as the titanium door is blown off its hinges.
Pain and agony from the sole memory held within its casing erupts all around me like a geyser shooting from below the ground, blowing my mind into a realm that I never thought I would be forced to visit again.
My legs lose their strength and I hit the floor, barely finding Kaeleb’s frantic face before my eyes are forced shut, sealing me inside with no escape from my own tortured mind.