Trusting . . .
The drive to the cemetery started out quiet, until a pressure started building inside of me. It felt as if a vice was being tightened across my chest, pinning me down in a sticky leather seat poking me with fiery sharp needles up and down my spine, arms and legs. My skin flushed hot before sweat began to cool the raging heat thundering through my body. I tried to look out the window, count the people whose lives seemed so much better than mine. I tried to hold the voice in my head at bay hoping Briggs didn’t notice I was starting to have a panic attack.
But the voice in my head knew when to strike. She knew when I was at my weakest. She was the same voice that dictated my moods when I couldn’t handle the stress of trying to be someone everyone else wanted me to be.
Now, here we go again. Rose, when will you ever learn that whores like you ain’t worthy of grieving?
‘Yes I am.’ I answered her in my head.
No, you’re not. Do you honestly believe Sybil’s family is gonna overlook you being there?
‘Maybe, I don’t know. I need to be there.’
No you don’t. Oh, fuck, come on Rose, can’t you see, you’re the hooker-low-life-roommate that left the door unlocked so Dax could come in and kill her. It’s your fault she’s dead.
‘No, it’s not! It’s not my fault and you’re not real!’ The nine-year-old broken little girl deep inside me screamed back.
Oh, but Rose, I am real and I’m really in your head. I’ve been with you forever, I know you best and now I’m here to help you remember your place. You aren’t worthy, never been, never will be.
I pushed my hands up across my face. My skin and hairline damp from the perspiration pushing through my pores.
Briggs noticed.
“Rosie, you oka’?” He brushed his fingers across my hands, still cupping my face. I didn’t look up. This time the fucked up voice in my head was relentless.
Isn’t that cute. You almost could have had him. I bet if you let him kill Dax, Sybil would be here. You shouldn’t have stopped Briggs from killing him. Sybil’s death wouldn’t have been for nothing. Oh, wait, it was for something, it took one more filthy, dirty whore off the street. You’ll always be a dirty broken girl who whores herself to feed the monster inside. No wonder Briggs or Shane don’t want you!
“Shut up, shut up, just shut the fuck up,” I screamed at the top of my lungs into my hands as I swayed back and forth. I was trapped where I was. I couldn’t escape her. When she’d shown up before, I’d have a place to go, a motion I could do that would cause her to lose the grip she had in my head.
Briggs stopped the car; my body jolted forward.
“Wha’ the fuck?”
Briggs’ voice carried and filled the car. He was demanding, almost like he was coming from a place of fear, a place he’d known for way too long.
I hopped out of the car, pacing the dingy sidewalk riddled with yesterday’s trash.
“I’m worthy, do you fucking hear me? I’m fucking worthy. You can’t break me anymore, I’m not that scared little girl anymore. You will not win! Do you hear me? YOU. WON’T. WIN!” I hollered into the gust of wind that kicked up and swirled around me. The chill of the wind coming off the bay spread across my face, loosening the grip the voice had in my head and as if the wind cleansed my soul of the wicked. Suddenly, the voice in my head was silent. And just like that I was left on the sidewalk clinging to the only thing I knew.
When I lowered my eyes back down to Briggs, he was standing there, unmoved by my outburst. The look on his face told me he was familiar with the demon I was battling, as if in some intimate way the pain in my life was connected to his. He nodded, his body firm, tense, like he was ready to protect me. I blinked slowly, and nodded back, in an instant his arms were around me.
“Shhh, you’ safe. I’m here. It’s over.”
“I . . . I . . . I—”
“Come on, Rosie gir’, get in the car.”
Battling the need to be healed, I knew I was safe, packed away in the care of Briggs until he pulled into the Cypress Lawn Cemetery.