“I told you, Eleanor. You should have let him go.” She stumbles a little as she turns and walks down the path. I watch her as she opens the door to her house, and disappears from sight.
Josh looks at me for a long time. His face filled with so much sadness, I’m not sure I’ll ever recover from that look or the words his mother tossed at me. He follows his mother without looking back.
Glancing around, I realize most lights in the neighborhood are on, everyone surely awoken by the disturbance from our house.
I shuffle up the stairs, ignoring the sympathetic look on my mother’s face, the twin expressions of pure horror on my sisters’ faces.
I leave it all behind and enter my room. I don’t cry. I don’t cry until my head hits the pillow, and then it’s just me and my sorrow.
Hours later, sleep still eludes me. My chest feels as if someone dug a hole, yanked my heart from my chest, and left it dangling. It’s beating, yes. But the pain that tears through me rips every bit of strength away from me, leaving me numb. I just want to sleep and forget today ever happened. I want to stop feeling. . .dead.
I sit up from the bed and stare at the moonless sky out the window. Thunder rolls in the distance, but the crippling fear that always follows that sound doesn’t set in. I stand up and shuffle robotically around the room and then sit back down.
I can’t do this. I need some sort of relief. My hand moves under my pillow, grabs the penknife and flips it open. I pull my dress up and hover the sharp point of the knife on my thigh. I close my eyes and I see Cole’s beautiful eyes bright with anger, his mother’s look of contempt and blame toward me, my dad’s triumphant expression. I press the tip into my skin and move my hand down. My heart beats faster, blood pumps loudly in my ears as the pain cuts through the numbness. I suck in a breath and open my eyes to look at my leg. Blood trickles down my thigh, soaking into my gown. I lift my hand off my thigh and fold the blade back. I tuck it under my pillow, pull my dress down and then lay back on the bed.
Finally, my body relaxes and sleep claims me, the sweet pain from the cut a lullaby to my shredded soul.
ACCORDING TO MY PARENTS, MR. Richard Barnett, is one of the best defense attorneys in Florida. I know the fees are high and that thought makes me feel even more miserable. They are very close to finishing paying the mortgage for our house, but this extra expense will prolong the process.
I’ve been in and out of this office for a week now. Stephen and my attorneys met and agreed to settle this case outside of court after advising us that if we went to court, it might take a long time until the date of trial. Plus it would end up costing us less if this was settled between the lawyers, avoiding court fees. I agreed wholeheartedly. I had already spent a week in jail and it was fucking hard. I couldn’t imagine waiting for months to get my case in court, while spending more time inside that hellhole. This is the second time my attorney is meeting with Stephen’s.
Stephen is sitting across the table from me, wearing a smirk and a victorious look on his face. My jaw tightens and I continue staring at him like I’ve been doing since we entered the room thirty minutes ago. I want to tell him how much I hate him, but I let my glare say it for me.
I pull my gaze away from the asshole and focus on the interpreter my parents hired for this case, just in time to see him sign, “Your client was not on duty and according to the witness, he attacked the defendant first.”
Loosening the tie around my neck, I close my eyes and wish this process would go faster. I don’t regret what I did. I only wish I would have done more damage than breaking his arm and nose. Testimonies from various witnesses on both sides have already been presented. I’m not even sure how Stephen knew about those two dickheads from the swimming pool incident, but he did and they testified, but according to my lawyer, having the lifeguard and Nor’s testimony helped a lot.
A touch on my shoulder prompts me to open my eyes and glance at Mr. Barnett. “Are you okay, Mr. Holloway? We could take a break if you want.”
I shake my head. I don’t need a fucking break, because it will only prolong this entire process. He nods once and settles back to continue the argument. I keep zoning out, letting my mind wander. At the end of the day, I’m certain of where I’m going. Stephen won’t let me walk away, given the malicious glint in his eyes.
“Three years and five thousand dollars in fines for assault and battery on a law enforcement officer. Don’t forget he caused damage.”
“One year. Your client started the fight.” Mr. Barnett replies. “He wasn’t on duty.”
“Two years and the fines. That’s our last offer.” Opposing counsel contends.
Looks are exchanged.
“Can I talk to my client?” Mr. Barnett asks.