Page 112 of Collateral Damage

She tried to talk to me but I couldn’t find the words. I don’t know what people know as of yet but these eyes on me is making my skin crawl. Desperate to get into the house and lock myself away.

We arrive at the house and I trundle inside feeling like a stranger. So out of place as they escort me to my room and I forget how made of money her family is.

“Here we are darling. The bed is freshly made and there are towels in the ensuite waiting for you. Please, if you need anything else, anything at all, don’t be afraid to ask, ok?” Her mum says softly as she cradles my hands like my own mother and my swollen eyes pulse with the urge to push out tears I must have run out of by now.“Everyone is so happy to see you safe and sound.”

I want to believe that but in the grand scheme of things, no one really even knew me. Not the real me anyway, and I’m sure they all jumped on the sympathy bandwagon once they caught wind of my disappearance. If there is one thing I’ve learnt. It's to see through the bullshit.

She rubs my cheek before leaving me standing in the doorway with nothing but the same clothes I’ve been wearing since her death, wrapped in her hoodie that I inhale, stinging at my eyes and a small bag of belongings they took from her house, my phone. my teddy and a few other bits.

I refused to change, even when they lent me new clothes at the station and I stare into the standing mirror propped up in the corner of the room, glaring at my own ghost as her hoodie is stained with saturated blood.Her blood.I can still smell the sea in my hair as I glare at the greasy mop on my head, tied in a loose bun wearing the heaviest bags, sighing as I glare at the bathroom door knowing I need to shower. But I don’t want to. I don’t want to erase her touch. Her smell, her last moments in my arms. The last remnants of her on my skin will be gone, something I’ll never be able to get back and my knees buckle to the floor, cracking them with hard impact as I sob silently, clutching at the hoodie tightly in my fingers as I cradle my own body, praying for my death to come quickly. But I can’t. Not yet. Not until I say my peace. I may be angry at her for leaving me on my own, but her story isn’t over.She is not a monster.And I refuse to let the press paint her as one, so I will speak out in front of everyone if I have to.I will be her voice.

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It's taken me three hours to finally run the shower. I stare at the bathroom door trying to move from the bed and the one thing I want right now is Shep. My pillow is drenched in my tears as I finally get up and make it inside, leaving her clothes on the floor beneath me and I weep as I walk underneath the flow of water, hoping I turn around and see her looking at me. Wanting her to hug me in a tight embrace and tell me everything's going to be ok but instead the bathroom is empty and I can no longer feel her by my side. I can’t feel anything but the sweet calling of death whispering down my ear.

I’m completely alone and this pathetic muscle in my chest tenses, almost crippling me as I cup my knees, gliding down the wall onto the floor of the shower. I ignore how the tiles are burning my back, rocking to the shallow beating of my own heart as the water washes awaymy soul, watching it fall down the drain wishing it would take me with it as I glare at it for at least ten minutes, completely lost in my own head.

I thought I knew grief. I thought I knew pain.But this?This suffering is torture I wouldn’t wish on anyone. Losing a part of yourself, a connection so deep that you feel completely empty inside. I feel so empty it physically hurts to breathe in oxygen. I rub my discoloured flesh, wiping the bags under my eyes from lack of sleep and my absence of rest and food is kicking my side effects up a notch. I feel so drowsy I might pass out so I crawl out the shower, wrapping myself in a towel and make my way to the bed, dragging her hoodie along with me as I huddle it into a ball underneath my head, using it as a pillow, trying to picture the rest of my life now. And all I see is darkness. Nothingness.

A dead end.

This is going to be a long night…

C H A P T E R 63

JUSTICE

Puppet

Play - ‘TV - Billie Eilish’

“Hey, Rara. Are you ready?” Kacey’s voice seeps through the wood of the bedroom door and she sounds genuinely caring for once in her life. I’ve barely spoken a word to her since I got here. I scrolled through everything I missed while I was gone and it was as to be expected. Her sympathy card for me missing made me feel a little sick but I have no place to fight with her right now. I just want to get this damn court hearing over with.

I tug down my pencil skirt, feeling completely out of place and irritated already as I brush my hair out my face feeling way too claustrophobic in my clothes, applying a small amount of makeup to try and brighten up my dull face but I don’t see much difference, clipping up my hair that is now almost down to my ass. I didn’t realise how much it had grown until I was looking at pictures from last year.When I thought I was happy.

“Yeah.” I’ve eaten the minimal and probably slept a total of six hours in the last five days. But I’m thankful for being taken in by her family. They have tried to make me feel as at home as they can and offered to let me stay until I figure out what the hell I’m going to do with my life. If it was up to me, I wouldn’t spend much longer here, but I made a promise… I promisedher I’d at least live to see my 21st birthday. Not that it means anything now as she couldn’t keep hers, but I'll give it a go… Now understanding why she was so pushy with it, I let my anger out on the inside of my mouth, biting it until it bleeds. I don’t think I’ll ever forgive her for keeping that from me. She should have told me, we could have worked something out. Instead, she made love to me knowing it may be her last, giving me false hope that we were forever,selfish bitch.

I’ve spent the last week dwelling on every word she said to me but even in death it's impossible to truly hate her. Not when I crave her so deeply it physically hurts me and her last words continue to have me crying myself to sleep. She told me she would never say those words. Even when I said them to her, I was never expecting her to say them back. I told her I’d wait for it. But a part of me wishes she hadn’t said it at all. It only confirmed everything I knew in those final moments. She was finally ready to feel. To be good. To start over. To do better.For me.

“We are ready when you are Rara, we will be waiting in the car.”

I’ve not really come out of this room besides speaking to a local lawyer that has been visiting every day since my interrogation and I’ve probably worried them but I wanted to grieve in my own way. It has not been easy to talk about and she has not exactly been the best at making me feel better about my situation. She's advised me to plead guilty but I think that is absolutely ridiculous. The idea of death has been heavily high but I’ve refrained, staring at the razors in the bathroom just begging for me to use them, and I have, much to my detest… I never thought I’d find comfort in bleeding but it’s the only way I seem to be able to control my pain and it takes my mind off everything for a while. I imagine drifting into a deep sleep where I can finally rest and not have to worry about tomorrow or thishearing or the press and the cameras in my face, my name all over the news. I could run away from this ache, be by her side, be with my parents but I’m stronger than that. She told me how strong I was not even two days into my captivity. I’ve dealt with death. I’ve dealt with literal kidnapping, even my own death in a way. Something I wouldn’t wish on anyone,so why is this so fucking hard.

I slip on some comfy shoes and make my way to the car, trying not to rub my makeup off as tears well against my eyeline, Kacey holding a coffee for me to take as I climb into the back.

“White chocolate mocha, extra hot with an extra pump and extra whipped cream!” The smell hits me like poison, immediately feeling nauseous and I'm suddenly back in her kitchen watching her drink it from her hideously ugly coffee cup and I freeze, glaring at it like it's dead.

“Get it away from me.Please.” She looks confused, knowing I loved coffee and I’m kind of surprised she remembered my order. She used to get me one before college everyday but now, the thought of it makes me want to bawl my eyes out. She jumps out the car, leaving it on the side of the pathway and jumps back in, staring at me like she wants to ask me a million questions but she holds them back, and I’m glad, because I’m nowhere close to talking about any of this yet. I don’t think I'll ever be. It’s still too fresh and everything is sore.

“Have you taken your insulin sweetheart?”her mom asks delicately, turning in the passenger seat. I nod in agreement but how am I meant to carry on living a normal life when everything reminds me ofher.The leather seats sting at my nose and my senses are overwhelmed with the remnants of her in everything I see, touch and smell. Grinding my teeth together I try to concentrate on anything but being cooped up in this car for the next three hours.

“I have my headphones, would you like them?” Kacey asks gently, passing me them and I take them without hesitation. At least I can drown out my mind with music, hooking them over my ears as she glares at me, bewildered. I don’t know what she was expecting when we were reunited but I'm not the sweet, bubbly little girl she once knew…Well, at least not now and I think it's frightened her. Although I'm surprised she doesn’t prefer me like this. She is naive to think I’d be the same. Now I look at her and all I see is an insecure girl who uses me to make herself feel like she's a better person to fill her barbie doll ego. My mom and dad were so right but I can’t believe it took me all I went through to finally see it.

“Would you like us to come in with you?” her mom asks timidly. I want to say no, but I think I need all the support I can get right now and as much as I feel completely uncomfortable, they are the closest I have to family left, so I nod gently.

“Also, good news! We found Shep and we will be picking him up from the kennel this evening!” she says joyfully and my heart beats heavily. They have no idea how much it means to me that they are not only taking me in but Shep too and I smile full of gleaming gratitude before focusing my attention out the window, playingBeyonce - Haloin my headphones, turning up the volume to drown everything out but this was a bad idea, as tears already fill my waterline, trying to suppress all my happy memories, the way she held me in her embrace, kept me warm on a cold night, washed my back in the shower, brushed my hair before bed, her gentle touch against my skin when she helped me sleep. Her essence, her everything. And now all I have left is the ghost of her.

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