Page 24 of The Silencer

I start walking home, my feet moving automatically while my thoughts swirl.By the time I reach Tammy's house—our house—I've made up my mind.I need to forget, just for one night.I need to drown out these thoughts, this pain that's threatening to overwhelm me again.

Tammy's in the kitchen when I enter, stirring something on the stove that smells delicious.She turns and smiles at me, but her expression quickly shifts to concern.

"Clodagh?What's wrong, sweetheart?"

I force a smile."Nothing.Just tired.I'm going out with Lisa tonight, okay?"

Tammy's brow furrows slightly.She knows about the parties, about the drinking.She doesn't approve, but she understands it's my way of coping.Still, she worries.

"Alright," she says slowly."Just...be careful, okay?And call me if you need anything.Anything at all."

I nod, guilt gnawing at me.Tammy's been nothing but good to me, and here I am, planning to get drunk to forget my problems.But I push the feeling aside.I need this tonight.

"I will," I promise, then I head upstairs to get ready.

* * *

Hours later, I'm at Johnny's house, where the music is pounding so loud I can feel it in my chest.The alcohol burns as it goes down, but I welcome the sensation.With each drink, Emmanuel's face becomes a little blurrier, his words a little more distant.

Lisa's dancing nearby, already tipsy and laughing.She catches my eye and grins, gesturing for me to join her.I down the rest of my drink and move to the makeshift dance floor, letting the music and the alcohol wash over me.

For a while, it works.I lose myself in the rhythm, in the buzz of alcohol, in the press of bodies around me.But as the night wears on, the numbness starts to fade.Emmanuel's words start creeping back in, along with memories I've tried so hard to suppress.

“I need another drink,” I tell Lisa and stumble toward the kitchen.

“Her family was killed,” I hear a girl saying to her friends.“They died because of her, because the man who killed them wanted her.I wonder what she did?”

“She probably slept with him,” one of the friends replies with a smirk.

“Oh, she screams whore.Have you seen the dress she’s wearing?”

I glance down at the black dress I’m wearing.It’s modest compared to what those bitches have on.I grit my teeth as they continue speaking.

“Imagine being a whore and having your entire family dying because you couldn’t keep your legs closed!”

The words hit me like a physical blow, shattering what little composure I had left.Rage and pain surge through me, overwhelming the alcohol-induced haze.Before I can stop myself, I'm storming over to the group of girls.

"What the hell did you just say?"I snarl; my hands balled into fists at my sides.

The girls look startled, then nervous as they realize I've overheard them.The one who called me a whore tries to backpedal.

"We didn't mean?—"

"Shut up!"I scream, drawing the attention of everyone nearby."You don't know anything about me or what happened to my family.How dare you!"

Tears are streaming down my face now, but I'm too angry to care."I was eleven years old," I choke out."Eleven!He kidnapped me, he beat me, and he killed my family.And you think it was my fault?"

The girls are pale now, looking horrified.But I can't stop.Years of pent-up anger and pain are pouring out of me.

"I didn't do anything wrong!I was a child!And now I have to live with this every day of my life while you stand here and gossip about things you don't understand!"

I'm sobbing now, my whole body shaking.I feel a hand on my arm and turn to see Lisa, her face filled with concern.

"Clodagh, let's go," she says softly."You don't need this."

But I shake her off.The alcohol, the encounter with Emmanuel, and now this—it's all too much.I feel like I'm drowning.

"No," I say, my voice breaking."I can't do this anymore.I can't pretend to be okay when I'm not.I can't..."

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