Page 40 of The Silencer

The clear plastic cup in my hand is half empty, the alcohol burning a path down my throat.I know I shouldn't be here, shouldn't be drinking.I've been doing so well lately, focusing on my art therapy and talking things through with Dr.Murphy.But that family project at school...it broke something inside me.

I close my eyes, remembering the look on my classmates' faces when I stood up to present my project.The pity, the curiosity, the discomfort.I hate being the girl with the tragic back story, the one everyone whispers about.Thankfully, I didn’t need to explain how they died, and the school I’m at now is completely different than the one I attended with those bitches who said I was a whore.

Tammy’s been worried about me, and I get it.Things have been tough, but I’ve been through worse.Hell, I’ve lived through worse.It’s just going to take some time to get out of this funk I’m in.

This party is lame as hell.By the looks of things, it’s a college party and there’s no one here that I know.It was mentioned at school that it would be on tonight and it had an open door policy.Everyone and anyone was invited.But no one I know is here yet.

I push away from the wall and move toward the kitchen, finishing my drink on the way.

"How about a refill?"I hear someone say to my left.

I turn to see a tall guy with dark hair and a charming smile.He looks older, probably in college.Under normal circumstances, I'd be flattered by the attention, but tonight I just feel numb.

"Sure," I say, handing him my empty cup."Thanks."

He takes it and starts mixing a drink."I'm John," he says."I haven't seen you around before.You new to the scene?"

I shrug."Just needed a night out," I say vaguely.

John hands me the drink, his fingers brushing mine."Well, I'm glad you came.It’s always nice to see a pretty new face."

I take a sip of the drink.It’s stronger than what I had before, and the alcohol burns, but I welcome the sensation.It's better than feeling nothing.

"So," John says, leaning closer."Want to dance?"

I hesitate.Part of me wants to say no, to retreat back to my corner and drink until I can't think anymore.But another part, the part that's desperate to feel something, anything, nods.

John grins and takes my hand, leading me to the makeshift dance floor in the living room.The music is loud, the bass pounding through my body.John pulls me close, his hands on my waist.I close my eyes and let myself move to the rhythm, trying to lose myself in the music and the alcohol.

For a while, it works.The world narrows down to the beat of the music, the warmth of John's hands, the buzz of alcohol in my system.I don't have to think about my family, about the project, about the pitying looks.I can just be.

But as the song changes, I feel John's hands start to wander.His grip tightens, pulling me closer.I open my eyes, suddenly uneasy.

"John," I say, trying to pull back, "I need some air."

He doesn't let go."Come on, baby," he slurs."We're just getting started."

Panic rises in my throat.I push against his chest."Let go," I say more firmly.

John's face hardens."Don't be a tease," he growls, his grip tightening painfully.

"I'm not being a tease," I hiss."Let go of me."

Thankfully, he does and I manage to stumble back away from him.I turn back to the kitchen and grab myself yet another drink.I need everything to numb, to fade into the emptiness that I feel inside.

* * *

I spot the brunette walking into the house and my heart soars.Finally, someone I know.It’s Lisa, my best friend.

“Lisa!”I call out.She spins on her heels and I stagger toward her, glad she’s here.“You’re here!”

“I am, and you’ve been drinking,” she says, smiling.

I grin, shrugging my shoulders.“We both know what day it is today.How are you holding up?”It’s been three years since she almost died from trying to take her life because of that evil bitch of a step-mam she has—although that cow doesn’t deserve to be called step-mam, not after what she did to Lisa.

“I’m good.It’s been a long three years, but I’m in a better place.”

My smile widens.“Damn straight you are, girl.So, we’re partying, right?”I ask, knowing this is more for me and the numbness I seek than it is about her.Which is a shitty thing to do, but I can’t help it.

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