Page 111 of Doesn't Count

I finally let myself think about how I was feeling. Emotions wash over me like a tidal wave, flooding every orifice leading to my lungs.

Suffocating.

That’s how I feel. I feel like I’m drowning in an overwhelming sea of conflicting emotions. None more powerful than the next, all terribly consuming.

I swallow, surprised when it’s air rather than water that fills me.

“I’m a mess.”

“I can imagine.”

Though the room is dark, I can just make out Hypnos’ silhouette as he sits up and turns in my direction.

“You know you can tell me anything. I’m always going to be here for you, no matter what.”

“I know.” I croak, my throat aching with a suppressed sob. “I’m scared. Hyp, there are things I’ve done while I was with them that-” I swallow another bout of tears, “-that deserves a special place in hell. My parents can’t know. No one can know, but I have a strong feeling that they’re going to find out.”

“Like what?” He wonders aloud.

“Like playing God.”

He doesn’t ask me to elaborate and I’m thankful for that.Instead, he lays back down and we let the night creep on in silence. Even though exhaustion burns my eyes, sleep evades me. I chase it desperately, begging for just a minute of peace beneath the blanket of slumber, but memories surface one after another, dragging me back to hell.

Behind my closed eyelids all I see isFather’sface, all I feel are Bordeaux’s punishing hands, all I smell is the tinge of iron and metal. By the time I finally fall under, it’s a restless sleep.

Morning comes barging in like an army on a battlefield, chasing away my nightmares only to drag me through new ones. My eyes peel open, one after the other, like prying open a living muscle. My lids are heavy with exhaustion, but there is no use in trying to go back to sleep. I lay there in my old bed, listening to my parents bustling around downstairs, the front door opening, strangers waltzing in.

There’s a light knock on my bedroom door, forcing me to sit up. “Yeah?”

“Honey? Are you awake?” My mother peaks her head through the crack.

“I am.”I wish I wasn’t.

“Officer O’Neill is back along with some others.” She says, hinting for me to get up without actually asking me to do so. “Oh, and there are a lot of media folks outside our house. I suggest not opening the door to any of them. I think it’s best to just keep this private for now, don’t you think?”

Rubbing my palms down my face, I nod. “Yeah. Okay, I’ll be down in a minute.”

I groan as she shuts the door, Hypnos finally stirring.

“Don’t go outside today.” I warn him as I yank my T-shirt from yesterday over my head.

“Why? What’s going on?”

“News crews.”

“I assume they’re not here because of the band.” He chuckles.

“I’m afraid not.”

After we finish getting ready, Hypnos follows me down the stairs to the kitchen. Sure enough, Officer O’Neill is there with a partner drinking a cup of coffee. Across from him sits another man, not in a uniform, with dainty glasses and a slim turtleneck.

My mother instantly perks up the second she sees me, rushing over to my side as if I forgot how to walk.

“I made you breakfast. Why don’t you and your friend eat something while we answer more questions?”

My stomach rumbles, but the last thing I can think about is food. The taste of prison already sits bitterly on my tongue, and nothing will be able to wash it away. Regardless, my mother makes herself busy creating a pile of steaming, hot breakfast and shoving it into my hands. As I take a seat at the head of the table, I look down at my plate of eggs, bacon, hash browns, and toast thinking that this feels very much like a last meal.

None of this feels real. I have this urge to pinch myself to see if I wake up, but if I were dreaming, this scene would be painted red and reek of pain. It’s not, I’m awake and this bland nightmare is actually happening.

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