Why,I sign.
This time, he signs back.She’s your sister. This isn’t normal. I’m taking you away for a week so you can clear your head.
Fine,I sign back.
He hesitates, then steps toward the door. “Get dressed,” he mutters. “Both of you.”
He storms out, the door slamming hard behind him.
Carmen presses her palms to her head, staring at the wall as her fingers drag through her hair. “I can’t go back to juvie, Judas,” she says quietly. “You have to stop this.”
I move closer and crouch in front of her. I wipe the tear from her cheek and pull her against my chest.
“Is he going to hurt you?” She pushes me away for a second, panic flashing in her eyes. “Don’t go if he’s going to hurt you.”
She cares.
I grab her phone from the nightstand. I have no idea where mine is. I type slowly and move the screen to her face.
Nothing to worry about, little sister.
I stand and look at her.
“Promise?”
I place my palm on my chest and nod.
I take her hand and pull her toward me. She wraps her arms around me, burying her face against my chest.
“Text me, okay?”
I nod again.
I gently push her back, walk to the bathroom, grab my clothes, and leave her room. She stays sitting on the bed as I step out and pull the door shut behind me.
1.Asshole.
EIGHT
CARMEN
The reason I push people away is not because something is wrong with them. It’s because something is wrong with me. The reason I don’t let people in is not because I can’t. It’s because I choose not to.
Loving someone means losing them eventually, and I have lost too many people already. They leave. Theyalwaysdo. They look at me and see a problem, not a person. Something they want to get rid of because they can’t fix it.
That leaves me empty. Floating from one space to another, never belonging in any of them. When something good finds me, I question it. Not because I think I don’t deserve it, but because I know it will disappear. And when it does, I will be empty again.
I can’t let Judas inside my heart. If I do, I will lose him, too. I don’t know if I am strong enough for that.
I wear this mask of someone tough. But underneath it, there are cracks so deep no one could stitch them shut. Even if they tried, the scars would stay. Proof that I will never be okay.
I sit curled into the corner of the room. Piano music drifts up from downstairs. I don’t recognize the song. It repeats thesame soft melody over and over, like a lullaby meant to calm something restless. I try to force my thoughts to disappear, but they keep circling. Closing in. I feel like I am drowning.
I remember a documentary they made us watch in juvie. It talks about drowning. How your body fights at first. How you can’t open your mouth until the last moment. How the brain eventually gives up because it wants peace. It lets go.
Judas leaving feels like that. Like my brain finally giving up because I want the pain to stop. I let go because if I do not, I will be trapped in waiting forever. People never come back for me. They never have. They just stay away.
I snap the rubber tie against my wrist again. The sting makes me count my breaths while I stare at nothing.
