I swallow against the lump forming in my throat.I have no idea what to say back.The more time I’m with Bear, the more I’m seeing him in a different light.He’s peculiar—there’s no denying that—but it’s not all bad.He hides behind his bravado.There’s somebody else there inside of him.
He rolls over onto his stomach in front of me, then settles on a page in his book.
“Her screams are all I can hear when I close my eyes.The high-pitched urgency in her voice.‘Help me.Save me.Don’t let them hurt me!’But I couldn’t help her.The voices taunted me not to be weak, and I wasn’t.But I let them win.”He lets out a loud exhale.“I feel like there are two parts of me.Like my soul is split in two.One side, crazy.Dark.Evil.The other, light.Hope.Angelic.Optimistic.I don’t let that side out, ever.The dark side always takes control, and it’s getting harder and harder to keep him at bay.”
He slams the book shut, and a lone tear falls down his cheek.My heart breaks for him.I want to help, to make it better, but I don’t think I can.
He’s facing so many demons, and I’m torn between wanting to run as far away from him as I can and comforting him.
Chapter Fifteen
Amirah
The days have passed painfully slowly.I use an old rusty nail I found under the bed to mark the seventh day here as the sun beams in through the tiny window above the bed.This room is small; a single bed fits in the corner, and there’s a tiny bathroom across from it.Nothing else.The white paint is peeling off the walls.It’s gross.I prefer Bear’s room over this, but I’d never say that out loud.
I drop the nail onto the bed and bring my knees close to my chest.I want to go home, to leave, but I’m locked in here.Trapped.
After that first night, when he read his words to me, I woke up in here.He was gone, and silence consumed me.He visits me every day, telling me stories, sharing his poems, and we’ve gotten into some kind of routine.
He’s only here for a short time, then he leaves again and I’m left alone.I don’t like when he’s here.I want him to leave, but then when he does, I want him to come back.To have some kind of company.His words are all I can think about.The depth, the emotion in them—it’s creating a kind of sick obsession inside me.Every day, I’m craving more.
Being here by myself is driving me crazy.My thoughts won’t stop.I need to write them down, but I can’t.I don’t have a journal.They are bottling up inside of me.The voices won’t stop, and it’s becoming too much.I need to release them.
I grab the nail and start scraping the end into the dried-up paint next to my bed, writing out how I’m feeling.
Angry.
Broken.
Pissed off.
Prisoner.
Alone.
Useless.
Tears fall effortlessly down my cheeks as the words flow out of me.My shoulders drop, and it’s the first time in days that the heaviness inside my chest has released, just a little bit.I’ve always used my journal to write out my thoughts and feelings.Never did I imagine I’d be scratching them into a wall.
I lean back on my heels, looking at my scribbled words.It’s nothing like Bear’s artwork in his room.I’d never admit this, but I love what he’s done in there.The graffiti of his words covering all the walls—it’s a work of art.
Falling back against my pillow, I stare at the blank ceiling.Is my brother looking for me?Freya?Are they going crazy trying to find me?Do they know where I am?
I don’t want to just lie here, waiting to be rescued, but there’s no escaping Bear’s playhouse.The door is always locked and the only window above my bed is padlocked with bars on it.This place is full of surprises and danger.
I have to play this smart.I can’t overpower them.They are stronger than me, and even if I could, how would I find my way out?That first night, I tried, but I was trapped before I could even get past the roller coaster.
It makes me think about Jewel and those other girls who still need saving, how they would’ve felt being trapped.Knowing the enforcer would catch them if they tried to escape.Being so scared, worrying about what’s going to happen next.Who will help them if I’m here?Only last week I was ready to save them, to put an end to it.
Now this is my life.
My head is full of thoughts, and it’s weighing me down.I feel weak.My body is heavy, keeping me tied to the bed.What’s the point in trying?What’s the point in anything?I roll over to the side and stare at my thoughts on the wall, reading the words over and over until my eyes become heavy and this madness fades away.
Chapter Sixteen
Before
Amirah
