“I wouldn’t call a friend dying a bad mood, Boone.” I scowl.
“You’ve been in a knot for weeks, this was just the catalyst,” he says, “she told Sunday that you’ve been sleepwalking again.”
“Fuck—”
“Yeah, how often?” He asks.
“Once a week, maybe,” I snap. “Less when she’s home,” I admit, and Boone nods.
“Okay,” he sinks to his heels in a squat and stares at me. “So tonight?”
“Lucid—but he touched her, and…"I flipped out like an animal.The anger had been building since this morning, and I knew eventually it would snap. I just didn’t think it would look like this. “Is she mad?” I ask quietly.
“She’s fine, working the bar with Kaia.” He shrugs it off. “Can I trust you to be alone with her?”
“Wow,” I scoff.
“It’s a legitimate question, Bri, if you’re not in control…”
I’d never lay a hand on her.
“We’ll be fine.”
“Not what I asked,” he retorts.
“You can trust me,” I sighed.
“You aren’t alone.” He stands and taps the door frame. “I just wish you’d figure that out because it's getting exhausting banging on closed doors, Bri.”
“Try living behind them.” I drop my head between my knees as he disappears, I don’t breathe properly again until I hear the front door open and close. I don’t know how much time passes before I open my eyes again, but I hear the bathroom door shut, and I know Rhea has finished closing up downstairs. I check my watch, and it flashes two am in my face like it’s laughing at me. She could have come upstairs at any point to talk,but she didn’t because you’re an idiot.
I push off the carpet, stripping from the Hollow t-shirt and tossing it on the floor. It’s only then that I look around and see the mess I made this morning. Everything is tossed about and misplaced. I start cleaning my mess, piece by piece, until the room is back in order and I can breathe again.
Just go talk to her, coward.
What if that was the straw? What if that aggression drives her out of reach? I only knew what she wanted me to know about her dad, but Iknow he was rough on her. On all of them. And tonight I proved that that monster resides somewhere in me.She’s probably terrified of you.
I pull on a hoodie and walk down the hall, hesitating before I knock on the bathroom door. The water isn’t running, and I know she’s behind it, but she doesn’t answer.
“Hellcat…” I try her nickname first, trying to sound gentle instead of guilty.I’m a hot head, I know. Just don’t ignore me.“Hey.” I knock again and wait. “I shouldn’t have done that tonight. Can you just… open the door?” I ask, wrapping my hand around the knob with the intention to go inside anyway. If she wouldn't come to me, I’d make her to look me in the eye and tell me that she’s done.
But it’s locked.
I breathe in, trying it again.
Still locked.
“Rhea.” I press my head against the wooden door and try it again, but it doesn’t budge under my advances. I knock again, only to be met with more silence. “Don’t do this,” the plea is quiet. There’s nothing to stop the panic that surges up through me, and any other day, I might be able to curb it, but I'm walking on a tight rope with little to no balance left.
I’m not mentally equipped to deal with a locked door today.
“Rhea,” I say again, louder this time, and bang on the door with my hand. It heaves under the weight but doesn’t open, and she’s still silent on the other side. My hand shakes against the door, and I try to focus on the sound behind it as my memories flicker dangerously around in my mind. It’s like a wall is breaking and every single suffocating memory is seeping back into my consciousness with remorse. I can feel the tub overflowing and drenching the carpet under my feet, and I can smell the blood on my skin weeks after returning home. My whole body tenses.
Sunday would have taken your place as the seventh.
I bang again.
“Rhea, come on! Open the door, please.” My voice cracks, but it doesn’t budge.
