It's been about 2 weeks since I was released from the hospital. During that time, I slowly learned a lot about what happened that night. It was mostly things I heard on the news or read in the papers. Everyone else refused to tell me because they think it will hurt my recovery.
Yeah, whatever. My parents should at least be glad that I'm talking to them again. It took me a couple days to accept the fact that my baby was gone. After that, I started talking to them a little. Not much, but at least Mom isn't crying herself to sleep every night anymore.
Jonathan was killed. He tried to attack an officer when the lights went out. Another officer saw him before be could. He left them no choice, they had to shoot him. That was the first gun shot I heard with Ashley while we were in the room. Jonathan was dead instantly. It hit him right where his heart would've been if he had one.
I don't feel remorse for him. He never showed any to me so he doesn't deserve it. In fact, I was quite happy when I heard the news. Not because he was dead, but because he can never bother me again. The world is a better place with him gone. Olivia was shocked at the news, but I don't think she was upset over. At least if she was, she didn't show it to the cameras.
Chris and Matt were fighting just before the gun shot went off. Matt was just about to finish Chris off when he heard it, he got worried and ran back to the house to find me. I don't know how we didn't run into each other. We must've went separate ways or he got to the house before I left it.
I don't know. I haven't talked to Matt about it. We haven't really talked at all actually. Although I don't talk much to anyone. Mainly just one or two word sentences.
That leads me to another thing, the doctors have also concluded that I'm suffering from depression. It's not like I didn't know that. It doesn't take a genius to see it. I'll spend my days sitting in silence. Usually I'm alone in my room writing. I never leave the house and I never smile. If that's not depression, I don't know what is.
Anyways, that's I why Chris was still conscious on the ground when I found him. Matt didn't run because he was scared like Chris said, he ran to protect me.
Too bad he didn't show that commitment in the hospital.
What I found out next probably surprised me the most. Chris got me help. Not from Joseph like I was suspecting, but from the cops. He turned himself in and told them where to find me. In his own way, I guess he really did care about me. He proved that by turning himself in to protect me. I never would've guessed in a million years he would've done that. Honestly, I thought he would've had to die just so I could be free. He was always so psychotic about how I'd be his forever, but when it came down to it, he cared more for my safety than anything. That was the nicest thing he could've done for me. It's actually helped speed my recovery up.
Not everyone is as bad as they may seem. Even some of the darkest people have hope.
Chris is in prison now. He's being kept in isolation. All of his guards have had background checks done and have taken mental tests to check their sanity unlike the last guard, Oliver. No one should ever team up with Chris again, especially since he killed Oliver. Sentencing still has to take place, but he has already pleaded guilty. I guess there's no point in fighting a lost battle.
I haven't seen Chris since that night. I don't plan on seeing him again. Seeing him will only bring the pain back.
Joseph and Danny are also behind bars. Joseph got shot in the thigh, nothing too major, and Danny was found just as I left him. All three of them are being held at different facilities across the country. I don't know where or really care to know.
Now that I think about it, I don't care about anything anymore. Why should I? The more you care, the more you'll be hurt when you eventually lose it because nothing lasts forever. I don't think I can take much more pain. I've suffered enough to last a lifetime and I'm only eighteen.
It's a rough life ahead of me. Problem is, I don't know if I'm up for the challenge.
I'd be content to stay in my dark room forever. Things are so much easier when you're alone. You'll never get hurt or disappointed. Best of all, you won't be hurting anyone either. Some people may think I'm crazy- well, actually a lot of them do- but it's best this way. I'm as close to happy as I'll ever be.
My phone starts buzzing on the desk beside me. I glance at the caller id. I wonder who it is this time. The screen is flashing Ryan. I don't answer it, though. I let it ring until it stops.
After a few moments, it dings to show I have a new voicemail. Then the screen goes dark again.
Once it's quiet in here again, I curiously pick up my phone. Let's see, that makes 27 missed calls from Ryan and 45 unread messages. There's 7 calls from Ashton and only 16 messages.
Then there's Matt; 64 unread text messages, and 43 missed calls. I haven't gotten anything from him in the past 3 days. Maybe he finally got the message that I wanted to be alone.
Why's he calling me anyways? He left me when I needed him.
I haven't answered any of them back since I'm trying to distance myself from them. I just want to be alone. I can't have that if I have friends. Family I have to deal with, but friends I can let go. It sounds heartless of me, but it's best this way. I just want them to live life without me. I'm a lost cause.
A part of me died on that beach. I won't ever be the same.
"Morgan, dinner's ready!" Mom calls bringing me out of my daze. I don't answer her. She always calls me by name now. Otherwise she probably won't get my attention. Lazily, I get up from my desk chair. The only time I ever leave it is to sleep, eat, and use the restroom. It's not over comfy. Probably the main reason I use it so much is because it's better than laying in bed all day. That brings back too many memories from the boat.
I leave the dark solitude of my room and walk down the hall. Dinner is the one meal we eat as a family. Whenever we wake up is when we eat breakfast, and lunch is a different time for everyone because of our schedules. This is one of the only times we spend as a family.
I dread it every day.
My parents watch over me like hawks. I swear that they are always either looking at me, or trying to get me to talk. It's as if they are afraid of losing me again. I hate being the center of attention. Since Nick, Devan, and Evan are back in college, it's only my parents, Caleb, and myself here. Poor Caleb probably feels left out. It's Morgan this, Morgan that. Sometimes I think my parents forget he is there.
Caleb looks like he doesn't mind it, but looks an be deceiving. I've learned that the hard way. He could just be acting like he's fine with it. Someday, though, he will blow up over it. I don't blame him. It does stink to be left out.
Like always, I'm the last to get to the table. A big serving of spaghetti and meatballs is waiting for me at my place. I fight back rolling my eyes. This is another thing Mom has been doing. She's worried that I haven't been eating enough so she makes my favorite meals and gives me large portions. Her tricks don't work on me.
Besides, I'm not hungry anyways.
Already my parents are looking at me. Caleb is chowing down at his food, not really glancing my way. Caleb is probably my favorite member in the family right now. He's the only one that isn't treating me differently. He's just being good old Caleb. When it comes to his food, there is no stopping him.
I frown at my food distastefully. Dad and Mom watch me intently. I know I have to pick up my fork and start eating. If not, then they'll start pestering me like crazy. I'm not in the mood to deal with that right now.
I pick it up and start twirling the noodles around. I eat a couple of them just for show even though it makes my stomach churn. It tastes the same as always, but I'm not in to it anymore. Pleased that I'm eating, my parents start talking about court decisions and treatment plans.
That's another thing they always do that annoys me. They talk about me like I'm not here. Plus they don't give me a say in anything. Sometimes I feel just as trapped in this house as I did on the boat.
I zone put after awhile. It's the same thing everyday. I continue to play with my food. Dad keeps peeking at me from the corner of his eye. His dark eyes flick at me as he runs his hand through his graying brown hair. He's noticed that I'm not eating, but he won't say anything.
It's my Mom that gets me. Not long after Dad notices, she notices, too. "Morgan, why aren't you eating?" She asks.
By now Caleb has cleared his plate. He watches the drama unfold with wide eyes. I shrug, "I'm full," I say.
Mom pinches the bridge of her nose and sighs. It looks line she has aged ten years ever since I got home. I think I stress her out more now than when I was gone. "You've barely eaten," she says.
"I'm not hungry."
"Morgan, please," she begs.
I shake my head and stand up, "I'm done." Dad looks away disappointed, but Mom gets angry.
"Sit down!" She yells suddenly. Caleb winces at her outburst. I stay standing, challenging her. "Right now!"
Begrudgingly, I sit down but make no move to eat. She can't make me. I'm tired of being told what to do. "Eat," she says in a commanding tone that would have once scared me, but now I find rather comical. Does she honestly think she can scare me like she used to?
"No," I say simply. Everyone in the room freezes, including my Dad. No one has ever told Mom no when she was angry before.
She glares at me, "Morgan-"
"I said no," I cut her off.
"Morgan, listen to your Mom," my Dad finally speaks. He chose to come in at the wrong time.
"You're not leaving this table till you finish what's on your plate," Mom says. That's it, I've had it.
I push my chair back and stand up. It squeaks against the hardwood. "Stop telling me what to do!" I yell at them. "I'm not your baby anymore." I start to storm out.
"Don't you dare leave this room," Dad says. Mom has already started crying. Oh come on.
I turn back to them. Caleb is sitting there shocked. "Why? So you can control me, too? Living in this house is no better than being stuck on that boat!"
"I just want my little girl back," Mom sobs.
"This is your little girl, whether you like it or not. How do you expect me to act after being kidnapped and raped?! I'm sorry if I'm not perfect enough for you!" I don't wait to hear their reaction. I'm just tired of this. She is asking for too much out of me too soon.
I storm out of the kitchen, through the living room, and go straight outside to the back yard. I walk across the deck and sit on the bottom step. My hands are shaking and my breathing is still heavy from the yelling. I just had to get out of there before I said anything else.
It's late outside. The sun is close to setting giving everything and orangish glow. Street lights have already turned on. Our backyard is big and has a chain link fence around it. On the other side, there's groups of trees all around it. Our old swing set sits on the right side, looking old and abandoned.
This place brings back so many memories from my childhood; the water balloon fights, the bonfires, the many different versions of tag we'd play. All happy times. Sometimes I wish I could go back to when Devan and Evan were still living here; when Ryan and I were just best friends, no strings attached; when the world was just one big playground; when the only thing I knew was the innocence of being a child. It's all gone now. I can never get it back. I should've cherished it more, but then again, I didn't know how screwed up my life would become once Chris walked into my life.
No one ever thinks that this will happen to them until it's too late.
The screen door slides shut behind me. I never closed it. "If you're here to yell at me for not eating, I suggest you go away," I say expecting it to be Mom. "I'm not going to be the same girl I was before all this happened. You can stop praying for it now, Mom. It's not going to work."
"I already know that. Mom and Dad are the ones having trouble accepting it," Caleb says. I turn and look at him. He puts his hands up in truce, "I'm not here to yell at you or anything. I just want to talk."
"Ok," I say. He is doing something on his phone, and then he sits next to me. At least he understands me and isn't pushing me to get better. He has accepted that this is who I am. When did he get so mature? When I was gone?
We sit in silence as we watch the sun sink below the trees. "Don't you just love the sunset?" He asks. I watch him from the corner of my eye, never fully taking my attention away from the beauty of it. "I mean, it's one of the few things in this world that is certain. The sun always sets. We would easily die without it, but always comes back, bringing more light with it. It always brings a second chance. No matter how much we mess up, the sun will be there. You know, the world isn't that bad of a place, Morgan. There's always a new tomorrow."
I stare at him in awe. I can't believe that came from my little brother, the trouble maker of the family. "When did you become so philosophical?" I ask.
He laughs, but then looks down as if remembering something. He frowns slightly and shrugs, "I guess I did a lot of reading while you were gone. No one had time for me because they were all looking for you. I needed it as a new distraction so I didn't feel so useless. Ending up in the principal's office every other day wasn't cutting it anymore, especially with you missing. I just wanted to do something more meaningful."
I can feel the pain in his words. He's had it rough. I can't imagine what it would be like to have to go through that with my parents. They probably forgot about him... the same way they are right now. It's still all about me. I lean over and hug him. "I'm sorry," I say.
"It's not your fault. I don't blame you for any of it, I never have. I couldn't, not when you were missing and I didn't know what was happening up you."
I start to tear up slightly. "Ever since I got back, everyone's been treating me differently but you. Why?"
"Because you aren't different. You're still my annoying, big sister. Nothing will ever change that," he says softly.
"Thank you," I whisper. That's the nicest thing I've heard in weeks.
"Besides," he says. "It's painful to watch that."
"Watch what?"
"Mom and Dad. Gosh. It's like you're 8 and I'm 5 years old again."
I laugh and pull out of the hug. "You're the same as I remember."
He grins, "Well, except for the fact that I tower over you now and am all smart and stuff."
"Shut up," I laugh as I hit his shoulder.
"So are you done pushing people away now?" He asks serious.
"What are you talking about?" I say acting oblivious.
"You make it pretty obvious. I think I know what you're doing."
"And that is?"
"You don't want to get hurt again."
"I don't know what you're talking about," I say stubbornly.
"You don't want to lose anyone else. Morgan, you don't have to be afraid anymore. You're safe."
"How do you know?" I whisper.
"Brotherly instincts? My sixth sense? Take your pick, I don't know. What I do know is that he's not getting you again. What you're trying to do isn't living life. If you keep pushing people away, you are letting Chris control you still."
I nod. He's right. No matter how much I try to deny it, I'll never be happy if I keep pushing people away. I may think I am, but I'm not. I'm just scared.
I'm scared to be hurt again.
"So you never answered my question," he says.
"What question?"
"Are you going to keep pushing us away?"
"I don't know," I answer truthfully. I want to be happy, but is it really worth the risk of being hurt again?
"Well you better decide soon," he says.
"Why?"
Before he can answer, someone runs back here sounding panicked. "I got your text. Is she ok? What happened?" I freeze. I can't believe Caleb did this. Now dare he bring him here!
I glare at my brother, not even acknowledging his presence. "Caleb," I growl.
"Sorry, Sis, it had to be done," Caleb shrugs innocently. Then he gets up and starts walking towards the door. He looks at the man standing beside me. "She's fine."
"Then why did you say-" he says.
"It was the only way to get you here. I just can't watch this anymore. You two need to talk,"Caleb explains. Why did he have to get so smart all of a sudden? It's like he knows me better than I know myself. Usually that would be Nick's job.
"But I don't-" I interject.
"Morgan," Caleb says stopping me, "just remember what we talked about," he pleads and goes inside leaving me alone with Matt.
Hey guys! So I've been getting a lot of requests for a third book. As of right now, I am not doing one. I want to get Fearless started and then maybe, just maybe, I might do a short story or something. I'm not sure yet.
Big S/O to blacklabradorr for making me covers! I think they're awesome.
Let me know what you think and don't forget to hit the vote button!