My breathing quickens and I stare at Daxon.
What did he just do?
His gaze falls on me and the smile on his face fades. I take a step back.
"Oh no, I scared you." He tucks the gun back in his sweatshirt and moves towards me.
I hold up my trembling arm and he halts.
"I want to walk home alone. Don't follow me." I turn on my heel and walk away from him, hurrying to leave the scene.
Daxon killed him.
"Naomi!" I ignore him.
I need time to think. I just have to think.
Daxon's going to prison and he's trying to make me his fucking accomplice.
I can't believe it. I liked that suit guy. Moe.
No, no. These aren't the right thoughts. I should feel bad, I should be terrified. I am terrified. I do feel bad.
I do.
What the fuck does he think he's doing? What the fuck even was that?
If people could go around killing people I wouldn't be so much of a nutcase, I could just...
Do what I want.
I stop, staring at the sidewalk below me.
That isn't what you want. It's not.
My hands still shake and my heart pounds hard in my chest.
I need my meds.
I jog down the block, open my door, and slip off my bookbag, running up the stairs.
I won't let this miss up my progress. I can't let this fuck up my system. I'm already satisfied fucking with people's heads. I can't want more than that.
I enter my room, pulling open the drawer with the last tube of pills I stuck back here a couple months ago.
My parents just give them to me now. They know better than to check whether or not I'm actually taking them.
I pop the top and take two capsules, swallowing the down dry.
This will give me peace.
The bitter taste lingers in my mouth. I mope over to my bed, turning myself over and on to it.
It didn't even happen. You didn't see it.
You don't want to be behind the trigger.
I shake my head, taking a deep breath.
I sit up, pulling my shirt over my head and undoing the buttons on my jeans.
The path of the hallway stands empty as I undress to the bathroom, discarding my clothes on the way.
I go in the room, naked, moving right into the bath.
This is stupid. I knew he was bad news.
The hot water coats my skin, steaming up the air around me. I scrub and scrub, hard against my body.
My mind is the most filthy part of me and I can't reach it. If soap was edible, would that make me better?
The meds set in as I wash the suds off my body. A hum begins, drowning out my emotions, pushing me into a box with my head.
Good.
I finish the shower, wipe myself down with a towel, and dry my hair. Walking back to my room, I put on some lotion, perfume, and Vaseline on my lips.
The silence in the house welcomes me as I make my way to the kitchen.
Daxon can't be trusted? I agree.
I get a deli sandwich out of the fridge and sit in the living room. I turn on the TV, clicking the I.D. channel. My favorite.
I stare at the screen blankly, watching as the episode plays.
With the stillness in the air and the silence in my mind, I take a bite of my sandwich.
And another. And another.
The episode ends and I go to bed.
The world moves slowly, yet fleeting.
I lay my head to rest on my pillow, closing my eyes.
The gunshot from earlier replays in my head and I hear again and again until sleep takes me.
***
Numb.
Moving but not experiencing.
I watch as my body walks up the stairs, down the hallway, and into my bed.
She lays there, an empty shell.
A poison that can cut off your limbs and yet have them right there, still attached. They should be illegal.
I stare into the mirror, as I brush my teeth.
Yeah, the pills were not a good idea.
I urge my mouth to spit and a second later, it does. Like I have a lag.
Splashing cold water over my face, a little bit of life returns to me.
I flex my fingers, cracking my neck and joints.
Daxon killed Moe.
I ran away from it yesterday, but now it's back and bigger than ever.
I'm guessing the police will be at my doorstep anywhere from today to next week?
Why did he kill him anyway? Cause Moe told me not to trust him? That's already suspicious as it stands, how am I supposed to even ever talk to him again?
Killing animals that did nothing to you is wrong.
Yes it is wrong. I agree.
I swipe the towel off the rack and wipe down my face.
I have to be honest with myself. They can't hear my thoughts. I'm free to think what I want.
I shouldn't have turned to those meds. Never.
I take a deep breath and exhale.
The image of Daxon, pulling out his gun with that look, and shooting the man dead was...
A tingle shoots through my stomach.
That thought is off limits.
I hobble over to the kitchen as the blender goes off. My mom stands behind the stove, tossing up bacon and eggs.
What...?
"Hey, honey, I saw you took your meds yesterday." She smiles at me and sets a plate to the side.
"How'd you know that?" I ask, going to the fridge. The cold of an apple seeps into my palm as I grab it from the fridge.
"I'm glad you've decided to take them again." She slides the bacon and eggs on to the plate and goes to the cup cabinet.
"I haven't." She freezes.
I roll my eyes.
"Naomi, you can't keep doing this to me and Michael." She puts down the cup and stares over at me.
I chomp into my apple.
"Doing what?" I talk through the food.
"Driving us crazy." She says, throwing the cup in her hands to the ground. It shatters and the glass goes in all different directions.
I scoff.
"It's not me, you guys might just be crazy." I step over the mess best I can, as pain shoots through my foot.
I wonder how a bullet to the foot would feel.
"You must be fucking contagious then." She snarls.
I blink at her.
"Yeah, cause that's how it works." I walk out the kitchen, careful not to step on the shard in my foot.
"You're going back to the institute."
I tense, turning back.
"Don't play around like that." I walk back over, forgetting about the glass or pain.
"You can go back, considering how much you don't take your medicine. I'll make sure you rot in there. You can't just ruin my life. I didn't s-"
"Sarah! What have you done?" My father appears at the entrance, pushing past me, as usual buttering her up.
"You're such a drama queen. Grow up." I say. My mom smiles as she leans into my father's chest.
"I already made the call." I clench my fists.
No wonder she was so happy.
"Fuck you." I turn and charge off to my room. Slamming the door, I pace.
Why is this week deciding to be so difficult? I've done everything, I didn't even beat Meghan ass when I could. Fuck this.
I've held back all of myself and put on an acceptable façade for these people, and after all that, she's still sending me back to that hell?
Bright lights blind my eyes and I shake my head.
The meds have worn off.
They want a reason to ship me off, I'll give it them. No point in holding back anymore.
I smirk.
I hope Daxon didn't go to prison just yet, I have tons of questions to ask him.
____________________________________
247 - 7/29/20
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