A/N: This chapter contains a description of sexual assault that might be triggering for some readers. Your mental health is more important than the number of views I get. I will not be offended if you skip this chapter and move on to the next (you won't miss anything too vital, I promise). Take care of yourselves, loves.
I watch as Raelyn positions the webcam so that it's farther away from herself. She casts a false smile and then lets out an equally false laugh. Her green eyes look lifeless, like she's already dead inside.
Oh, the irony....
"So this is it, y'all. This is my final encore," she says as she moves out of the frame. Seconds later, she reappears with a bottle of Jose Cuervo, my least favorite type of tequila.
"Oh, my god," Gemma murmurs beside me. Her normally copper skin is ghostly white. She looks like she's going to hurl.
I should say something, anything, to comfort her, but I'm so focused on the screen in front of me that I can't.
"This was my shit in high school," Raelyn continues, holding up the bottle of amber liquid. "My best friend, Gemma, and I would drink until we blacked out. This one time, we got so violently ill that we were up the whole night puking. We had to convince her parents and my grandma that we had both caught the flu." She twists off the cap and takes a long swig. "Tonight, ladies and gents, I'm hoping I do a little more than just black out."
"No." Gemma quickly pauses the clip. "No, no, no."
"Shh, it's okay." Griffin wraps his arms around my sister, pulling her into his comforting embrace. I'm glad he's here for her, because I'm useless at the moment. "I'm right here, Gemma. It's gonna be okay," he assures her.
I lean forward and click the play button. I know Gemma is struggling, but I need to hear what Raelyn has to say.
"Let's start with story time," Raelyn's melancholy voice fills the room once more. "I used to hate telling stories, but now that I have a small human, I've gotten pretty good at it. Not as good as her, of course. For a six year-old, she sure knows how to entertain."
Yes, she certainly does. I've lived with Evangeline for four months, and that girl is a riot. The only good thing that came from Rae's suicide was that it forced me to get to know Vange better.
"Anyway," Raelyn goes on, "I'll begin by sharing some background information about him. He was someone I didn't know very well, but someone I trusted. Someone I cared for. Someone I didn't think would ever hurt me in such a profound, fuck-me-up-for-the-rest-of-my-life kind of way. He did, though. He hurt me, and I guess that's why we're here."
I already know who the "he" in question is. Gemma, however, looks lost.
"That's why I'm recording this stupid video that I don't know if anyone will ever see. Most people just leave a note, right? I'm not much of a writer." She takes another sip of tequila. More than a third of the bottle is already gone. "Hey, maybe I should give Best Friend Gemma a call. She's the next Hemingway in the making."
"If you think that's even a little bit funny, Raelyn," Gemma hisses beside me, holding onto Griffin for dear life. He doesn't seem to mind, though, and once again, I catch myself feeling grateful for his presence.
"Actually, um, I wouldn't mind calling Gemma right now. It would be nice to hear a familiar voice," Raelyn mumbles, staring down at the bottle of tequila. "I can't... I can't do that, though. If I call Gemma, she'll try to talk me out of it. In all honesty, she's probably the only person that could."
"Why didn't you call me, Rae!? Why the hell didn't you call me?" Gemma exclaims. Tears flow down her face, leaving black mascara trails in their wake. Her hands are shaking. Actually, her whole body is trembling.
Griffin immediately presses pause. "Okay, maybe this is a bad idea. We really ought to turn this in to the police. I didn't know this was going to be a live-action suicide note."
"No police. We need to see the rest," I tell them with a firm shake of my head. We're so close to the end.
And they're so close to the truth.
"I'm gonna play it again," I announce before either of them can protest.
Raelyn's red lips wrap around the bottle once more. Now half of the liquid is gone. I cringe, thinking about how I would feel with that much Jose Cuervo in my system. Raelyn was forty pounds lighter than me. I'm surprised she was still able to talk without slurring her words.
"Back to him. Where the hell do I start?" Ah, I'm hearing it now—that drunken slur I was looking for. She is far from sober now as she says, "It happened during the first week of my junior year of high school. I was drunk, but not that drunk." She stares at the camera, a forlorn expression on her face. "Not drunk enough to black out. Not drunk enough to forget it.
"I was sad and vulnerable. A total cliche, really. He found me. He made me laugh. Then he kissed me. I didn't expect him to kiss me. I didn't want him to kiss me. I had a boyfriend! Mister Marco Diaz. God, I was in love with Marco. He had a rough exterior but a heart of pure gold.
"But that didn't stop him from sticking his tongue down my throat. I kissed him back, because what the hell else was I supposed to do? I tried to pull away, but he wouldn't let go of me. He was bigger, stronger.... I didn't stand a chance. I think that's why I let it happen.
"He pushed me on my back and then crawled on top of me. His body crushed mine, and I just... I started shouting. I mean, I didn't care who heard me. I wanted him off of me. I wanted someone to rescue me from what I knew in my heart was about to happen. He put one hand over my mouth to muffle my screams and pinned my wrist down with the other. He unzipped his pants, lifted my skirt, and pushed my g-string aside. Like, he didn't even bother to take off my underwear! Can you believe it?
"Then... then he pulled down his boxers just enough so that his c*ck was hanging out. He was rock hard as he forced himself inside of me. I... I gave birth to an eight pound baby, and I swear on my life that he hurt me more. It was my first time. I mean, I was a virgin."
She was a virgin. My brother didn't just rape her; he took her virginity, too.
"I think I kind of dissociated after that. I remember kicking and screaming but not being able to stop him. He fucked me until he came and then rolled off. As soon as I felt the release of his weight from my chest, I bolted. I ran away as fast as I could and didn't look back.
"Four weeks and one missed period later, I discovered I was fucking pregnant. The bastard didn't bother to use protection. Crazy, right? I mean, if you're going to force your c*ck inside someone against their will, at least make sure you don't leave them with an eighteen-year commitment. Am I right?"
Raelyn's tragic tale comes to an end. She buries her face in her hands and begins to bawl. At that moment, I realize I'm sobbing, too. I don't know how long I've been crying for, but based on my sore eyes and sniffly nose, it's been a while.
"I'm... I'm sorry. I'm just... I'm really drunk. I love Evangeline," Raelyn finally says. "I love her more than this world. She is the best thing I have ever done. Grandma Harriet used to say that beautiful things spawn from tragedies, and Evangeline is walking, talking proof of that. I would die for her."
She stares at the camera, her emerald eyes shiny with unshed tears. Next to me, Gemma is staring back at her with so much intensity that I feel intrusive just for being in the same room.
"I would die for her," Raelyn repeats, never looking away, "but I can't live for her anymore. I'm sorry."
And just like that, she reaches to her left and grabs an orange bottle of pills. I watch as she dumps several out into her hand but quickly close my eyes. I know how this ends, and I don't need to see it first-hand.
"No!" Gemma cries. Her voice is raspy and laced with pain.
"There you have it, ladies and gents," I hear Raelyn say. "This is my truth. My veritas. Please forgive me."
I open my eyes to a black screen. I guess it's all over now.