Broken

Chapter Twenty-Four: Goodnight, Princess

The girl was there. She was crying and screaming at me. Her hair was straight and matted to her forehead. She wore a slick black dress and heels but she didn't look happy, despite how gorgeous she was. Her eyes were bloodshot from anger. She yelled at me, "I can't believe you'd do this to me! After all I've done for you!"

"Katrina, I--" I heard myself say helplessly.

"Go to hell, Jordan!" She screeched at the top of her lungs. She turned to leave and my vision began to clear.

Katrina. Now I have a name.

I trembled on the ground. She looked down curiously.

"What's wrong with him?" It wasn't a caring question, it was more of a research question.

"Jordan keeps having these episodes. I mean they went down for a while but..." Johnny paused and looked at Katrina. "You started them again. Get away from him!" Johnny shoved her and she let out a small yelp.

"Johnny don't touch her." I requested. "Fuck!" I cursed.

"Jordan? Jordan!" She grabbed my hand as the world turned to black.

It was another memory but without all of the pain because this time I was unconscious.

I had offered to drive the birthday girl home. I was super duper nervous, I honestly didn't know what to expect. I had tried to plan this out perfectly because that's what Katrina deserved. I tried to avoid her the entire night. Let me tell you, it was painful. I mean I didn't even dance with her. I knew that she noticed I mean, she was smart after all. All I wanted to do was to be near her and hold her but I wanted to stick to the plan. The whole ride home I never talked to her, never sparked a conversation. We just sat without talking or singing, even as our favorite songs came on the radio.

After what had seemed like forever we made it back to the orphanage. It was the tallest on the block and the shiny light blue walls were stained with mud. The windows were covered in childish drawings and notes, and there were three wrap-around balconies for the little ones to play on. It wasn't a place that people imagined when they heard us talk about the orphanage, but it was good enough. Once I moved out of the orphanage and into my new apartment, I knew what real life was like. But the orphanage was still great. Home is where the heart is, they always say.

Kat thanked me for the ride, and I guess she wasn't expecting me to follow her in but I did. For one thing, it was dark and I wanted to make sure she got in. I had to be a gentleman like Ms. Leona had taught me. And two, it was all part of my plan. So we walked up the few stairs silently. She already had her room key in her hand. (The older kids had locked rooms for privacy. You know how teens can get.) I stared at her intensely. I was extremely nervous. We probably stood outside her door for five minutes before I took my old key and unlocked the door myself. I took her by the hand and led her inside. I would never forget the softness of her hand, so small compared to mine and yet gentler than the lightest feather.

The house was dark since the little ones were sleeping. Her room was on the highest floor, so we had to climb quietly the whole time. Within a few minutes, I felt my hand become clammy. If you were going to do what I was going to do, then you'd be sweating, too. Katrina's room was at the end of the hall so we walked the way there; our hands still between us. The floorboards complained under our weight, probably me since I had all the muscle. When I was away I started working out more and guess it paid off.

The door was cracked open a little bit and the lamp by her bed was on. She had a small bed, sea blue walls, a wardrobe cabinet and a small desk. I dried off my hand, grabbed her again and led her inside to her bed. She smoothed out her party dress. Katrina did that when she was anxious about something. She was on to me.