Broken Marilyns

STRANGE NOISES

STRANGE NOISES

Mr. Henley’s words played through my mind over and over again, reverberating through the night.  What made you come back here, Jenna?  Or do you really think it was your decision?”  My mother’s death, that’s what made me come back to Aldbrook - my mother’s suicide.  An image of her bloody arms dangling out of the tub flashed before me and then an image of Julia’s cuts.  No. 

The faint sound of bustling traveled up the stairwell from below.  I held my breath to listen; the floorboards were creaking - someone was inside of the house.

Quietly, I slid myself onto the floor and crawled beneath the bed.  Freezing, the wood panels stuck to my skin.  Keeping my eyes on the doorway, I pressed my ear to the floor and cupped my shaking hand over my other ear.

The intruder was moving slow but it didn’t sound like they were searching for anything.  The footsteps stayed in the middle of the room below.  For a few minutes I heard nothing.  I never knew silence could be the loudest and most terrifying sound of all.  Where are they?  Halfway up the stairs, a step groaned and I regretted asking my last question.  After a few more pops, the intruder's shoes crept into view as they walked right up to my bed and turned to sit.  The panic and terror of what was happening burned inside my throat and a heavy stream of tears tumbled uncontrollably, it took everything I had to not make a sound. 

One by one, the intruder's legs disappeared and the mattress above me bowed down, skimming my backside and my head.  I tried to create a decent plan of escape.  None of my options were guaranteed to end well but they all began with me crawling out from underneath the bed.

Slowly, I slithered on my belly to the edge of the bed frame.  Pulling myself those last few inches to the very edge of the railing, my fingertips lost traction and skidded across the floor making a shrieking sound.  Jumping slightly, I felt the mattress move on top of me.  Please, please!  I pleaded with any god who would listen to me. 

"Jenna?" A familiar voice called.  I let out a hitched breath and adrenaline dumped into my veins.

"Jack?" I bellowed fiercely.  Fuming, I crawled out and slammed my fist against the mattress - inches away from Jack's terrified face.  "What the fuck are you doing?  How did you get in here?" tears burned down my cheeks effortlessly.  My emotions jerked between shock, anger, and relief.

Jack just stared at me, bewildered, with his mouth hanging open.  Reaching to put his hands on me, I pushed them away and pointed at Jack as I spat the words "don't touch me" at him like venom through clenched teeth. 

"Your door wasn't locked.  Anyone could have gotten in,” he spoke weakly.

"Why are you here, Jack?  You can't be doing this, it isn't right." 

"I can't stop thinking about you," his eyes frowned, “I know this isn't right - I didn't ask for this to happen but it did."  And there he was again, the Jack I craved.

"Don't do this, this isn't fair," I echoed my thoughts out loud.  I couldn't survive this pain again.  "You have to go," I dropped my hands in defeat.

Looking at Jack was too hard so I focused anywhere but him.  Jack took my hands and kissed my palms, my wrists - my skin itched after his lips left, begging for more.  I closed my eyes tight.  "You really want me to leave?" I looked out into the darkness and felt his words surround me.  An inner battle of wills made me tremble nervously and I found myself shaking my head no.  No, I didn't want him to go, no, this wasn't right, no, I shouldn't do this.  Jack pulled me towards him by my wrists, the move symbolic of the power he had over me.  I was a prisoner to Jack, unable to pull away because I didn't want to.  The night began to move around me, hungry lips and wanting hands leapt from the pitch black.  There were explosions between us.

I didn't feel the heat of a lover's breath at my back in the morning or the clumsy stirring of a waking dreamer.  The only arms around me were my own as I cradled myself against the chilled morning air.  I didn't have to look to know that Jack was gone, I couldn't feel him anymore.  When I rolled to my side and saw for sure that Jack had left, a wave of hurt slapped me in the face and I cried into my pillow.  In an hour my tears would be dried away by the air, the same air I would breathe in and out and keep on living.