Whispers In The Dark

Riley

Riley

I broke the window in my bedroom and considered throwing myself out of it, but stopped myself. Don’t you dare, you goddamn hypocrite. I smashed the bottles in my closet next. It made my clothes reek of cherry and vodka, and the carpet was dark with the poison, but it was nothing compared to the rivers on my cheeks and the bitter taste on my tongue.

I stepped off the stairs. “Mom, Dad, what’s going on?”

Three pairs of eyes turned towards me; my mom’s, dad’s, and the police officer’s.

“Riley, go back upstairs,” my Dad said, tears in his eyes. He had his arm around my mom’s waist, keeping her on her feet.

I struggled to speak past the lump in my throat and diverted my attention to the officer. “What happened?”

His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. I didn’t know a police officer could become so uncomfortable in a simple situation. When my parents made no move to intervene, he told me, “I’m sorry, but we found your brother under a bridge; dead.”

I screamed and threw a bottle of perfume at the wall. It wasn’t as gratifying as the window, or even the bottles, but it was something to relieve the frustration coursing through my veins.

Robin whispered, “Reximus overdosed and I couldn’t stop him. I’m so sorry.”

“Why does this always happen!?” I yelled. There was no one to hear me but my mint green walls, but I had learned over the years that they were great listeners. “Why does everyone always leave!?” I picked up one of my old hockey trophies, fully intent on throwing it. “Why does it always--”

Arms wrapped around me from behind and a hand grabbed at my forearm, stopping me from bashing the wall with the trophy.

My dad’s eyes met mine, the same bright hazel as mine, as Skylar’s. He lowered us down onto the bed, his arms still wrapped around me.

“Shh, Riley,” he hushed. “Calm down. Please, just calm down.”

I couldn’t stop crying. I wanted to, but I just couldn’t. “He’s dead, Dad. Reximus is dead.”

He didn’t say anything, just rocked me back and forth. The sobs and tremors faded gradually. It was dark outside by the time that I stopped hiccupping and shaking. My dad let go of me and brushed the bangs off of my forehead. I wiped my face with the back of my hand.

“You’re going to start seeing somebody again, okay?” His voice was soft, and left no room for protest.

I was too tired to do so, anyway. I nodded. He left, and I was asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.