chapter 9

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A chill of fear causes me to run bare-assed quickly to the bathroom and wrap my robe.

"How did you get in my room?"
I ask keeping my anger in check.

He draws a hissing breath and drawls,"I came to check up on you and when I found the door open I just let myself in. Aren't you happy to see me?"

Heady anger surges through me I almost lose balance but I hold myself to the roots firmly.

"You heard me come in and waited until I  was Stark naked to make a sound? If you really wanted to check up on me, why didn't you just do it immediately I came in? " I ask truculently.

He draws a hissing sound and stiffens at my question.

"Becca I-"

"Get out!"

"I wanted to surprise-"

"I SAID GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY ROOM." I lose it and it's by the strongest dint of will that I refrain from slapping his baffled face.

Alarmed by my yells, my mum knocks at the door. I open and her gaze falls on his face.

"What's going on in here? " She asks in an even voice.

Unable to contain my rage, I blurt out." Mum can you explain to me what he is doing here? Are those bags his bags? Do you know what he did? This pervert just watched me bollock naked without saying a word."

The door clicks shut.

"Honey, I'm sorry I didn't tell you your dad is now moving in with us."

All soupy, I think about the walk of my life. I picture myself in a tracksuit running with all my might.

" Can I get some space now? Without feeling like I am in a strip club bare-assed?  I say in the calmest tone and gesture them to leave.

Dementedly, I punch my bed over and over again.
Deathly rage screams in my nerves, I clamp my pillow over my mouth to prevent any sound from escaping followed by angry kicks and twists.
What is wrong with the world? Why does it keep giving the wrong people space to dance on? I mean, why the fuck did she allow him to move in with us after all the things he has done?

I don't take a shower. I put on a vest and buggy pants in real tizzy and stomp out of the house.

I feel like the wall I have been building lately is now in rubbles.
I don't know how possible it is to hate someone this much but I feel the want to kill and send him with a letter to Becky saying, she killed me. She avenged you. The faster I run the Wilder I think of toasting his head in an oven and sticking it with forks. The faster I run the clearer the images of the night Becky died come at me. The faster I run the lighter the weight of realization that I have been distracting myself not to feel the pain and loss of Becky hits me. The harder the pressure of school and disgust of my name that makes others criticize me rubs my conscience and the more Brian's words suddenly click!
I see Beckys face and hear her voice when she held my thumb that night and squeezed it to her last breath. All the pain I felt when she left exagerrates in my chest I slump my body and hide my face behind my hands as though it is a bad dream and will disappear.

I get to the woods again. But this time I'll find my way back and Basilisk won't have a moment to scare me away.
I have to think of how I'll survive this emotions. I play some dreary music and feel languorously calm.
Moments like this, when all is blurry and soulless, I like to think about love. Moments when I have felt loved and moments I have imagined it to last. I have feelings for Brian. I should tell him about everything I am going through so I should call him and ask him to come help me escape my reality. I dial his phone but he doesn't answer. Just like dad didn't answer when I needed him the most. How classic!
And by just that single thought, I don't call him again.
I instead send him a message saying I miss him.

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