Chapter Thirty-Seven

Deacon is slumped to the side, a hole where his eye was, the bullet passed through and took a massive chunk of brain and skull with it. They’re on the floor by the wall over there.

Nice splatter pattern.

“He’s dead,” Nokosi breathes, eyes wide and full of fear. “You did it. You actually killed him.”

“What? You thought you were being punked?” I laugh and blow on the end of the gun like an old western movie. I wipe the blood from Nokosi’s face using a white rag and kiss the tip of his nose. “You’re welcome.” I tuck the gun into the back of my pants, it’s hot but not so hot that it burns. “Can we kiss now? I deserve that much at least.”

He turns and vomits onto the ground, so I rub his back instead.

“It’s hard the first time. My first time were the guys that raped me and my sister. I took them out one by one. It was so fucking satisfying.”

“You’re insane,” he breathes, wiping his hand on his mouth and standing. “I can’t deal with this. I need to go.”

“Go? You’re not going anywhere. We need to get rid of the body.” I move to it, throwing a towel onto the blood pooling on the ground from Deacon’s head. I kick him back in his chair and start cutting through his bindings with a knife from my boot. “Help me then, don’t just stand there.”

“I want nothing to do with this.”

I stand and point the gun at him again. “You need to have something to do with this, so I don’t have to kill you. Please don’t make me kill you.”

“If you love me…”

I raise the gun; he’s overestimating how strongly I feel for him. “Help me get rid of the body.”

“Do it yourself. How did you do it before?”

“I had the strength then.”

The door opens slowly.

“Did you tell anybody?” I hiss, raising the gun with my heart racing. I point it at the door as a hooded man steps through.

“Sweetie, put the gun down,” the man says, his voice is so familiar. Pain slices through my chest as he raises his hands and pulls down his hood revealing dark blond hair and familiar eyes. “Put it down and we’ll fix this. We’ll get you the help you need.”

“Daddy?” I whimper, feeling grief from the loss of him hit me. “You’re dead.”

The garage metal shutter door slowly starts to open so I turn and shoot bullets through it. They hit the metal and somebody curses on the other side. Holes litter the metal, tiny holes but no blood.

“Sweetie, it’s just Nash and his father, Dasan.” He then calls out, “You all good, guys? Anybody hurt?”

Nash responds with a disgruntled, “Yes and no.”

“How are you alive?” I whisper, feeling my heart break and pain slice through me. “You killed yourself. You couldn’t handle what happened to us.”

His jade green eyes, like mine and my sister’s fill with tears. “No, honey, I didn’t kill myself. Remember? I abandoned you, I was in a dark place, but I didn’t die. I ran away like a coward. I should never have done that. I know it was wrong.”

Hot tears stream down my face as I point the gun at the chest of my father. The man who taught me how to ride a dirt bike, and tie my shoes, and kissed the grazes on my knees.

“But Mom said…”

“Mom’s not here anymore,” he breathes, choking on his sorrow.

“I saw her this morning.”

“No, sweetie…”

“Where’s my sister, she’ll tell you. Where’s Lilith?”

Nokosi looks at me and then at my father, realization dawns in his eyes. “No… how is that…”

My dad cuts him with a look and shakes his head. “Sweetie, I want to speak with Lilith now. Can you call her for me?”

“Call her yourself,” I bite back, feeling angry. “Isn’t she at the hospital?”

My head is pounding, my wave of energy is fading. Fuck.

“Honey, what do you remember about that time. The time you were assaulted and the years that followed?”

“Why?”

“Just tell me, I never listened because it was too painful, I put my own feelings before yours. I just want to know. What happened? What do you remember?” He stays calm, still smiling gently, his eyes wary and on me.

I let memories wash over me. “I got sick…” I blink rapidly, my head is throbbing. “Why do we have to do this?”

“Please, for me, for Nokosi, so he understands.”

I lower the gun slightly. “I got sick. I wanted to enjoy what was left of my life. So I… umm… I partied and then we were raped.” He flinches, so does Nok, so do I. It’s still painful to think about, even now. “And I spiraled, I wasn’t myself anymore, nobody was. And then… I killed them and we moved and nobody knew. Nobody, not Lilith, not you, or Mom.”

“Lilith didn’t know you killed them?”

“No,” I whisper. “She found out in umm… I don’t know… my head hurts.”

“That’s okay,” Dad whispers, putting his finger to his ear and scratching it. He seems to whisper to himself, “Not yet.” Who is he talking to? “When did she find out?”

“I don’t know,” I cry, feeling my throat constrict and burn as bile forces its way back up. “Vegas.”

“Right.” Dad looks excited now. “And when was Vegas?”

I shake my head and almost drop to my knees as more pain thumps under my skull. “I don’t fucking know.”

“Think. What school did you go to last, who was your last victim?”

“I DON’T KNOW!” I scream, pointing the gun at him again. “STOP! STOP MAKING ME THINK!”

“Why don’t you want to think? Tell me? Why can’t you figure out your memories? Is it because you’re trying to place pieces that were never there?”

“What?” My hand is trembling, my teeth are chattering.

“When was Vegas?” Nokosi asks me gently. “When did you kill your last victim?”

“Maybe November?”

“Yes,” Dad pushes, “and what happened in Vegas, sweetie? What happened in Vegas?”

I grip my temples with the heels of my hands, gun still gripped tight.

I can see my sister flashing in my vision. She’s doing something, she’s stabbing somebody in the stomach but no… that’s not right that was me. I did that.

“I killed him… but Lilith killed him… but she hasn’t had brown hair in so long… who is that? Did I do that?” I look at my father. “Daddy… I don’t understand what’s going on.” A sob tears its way up my throat. “My head hurts.”

“You’re sick, baby, you’re very very sick and it’s not your fault. None of it is your fault.”

My hands are squeezing her throat. I’m choking her. But I love her.

“I didn’t kill my sister!” I screech, falling to my knees now. “I didn’t kill her. I wouldn’t do that. I loved her.”

“Your sister was beyond help, Lilith.”

“NO! I’m Willow.”

“No, you’re not,” Dad says, sinking to his knees in front of me. “You’re not Willow, you’re Lilith.”

“What the fuck?” Nokosi breathes, stepping back away from us both.

Dad reaches up, cupping my cheek, and then he rips my hair from my head forcing me to almost fall to the side.

“NO!” I scream and hit my dad around the face with the gun, he falls and the gun leaves my hand, landing on the floor by the brown wig.

I scramble for it but so does Nok. I’m faster, I grasp it and put the barrel against his forehead. The safety is off.

My hand goes to my head. I should have nothing but a layer of wispy hair and scalp but instead I find a knot of hair at the base of my skull. I pull it free and let the pink hair hang over my shoulder.

“What’s happening?” I cry, tugging on the hair to make sure it’s real.

“Lilith?” Nokosi breathes, his face a mask of devastation.

“This is all your fault,” I hiss at him. “If Lilith hadn’t fucking fallen for you, you’d be dead already and we’d be gone.”

“No, he wouldn’t be,” my dad yells, nursing the bleeding gash on his head with his dark sleeve. “Because you didn’t kill those people, Lilith. Willow did.”

“I AM WILLOW!” I remove the silencer and shoot at the ceiling to frighten them but all it does is make my ears ring and make me see things that didn’t happen.



***



Lilith

I climb from my bed, feeling lethargic and weak. I don’t remember how I got here or how many pills I popped this time. My head is spinning.

I check my phone, but I have no messages… but then… my phone fades. What the fuck? I better not be in another nightmare again.

“I AM WILLOW!” Somebody yells and it echoes around my room.

The fuck is that?

Is my sister having a meltdown again?

“Will?” I call and exit my bedroom then cross the hall into hers. “Willow, you okay?”

She’s not here, her bed is empty. I need to talk to her, to tell her that she’s not going to die alone. That’s the one silver lining that I can take from this, my sister won’t be alone in death.

My vision splits for a second and I see plastic walls, blood, Nokosi… Dad?

I shake my head and I’m back in Willow’s room again.

Fuck, this tumor is fucking fucked.

My head. Ugh.

I go back into the hall and sit on the top step as the plastic room flashes back into view again. I almost fall down the stairs trying to lean to avoid this weird room that seems to be spinning out of control yet not moving at all.

“Brain… please… stop.” I rub my temples and slide further down the stairs on my ass. So unattractive.

“WILLOW?” I shout but still no answer.

“What did you do?” Mom screams at me all of a sudden, and when I blink, I’m… in a red room faced with furniture I don’t recognize but then I also do. It’s familiar, a memory perhaps. “Oh my God… Oh my God… my baby, my sweet little girl.” She’s sobbing, holding something on the bed.

I shake my head and I’m back again, in my house in Westoria. WHAT THE FUCK?

It feels like I’m walking through syrup. My legs are lead.

I head to the kitchen, maybe she’s in there? But that’s empty too.

“I wouldn’t kill my sister, I love her,” Willow’s broken voice floats around me… or is that my voice?

Sometimes even I get confused.

“WILLOW?” I shout, opening the back door.

Mom grabs my arm and pulls me into a hallway. “We need to go,” she whispers, tears streaming down her face. “We have to get you somewhere safe. Somewhere they won’t find you.”

I pull against her. “What the fuck, Mom? Let me go. Where the hell are we?”

Falling to my knees, I’m back in my kitchen again, holding on to the door handle for dear life.

Jesus. I think I should go back to bed.

“LILITH LOVES NOK, IF YOU DO THIS IT’LL DESTROY HER!”

Dad? Was that my dad? Is he gonna appear too? Fuck me what a trip. What have I taken?

My body lurches backwards. I’m in a car, Mom is speeding down the highway, still sobbing.

“She was bad, Mom. She killed all those people. I had to.” My mouth is moving, and words are coming out but I’m not saying them right now.

Scenery blurs by, a mess of black and white patches fading out of existence.

“You could have called the police!” she shrieks at me. “We could have gotten her help!”

“She was in so much pain. They’d have locked her away for thirty years and then killed her anyway. She’s at peace now.”

I look down at my trembling hands and my tears fall onto them. Is this a memory? It feels familiar.

The pain I’m suddenly feeling feels all too familiar. Both mental and physical.

The car lurches to the left, through a metal barrier and down a steep road. I’m tossed around in the car. So much pain.

It hurts so bad.