A Whisper To A Scream (18 page)

Chapter 21: Emotion

When Adam sat across from Ellory in the car,
he felt something, the depth of emotion inside of him expanding.
That frightened him and thrilled him at the same time. Was there
hope for him? Was there a chance he could be normal?

“Am I losing it?” Adam asked himself as he
paced back and forth across his front porch. He never thought he
would ever be able to think those three words. Three magical words.
But he did, he thought about saying them. He considered telling
Ellory he loved her. The moment he thought about them, his heart
stopped beating. He felt emotion. The first he’d ever felt in his
life.

When he first came to Burton, his heart was
made of ice. Now, the more time he spent with Ellory, the more he
felt the slick, crystallized water surrounding his cardiovascular
organ shattering. He remained baffled. How could one girl make him
feel when all of the others couldn‘t?

Sure, he had carnal instincts just like any
other guy. In Chicago, he’d hooked with at least a dozen girls to
satisfy those needs. And most of them were only one night stands
because he had to fight off his inner demon to keep himself from
killing the girl he’d just hooked up with.

Afterwards, he’d rush out of the room. He’d
start hyperventilating. He’d pace back and forth in front of the
door, trying to convince himself not to go back inside.

That’s how it always was when he got his
urges. He had two voices in his head that constantly spoke to him.
The better part of him would try to keep him calm and focused,
while the devilish part of him screamed, “
Blood! Blood!
Blood!”

It took him years to get the bad part of him
under control. He’d read about people just like him who had gone on
killing spree’s sprees and wound up in jail for life, or worse,
sitting on death row. As much as it pained him to contain the
urges, he didn’t want to wind up like those people.

Even if Ellory made him feel, the dark part
of him was still there, hibernating. As long as Ellory was around,
he didn’t see him but, but when she wasn’t he caught a glimpse of
him, like the other day with Katie, in the library.

Katie was trying to be intimate. She had ran
her fingers along Adam’s forearm. The feel of her touch made his
skin crawl and he couldn’t completely focus on that because he had
been imagining blood pouring from her neck.

She had been trying for some time to get him
to succumb to her flirtations. Adam tolerated her, because he knew
that she was like a mosquito bite— the more you scratched— the
faster the sting went away. If he quit talking to her, period, she
would annoy him ten times more. He knew that if he did keep talking
to her, she’d eventually give up when he kept refusing her.

He sat down on the steps of his front porch
and held his head in his hands. Sometimes it bothered him that he
couldn’t decide who he wanted to be. The good Adam or the bad Adam
and thus far, he’d seen more of the bad Adam than he’d seen of the
good Adam.

He wished it was easier for him to be good.
But it wasn’t. It was so much easier for him to be bad. So very,
very bad.

He thought of himself as a vampire—except for
the fact that he didn’t drink blood. And for the fact that vampires
were mythical creatures anyway.

Yet, Adam and vampires were so similar. They
both craved blood. Not in the same sense because vampires needed it
to live, but because they both wanted it. They both got a certain
high from blood and they both would kill for it.

Adam needed to get a hold of himself. He
needed to go find Ellory. She, and she alone, would put his mind at
ease. He rose up from the steps and turned toward the front door.
He put his hand on the knob and turned it. And that was when he
heard…. The footsteps.

He whipped around and saw Katie Halston,
stumbling through his front yard. He dropped his hand at his side.
Stay or go? He debated with himself. He knew that if he went inside
and tried to find Ellory, that the good Adam would prevail. But, if
he stayed out here with Katie, the monster would come out, and most
likely, Katie Halston would wind up on tomorrow’s news as a missing
person.

He reached out, almost touching the door
knob. The sound of Katie’s footsteps throbbed in his ears. He
looked up at her. She met his gaze. “Oh, hi, Adam,” she giggled.
His palms started to sweat. His hands were shaking. If only she
didn’t speak to him. Don’t look at her. Adam, don’t look at her.
She came closer. The sound of her footsteps pounded against the
hollow wooden steps. “Where are you going in such a hurry? Are you
avoiding me?”

He wanted to shout,
Yes, you moron! I am
avoiding you! Only because I’m trying to save your life!
Katie
inched closer, and when she was directly behind him she placed her
hand on his shoulder. Adam turned slowly. He didn’t even look at
her face. His eyes went straight to her neck.

His fantasy started with little droplets of
blood forming on her neck like a red pearl necklace. They grew
bigger and bigger, until they looked like red bubbles that were
just about to pop. They spilled over, dripping down the front of
her shirt, forming little puddles at her feet.

Adam finally met her gaze, a charming,
trusting smile on his face and a wicked gleam in his eye. “No,
Katie. I wasn’t avoiding you,” he said. “I have something to show
you.”

“Really, what it is it? It isn’t something
scary, is it?”

He took her hand and led her off of the front
porch and into the darkness. “No. It isn’t scary. I’m sure you’ll
love it.” In Adam’s case, the bad definitely outweighed the good.
For Katie Halston, that was a terrible, terrible thing.

Chapter 22: My Forever

I don’t know what time it is when Adam comes
in, but I hear someone fiddling with the lock and I open one eye,
glancing at the alarm clock on his nightstand. It’s 1:30 in the
morning. The door creaks open. Footsteps plug up my hearing and
stop abruptly. I roll over and Adam freezes. “What are you still
doing here?”

I sit up and motion for him to come closer.
He doesn’t move. “Come here,” I say softly and hold my arms
out.

He flinches and looks away. “Just go home,
Ellory.”

His words kill me. I swear I can feel my
organs shutting down. One-by-one the ache consumes me. I exhale,
but stay strong. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I want you to leave!” Bluish veins protrude
from his neck and his cheeks are a fiery red. “Get out!”

I shake my head. “No.” I stand my ground.
“Whatever you think you are can’t be that bad, Adam. And even if it
is, I don’t care. So quit pushing me away.”

His jaw locks and he snarls, “You don’t know
anything about me. What kind of person I am or what I’m capable of.
So just leave.”

I know he doesn’t mean what he’s saying. He
can’t. “Adam I know you don’t mean this.” My throat hurts and I
bite back tears. “I can help you. I love you.”

“You can’t help me! I’m not a broken lamp!
You can’t fix me, damn it!”

He’s on the borderline of rage and hysteria.
He’s shaking and seeing him like this tears me up inside. I move
closer and try to hold him, but he backs away. “Stop shutting me
out.”

“I don’t know how many times I have to tell
you to get out!” He paces in front of me. “I don’t want you
here!”

“You’re lying!” I slam my foot into the
floor. “What’s wrong with you? One minute you tell me you can’t
function without me. The next you tell me you want me to
leave!”

He’s silent for a moment. He breathes heavily
and raspy like he’s suffocating and every breath of air he sucks in
is precious. “I was confused about you,” he tells me. There’s no
emotion at all in his voice. He tenses up, a chilling, yet
frightening look on his face. “I don’t feel anything for you. I’m
sorry I led you on.”

A sickening pain cuts through my stomach. I
hunch over, wrapping my hands around the back of my knees. I can’t
breathe. I keep telling myself he’s lying. I keep telling myself
that eventually he’ll break down and tell me he’s sorry. He’ll tell
me that he doesn’t know what’s come over him. But he doesn’t and
the incessant pain inside of me clutches onto me tighter and
doesn’t let go. I hit my knees as the pain spreads. It travels
through me like a virus, branching off and infecting a different
portion of my body. All of my limbs hang heavy. My heart is hollow.
The walls in Adam’s room are closing in and in seconds I’m afraid
they’ll smother me to death. Is this what heartbreak feels
like?

Before I know it, I’m sprinting through
Adam’s yard. Away from his house. Away from him. I wish I was the
way I was before I met Adam—numb. To everyone and everything. Just
another person walking around closed off, unable to feel. I was an
emotional zombie and I liked that way.

I charge forward faster, muscles in my thigh
stretch and my calves are sore. I don’t care though. I don’t care
if I make it home. I don’t care if I fade into the darkness and
never see the light again. All I want to do is run. Run until my
lungs collapse. I want to run until my feet bleed. Somehow running
helps the emptiness from growing inside of me. Running helps ease
the pain.

The sounds of night crawl on my skin like
earthworms after a rainstorm. Crickets chirping. Long grass
swaying. Someone has burned a pile of leaves and the charred scent
of ash and death swirls through the wind. The only light I have is
the moon and soon the sky lantern is blanketed by a mass of thick
grey clouds and I can’t see anything at all.

Still I keep going. Until I can’t
anymore.

Half-way to my house I slow down, feeling
light-headed and woozy. I stagger, trying to push myself further.
It’s not that far. I squint, breathless. I can see the red bricks
from here. I lose my balance and hunch forward. I’m falling. I know
it’s only a short drop, but I feel like I’ve just thrown myself off
a cliff. My face skims the wet grass and a searing pain travels
along my jawline.

I don’t want to move. I don’t have the
physical or emotional strength to go any further. Another deep,
rippling pain takes hold of my heart and I curl up into a ball,
clutching my sides. Then my eyes water up. Tears brim over the
edges. Finally the dam of my lower lid gives way and the tears rain
down my cheeks. Every time I try to stop more come out harder and
faster. I haven’t cried in years. Now I know why. You truly know
that you’ve been damaged when the only thing you can do is curl up
into a ball and cry about it.

Chapter 23: Mended

Mom is watching me sleep. I can feel her eyes
on me. My eyelids flutter open and I shield my eyes as Mom peels
back the blinds and the bright sun penetrates my gaze. Mom gives me
a worried glance. “Sweetheart, are you okay?”

I sit up and blink several times. “I’m fine,”
I rasp then clear my throat.

But I’m not fine and I’m not sure I ever will
be. How long does it take for a broken heart to heal? One week? One
month?

The phone rings. Mom stares at me, concerned
for another second then leaves my room.

I fall back on my bed. Dust particles float
in the air like shimmering specs of glitter. I feel like a dust
particle. I’m floating in nothingness, not sure where I’m going to
land or if I’m going to land at all. Mom left my door open and I
can hear her yapping all the way down the hall. I was going to ask
her if she’d take me to the mall to look for a homecoming dress,
but I don’t think I need one anymore.

Mom appears in my doorway and props herself
up against the frame. I sit up on my elbows and examine the haunted
look on her face. “What is it?”

“That was Gloria Halston on the phone,” she
says mechanically. “Katie never came home last night.”

“And why did Gloria feel the need to call
you?”

“She wanted to know if you’d seen Katie.”

“I saw her last night at Adam’s party.”

“Did she say anything to you?”

I think about the conversation Katie and I
had. There weren’t any important details in it. “Not really.” I
stand. “Look, Mom. I wouldn’t worry about it. She probably hooked
up with a townie in a motel room or something.”

“Gloria said it’s not like her to just not
come home or not call.”

I roll my eyes as I walk to my closet.
Thumbing through my faded jeans I throw Mom an empty glance. “Let’s
face it. She’s not me.”

Mom frowns. “This isn’t a joke, Ellory.
Something bad could have happened to her.”

“Seriously, Mom.” I remove and pair of jeans
and t-shirt. “I wouldn’t worry too much. She’ll probably be home by
the end of the day.”

“I don’t want you going out after dark the
rest of the weekend.”

I don’t object. I’m too broken inside to
function around people. I stop next to Mom in the doorway. “I’ll be
in the shower if you need me.” She plants a kiss on my cheek as I
turn the corner.

Hot water pelts against my skin like melted
hail on a humid summer day. I am tucked into a ball, chin to my
knees, sitting directly underneath the showerhead. Plunking
droplets hammer through the bathroom as some of the scorching fluid
misses my body and lands on the floor of the ceramic bathtub. I’m
thankful that cleaning yourself creates noise. I’m thankful for the
water because it’s drowning out the sound of sobs leaving my
throat. I wonder if it’s always like this. Like you’ve been holding
in your tears for so long that eventually you just can’t handle it
anymore and they all flood out at once. That’s how I feel now.
There are no more tears, but I still feel like I’m crying.

After I dry my hair and get dressed, I sit in
my backyard in the spot where Adam and I had our first kiss. I
picture that moment so clear and vividly. Then I stop. I have to
stop to thinking about the way his kiss felt, the way his touch
felt. I have stop thinking about him in general. I know if I don’t
it will eventually drive me crazy. I’m already half-way there.