Snare (Delirious book 1) (4 page)

However, the conversation is not the worst part about Fridays. It’s the walk toward the conversation which I fear the most. The room that is in its path. The room
she
is in.

Ashley.

My best friend.

We’re stuck in the same hospital, and yet I can’t even talk to her.

I shuffle slower and slower the closer I get to her room. My heartbeat picks up as we get near. Sweat trickles down my forehead. The same reaction each and every goddamn time. I can’t handle it, and yet I am forced to witness it again and again. Every Friday I have to pass her … and it’s never gentle.

The moment she spots me through her small, square window, I panic. A loud shriek makes me cover my ears. She moves as swiftly as a tiger jumping at their prey; that’s how fast she reaches the door. The banging makes my brain go haywire. I feel like I’m being attacked, even though she can’t reach me. There is a solid door between us and a thick wall, and yet I still feel vulnerable.

“Lillith, you bitch! Fucking liar! Tell them the fucking truth!” she screams.

“Settle down, Ashley!” the doctor accompanying me says to her.

“Fuck you!” she spits. “Lillith!” Her golden eyes return to me. They’re as violent as her temper. She bangs on the door, screeching loud. “Tell them! Tell them what they did to me! Tell them who it was, goddammit!”

Tears well up in my eyes. I wish I could help her. I wish I could reach through that door and tell her everything will be okay, and that I could hug her, but I can’t. I’m not the one who can ever make things better for her. They wronged her … I wronged her … and I can’t make it up to her. I can’t tell anyone anything … because I don’t know.

I swallow away the tears as the doctor pulls me away from the door. I was too close, wanting to help her. I feel so powerless. It’s like a knife slowly twisting its way into my heart. Ashley blames me for not telling anyone what happened to her. Nobody knows. Now they think she’s gone mad.

Nothing happened to her. That’s what they keep telling everyone anyway. Me? I’m not so sure what to believe anymore. I know some part of me believes her, even though everyone says she’s insane. She attacks everyone around her. There must’ve been something that has seriously gone wrong with her … if only I could remember what. If only I could … face it. They’ve spent the last few months trying to figure out what went down between the two of us, but nobody can get through this barrier I’ve put up for myself. Not even me.

I’m stone cold. A lifeless shell of the vibrant woman I used to be. Erased of memories, except for those of our vacation together and all that came before. Everything after I came home is a blur. She’s right. I’m a cold-hearted bitch. How could we have sunken so deep?

Accompanying song:
“And The World Was Gone” by Snow Ghosts

Costa Rica –
January 28
th
, 2013

Through my camera, I stare at the hot, muscled bodies of the guys to our right playing volleyball. I’m pretending to shoot pictures of this beautiful beach, but I’m way too distracted for that.

“What are you looking at?” Ashley sniggers.

I lower my camera and see her grinning. A blush appears on my cheeks. “What?”

“Checking them out, huh?”

“Nothing wrong with that.”

I close my camera and put it back into my bag, grabbing a bottle of sunscreen in its place. Smearing some sunscreen on my pale skin, I glance at the cute one. Ashley’s seen him, too, which is unfortunate, because it usually means we’ll have either a catfight or a playful bet over who gets the guy first. I smirk at her. “I saw him first.”

She lowers her shades. “My ass.”

I shove her aside, pushing her into the sand. “Hey!” She cups the sand and throws it at me.

“Bitch!” I laugh as I try to point the bottle of sunscreen at her and squirt it on her.

“Oh, fuck you!” She pushes me aside, and we roll through the sand, laughing. We look like a mess when we’re done, covered in sand and sunscreen, I feel like cookie dough baking in the sun.

As I get up, I throw my flowery hat on the towels and smile sneakily at her.

“What?” she says, tilting her head. “I’m not going to give in to your pouting and shit. I saw him first.”

“Tell you what … first one in the water wins.”

She gasps as I start running, and then she immediately follows me down the beach. We’re squealing like teen girls, and I love every minute of it. I feel young again, like I’m still in my teen years, and the world is still peaches and sunshine.

I jump in the water, splashing it on her as she wades behind me.

“Cheating bitch, I’ll get you one day. You can’t keep all those guys to yourself.”

“Oh, shoot, Ashley, and here I thought I could
,
” I smirk, and she throws water over me until I’m begging for mercy. I hate having water up my nose. Yuck.

“All right, all right, I give in. You can have the other one.”

“If I wanted that one, I’d be in his lap by now.”

“Slut,” I tease.

She pushes my head under water, just like she always does. People must think we’re weird for calling each other names all day long, but that’s just how we are. This is our friendship. No holds barred. Two twenty-four-year-olds acting like a pair of kids. You only live once, right?

I shove her away, looking back at the beach to see if those delicious guys are still there. That’s when I notice there’s a man in a suit walking away from my blanket.

“Hey!” I yell, running out of the water, leaving Ashley behind. I rush to my blanket, but I’m too late to catch him. He’s already disappeared behind a building on the other side of the street.

Frowning, I pick up my bag and check if my wallet and phone are still in there. Nothing’s missing, not even some change that was on the bottom. Instead, something extra is inside. A note.

Squinting, I struggle to read the scribbles.

Don’t pick up the phone.

Confused, I check the back, but nothing’s on there.

What in the hell?

“Hey,” Ashley huffs as she comes running toward me. Breathing loudly, she bends over to catch her breath. “Who was that? Did he steal something?”

“No … I have no idea, but he didn’t take anything,” I say as I turn around. “He left this, though.”

“Let me see.” She snatches the note from my hand before I can even agree. She makes a face. “Is this a joke?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Pfft, I bet it’s just some random dude trying to scare us, that’s all.”

“I don’t know …”

She raises an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you think this is serious?”

The sudden ringing noise of my phone makes my heart jump. My eyes widen. In shock, I stare at her. How is this possible?

“Wait. Maybe it’s him. He’s trying to play a prank on you.”

“How? I didn’t give him my phone number.”

“He could’ve gotten it from your phone. You don’t know how long he’s been going through your bag.”

“Why would anyone wanna do that?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know. You gonna pick it up or not?”

For some reason, I hesitate. Gazing at my phone, my stomach feels knotted. I don’t know why, but I feel like I should trust this note.

“Oh, c’mon, don’t be such a pussy.”

“I don’t think I should ignore the note. It was put in my bag for a reason, Ashley.”

“Seriously? You’re going to believe some random note from a creepy guy who touched your stuff?”

“And you don’t think it’s strange that he did that?”

“I do.” She sighs. “But I also think this is scary, and that man can’t be trusted. Your phone is ringing. It could be your mother, for crying out loud.”

The moment she mentions my mother, my heart sinks into my feet. I swallow. She’s right. If it is my mother, and I miss this call, I could miss something important. My mother never calls, unless …

“What could happen?” she asks.

I take a deep breath. “Right.” Picking up my phone, I steady my hands, which are shaking as I place it against my ear. “Hello?”

“Lillith Carrigan? We’ve been waiting for you to pick up.”

Accompanying song:
“Dream Is Collapsing” by Hans Zimmer

Summermount Psychiatric Hospital – April 12
th
, 2013

Numbed, I stare at the glass in front of me. The doctors sit behind it, observing me from a distance like some visitors in a zoo. It’s as cynical as it sounds. As if I’m the crazy one around here. They’re not the ones being locked in a room for people to observe and be asked silly questions.

My hands hang loosely between my legs as I hunch on the stool. I don’t like having to think about the vacation, but Doctor Bailey keeps asking about it.

“What happened next?” Doctor Bailey says.

“Nothing.”

“Of course, something did.”

“I can’t remember.”

“You don’t want to remember. And that’s okay.” His voice crackles through the microphone.

“Honestly, I just don’t want to talk to someone who’s behind a thick three-inch glass.”

“I’m sorry, Lillith, but that is just a safety precaution. You know this.”

“Am I that dangerous?”

“No, of course not.” He clears his throat. “But it’s for your safety as well.”

“Right.” I scratch my wrist, which has been growing redder these last few minutes.

“Anyway … How was your conversation with the police yesterday?”

“Thrilling, as always,” I say.

“Did you discuss anything new?”

“No, because they’re not interested in solving it.”

“Of course they are.”

“No, they’re not. They don’t listen to me.”

“I’m sure they’re just trying to get to the important facts.”

I sigh. Even the doctors don’t believe me when I say the police don’t seem interested in what I have to say.

“Let’s talk about something different, then,” the doctor says. “Are you feeling any better today?”

“Not since the last time I talked to you.”

“Have you thought about Sebastian a lot, lately?”

My ears perk up at the sound of his name. It still renders me silent when others speak about him. I’m not used to it. “Yes. Every day.” I reposition myself in my stool.

“All right. Am I right to assume you’ve been trying to cope with what happened by using Sebastian as a support mechanism?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” I sigh. Not these questions again.

“What I mean is that Sebastian is your way of getting in touch with your own feelings and emotions again. To open yourself up to your experiences.”

“If you say it like that, then yes.”

“And you know that you do this in your head.”