I see a girl point at me. “Shhhh...look,” she says.
Each and every person turns their head slowly towards me. The only sound now is the crackle from the fire. I’m sure I look absolutely crazy. My eyes are probably red and swollen, and my long stringy hair is sticking to my clammy skin. My t-shirt is damp from sweat and clinging to me. My skirt is torn from tripping over branches. I’m shaking and my teeth are chattering. I just stand there as they all stare at me as if I’m a figment of their imagination.
The sound of a girl’s laughter breaks the silence.
“Oh my God, what the hell are you wearing?”
It’s her. His girl.
“Candice.” I hear his voice and then see him as he removes her from his lap and stands.
“What? Who is she? Do you know her?” Candice asks as if she’s disgusted by the thought.
He approaches me slowly.
“Amy?”
“Please help me,” I whisper.
CHAPTER 6
Dillon
Fuck! What the hell happened to this girl? I can tell she’s not quite coherent. Her eyes are empty. She looks like she could be in shock. When I reach for her hand, she flinches and takes a step away from me. She just stares at the ground.
“I won’t hurt you.” I stand in front of her blocking her from all of the prying eyes. “Will you follow me into the house? You can warm up and I’ll help you. Is that okay?” I ask her softly.
She nods her head and then glances at the crowd of people whispering and staring at her over my shoulder.
“Party’s over guys! If you need to stay, the guest house is open!” I yell over my shoulder.
“Dillon…,” Candice whines.
“Not now Candice.” She only thinks of herself. It pisses me off.
“Follow me?” Instead of touching her, I just gesture towards the house with my hand.
She nods her head again and follows me into the house. The first thing I want to do is call the police, but I’m not sure what exactly is going on. I think about calling my sister because she’s a nurse. My mind is racing. I just want to comfort her but I’m not sure how.
We enter the house and she stands there shaking uncontrollably. Her eyes dart around the house like someone is going to jump out at her.
“Amy? No one’s going to hurt you anymore. You’re okay.” I get as close as I can to her without scaring her and search her face, waiting for her to talk to me.
She finally looks at me. Tears flood her eyes.
“My mother……my mother is sick. She hasn’t taken her medicine for a long time and she’s not right. She was…..she wanted me to take her pills with her…too many of them…so we could go away,” she says while wiping at her endless stream of tears.
“Oh God.” I run my hands back and forth through my hair. It’s something I do when I’m stressed. I know what she’s trying to say. I can see the horror in her eyes. “Amy, I need to call the police.”
“I’m afraid he’ll find me.”
“Who?”
“The skinny man in the suit.”
“The…..what….where is he?”
“He’s coming back for me,” she says in the most unnerving voice while staring up at me with her swollen, red eyes.
What the fuck! I run my hands through my hair again and start pacing in circles. I have to call the police.
“Amy, listen to me, okay?” I try to calm down so she doesn’t think I’m angry at her. I don’t want to scare her. “I’m going to help you but I need to call the police.”
She nods again. I grab the phone and call 911. I explain the situation and they assure me they are sending someone out immediately to check the house.
After I hang up, I lead Amy upstairs to Laney’s room and find her some clothes to change into and a blanket to wrap herself in. I can tell she’s going through the motions, but isn’t quite sure what’s going on. I wait outside the door for about ten minutes and then knock. She doesn’t answer. I crack the door open and poke my head in. She’s dressed in Laney’s t-shirt that just hangs from her thin frame and shorts that look like they are barely hanging on to her hips. She’s running her finger over the bindings of the books Laney has stacked on her shelves. The room hasn’t changed since Laney left. It’s painted purple with posters of Maroon 5 all over the walls. She still has her girly makeup shit and perfumes all over the dressers. She has shelves of stuffed animals and tons of books.
“You like to read?” I ask her as I walk into the room. I remember from our game that she likes to read and write.
She nods her head.
“Laney won’t mind. You can borrow one if you want.”