Snared(56)

“You have to stop freaking out then,” I said. “You’ll make families afraid of you.”

Tears welled up in his eyes. I needed April. I willed her to show up at the doorway. “I-I can’t.”

“You can’t?”

He shook his head as two tears streaked down his freckled face. “I don’t mean to. Just—something happens inside me.”

It was like I was on the outside of my body, watching as I picked up the chair and hurtled it at my teacher. Words I’d never said came from my mouth. I saw the other children staring at me in fear, cowering together as I destroyed everything in my path. What was I doing? Why was I doing it?

“Robbie, when you feel like that, I need you to find something that calms you. Do you have something that calms you?”

He reached over and picked up a little square that looked like a piece of paper. “This. But it doesn’t always work. Sometimes I’m too upset for it to matter.”

He turned the little square toward me, and that’s when I realized what it was. It was the picture that had started the meltdown weeks ago, the one he carried with him everywhere and didn’t let anyone see. He was going to show it . . . to me.

The picture seemed like it had been through the washing machine a few times and was so faded and cracked I could hardly make it out. It was Robbie; that was for sure. He looked to be a few years old and was grinning from ear to ear, his arms wrapped around the woman’s neck. My eyes shifted to the woman holding him, and the breath left my lungs in a whoosh. The room spun as my brain registered what my heart couldn’t seem to understand. There was no way. It wasn’t her. No fucking way. My head was playing tricks on me. I closed my eyes and then reopened them, but the image was still the same. It was her. I hadn’t seen her in ten years, but that didn’t matter.

Visions of her sinking on top of me, riding me with reckless abandon flashed in my memory. Her long, dark hair had fallen in front of her face, brushing my chest as she moaned my name. I’d never seen her again after that morning, but there was no doubt it was her in this picture. I’d studied her so often when we worked together that I’d know her face anywhere.

Robbie watched me with both curiosity and slight alarm. I studied him—really studied him. His dark hair and large dark eyes. The smattering of freckles across his face. The way his head ran away with him and he couldn’t control it . . . he was nine years old.

“W-was your mom’s name Robyn?”

Robbie smiled. “Yes! How did you know that?”

I stood, the picture clutched in my fingers. The room spun, and the voices came from everywhere at once, making me squeeze my eyes closed against them. No. No. I barely registered his small voice somewhere around me, calling my name.

This wasn’t happening to me. It wasn’t true. This was my brain’s way of fucking with me. I’d wake up from this idiotic nightmare in a few seconds and be next to April, her hand in mine.

April. Where was she? My eyes squeezed shut, and my chest heaved. I felt myself slipping deeper and deeper, my mind losing the battle. I tapped my fingers and the photo fell to the floor. My head disconnected, and my eyes flung open, taking in Robbie’s scared expression. I had to get out of here.

I ran from the room, flinging the door back so hard I heard it crack and bounce back from the wall. I made my way through the living room, not seeing anything. Sweat dripped from my face, and my fists clenched at my sides. My lungs tingled with the lack of oxygen circulating through my blood. I knew there were people in the room, but I couldn’t register anything about them. Everything was a blur.

I was a fucking curse. She’d been right all along. I’d fucked up, and now someone else’s life had been affected because of me. I should’ve died with my dad all those years ago. My life wasn’t worth anything. I had to take care of this for once and for all. No one else would suffer because of me.

The bright sunlight flooded my eyes as I ran out the front door. I heard noise coming from behind me, but I couldn’t stop now. The voices were screaming in my head, and it was time to quiet them once and for all. My existence on this earth was a mistake, and I was nothing but poison to everything I touched.

I reached the busy street and stood, my arms outstretched, in the middle of oncoming traffic. The familiar feeling of floating above myself came over me, and I watched from above, the sounds of cars honking and people yelling muted like I’d hit the button to silence them. My curses and shouts were just echoes in my ears. I wanted the fuck out of here.

Beau Anderson ceased to exist.

The empty shell of him was unraveling and would never come back.