Not Meant To Be Broken Page 2

  I followed them at a safe distance, stroking Pumpkin’s soft fur all the while. It always managed to calm me. I slipped past Dad who held the door open for me, careful not to touch him. The hall of the building was narrow and dark, but at least it looked clean. The floor was dark brown wood with scratches all over it, and the bricked walls were painted in a sterile white.

  “Our apartment is on the fourth floor, so we should take the elevator,” Brian said, heading for metal doors at the end of the corridor. A beeping noise announced the arrival of the elevator and a moment later the doors slid open, revealing a small space with barely enough room for six people – or four people with two suitcases. Zach, Brian and Dad stepped into the elevator without hesitation. It looked so easy: set one foot in front of the other. But my throat was closing up at the sight of the crammed space. I hadn’t used an elevator since my hospital stay three years ago. It would be close to impossible not to touch someone. I tightened my hold on Pumpkin, causing my cat to let out a noise of protest.

  My feet seemed glued to the floor. Move, Amber. Move. I tried to force my body to move forward, to step into the elevator but my muscles refused to bulge. Until about two seconds ago, Brian, Dad and Zach had been too absorbed in their conversation to notice my hesitation, but now their attention shifted to me. The happiness on Dad's face evaporated and an expression of sadness took its place. I caught the look of hurt on Brian's face before he averted his gaze and stared at the ground.

  Zach was watching me with a deep frown; now he probably regretted having ever agreed to let me live in their apartment. And why wouldn’t he? I was a mess. I couldn’t believe I’d actually hoped this was the beginning of a new life. Tears welled up in my eyes but I forced them back. Guilt was a vice around my heart. I was a horrible person for hurting my father and brother like this. But I couldn't step into that elevator.

  I hated myself for my next words. “You can go ahead without me. There’s not enough room for all of us. I'll take the next elevator.” I stared at a spot on the wall. I could imagine the pained expression on Dad's face and the despair on Brian’s; I didn’t want to actually see them.

  Dad reached for the button to send the elevator up. A couple of years ago, he might have protested. The front door swung open and a few young men entered the hall and headed in my direction.

  I quickly stepped into the elevator, careful not to touch Dad, Brian or Zach, who stood immediately to my right. Zach shifted a few inches to give me more room but there were still only two inches between my shoulder and his arm. Dad jabbed the button with more force than necessary. The doors closed smoothly behind me and I pressed my back against them. The sense of being trapped washed over me. I focused with all my might on the pink suitcase in front of me, but Brian’s brown leather oxfords were in my peripheral vision. No matter where I looked there were shoes or legs or hands.

  I closed my eyes for an instant and buried my face in Pumpkin's soft fur, breathing in his familiar scent. The elevator began to move, too slowly.

  Too slow.

  Too slow.

  Too slow.

  My throat tightened, my heart pounding in my ears. The silence pressed in on me. How much longer? I couldn’t do this, couldn’t, couldn’t. I was startled out of my rising panic attack when Zach cleared his throat. My eyes peeled open and I peered up at him before settling for the safer sight of my suitcase again.

  “Your room has a clear view of the small park behind the house. You'll like it. If you’re lucky, you might even get to watch squirrels scurrying after joggers for food,” he said, his face lit up by a small smile. The dimples around his mouth gave him a boyish appearance and made me forget his intimidating frame for a moment. “I bet your cat will love the squirrels.”

  Pumpkin’s ears perked up as if he realized Zach was talking about him. I opened my mouth to say something when I noticed Dad and Brian watching me in worry as if they expected me to break down crying because Zach had spoken to me. My lips snapped shut. Instead of voicing my reply, I nodded and gave Zach what I hoped was a grateful look. The elevator halted; before the door had slid open completely, I squeezed through and stumbled into the hallway, sucking in a deep breath, relief surging through me at being free.

  There were four wooden doors on this floor, two on either side of the elevator. Brian walked past me, startling me. I managed to suppress the gasp rising into my mouth. I held myself close to the right side to give Zach and Dad room to pass me on the left side. Zach’s shoulders brushed the wall across from me as he passed by, carrying one of my suitcases as if it weighed nothing, and headed for Brian who had stopped in front of the last door; Zach was obviously trying to give me as much space as possible. Brian had definitely schooled him well. Heat rose into my head.

  How much had he told him?

  Brian unlocked the door and they entered the apartment. Dad turned his head, waiting in the doorway, and gave me an encouraging look before disappearing inside. Hesitantly, I walked into my new home. I stood in a spacious living room with two narrow but high windows. There was a huge flat-screen TV on one wall, surrounded by hundreds of DVDs and Playstation games. Bang & Olufsen loud speakers were attached to every corner of the room. There were two round beige love seats and a long black sofa facing the TV. A sleek glass table was positioned in front of the sofa. There was even a liquor cabinet with more bottles of whiskey, scotch, tequila and all other kinds of alcohol than I’d ever seen. The expensive furniture and the new wooden floor weren’t something I’d expected. How was Brian able to afford such a luxurious home? The walls were brick but painted in the same warm beige as the loveseats. Through the open door to my left I could see the kitchen; a corridor branched off the living room and led to more rooms.

  “Do you like it?” Zach asked as he set my suitcase down beside the sofa.

  Pumpkin wriggled in my arms. I finally shut the apartment door before I put him down. He strode around the room as if he owned the place, rubbing his chin against the edge of every piece of furniture in his reach.

  I gave Zach and Brian an apologizing look but they seemed more amused than angry about Pumpkin getting fur all over their sofa.

  “It's really nice,” I said.

  Zach grinned and gave Brian an I-told-you-so-look.

  “Do you want to see your room?” my brother asked, smiling hopefully.

  “That would be great.” I followed him into the long corridor. At the end of it was a window that filled the place with daylight. Five doors lined the walls.

  “This door leads to my room and that's Zach's room. In between is our shared bathroom,” Brian explained, pointing at the three doors on my left side. I tried not to show my worry at the thought of sharing a bathroom with them.

  “This is your room.” He pointed at the door across the corridor from his room.

  Brian pushed open the door and took a few steps back to give me enough space to enter the room without touching him. A smile spread on my face as I stepped into the room. A huge window flooded everything with light and a king-sized bed was pressed against the wall below it. A wide wardrobe took up most of the left side. There was a desk beside the bed and a sofa on the remaining wall. The walls were beige and the bed-linen was purple. Brian must have bought it for me. Something warm spread in my body at the thought. I walked toward the window and chanced a look at the park below. “It's beautiful,” I said, tilting my head slightly to give Brian a grateful smile.

  He shifted uncomfortably, still not moving from his spot in the doorway, my suitcases positioned next to his legs. Was he worried to scare me if he entered the room? “Can you put the suitcases on my bed?”

  Brian hesitated but then he reached down and dragged my suitcases toward the bed before positioning them on top. We stood so close to each other that he could have touched me if he'd reached out. I lifted my head and met his eyes. Eyes so full of worry. I drew in a shaky breath and reached out, touching his upper arm for only a second. “Thank you,” I said before pulling my arm back.
From the corner of my eye I saw Zach moving away from the doorway and out of view to give us privacy.

  Brian’s eyes widened in surprise and his face lit up with joy, more joy than such a simple touch should cause in anybody. It was my fault. I averted my gaze and stared out of the window.

  “Amber, Brian? I need to get back to Peterborough,” Dad shouted.

  I followed Brian back to the living room where Dad was waiting for us. Zach was nowhere to be seen. He probably thought we needed a family moment. If only he knew that we hadn't had a true family moment for three years. Now everything was just complicated and awkward. My fault, a small voice in my head taunted me.

  Dad took a step toward me, his arms lifting ever so slightly as if he was going to hug me before they dropped back to his sides. “Take good care of her, Brian,” Dad said in a strained voice.

  I swallowed.

  “Don't worry, Dad.” Brian pulled him into a tight embrace. I moved closer to them and accompanied Dad to the entrance door.

  “I’ll give you a moment to say goodbye,” Brian said, then he left in the direction of the kitchen. Pumpkin perched on the backrest of the loveseat, keen eye watching me.

  “I will be alright, Dad,” I told him, and like moments before with Brian, I reached out and touched Dad's arm ever so lightly. Again a smile and so much joy.

  It was killing me to know that I could bring them so much joy with such a simple gesture. With a last glance back at me, Dad disappeared in the elevator at the end of the hallway. I closed the door and turned around. I took a moment to let it sink in that I was really doing this, starting a new life, living in an apartment with Brian and his friend. Voices drifted over to me from the kitchen.

  For a moment I considered joining them but it would have been too much, too soon. I picked up Pumpkin, made my way back to my room and closed the door behind me, locking it.

  I imagined Brian's reaction to my caution and grimaced, but I felt safer that way. I plopped down on my bed as I watched Pumpkin discovering his surroundings. This was my new life.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Zachary

  After saying goodbye to Brian's dad, I disappeared into the kitchen, not wanting to invade their time of goodbye. I grabbed a coke from the fridge and sank down on a chair at the table. I brought the bottle to my lips and took a long gulp. My mind drifted back to the last half hour, the fear and worry on Amber's face as she stood in the elevator with us. She’d looked like a trapped animal. I'd tried to set her at ease with some conversation and I could have sworn that it had worked. Brian wasn't kidding when he’d described her condition. Maybe some normalcy would do her good. Brian and his dad probably hadn’t treated her like a normal person since that incident. Maybe it would help her to be treated like a woman and not a helpless, fragile porcelain doll.

  The door creaked and I looked up to see Brian sitting down on the chair across from me, his expression strained. He hung his head and rubbed his temples, his mouth set in a thin line. I nudged his forehead with the cold bottle and grinned at him encouragingly. He just frowned at me. “Don't look so worried, Brian. Everything went well so far.”

  Brian shook his head. “Haven't you seen what happened in the elevator? She didn’t want to step inside because of us.”

  I put down the bottle and let out a sigh. “She'll get used to it, Brian. This is all new for her.”

  Brian sighed. “I hope you're right, Zach.”

  I punched him lightly against the shoulder, grinning. “I'm always right, dude.”

  Brian snorted, his expression brightening. “You wish.”

  I smiled to myself, lifting the bottle to my lips for another gulp. And I truly hoped that I was right. For Brian's and Amber's sake.

  Amber

  Laughter.

  There is their laughter.

  And sobs. My sobs.

  And moans. Their moans. And grunts. Their grunts.

  They ring in my head.

  And the smells.

  Sweat. The stench of their sweat. Disgusting.

  And blood. So much blood. Acid, sweet in my nose and sticky on my skin. Sickening.

  Stale cigarette smoke and beer. Their clothes smell of it. And their bodies. Revolting.

  And then another smell. Everywhere. Something I've never smelt before. Indescribable. Disgusting. Revolting. Burnt into my mind. This smell. How it sticks to my skin just like the blood but so much worse.

  And their faces. Taunting. Leering. Lusting.

  Frightening. Menacing. Pitiless.

  The last faces I'll ever see. Die. I will die. They tell me so.

  And I want to. Plead them even. Plead them to kill me, to end this.

  Death is better. Liberating.

  So much pain. Unbearable.

  Agony. Hot, burning, tearing, ripping. Pure agony.

  And the feel of them. On my skin. Their hands. Rough and cruel.

  Their bodies. On top of me. Crushing. Unrelenting.

  And the pain. So much pain. Too much.

  A scream tears itself from the depth of my body and then I can't stop.

  I scream and scream. But all I hear is their laughter, their taunts, their grunts...

  Blinding light penetrated my eyelids and tore me from the confines of my nightmare. Only it wasn’t just a simple nightmare, a simple phantasm of my mind. No, those were my memories. Burnt into my mind.

  Forever.

  Would it ever stop? Would they ever leave me alone? Would this day ever stop haunting my dreams? Would there ever be a night without nightmares; a night that didn’t let me relive the horrors of that day?

  No.

  The answer was immediate, and as true as it was frightening. Not in all those years had they gone away, and they never would.

  Never.

  I opened my eyes and blinked a few times to clear my vision until my eyes found the reason for the end of my nightmare. Brian stood in the doorway, his hand on the light switch and his horrified eyes on me. Behind him towered Zach, his horror matching that of my brother. I must have woken them with my screaming.

  My throat felt sore and my body was slick with sweat. Not their sweat, I reminded myself and shuddered as the memorized stench filled my nose. Pumpkin was curled up at the end of my bed. He had gotten used to my nightmares and didn’t hide under the bed anymore.

  “Amber?” Brian whispered and took a hesitant step toward me. He wanted to console me, maybe even hug me. It was written all over his face.

  I stared down at the blankets covering my body. Shame rushed through me. “I'm sorry I woke you.”

  “Don't worry,” Zach said quickly.

  “You were talking in your sleep and then you started screaming,” Brian said in a very quiet voice.

  I talked in my sleep?

  My stomach twisted. God, what had I said? The thought that I might have revealed more about what happened made me sick. I lifted my gaze. “I...I talked?”

  Brian grimaced before his expression turned apologetic. “Not much.”

  Not much? I could barely breathe. I hated to lose control and that was exactly what happened whenever I fell asleep. I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “What...what did I say?” I stared at Brian pleadingly. He hesitated and chanced a look at Zachary who was still standing behind him.

  “You...you didn’t say much.” Brian turned his back to me. This was too much for him. He wasn’t used to dealing with this, with me.

  “Please, I need to know,” I whisper.

  Brian's shoulders started shaking. Was he crying? I clutched the blankets, needing something to hold on to. Zach stared at my brother for several moments before his eyes met mine. There was sadness in them, but no pity, and I was grateful for that. “You mumble, so I couldn't make out everything. But you said. 'Stop, please stop. Please don't...” He stopped and took a deep breath through his nose, his nostrils flaring. He looks as if it cost him all his willpower to say the next words. “Please, it hurts.”

  I nodded. “Thanks, Zachary,�
� I choked out. I felt sick; it was only a matter of minutes before I'd throw up.

  “Night, Amber,” Brian said in a strained whisper. He closed my door and I was alone.

  I sat on my bed until I was certain that Zach and Brian had returned to their rooms and I wouldn't meet them in the corridor. My legs shook as I stood and it took all my strength to grab a bathrobe and walk out of my room. It was dark in the corridor. Light spilled out from beneath the doors to the other two bedrooms.

  The darkness threatened to swallow me. I tiptoed toward the bathroom and closed the door behind me as soon as I'd entered. I switched the light on, stumbled toward the toilette bowl and threw up. I gripped the seat tightly as dizziness flooded my mind. I sunk to my knees and leaned my head against the edge of the bathtub. My eyes closed on their own accord while I drew in quick shallow breaths through my nose. I felt so drained, and weak, and old, and lifeless.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Zachary

  The bowl with cereal in front of me on the table sat untouched. I wasn’t hungry. Probably for the first time in my life the mere sight of food was making me sick.

  Last night. Those screams and the look in Amber's eyes. I pushed the bowl away, not caring that milk spilled over.

  Fuck, I couldn’t forget those terrified eyes.

  I didn’t sleep more than two hours after that. And my sleep was far from sound. I was haunted by nightmares, filled with her screams, not that my dreams were even close to being as horrible as hers.

  It was nearly ten. Brian hadn't even left his room yet, though he was an early riser. I'd heard movement in his room but he didn’t come out. Maybe he was hiding. Maybe he was afraid to face his sister after last night. I'd kick his ass if that was the case.

  I ran a hand through my hair. This was probably the first time Brian missed a day in law school. My attendance record was far less perfect.