Leaning against the door, I closed my eyes, shaking with regret.
"Where have you been?" a quiet voice asked from the living room, startling me.
Jumping slightly, I turned to face Donna who was sitting on her sofa. The sofa she had bought four years ago to replace the one I had defiled. "I was at a funeral," I answered, wondering about her sudden interest. "A student at my school committed suicide," I added, waiting for her judgment.
"Another one?" she asked with her lip curling up slightly in disdain.
"Yes," I answered.
"Ignorance," she said with disgust.
"No, just forsaken," I said, meeting her eyes in challenge. "Sometimes when you have no one you can count on, you turn to the only viable option."
"Forsaken? So, you've considered this?" she asked with sarcasm lacing her every word. "Haven't you ruined enough lives?" she asked, casting her judgment without waiting for me to admit anything.
"I haven't done anything wrong," I lied.
"Right. I've heard those lies before. ‘I didn't mean to do it. I didn't think it would go so far,’" she said, mimicking my arguments from long ago. “I didn't clean up your mess so you could spend eternity in hell," she said, standing up to leave the room.
"I never asked you to clean up my mess, and aren't I going to hell anyway?" I mocked, sick of all the blame she had placed on my shoulders over the years. I was sick of paying for everyone's sins. Shouldering the blame for James was all I could handle at the moment.
"You may not have uttered the words, but your actions gave me no choice. You forced me to compromise everything I believe in. I will never forgive you for that," she said, stalking from the room.
Everything inside me deflated like a balloon that had been popped. No matter how hard I tried, I would never be able to leave the past behind. Despair began its familiar journey up my body until I was practically choking on it. My sins seemed to saturate the house, making it bear down on me. Tears that I had been unable to shed over the last few days finally came as if a dam inside me had burst. Hot tears burned their way down my cheeks. I needed to get away, to escape the oppressiveness that was threatening to bury me alive. I couldn't do this any longer. Why did living have to be so hard? Death beckoned me. It would be so easy.
Choking on broken sobs, I did the only thing I could.
Chapter twenty two
Dean picked up his cell on the first ring. Unable to talk, all I could do was sob into the phone. "Madison, are you hurt?" he asked frantically as I heard his jeep start up over the phone.
I wanted to answer him, but no words came out as I continued to cry. Tears I was unable to shed for four years ran unchecked down my cheeks as I disconnected the call. I knew he was on his way. I knew, despite my earlier confession, he would come. He was coming to save me. It was ironic since that was the biggest lie I had told him, but just like everything else, he could see right through me. I'd claimed I didn't need to be saved, but in reality, I did.
Several minutes later, his jeep screeched to a stop beside me. Without saying a word, he scooped me up into his arms and carried me to his vehicle. He opened my door and gently sat me inside and closed the door behind me. I knew I should tell him I was okay. I knew I needed to stop crying, to push the emotions back where they belonged, but they no longer fit in the place I had stored them. Dean kept his hand on my knee as he drove, offering the only comfort he could. Eventually, the tears dried up and I drifted off to sleep in exhaustion.
I jerked awake when the vehicle finally stopped. Trying to peer through the sandpaper my eyeballs had become, I finally was able to make out the two-story house in front of me. He'd brought me to his parents.
Dean leaped from the vehicle, coming to my side to help me out. Without saying a word, he pulled me into his arms, hugging me tightly to his chest. For the first time ever, I truly embraced him back, clinging to him as a new wave of tears poured down my cheeks. I soaked in his comfort. After a moment, he stepped back and tucked my hair behind my ears before placing a gentle kiss on my cheek.
"I called my mom," he said quietly, leading me toward the house as the front door opened.
Sarah embraced me without a qualm. Not minding that I was on her doorstep in the middle of the night, interrupting her weekend.
"I put on some tea," she said to Dean as she led me into the house. "I thought we could talk in the kitchen," she added, looking at me.
I nodded. I knew from the moment I called Dean that I wouldn't keep my secrets any longer. I was so sick of being a closed vault.
Sarah bustled around the kitchen, preparing the tea. Dean held my hand while I studied the daisies in the center of the table. I couldn't help wondering if he would continue being so supportive once he knew the rest of my secrets.
The tea kettle whistled a few minutes later and Sarah filled three cups for us. I wasn’t much of a tea drinker, but at the moment, it seemed oddly comforting. Once our tea was doctored up to our individual preferences, and there was nothing else to do but listen, they turned to me, waiting.
I took a deep breath and finally began talking. They listened intently as I explained my life as a child, how I was shuttled from regular daycare in the morning to church daycare in the evening, each and every day. I told them how I went to great lengths to get my parents’ attention. They smiled over my Barbie-killer phase and every other one of my exploits up until junior high. Then it became tougher to talk. The easy flow of words stalled out as I contemplated how I could possibly move on. Their looks of compassion were sure to change, and then I would be truly alone.
"Madison, it's only normal for you to seek attention. You had absentee parents at their worst, they were there, but they weren't really there. I'm sure as you got older and dealt with changing from a child into a young adult, your need for attention became more acute," Sarah said, sensing my struggle.
That was putting it mildly. Nodding, I made a point to not look at Dean. I was afraid I would lose my nerve. "The year I turned twelve, I began to develop," I said, flushing slightly, but keeping my eyes only on Sarah. "I suddenly no longer looked like a child, as in, almost overnight. I developed curves and my face lost any baby fat it had carried. I immediately noticed a change in people. Guys twice my age looked at me when I walked by, and girls glared at me with envy. I liked the attention I was getting. I began to dress to show off my assets. I dyed my hair black, and pierced my eyebrow and tongue. I knew the changes made me look older, more exotic and wild. I liked it and so did guys. Suddenly, I was getting asked out and invited to high school parties. I should have been happy. I was finally getting the attention I craved," I said in a shaky voice.
"But it wasn't the attention of your parents," Sarah said kindly.