The Nememiah Chronicles Collection

Chapter 12

“I"ve spent the past two years trying to escape from my past,” I began. “Events happened which depressed me and I"ve spent a long time unable to see a viable reason to continue living.” I paused for a couple of seconds, wondering if I could admit the truth to him about my intentions, wondering how he would react. Despite my shame, I knew I should own up. “You were right - I"ve tried to kill myself any number of times, but I"ve failed every time.”

“For which I will be eternally grateful,” Lucas responded swiftly.

I managed a weak smile. “You asked me about my family, and I told you I had no-one. That"s true, but it"s only in the past two years that I"ve been alone.” Memories washed over me and tears brimmed against my eyelashes.

“Charlotte, you don"t have to do this. If it causes you such intense pain, we don"t have to discuss it,” Lucas offered, discomfort visible in his expression. “It was wrong of me to press you on the subject.”

“It"s only fair that I tell you, you"ve been honest with me.”

“I mean it, Charlotte,” he pointed out grimly. “I won"t pressure you again; I won"t bring up the subject. I promised I would do nothing to hurt you, and I intend to keep my word.”

“I need to tell you, Lucas.” Working hard to centre myself, I reached out to Lucas – the first time I"d done so. Keeping my movements slow and deliberate, I stroked his cheek and he placing his hand over mine, nuzzling against my palm. I shut my eyes, thinking it would be easier to explain when I couldn"t see him studying me with so much compassion.

“Two years ago, my life was fairly ordinary. Mom was my best friend; she and Dad split up when I was two, and I"ve never seen my father since - I don"t even know what he looks like. It didn"t matter though, because Mom was always available and we were happy together. Mom and Dad were young when they got married, Mom was just seventeen when I was born, and I think my Dad was nineteen. I learned later, that Dad freaked out after I arrived and started drinking heavily, he couldn"t cope with the responsibility of having a wife and kid, so he dumped us and left for who-knows-where. Mom and I never heard from him again. When I was fourteen, Mom met Pete Hurst.” The trembling started up when I voiced his name aloud, and Lucas tightened his grip on my hand.

Biting my lip nervously, I forged on, needing to give Lucas the entire account before I lost my courage. “Mom was lonely, it had been me and her for twelve years and I couldn"t blame her for falling for a guy, she was only thirty one and had years ahead of her. I couldn"t understand what she saw in him, but I accepted it because she loved him.” I shrugged, shaking my head at the memory. “If I"d known how bad things could get, I would have made her see how wrong he was for her, for us.”

him“You couldn"t have known, you were only a child,” Lucas protested.

“I was only a child, but I should have trusted my instincts,” I muttered fiercely. “There was something about him, the way he treated Mom, his arrogance,” I tugged at my lower lip with my teeth, wishing I could turn back time. “I knew there was something about him which I didn"t like, but I couldn"t put a finger on it.”

“You can"t blame yourself, Charlotte.”

“Pete moved in and a couple of months later, Mom fell pregnant. We were so excited and I couldn"t wait to have a new little brother or sister. Mom had a little girl and they called her Alexis. Even while Mom was pregnant, her relationship with Pete began to deteriorate; he drank heavily and got abusive. Mom got the crap beaten out of her, more than once. She denied it was happening, tried to convince me she"d fallen over, or run into a door; but I knew the truth. Even though I was only fourteen or fifteen, I could see the signs, heard him yelling abuse at her.” The muscle in Lucas"s jaw tensed beneath my fingers. Uncertain if it was a reaction to my story, or my close proximity, I tried to draw away from his face. He tightened his grip, keeping my hand pressed to his smooth cheek.

“It"s okay, Charlotte,” he murmured quietly, “I like your touch.”

I closed my eyes again; I didn"t want to see his reaction – or worse – see pity in his eyes. “Alexis was eighteen months old when Mom gave birth to my second sister, Georgia. They were the cutest little girls and I loved them both dearly. I couldn"t wait for them to grow up a little, so I could dress them up and introduce them to make-up and dolls. I loved playing with them, helping to care for them after school and on weekends. As time went on and Pete"s abuse escalated, I became a surrogate mother to them because Mom found it difficult to cope. Half the time she was nursing one injury or another, that he"d inflicted.” The memories washed over me like a tidal wave; the rage and fear I"d felt in those times, the helplessness of a situation out of my control. It was painful to remember, and yet sharing it was surprisingly cathartic. I"d hidden the memories for so long, kept them shut away – but now I allowed myself to remember my sisters, their innocence, and their sweet little faces. Pain stabbed into my chest like a knife, but I found I wanted to tell someone, to unburden myself of the guilt that had overwhelmed me for such a long time.

Lucas patiently waited for me to continue, he offered no comments, and asked no questions. He allowed me to decide my own pace, to choose how much I was willing to share. “Pete was drunk a lot, controlling of Mom, jealous of anyone she had contact with and continuously angry. A few months after Georgia was born, Mom discovered she was pregnant again.” Tears brimmed against my eyelashes. “It wasn"t a happy pregnancy, she never admitted it, but I"m convinced Pete forced himself on her – by then they were barely on speaking terms. I know the pregnancy was an accident, Mom didn"t want another baby – who would, given the circumstances?” I sighed heavily, wishing again that I"d handled things differently, convinced her to leave. “In the meantime, I graduated from high school. I did okay at school, despite a miserable home life and I was accepted at a couple of colleges. But I couldn"t leave Mom, not when she was pregnant and would be alone with him.” I gritted my teeth as I recalled the memory. “So I stayed in South Carolina, got a job at one of the local department stores. I figured I"d go to college later on; I was only eighteen, there was plenty of time. I deferred, thinking I would find a way to get rid of Pete; that things would get better. I was a fool,” I admitted, shaking my head sadly. “Mom had the baby in September; he was the sweetest little thing, the brother I"d longed for. They named him Henry, and he had green eyes and dark curly hair, just like Mom and me.”

himI stopped abruptly – the wave of memories was swamping my battered soul, like a tsunami crashing into shore, destroying everything in its path. The tears I"d suppressed for so many months could be held back no longer and I sobbed brokenly.

Lucas captured my face between his hands and pressed a kiss against my forehead. “It"s alright, Charlotte. Stop now. Don"t relive this when it causes you such intense pain. I can imagine what happened; don"t hurt yourself more, by continuing.”

“I need to,” I sobbed brokenly, gripping his shoulders, holding on to something tangible. “I want you to understand why I was so desperate to die.”

He sat on the side of the bed and held me against his chest while I cried. I felt other cool hands gripping my shoulder, and a sense of tranquility began to seep into my skin where the hands touched, giving the impression that I was steadily being covered by a warm blanket. Glancing up, I discovered Striker standing at my side, his expression somber and beside him, a woman. She smiled softly, her eyes focused on mine and I was captivated by the unusually bright green of her eyes. I would have suspected she wore colored contacts, but bronze shards glowed and shifted within them. Both Striker and the woman were holding their fingers against my skin, their faces filled with concentration.

“Do you feel better?” Marianne was standing at the end of the bed, watching me sympathetically. “Striker and Acenith have the ability to calm people"s emotions. They want to help.”

My head did seem calmer and I nodded, capable of thinking clearly again. Lucas smiled compassionately, still holding me in his arms. “I meant what I said, Charlotte. You don"t have to explain anything to us.”

It took a second or two to find my voice again. “I want you to know.” I sniffled, drawing a shallow breath before I continued. “The situation with Mom and Pete deteriorated rapidly after Henry"s birth. The violence escalated, Pete"s temper worsened. I tried to get Mom to leave, but she wouldn"t listen, wouldn"t stop believing it was somehow her fault. I didn"t understand at the time, but in hindsight, I realize she was suffering from Battered Wives Syndrome. She honestly believed she deserved everything he did to her, thought she was responsible for his angry rages.” I spat the last words out and Marianne nodded imperceptibly to Striker and Acenith. The blanket of calm immediately grew heavier and warmer, settling my shattered nerves to a tolerable level.

she“I was eighteen – I didn"t understand the complexities of what was going on. All I knew was that I couldn"t live there any longer; I didn"t want to stay and watch him destroy her. A week before Christmas, Mom and I had a massive argument – I told her she needed to leave him and she refused. I couldn"t take it any longer, couldn"t deal with the constant anxiety, the fights, the beatings. I did the only thing I could think of doing at the time.” I gulped down air, ignoring the searing pain in my chest. “I walked out.”

Images clarified behind my closed eyelids and I could see what happened, as clearly, as if it was occurring as I spoke. “I packed my gear and left Mom alone with the babies and him. I didn"t want to, but I couldn"t stand it any longer, I couldn"t stay and watch her destroying her life. I drove down to Georgia and spent a few days sleeping in my car, trying to figure out a way to get Mom to see sense and leave him. It only took a couple of days to decide I needed to go back. I couldn"t understand why Mom wouldn"t leave, but I knew she couldn"t survive without my help.”

My heart thumped and I tried to control my breathing, but it grew more erratic as I bordered on hyperventilating. “I drove home and went into the house, looking for Mom and the babies. It was so quiet, unnaturally silent. I walked down the hall into Mom"s bedroom—” It became difficult to speak, recalling the event was almost like reliving it, all over again. “Mom was lying on the bed. Covered in blood – I"ve never seen so much blood – it was everywhere.” Covering my eyes with my hands, I tried to escape the image I"d suppressed for so long. “I found out later, he"d stabbed her forty eight times.”

everywhere“Oh my God,” Marianne breathed weakly. She slumped heavily on the edge of the bed, rubbing my leg beneath the blanket.

Tears fell in earnest and I breathed heavily, ignoring the wracking pain as I continued more calmly, almost mechanically. “I thought he"d taken the babies, but I had to check to be certain.” Drawing a shuddering lungful of air, I was aware that despite Striker and Acenith"s strange ability, my descent into misery was spiraling out of control. “I found Alexis and Georgia in their beds, they were both dead, he"d slit their throats. The sheets were soaked in blood… such a lot of blood. I think they were asleep when he did it – I don"t know for sure, but I have to hope they were. And little Henry – he was only twelve weeks old – I thought he was still alive, he was lying so peacefully in his crib and there was no blood. Pete hadn"t stabbed him and I prayed so hard for him to be okay.” I shuddered. “Until I touched him, and his little face was so cold. The police told me later that Pete had smothered him with a pillow.”

Staring up at the ceiling, agony washed over me in ever-increasing waves. I saw every aspect of those rooms in my mind, seeing everything, as plainly, as if I stood in them again. Lucas rubbed my arm in a soothing gesture, but I couldn"t look at him, couldn"t bear to see my agony reflected in his eyes.

“I didn"t know what to do next; I guess I was in shock, because I just sat on the stoop until one of our neighbors came over to see what was wrong. She called the police and I was taken to the precinct to make a statement. Not that it was much help; I couldn"t string a worthwhile sentence together. I just sat in the interview room, trying to comprehend the enormity of what he"d done. They located him, and he told the police I"d murdered them. He said Mom and I had been fighting a lot lately, that I"d grown violent and regularly lost my temper. Told them some bullshit, about how I"d always been unstable and he"d been worried about bruises he"d seen on Mom and thought I"d hurt her in the past—”

him,I"dThe grip around my shoulders tightened painfully and I looked at Lucas, alarmed by the sheer fury in his expression. I carried on hurriedly. “It turns out Pete was a bigger fool than even I"d imagined. The police questioned me, obviously, they had to, once the accusation had been made – but the forensic evidence was already being collected and tested. And it all led directly back to Pete. I knew he was stupid, but he hadn"t attempted to hide his tracks at all. The police could only speculate, because Pete never did give his reasons, but they think after Mom and I fought, Mom finally got up the courage to tell him she was leaving. Pete was more than likely drunk, and lost his temper, killing them, rather than let Mom leave.”

Marianne rubbed her hand across my leg, the touch soothing. “I"m so very sorry, Charlotte. What a horrifying nightmare for you to endure.”

“What. Happened. To. Him?” Lucas breathed angrily. His eyes were filled with such intense fury; I could only imagine the murderous thoughts flowing through his mind.

The soothing blanket Striker and Acenith were somehow creating shifted and warmed again, allowing me to speak calmly. “He"d been released whilst they questioned me, but when the forensic evidence confirmed his guilt, the police put out a warrant to arrest him on sight. I had the advantage in that regard. I already knew where he hung out, his favorite local haunts. I found him at one of the local bars he loved so much, perched on a barstool and clearly smug because he"d gotten away with murdering my family. Or so he thought.” Despite their best efforts, it was becoming evident that Striker and Acenith were struggling to keep my emotions composed. The effort they were making was apparent in their faces, almost as if they were drawing my anger, my sorrow and desolation into their own bodies. They remained focused on me, but pain was visible in their eyes as they battled to soothe me.

“I had Pete"s gun, one he kept in a locked box in his bedroom. He didn"t know I"d learned the combination, knew how to get into the gun and access the ammunition he had supposedly secured. I went to the bar, walked straight up to him, and shot him. Six times. Two bullets in his chest, and four in his head. I wanted him dead before he hit the floor.” I ground my teeth together, remembering the desperate rage I"d suffered, the grim satisfaction that had followed the shooting, knowing I"d killed the man who"d taken everything from me.

“I thought I"d go to jail, I deserved to go to jail, for not protecting Mom and my siblings when they needed me most. I wanted to be sent to jail, find someone to provoke into killing me. I needed to end the misery; I didn"t want to go on.” I took another deep breath and didn"t care when the pain ripped through my broken ribs. I wished my chest would collapse in on itself, and let me escape the wretchedness that smothered me so completely.

“There was one thing I didn"t allow for. The judge took into consideration the circumstances leading me to murder him. "Justifiable Homicide" – that"s what they call it. I received a two year suspended jail sentence and a good behavior bond for five years. The judge and my attorney thought they were doing me a favor – they couldn"t see that I didn"t want to live.”

wantLeaning back against the pillow, I squeezed my eyes shut.

“We can"t control this for much longer,” Striker growled, his voice strained. “Marianne, go and find out if Ben"s back.”

Marianne patted my leg and disappeared, her movements barely visible to the human eye as she flashed from the room.

I looked up at Lucas, biting my lip before I spoke again. “So now you know. Why I didn"t want to go on with living. Why I couldn"t go on with my life. I"ve tried any number of ways to kill myself, but I"m a spectacular failure. I slit my wrists, but I couldn"t cut deep enough, because I"m scared of pain. I tried swallowing pills, but all they did was make me sleepy, and vomit. I thought the day you hit me might be the end of the torture.” I grimaced, at the futility of my hopes. “Trust me to get hit by a vampire – who naturally has lightning-fast reflexes. And of course, you guessed about that day at the falls. If you hadn"t turned up, I had every intention of jumping.”

Doctor Harding appeared at my side, Ben beside him. The Doctor"s brow was deeply furrowed as he drew some liquid from a tiny bottle into a syringe. “This will help, Charlotte.” He inserted the needle into my arm, dropping the syringe onto the table before he grasped my fingers in his. “Try to relax, now. It"s over now, Charlotte, relax, and sleep.”

“We"re losing her,” Acenith warned. She was gripping Striker"s shoulder with her free hand and they both continued to focus intently on my eyes.

I sighed deeply, completely spent. “It"s okay. You can let go now.”

Striker and Acenith both battled for a second longer, then released their hands from my shoulder, apparently ending the tenuous link they"d held to my mind. Acenith stumbled heavily and Striker steadied her slim body against his.

The colossal waves of sorrow and misery hit me, swallowing me up in an abyss, in which I would surely drown. Struggling to suck air into my lungs, I felt unbearable pressure against my ribs and tears flowed freely, pouring down my cheeks in silent streams.

The last thing I recalled was Doctor Harding slipping an oxygen mask over my face and the anguish in Lucas"s eyes before I was swallowed by darkness.