Authors: Cheryl McIntyre
Fourteen
:
Word of the teenage girl that committed suicide in front of her classmates made the news in the evening. Pictures of West H
unt
High School flash
on the television. Police hadn’t yet released
Farah’s name and as Keely stares
at
the screen, she i
s relieved nobody
outside of school
kno
w
s her identity. Relieved she does
n’t have to look at pictures of a smiling Farah. A living Farah. Because ultimately it is Keely’s fault Farah is no longer smiling. No longer living.
All her fault.
“You are not responsible for this. You had no control over what happened to Farah.” Nick turns the channel. “You didn’t do anything.”
“I know that I didn’t do it, but it was done because of me.” She shakes her head. “I just keep thinking… You have no idea how many times I wished Farah would just go away. How many times I hoped for her to get what she deserved. But she didn’t deserve to die. She didn’t deserve for everybody to think she took her own life.” Keely takes a shaky breath. “Imagine what her parents are going through. That is my fault.”
“I see what you’re saying. I hear you, but you’re wrong. It comes down to this, you
didn’t ask for it to be done. You didn’t make it happen. Y
ou didn’t know about it ahead of time. There’s no possible way you could have stopped it.”
“I know, Nick. I’m just saying that I feel guilty because if I didn’t exist, Farah would still be alive. I can’t change the way I f
eel. It’s just the way it is. S
o quit trying to make me feel better because I’m not going to.”
Nick hands Keely her sketch pad and pencils. “You shouldn’t feel bad for existing,” he says softly
. He
goes to t
he kitchen to make dinner. B
akes chicken because it’s the only thing he knows how to make with all this healthy food. It doesn’t take long to prepare, but he stays in the kitchen and busies himself, readying the rest of the meal. Keely has begun drawing and he doesn’t want to disturb her, fully aware that her sketching is better than a hug. Means more than any words he could say. Will make her feel like herself again.
Keely looks up from her paper and watches Nick make a large salad he probably won’t eat any of. “Why does Lila call you Icky?”
Nick laughs and looks over his shoulder at her. “When we were little, she couldn’t say Nicky, which is what my family called me. So she called me Icky and it just kind of stuck. Though that isn’t the version she tells. According to her,
it’s because
I’m gross
. M
y story’s the real one.” He raises his eyebrows quickly, making them jump.
“That’s cute. I like your version better.” She starts sketching aga
in.
After a moment, Keely looks back up at Nick. “How old are you?”
“Nineteen,” he says as he pulls plates from the cabinet. “I’m one of the youngest to be assigned lead on a job. If it had been any dif
ferent, you probably would have
ended up with a fifty year old
,
no nonsense Guardian.”
“I really got lucky then that I got such a young stud such as yourself,” she teases.
“You really are. Look at all this,” he plays along, his hand doing a sweep of his body.
“Oh, to think
,
I may have missed out. The horror of it.” Keely places the back of her hand to her forehead dramatically.
“I have no effect on you at all?” Nick jokes, feigning hurt feelings.
“Is dinner done yet, Casanova?”
“Yes. You hungry?”
“Always.”
Keely stares at her plate. Always hungry. Farah will never eat again. She will never sit with her family at dinner and talk about her day. Never, ever again. And just like that, Keely loses her appetite. The sadness creeps back in and right behind it, the guilt. The big smothering blanket of guilt. She didn’t like Farah, not in the least. She had probably said she hated Farah a few times in the past year or so. May have even imagined Farah getting hit by the school bus on occasion. Definitely dreamed of her being as miserable as she made Keely. But now that Farah is dead, Keely cannot fight the fact that she is the reason. She may as well have held the knife in her hand.
What makes Keely feel even
worse
is that the first functional emotion
she was able to have, after fear, had been
relief. She was glad it wasn’t she who had been killed. Grateful it hadn’t been Nick, or her parents, or any of her friends.
So there it is. She
is, in the end, happy it wa
s Farah before anybody else. How does one live with that? Yes, she may as well have slit Farah’s throat herself.
Keely doesn’t utter a word of her inner turmoil. Instead, she chokes down bite after bite of chicken. Smiles at Nick. Laughs when she thinks she is supposed to. Nods at the appropriate times.
She couldn’t have fooled Nick.
**
*
As the evening passes quietly, there is a static building in the air. A smell of rain brought through the window on a gust of warm wind. A storm coming. Funny how her surroundings often mirror Keely’s feelings these days.
Thunder booms several times
shaking the foundation of the small apartment. There is a blare of white outside the window as lightning streaks across the sky, once, twice, three times. Nearly touches the ground.
“Did you see that?” she asks, turning her attention to Nick where he sits beside her on the couch. Before he has
a
chance to answer, the lights flicker several times. Go out with the pop of breaking glass bulbs. Keely jumps with a shriek.
“I think the lightning hit the power line,” Nick says with a nervous laugh. The clock on the microwave flashes twelve o’clock. “That’s going to suck trying to replace these light bulbs. Flip the T.V. on, please.”
Keely feels
across the futon
. “Are you sure it’s safe to turn it on?” she verifie
s as her fingers curl around the remote
.
“I don’t know, but I need the light.”
With a shrug, Keely presses the button. Black and white static fills the screen. The volume is too loud. The shrill sound hurts her ears.
Lightning bolts through the sky
again
and with it brings
pain. A bolt of lightning straight through her body. Nick is thrown to the floor with the force. Shocked, he pushes himself up just in time to see a bolt of white hot lightning strike Keely’s heart. Her body lights up, rises off the couch with the jolt. She
is surrounded by a glow
ing halo as she falls back and
rolls to the floor. Nick feels glued in place, frozen with horror. Thunder rumbles and Keely’s body convulses, seizing with the vibration. He slumps to his knees. Raises his hands to touch her, but doesn’t know where. Doesn’t know if he should. Her body stills and he presses two fingers to her neck checking for a pulse. It’s strong and steady. He pulls her limp body onto his legs. Hugs her to him.
“Oh, God. Please be O.k.,” he chokes out.
Keely feels cold and tingly…and wrong. There is a foreignness to her. Inside of her. It claws at her insides. Pushes on her brain. Tries to expand beneath her flesh making her feel as though she will burst at any moment. And just as she thinks she can take no more, it stops. Not slowly, but immediately. Stills as if it has frozen. But it doesn’t leave her. No. It’s there. Hiding. Waiting. She is sure.
“Happy Birthday, D
aughter.”
Keely opens her eyes. Blinks slowly. She turns to face her father. He wears a look of triumph. He is so beautiful, she notices. This is the first time she has fully seen him, every feature
, in perfect clarity
.
The dimple in his strong chin.
His golden hair
that seems to almost glow. The flawless pale skin. And h
is eyes that she always thought were
a dark
blue
now hold so many colors. Some she can’t even name. There is so much
beauty;
it’s almost painful to look at.
“You look well. Mos
t don’t take to the change so easily. But you’re different
, aren’t you? Special.” He beams at her proudly and Keely cannot focus on his words, or more importantly, what they mean.
“What? What are you talking about?”
“You have lived for eighteen years. You have earned your God given talents. Now you must learn how to use them. Come to me and I will teach you.” He reaches out his hand nearly touching hers. Just the smallest of movements wo
uld put her fingers with his. Looking up, h
er gaze shifts from his strong pale hands to his face. Her face she realizes. But not her eyes. She has her mother’s eyes.
“No, I can’t stay with you. I have to get my parents.” She speaks slowly, her voice strained. She doesn’t really want to say the words coming from her mouth. She wants to stop, push them back in and take her father’s hand. But somewhere, deep inside, something moves, reminding her. She can’t stay. She has a duty to her parents first. To get them somewhere safe.
“Yes, I know. I plan to take care of that. Make that your second present.”
“My second. What was my first?” She feels a tremble inside.
“Your sacrifice.” He looks at her as if he is disappointed. As if she shouldn’t have asked such a stupid question. But Keely still doesn’t understand.
“My sacrifice? What exactly did I sacrifice?” Her hands tremble at her sides.
“No, my Keely, not what you have sacrificed. You will never have to do that. You can have it all. Anything. Everything.” He drops his
hand finally and steps closer. B
rings his face
close to hers.
“That awful girl will never hurt you again.”
Keely stumbles backward. Moves away from him, away from his words. Shakes her head because though she doesn’t want to believe it,
she
now understands exactly what he means
. “It was you. You made Farah kill herself.”
“Sacrifice.”
She is still shaking her head. Still trying to make it not true. “No. No. I don’t want anybody being sacrificed for me. I don’t want any of this. I just want my life back. Don’t you see what this is doing to me? I can’t take any more. Just please leave me alone. Just go away. Send me back and stay away from me forever.” Her voice trills toward hysteria as she pleads with her father.
“What’s done is done. We can’t go back. We c
an’t change things. Now can we?” His gaze locks into hers, holds it. Holds her. Penetrates. She senses he is telling her something, but what, she doesn’t know. Doesn’t want to know. Just wants out of here.
“No more. There will be no more sacrifice. No more killing.”
“Of course
. As you wish. You only need
the one, my Keely. It only took a few drops of sacrificia
l blood to earn you your accolades
. Oh, and these gifts, they are special. Special talents for a special child. I handpicked them myself.”
Keely continues to back away from her father until she hits the wall.
“Just a f
ew drops of an enemy’s blood. It h
ad to be. Lucky you.
” His nose crinkles.
“Or else it may have gone
very differently. I never promised you your Nick’s
safety. Then again, you’ve never
care
d enough
to ask, did you?”
Now Keely steps forward, going to him. “You better not touch him. Ever.”
His eyes flash, but the anger disappears quickly. He looks at her sadly
. “I wish you would have told me sooner
. I didn’t know he meant anything to you.
Don’t worry, he didn’t suffer.
”
“Send me back. Now. Right now!”
“What’s done is done. Let me make it up to you. Anything you want.”
“I want to go back. I will not stay with you. I want to go back to Nick!”
Keely’s eyes pop open. Nick’s arms embrace her tightly.
“Please come back to me, Keely. Please come back to me,” he whispers. His frame shakes, his breath rushes out of him. Keely lifts her hand to his hair, fingers comb through softly.
“You’re alive,” she says quietly.
Nick lifts his head. Huge hazel eyes stare questioningly at her. Before he has a chance to say anything, Keely hugs him tightly with relief. “I thought…” He shakes his
head. “I thought you were dying
.”