Read Faithless Online

Authors: Amanda Bennett

Faithless (2 page)

CHAPTER TWO
Tristan

I can't help but watch her in amazement throughout
group. Unlike most of us here who were saved and happy about it, she wish she
had died. I find myself unable to fathom how a person could feel alone enough
to not want to live. She perplexes me in a way that I have never felt before,
and her eyes do something to me that I may never be able to explain.

For the first time in forever, I actually want to
get to know this girl. I want to know her deepest darkest secrets, and I want
her to trust me enough to tell me them. Her name, Riley, slips off of my tongue
and feels so natural to speak it. She's absolutely beautiful, in a very
understated way. Maybe in another life she was a model of some sorts, because
her look is captivating. Her long, dark brown hair is shiny and looks well
taken care of, even though I can barely tell because she has it piled on top of
her head. Her eyes are as blue as the bluest ocean, and I can't stop seeing them
every time I close mine. Her face has already taken over my every thought and
desire. How could this be happening?

Mr. Rollins is wrapping up group and I know I
probably won't see Riley for the rest of the day. Word around the ward is that
she pretty much keeps to herself and stays in her room. I understand the space
she probably needs, but for me the minute she leaves this room, I will obsess
over needing to see her, to talk to her, or even just hear her voice. Her voice
is small, but angelic and it's now all I want to hear.

"Okay, I guess I will see all of you tomorrow
morning. Remember, you can always come by my office if you need to talk. Try to
have a great day." Mr. Rollins stands, giving everybody a small wave of
dismissal, but Riley hasn't moved.

I stand next to where she is still sitting with her
arms firmly crossed over her chest, and I want to say something, anything, but
I have nothing. Before I can even say good-bye, Mr. Rollins is calling her
name.

"Riley, can I please see you alone for a minute."

I hesitate to leave after I notice Riley's body
stiffen at Mr. Rollins’ voice. She seems extremely uncomfortable with the
thought of being with him alone. Mr. Rollins looks in my direction, nodding his
head in the direction of the door and I can't help but let out an audible sigh.

I look down at the top of Riley's head and whisper
so only she can hear me, "Are you going to be okay?"

When she looks up, her entire demeanor has changed.
She looks angry and irritated, maybe by my question, but my gut tells me it's
more because she has to speak with Rollins alone.

"I'm fine." She snarls.

"Fine. See you later."

"Not likely." She responds with anger
lacing every word. She is going to be one tough cookie to crack.

I let my fingers graze her shoulder just enough
that she doesn't notice, as I pass by her and into the hallway. I don't know
what came over me, but I'm feeling overprotective of her and want to make sure
she is okay, so I wait. I wait in the hallway for what seems like a half hour,
until her tiny body comes walking out of the open door. My six foot four frame
dwarfs her, maybe five feet seven inches. I chuckle to myself as she tries not
to notice me standing there, obviously waiting for her.

I can see her eyes dart quickly in my direction,
but then she turns to head back to her room. I slowly follow behind, wanting to
talk to her, but knowing that it most likely isn't going to happen. My feet
halt quickly, as she turns to face me in front of what I could only assume is
her room.

"What do you want,
Tristan
?" The way she says my name makes me laugh internally.
She was pissed.

"I just wanted to see if maybe you would like
to come with me to get lunch later in the cafeteria?"

"And what gave you the impression that I would
ever want to do that?"

Man she had an attitude that's for sure, but damn
it if it didn't make me want her even more. "Was just curious was all, but
no worries. I'll leave you be. Sorry Riley."

I turn and start making my way down the long
hallway to the common room, almost hoping she would change her mind and come
running after me, but even though I didn't know her that well or even at all, I
knew this wouldn't happen. I shrugged my shoulders and continued over to my
usual table where "Crazy John" and I always play checkers after
group. I sat in my usual chair, as John liked the same chair everyday. He was a
bit obsessive compulsive, and sitting in his chair was one thing that would set
off his abusive streak. Unfortunately for me, I had to find that out the hard
way, but now we are cool, as long as I never sat in his seat.

"You made it. I was starting to think you
weren't coming." His voice was soothing, almost like a father's voice.

"Sorry John, I just had something to do real
quick. You ready for me to kick your ass again today?"

"Oh please, pretty boy. You act like I don't
let
you win." His laugh echoed off
of every wall and filled the room.

"Just take your turn John, and stop calling me
pretty boy."

John was the first person I met the night I came
in. After being cleared by the emergency room, they instantly brought me up to
the psychiatric ward. I knew exactly what was going on. Hell, I had the routine
down pat, after the second time of being here, I knew exactly what to expect.
John didn't like me much when I first tried to talk to him. I knew everybody
called him "Crazy John" because he had been in here so often, but I
never once called him that to his face. Despite my niceties towards him, he
decided the first time he saw me that he didn't care what my name was. He was
adamant that he was going to call me "Pretty Boy," and there was
absolutely nothing I could do about it. I didn't mind. I used to get called
worse things by my friends and classmates, so if pretty boy was what he wanted
to call me, then I would let him.

"Are you even paying attention, pretty
boy?" His voice broke through my revelry like a knife.

"Of course." I took my turn and looked at
John in anticipation of his next move. "Hey John?"

He looked up confused. We rarely if ever had a
conversation. "Um, yeah?"

"Do you know anything about the new girl,
Riley?"

John hung is head and refused to look at me.
"Kind of. Just what people have said and what I've overheard the nurses
saying. Why?"

"No reason. I was just curious is all." I
pushed back in my chair, trying to balance on the back two legs, when I heard
her voice float through the air. I instantly placed the legs of the chair back
on the ground and engrossed myself in my game with John. I didn't want to feel
the wrath of Riley again today, so my plan was to completely ignore her.

"She's coming over here."

"What? Why?"

"Well I don’t know, pretty boy. Why don't you
ask her? Oh, and it's your move."

"Always so impatient, aren't we?" I
joked.

As I pondered over my next move, I could feel her
presence getting closer. I knew she was right behind me, when the intoxicating
aroma of vanilla assaulted my senses. God, she even smelled good. Staying away
from her was going to be much harder than I had anticipated. Damn it!

CHAPTER THREE
Riley

Tristan had caught me off guard earlier as I was
walking back to my room. No one in this place ever tried to talk to me, except
for Mr. Rollins. I could only assume that my attitude was to blame for that,
but I was fine not speaking to anybody. The less people noticed me or talked to
me, only meant it would be easier to not be remembered when I left.

After group, Mr. Rollins had told me how proud he
was that I actually spoke up in group today. It was nice to hear, but it made
no difference. I just needed him to believe me when I said I was feeling better
and less suicidal, so I could leave this damn place. Group had been easy for me
to make my way through and it passed the time, but today was the first time any
one had noticed me, and it scared the shit out of me.

When I had gone back to my room, the only visions
that ran through my head were of Tristan. Something about him intrigued me. I
knew better than to try to get close to him, or let him get close to me, but
there was something in his eyes that captured my attention.

After twenty minutes of staring aimlessly at the
popcorn ceiling, yet again, something made me get up and go out to the common
room. The last thing I expected to see when I reached the bright open room was
Tristan playing checkers with Crazy John. Apparently, I was the only one who
didn't try to connect with others.

I slowly made my way in his direction. He was busy
looking down at the board in front of him, so I didn't expect a greeting of any
sorts, but I was still shocked when I was the one who spoke first.

"Is this what you do all day?" My voice
came out flat with zero emotion behind it.

"Not all day." He replied without turning
to face me.

"I see."

I stood there staring at the back of Tristan's head
as he continued his game. I was a little surprised at his lack of
acknowledgment that I was there. It started to irritate me a bit and I quickly
became impatient waiting for him to say something.

"Are you just going to stand there and
stare?"

I could hear the amusement in his tone, but now I
was just pissed. This was a mistake. I quickly turned and started making my way
back to my room. Although I wasn't tired, I figured I would take a nap to pass
the time. I was done. I had never made an effort with anybody else here, and I
realized I had made a mistake trying to start now.

I quietly closed the door to my room and pulled the
hair band from around my bun, releasing my long strands so they could freely
flow down my back. I stripped off my sweatshirt, leaving me in my jeans and a
white tank top. I slid under the scratchy beige sheets and rolled onto my side
with my back facing the door. My eyes began to get heavy, and finally I
succumbed to sleep. My body relaxed and for the first time in seven days, I
felt my body enjoying the relaxed state.

~~~~

I was woken by a knock on the door. I instantly sat
up straight, pulling the covers up to my chin. Flashbacks of being at my third
foster home flashed through my mind and I could feel the tears welling up
behind my lids. When I heard the knock again, I began to tremble. I knew I was
safe in this place, but my body couldn't help the way it reacted to certain
things.

When I heard Tristan's voice on the other side of
the door, the tension in my body gave way. I didn't know what to say to him, or
if I even
wanted
to say anything. The
way I felt around him was completely foreign to me and I really didn't like
it.
 
I quickly ducked down under the
covers and pretended to still be asleep, just as I heard the door crack open.
The only thing he would be able to see was my hair sticking out from under the
covers and hopefully that would be enough for him to leave me alone. No matter
how I thought I was feeling towards this guy, I could never let him in. There
was no point when I wasn't even going to be around after I got released. It was
easier this way.

I heard his footsteps coming closer to my bed, but
then they stopped briefly and then they started to fade. When the door clicked
into the frame, I let out the breath I hadn't realized I had been holding. I
pushed the covers back off of me, and sat up to find my journal.

Mr. Rollins had convinced all of us to start a
journal outlining our time here. He made it very clear that these would never
be shared, so he encouraged us to write anything and everything that came to
our minds. The first day I hadn't written anything besides the date. I looked
at the journal in a different way than most, I'm sure. Instead of writing how I
was feeling that day, or what had happened, I decided to leave behind a part of
me that only one person would understand once it was found.

I grabbed the small spiral notebook and a pen off
of my nightstand and sat back against the wall, preparing myself to write
today's entry.

Mom,

I'm on
day seven in this place that is supposed to be helping me, but in all
actuality, I don't believe anything can help erase the damage you have done to
me. I wish I could say that every second of every day I sat and waited for you,
but after the first year of being in that orphanage on my own, I knew it
wouldn't happen.

I've
tried for years to understand how a mother could possibly justify doing what
you did to me. Because of what you did and the things you put me through, I had
to endure much worse than any child should ever have to. You broke me. At the
age of three, you broke me beyond repair. I wish I could say that one day I
would forgive you, but you don't deserve my forgiveness and I highly doubt you
care enough to ask for it.

I wish I
had pictures of the places I was supposed to call "home" after I was
finally fostered. The orphanage was bad enough, but I can honestly say that I
would've rather stayed there until I was eighteen, as opposed to the places I
ended up.

I'll
always remember the good times, but let's face it, they were few and far
between, and they only lasted until I was two. I hate you for EVERYTHING! I
would never want a mother like you. You were one of the worst things that
could've happened to me. You selfish bitch. You should've never had kids and
not a day goes by when I wished that you had aborted or given me up for
adoption.

I hope
you rot in hell for what you did.

Riley

I let out a relieved breath as I closed my journal
and placed it back in the drawer in the nightstand. Whether my mother ever read
my journal or not, I knew it was getting me closer to being at peace with
myself before I left this earth for good.

I glanced at the clock on the wall behind me and
realized that it was almost time for dinner. I dreaded going to the cafeteria
every day, but today was just a little less dreadful. As much as I hated to
admit it, I was looking forward to seeing Tristan.

I slowly made my way to the cafeteria, for once
holding my head up instead of staring at the ground. I scanned the small space
looking for him, but he was nowhere to be found. I don't know why, but
disappointment washed over me and suddenly I wasn't very hungry. I was standing
in line, tray in hand staring in a daze, when I felt a hand lightly touch my
lower back. I instinctively turned in anticipation to fight off whoever was
trying to touch me, when my eyes met those baby blues.

"I'm sorry." He held his hands up in
surrender.

"Don't touch me, please." I spoke through
gritted teeth.

"I really am sorry, Riley. I wasn't thinking.
It's nice to see you though."

I tried my hardest to be mad at him, but all of my
anger dissipated as he stood there looking down at me with that apologetic look
on his face. "It's okay. You didn't know." I looked up at him and I
could feel a brick from the wall around my heart fall. I clutched at my chest,
not wanting this to happen. I needed that wall, and I wasn't willing to pull it
down for anybody, no matter how good looking he was.

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