Holding My Breath [Wattys 2016]

9 4 ~ R u s t y

                 

Present Day ~ July 23, 2011

We don't bring it up on the way to Blue's house.

I don't know what else to talk about. What just happened, back in the woods, that was an explosion.

I know that I'll have to explain everything to him. He's not going to be able to stand being on the outside forever. He told me that he would be there for me. That this was something we were going to figure out.

And if that's going to work, I'm going to have to tell him... everything. I'm going to have to explain. The robbery. The interrogation. The money. The crash. The match boxes. Caesar. His game. My secrets. The things I've never let come out of my mouth from the very beginning

Deny everything, right? Don't let anyone know what is really going on inside because those are the things that will get you put in jail. Those are the things that will get you locked up, destroy you. Get you killed.

But you know what I found out on the day everything really went down? The day with the lake and the first matchbox and the day I let go of my brother as he drifted away into the ice? Denying what happened isn't going to get me anywhere.

Lying. Pretending nothing ever happened to me. Not telling anyone. Not asking for help. Lying. Denying. Pretending. Lying.

All of this just makes everything else go to hell. I lied to the police. My family was killed. I didn't tell Blue what was going on, and Caesar crashed the truck. I didn't get help when the murderer started tapping on my window at night. And look at where that has gotten me.

We get to his house and it hits me again, the memory of the first time that we came here together. I try to shake it off as he opens the door. Deja vu, I guess.

The house looks the same as it did the first time I was here. I smile shyly at Blue and stand still. I don't know what to do now. How do I look at him without thinking about what just happened? What does he see when he looks at me, now? He doesn't see me for me anymore.

That was the great part about being Rusty. She had no past. She had nothing that could change the way people looked at her. And everything that people thought of her came from what I did when I was her. But Rusty isn't who I am anymore. The cat's out of the bag, I guess. Or at least, Anna's out of the bag.

"Do you want something to drink?" he asks and I shrug. He starts to head off to the kitchen and calls back. "Make yourself comfortable."

I nod, even though he doesn't see me. The living room that I walk into is so... normal. There's nothing special about it. It's cozy, with a couch and a recliner, a small television sitting across from it. There's a coffee table, too, and the whole thing is pulled together with a rug. It's all brown and tan and soft.

I sit down on the couch. I have no idea how I'm going to talk to him. I have no idea what I'm going to say now. I see him and my heart leaps, and not because I'm scared.

I'm the one putting him in danger. I keep thinking that it would be better if I just left. It would be better if I just wasn't here. If I never came here.

This whole thing is so screwed up...

I'm tired again, those long nights of waiting for Caesar to break in again are catching up. I wonder if he's watching us through the windows right now. I wonder if he's in the house right now. It's possible. He's done it before.

I lean my head against the side of the couch, closing my eyes for just a minute. When I close my eyes, for once in my life, I find it easier to relax. I'm not trying to keep the panicking thoughts at bay. I'm not fighting them. They aren't even bothering me right now. Instead, closing my eyes brings me peace. Closing my eyes doesn't trap everything inside me because it's all out now.

And quickly, quietly, I fall asleep. But it's not long before the peace is shattered and I start to dream.