My Beautiful Mind

24.

"Are you sure this is the right way to the tarot card reader's place?" I warily ask my bubbly, high-spirited friend Amanda for the third time as we stroll down the darkened streets. I'd suggested to her that we'd stay in at my house tonight binge-watching Sherlock on Netflix, but Amanda, always the bold, adventurous one, had insisted we'd go out to find this mystic to get readings done–determined to try it out since she's read about it in a magazine. Trying my hardest not to be the 'antisocial loner' Amanda had always teasingly said I was, I agreed.

It's times like these when I wonder why on Earth Amanda approached me, a shy and reserved girl, on the first day of junior year. She had just moved to Queens over the summer from Seattle and could've made friends with anyone, anyone with a personality similar to hers, but she remained a constant companion by my side. Over the past few months, after many sleepovers, trips to the mall, late night rock concerts, and study sessions, I finally allowed myself to open up to her and share with her my innermost secrets, my emotions, my fears. Evan and Jamie were overjoyed that I was branching out and reassured me many times that we were still closer knit than the Three Musketeers.

"We're here," Amanda chirps as we stop at a darkened warehouse on an abandoned street. I take in my surroundings in the hopes of finding any familiar indications of where we are, but unfortunately, I'm not familiar with this part of Queens. "Are you sure, Amanda? Maybe we took a wrong turn?" I ask her, pretty sure tarot readings weren't done in sketchy places such as this. Amanda rolls her eyes and I swear I see a flash of contempt in her baby blue eyes. When Amanda doesn't go through the doors first like she always does whenever we go someplace new, my instincts tells me leave now. I start to turn around, "Mandy, I think I'm just going to go–" I'm cut off mid-sentence when Amanda's hand harshly grabs my arm. She shoves me through the doors before I can scream for help.

As soon as I cross the threshold of the warehouse, five boys I've seen Amanda occasionally hang out with seem to wait for me to come in. Two rush over to grab my arms and lead me to a sole wooden chair in the center of the warehouse, while another covers my mouth with a piece of duct tape. As the five work together to confine me to the chair with rope, Amanda surveys the action with hands her hips. "I told you I'd get her for you, boys," Amanda tells them over my muffled screams and the pounding music blaring from a portable speaker, her usually upbeat voice now dripping with triumphant venom. From what I can see from the disorientating lights of a bunch of electric lanterns, Amanda watches the boys with an undisguised hope I've seen before. An undisguised hope I've seen plastered on her pale face each time those boys walked past us in the school hallways, each time they approached us at lunch, each time they striked a conversation with her while she waited for me at her locker at the end of the day.

An undisguised hope that would persuade Amanda to do anything to earn these popular, good-looking boys' favor and attention. I stare at her as I thrash against my restraints in horror. Even if it meant throwing me away like an insignificant piece of trash.

The boys finish the last knot and take a look at their handiwork. Reflecting back in the predatory, evil smirks on their faces, I know what they see. They see a terrified seventeen year-old girl with tears streaming down her face, uselessly fighting the ropes they've wrapped way too tightly around me. The bare skin on my arms burns as I continue my attempts to escape. After Amanda and the boys watch me suffer, the leader of the group, Liam, I think his name is, turns to my traitorous former friend. "You promised to tell us the dirt on her," he demands with an excited grin on his face. Amanda laughs and gives Liam a flirty smile that makes me sick. "But there's so many," she says slowly as if she's trying to think of the best ones to tell. Sobs escape from my throat as she prepares to violate me in the worst way possible. "Did you know that this ugly, lowlife bitch sometimes has nightmares and has to sleep in bed next to her brother? How sick is that?" My heart shatters as the six of them laugh at a confession I remember feeling so light and relieved to have told. The pounding music drowns out my sobs and screams as Amanda proceeds to reveal everything I've confided to her until I'm reduced to nothing.

I am nothing, I tell myself when I finally hang my head in defeat.

Amanda is in the midst of telling the boys of my hidden guilt of burdening my brother as the 'loser that I am' when the doors of the warehouse burst open to reveal Evan and Jamie. My heart, my dead, lifeless heart, seems to faintly beat at the sight of my best friends.

The only people I would ever trust for the rest of my life.

Through the strands of black hair that cover my face, both Evan and Jamie look absolutely murderous. The joking, laughing, and kind-hearted boys I've grown up with are long gone. Amanda and the boys freeze, slowly inching towards the door after turning off the speaker. Evan and Jamie reach me in just a few long strides. Without a word, Jamie's on his knees untying the ropes that hold me to the chair and gently peels the duct tape off my mouth, all while keeping soft, gentle eyes on me, trying to calm the hysterical sobs that are threatening to tear from my throat. Meanwhile, Evan stands protectively over me and stares down Amanda and the boys with unforgiving deep brown eyes promising them absolute hell. "Get the fuck out," he seethes, fury, pain, and guilt dripping from his voice. Evan then focuses on Amanda, the disgusting smugness wiped clean from her face, "If I ever see you looking at, talking to, or being within a even foot from Elin, I will end you."

Before the six of them scurry out the door, I shakily stand up from the chair with Jamie's arm around my waist to keep me steady. "You promised," I whisper out brokenly to Amanda. An unreadable expression flashes across her face before she leaves the warehouse with Liam and the others at her heels. When the door closes resoundingly behind them, all that could be heard were my uneven breaths. I glance at Evan who has his hands clenched in fists and his eyes closed, trying to calm himself down for my sake. "Evan," I croak out, leaning against Jamie for support. Evan immediately turns his attention to me, his expression softening at the heartbreak, betrayal, and trauma brewing in my solemn eyes. "She promised," I repeat numbly. Evan strides over to me and Jamie relinquishes his hold to let him envelop me in a hug. "I know, Elin. I know. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."

As I begin to block out everything around me except for the thundering beats of Evan's strong heart, his broken voice pierces through the numbing nothingness that's beginning to take over my body.

"I'm so sorry."