Empty Closet

Untitled Part 30

Bright sunlight warms my face. Different rhythms of beeping bounce through my throbbing head. My eyes dart back and forth under my lids. Shuffles of feet and scrapping of polyester fades in and out. I tell myself open your eyes, but they are so heavy. My hands brush over still material. My eyes pop open.

"Where am I?" I shout. My loud voice frightens Dylan, he sits straight up in a chair next to me. I lift the stiff material, its faded blue and white checkers. I realize what it is, "why am I wearing a hospital gown? What is going on?"

"Babe you're ok, you're in the hospital." Dylan takes my hand in his clammy palms.

I yank away from him. "Why? Why am I here?" I demand.

Dylan opens his mouth to speak, pauses, then says, "Sophia and I brought you here last night, don't you remember?" His voice is too calm and monotone, its off.

I roll my shoulders and shake my head. "No. I don't remember anything. What are you talking about?" I swing my legs over of the bed. Dylan pushes up onto his feet, blocking me from getting out of bed.

"Betsy calm down. You shouldn't try to stand yet." He places his hands on my arms. "Please let me explain everything to you." Dylan wastes no time explaining every detail to me. "And so, they ran test and you tested positive for Molly and Rophynol," my eye sprung open. "Roffies." He inhales, "there wasn't just a little in your system there was enough..." His eyes fall to the ground along with a long sigh.

"What Dylan tell me, finish what you were going to say." My words harsh, as my body goes rigid.

"Enough to kill you if we hadn't got you here in time." My face goes blank along with me thoughts. Wait did he say kill me. Are you freaking serious right now? She really tried to kill me. This has to be a joke. I wait for him to tell me he's joking around or something. Nothing, his face falls on my stomach and his shoulders shake.

I thread my shaky fingers through his hair, trying to control my breathing. "Dylan are you serious?" My words are a whisper.

He nods his head, then lifts slightly resting his chin on my waist. His eyes are red and swollen, the dark circles under them has removed the life from his beautiful eyes. "Yes, they pumped your stomach and gave you IV fluids all night. I have been so worried about you." His eyes lock on mine, I feel him drawing me in.

"Does my aunt know I'm here?" I swallow deeply.

Dylan brushes away a few tears that are trying to escape his lifeless emeralds. "Yes. Sophia went back to your house last night to tell her." He answers, his chin quivers.

"Does she know what and why I'm here?"

"Sophia explained what Dior had said and about the champagne. She told her that we brought you to the hospital because you weren't well." His squeezes his eyes shut tight.

"And what did she say?" My voice is a mumble.

"Nothing Betsy." Tears roll down his cheeks. "She asked the doctors if you were going to live and then she left." Dylan rested his head on mine.

"Nothing." My chest is tingling, this can't truly be happening, it has to be a really bad joke. My eyes fix on Dylan, nope its defiantly not a joke. The longer I watch him the more I think he should also be admitted to the hospital. He is always full of life and positive energy, now he looks tired and defeated. Is it my fault he looks so somber, god I hope I didn't do this to him. I shake my head as I crease his hair while he rests against my chest.

Hours later I'm discharged, Dylan drives me home.

Dylan faces out the windshield, his eyes glance sideways at me. "Baby are you ok you haven't said much since we left the hospital. Are you upset with me because I basically made you drink the champagne?" His head falls into his hands.

I reach over, lifting his head off his hands. "No, I'm not mad at you, but I am very upset. She was actually trying to kill me and that was not your fault." Dylan squeezes my hand and tilts his head.

"Do you want to go inside? I nod and inhale deeply. "I am coming in and staying with you. I won't leave your side until you tell me to. Even then I still might not go." He lifts one side of his mouth.

Dylan drapes his tux coat over my shoulders before we sluggishly drag our feet towards the house. His large hand grips tightly over mine. My once elegant gown is now wrinkled and feels like it's suffocating me.

Dylan opens the front door, I walk cautiously through the threshold. "Oh, your home thank god I was so worried about you are you ok?" Sophia runs to me, wrapping her arms tightly around me. Dylan does not let go of my hand.

"No. But I'll be ok thanks for asking." My voice cracks.

Dior strut into the foyer. "What a sweet homecoming. How you feelin cousin?" She throws me her nasty smirk.

My mind erupts, smoke rolls out of my ear. I lose all control over my anger. Dylan drops my hand as I charge towards Dior, wrap my arms around her scrawny body, tackling her to the ground. "What kind of evil sick person are you? You diabolical psycho." I scream. My fist ball up and without any though I throw punches over and over to her in the face.

The only thing I'm aware of is Dior squirming and screaming, "help." Under me.

I may have told myself to stop, but it was no use I couldn't. I keep hitting her over and over. Every once of pain she has caused me over the past couple mouths was a montage in my mind powering more blows to her face. She has pushed me way too far. It came down to fight or flight and I am not running from her anymore. I am all fight. Suddenly I'm snatched up by the back of my dress, my arms still swinging for her face, but I was only hitting air. I dangle above her bloody body.

"What the hell are you doing Betsy and why are you two standing there watching this type of behavior?" Duke's holding me in the air like a doll as he points from Sophia to Dylan. "Don't either of you have anything to say?" Dukes voice bounces off the walls.

"Put me down now." I scream. Duke let go of me, just as I'd asked. My body collides with the hard-cold floor, I shake my head then crawl onto my knees. My gowns twisted and gathered at my thighs. I glare up at him, causing him to slightly step back.

"Duke sir, Sophia and I were not going to stop Betsy..." Dylan pauses, a growl deep in Dukes throat rumbles out. Dylan continues, "you see Dior deserves what she got. She tried to kill Betsy by putting drugs in her drink last night." Duke's brows pinch. His eyes move to me then Dior.

"Dylan that's enough. We open our home to you, and this is how we get treated in return, I am appalled." His upper lip curling up exposing some his perfectly white teeth.

"Duke, it's not a lie its true." Sophia begs. "I have no reason to lie to you. Dior and I have been friends for ever. The things she has been doing lately, well she's not herself and it's out of control. She needs help before she hurts someone else or herself." Sophia's says with a shaky and tears rolling down her face.

Duke hesitates, his eyes lingered on me. I press up onto my feet, exhale and tilt my head. Why is he peering at me like that, its not anger in his eyes anymore it almost appears to be, sympathy. Even as a child I was never close to Duke. I always felt like he never wanted me around, I mean I still feel like that. I always seem to be a bother to him some type of charity case, the daughter if his poor sister in law. But right now, I cannot read his face, he has never looked at me this way before.

"Oh, my lord someone call 911." Cathy screams as she runs in staring at Dior's bloody lifeless body on the floor. I remove my gaze from Duke and twist in Cathy's direction. She scowls at me. "What have you done, now." She cradles Dior, her shoulders tremble.

I throw my hands in the air, "maybe you two are the ones that need the help. Your totally oblivious, your daughter is a drugged out anorexic slut who is trying to ruin my life right along with hers. You keep blaming all her problems on me. Dior put drugs in my drink last night, enough to actually kill me and she's done it before." I stomp my foot. "I don't deserve any of this."

"Betsy that's enough..." Cathy's cut off by the paramedics pounding on the front door and sirens taking over the foyer. She glares up at me, "we'll finish this when I return." Cathy rushes to the door. She and Duke follow the paramedics as they carry Dior on a stretcher out of the house, to the waiting ambulance.

"Oh, I can't wait to finish this." I end up yelling at the closed door.