Once I get over the shock I start to get angry. It’s a good thing for Caleb that he killed me after all, because if he’d tried that with me he would have been the one at the bottom of the river. A surge of pure hatred runs through me, dark emotion that fills me till I might burst.
Caleb looks up in surprise as the TV screen suddenly fuzzes out, filling the room with violent static. The lamp on the side table flicks on, then off, then on again.
“What the hell?” He sounds scared, and it fills me with wicked delight.
Did I just do that? The look on his face makes me so happy. I want to do it again. I concentrate on the lamp, trying to make it go on and off again, but it just sits there and does nothing.
Later that night I go to her. Nakia’s in bed, the sheets pulled up under her chin like a child trying to shield herself from nightmares. It seems ludicrous that I should feel sorry for her, but somehow I do. There’s still a faint red mark on her cheek from where Caleb slapped her. Why doesn’t she just leave him? Why doesn’t she just get up and run away from here? The answer is obvious I guess, she’s too scared.
Not for the first time I wonder about her family. I had only met them briefly, and it hadn’t been a pleasant experience. She wouldn’t talk about it, so I didn’t ask. Should I have persisted in asking? Insisted she tell me about her home life? Ask her if everything was okay? Her face loomed in my mind, the expression of fearful resignation. Did this mean she's used to that sort of treatment?
She turns, burying her face in her pillow. Crying quietly. Standing beside her bed I reach out to her, but my hand passes through the sheets like there is nothing there, and I sigh and pull away. Eventually she turns over, staring at the ceiling with puffy eyes. Her lips are moving, and I come closer. She is whispering.
“If you’re here, and you can hear me, Bree, I’m so sorry.”
I blink, startled. When did Nakia start believing in ghosts? I strain to hear her words in the darkness as she continues. “I heard Caleb talking to his friends, about the beer bottles, how they all flew off. And I saw the TV and the lights. I don’t know if that was just a power surge, or you are really here. I know if you are, you probably hate me.” Her voice dissolves into sobs and it’s a good thirty seconds before she can control herself to speak again. “I’m such a bad friend, I’m so sorry. I really was your friend though, it wasn’t all a lie. I was just…stupid and jealous. I was jealous because you had everything: looks, money, amazing parents. And I was always jealous because my parents are drunk and mean, and I have no money.” She sniffles, wiping her nose on the sleeve of her pajamas. “It’s not an excuse, and I’m still a horrible person. But I want you to know I really did enjoy spending time with you, being your friend. I wish I had never met Caleb.” Her voice drops, like she’s afraid he might hear. “He’s like a poison, Bree. He draws you in and you don’t even know what he’s really like until it’s too late, and you’re in over your head and drowning. Well, you know.”
She trails off, and the soft crying starts again. Part of me, a small cold part in the pit of my stomach, is still angry. That part is saying that it’s too late to say sorry. That she betrayed me and I’ll never forgive her, ever. But another, stronger part is wishing that I could reach out and touch her, or communicate in some way. I should hate you, I want to say, you were stupid and you stabbed me in the back, but somehow I still forgive you. It didn’t even make any sense to me, but I did. She was too pathetic to blame. She was a silly, jealous girl who had allowed herself to be influenced by a man. An evil man.
Just like me, I thought grimly. When I’d first met him, I thought Caleb was so charming and handsome. I‘d been jealous when we’d go out and other girls had looked at him, and proud when I showed people his picture. When I think about all the things I bought him…a watch, a necklace…a new VCR when his old one broke. It made me feel sick thinking about how stupid I’d been. Somehow I’d reasoned that if I bought him things he would continue to be with me. That it was the only way he would stay with me.
I had been fooled too.
The police show up in the morning. Two of them stand on the doorstep when Nakia answers the door, a tall, broad shouldered officer with piercing blue eyes and a fiercely hooked nose, and a short boxy woman, her straw-blonde hair collected in a tight bun at the back of her neck.
“Ms. Peters?” The hooknose officer eyes Nakia critically.
Nakia’s face twitches, then she catches herself and smoothes her expression into neutrality. “Yes, something I can help you with?”
The policewoman answers the question before hooknose can. “We’d like to talk to you and your roommate, Caleb Grant. Is he at home today? I’m Officer Holt and this is Officer Love.”
Officer Love eyeballs Nakia grimly, as if he’s daring her to make a crack about his name. Nakia nods. “He’s in the kitchen. Um, would you like to come in? It’s sort of messy in here, sorry.”
The police step inside. Officer Love is examining everything with keen interest, like he’s mentally cataloguing everything away. I hope he’s as sharp as he looks. Everything could be solved if the police could just find out what’d happened. Officer Holt keeps her eyes straight ahead while she walks to the couch, and she sits down on it gingerly, as if she’s afraid it might collapse underneath her.
Nakia goes into the kitchen, her voice drifts in a low murmur, telling Caleb that the police are here. He doesn’t say anything back, but when he comes into the living room, wiping his hands on his blue jeans, he has an easy smile on his face. That charming persona is back in place. He turns it on and off with an ease that speaks of long practice. I recognize that mask he wears, it’s the one I fell so hard for.
“Officers.” He nods at them. “What can I do for you? I apologize that the place is such a mess, we’re just starting to clean up after a friend’s birthday.”
Officer Love shrugs, looking at Caleb suspiciously, and Officer Holt smiles tightly and says, “Not a problem, Mr. Grant.”
Caleb shoots her a winning smile. “Call me, Caleb, if it’s easier.”
She smiles again, and this time it’s more genuine. I hang just behind Caleb and Nakia, who both sit down on chairs across from the police. Officer Holt is looking a little more relaxed, and I frown. Can she be succumbing to Caleb’s façade? She can’t possibly buy the fake charm, can she? Officer Love glares at Caleb. “We’re here to look into the disappearance of Breanne Morgan. Her parents claim that the last people who saw her...” he jabs a finger in the air towards them, “...are you two. Is this true?”
YOU ARE READING
Shoot Me Down
Horror"I am going to haunt you forever." That's the promise that Breanne makes her killer. He cannot dump her body in the river and simply have his crime washed away. The detectives assigned to her case can't seem to pin anything on him, and her parents a...
