She was watching me back, a storm forming in her blue eyes. Then she said, softly, but with authority, “I made my own decisions. I opened the door and let her in. Me. That’s on me. I offered her wine. I wanted to cry on her shoulder. I wanted to talk to someone, and she was there. I knew it wasn’t right. It was in her eye. She wasn’t there, not in the right way, but I didn’t care. It was me. I didn’t want to die, but I am. I’m dead now. You’re not.”
I started to shake my head. This wasn’t about me. I didn’t need a
pep talk. I wanted to mourn my friend. I hadn’t mourned her yet.
“You’ve said your goodbyes.” Grace kept going. “I’ve heard them, in your heart. I know how torn up you are. I know how much pain you hold in. I understand more now than ever. You’ve been hurt so much so you lash out first to protect yourself. I get it. I do. And this is my time to apologize to you.”
I shook my head. She didn’t have to apologize. She already had. She had done nothing wrong.
She spoke anyway, “I abandoned you. You warned me about those girls. That they were only using me to get to you, and I chose them over you. Then I hurt you. I did what they wanted me to do, and it wasn’t worth it. Hurting another person is never worth it. For that,” her own tears were falling free, “I am so sorry. I was going to make it right between us. I was going make everything right and I was going to win back your trust. That was my plan. I missed you. I missed our friendship. I’m sorry, Sheldon. I’m the one who should be apologizing to you. I’m the one who is apologizing to you. Please forgive me, Sheldon. Please—”
A high-pitched voice, one edging close to the line of hysteria, laughed above my head.
I looked up, anger stirring. She had sent Grace away. A snarl formed on my lips. I didn’t care who this person was. Grace was gone. She’d been there, but vanished at the interruption. “Go awa—”
I stopped.
It was Maria.
Her hair was messy, standing up all over, with clumps of dried blood in it. She had a coat on, but underneath I could see that her clothes were ripped and streaked with dirt. Her entire neck was scraped and red. Dried and new blood coated it. And as she stood there, holding a knife, she wavered on her feet.
I stood slowly, and as I did, I could see her struggling. She blinked rapidly and shook her head, as if she couldn’t quite see me. She kept blinking and shaking her head, then clenched the knife tighter. She took one faltering step toward me, but paused, and waved back and forth.
“How’d you get in here?”
She smirked. A hoarse laugh came from her. “Sheer force of will. That’s how.”
I frowned.
“I sucked a dick, got a ride to the gate. That’s how I got here. Enough information for you?”
“Oh.”
“Oh?” She sneered at me. “Oh? That’s all you have to say to me.”
Did I? I shrugged. “I’ve been prepared for this scene since high school. It seems like people everywhere are trying to kill me, so yeah, I guess. You don’t scare me.” Was that what she wanted? “Did you want me to cower? Cry? Beg? Get on my knees and suck your dick? What? All of them? Which one? What exactly do you want from me?”
I moved forward, and she backed up.
Well.
That was different.
I moved again, and she backed up once more. Tilting my head to the side, I really took in the sight of her. Take away the knife, and she was weak. My nostrils flared as I identified that. She was on drugs, and she was the one who hadn’t prepared for this confrontation.
“What happened to you?”
She lifted the knife. A determined gleam entered her eyes, making her more focused and clearer. “I’m the one who asks the questions. Not you. Never you.” She looked around and lifted her nose in the air. “You’re here, hiding, in another man’s home when you have three men downstairs. They’re all concerned about you. Saying you’re in shock, but you don’t look shocked to me.” She gestured to the bed with the knife. “You’re the crazy one. You look calm, and when I snuck in here, you were talking to yourself. You were having a full conversation with yourself, even lifted your own hand like someone was there. You’re nuts. I’m not the crazy one. You are.”
She had a point, but it didn’t change the fact I was sober, and she was on something. She had the weapon, though. I started to look around. I needed a weapon. I needed something, at least.
“Oh no.” Her gleam kicked up a notch and the side of her mouth curved up. “Look at you.” She waved her knife in the air. “Remembered that I have the weapon, huh? You bitch.”
I kept quiet.
Maybe I was in shock. I should’ve been scared, but I wasn’t. She wasn’t even making my blood boil. Then I saw Grace behind her, and I let out a relieved sigh. She was back. She hadn’t left me.
Okay, yes. I was crazy. I was thankful a ghost had come to help me out. We both needed to head to the mental hospital.