It wasn’t what I envisioned my life to be like, but sometimes, paths shift to make way for better options.
I push the paper back inside and toss the notebook onto the table. My decision is made, and there’s no reason to involve anyone other than me and the scholarship board. Monday morning, I’ll inform them of my choice to decline the offer.
In the meantime, other pressing matters need my attention, something that I have firmly set my mind to and refuse to tell a soul about.
If I’m going to make it there and back on foot, I need to get a move on it.
* * *
The walk is refreshing, considering Johnny and I have spent a lot of our days outside of classes cooped up in the house either studying or having incredible sex. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining, but sometimes a little alone time with some fresh air does the body good.
Part of me thought that the fifteen-minute trek across town would clear my head, maybe knock some sense into me, but if anything, it solidified my rationale. I cannot continue to sit by and do nothing about what happened.
Today is my birthday, and there are only a few things I truly want, one of them being potentially in my control.
The automatic doors greet me, opening wide to grant me access. I go straight through the main entrance and turn to go down the long hall. The lights buzz and various machines beep in the background. I don’t bother stopping to ask for approval or directions. There’s something about faking confidence that really makes people not think twice about a random person being where they potentially shouldn’t be.
I follow the signs posted and have no trouble locating the exact place I’m looking for. Ladies in various colored scrubs float by me and pay no mind to my being here.
I scan the last names written on dry erase boards outside the patient rooms until I find him.
Thomas, G.
Stepping into his sterile space, I’m welcomed by the computer screens beeping and recording Griffin’s vitals. There are IVs hooked to him and cords running all over.
My chest tightens and the room seems to shrink in on me.
I walk closer, my shadow casting a darkness over him. It’s strange for the roles to be reversed, him being the vulnerable one for a change. For so long, it’s been him towering over me, controlling me, keeping his thumb pressed tightly against every single thing I did. It was subtle at first, and it came across like sweet thoughtful gestures that tricked me into thinking he cared. When in reality, it was all part of his sick game.
And I wasn’t the first person he had done it to.
Griffin never mentioned the police reports and charges filed against him. Probably because he paid to have the victims drop them so he could pretend nothing ever happened and move on to his next target.
I take in the blond hair matted to his forehead. At one point, I was attracted to him, but now, all I can feel is disgust.
How is it possible he was able to convince so many people he was good? How did he become such a master manipulator?
“You stole a part of me I'll never get back,” I whisper to his barely hanging on body. "My innocence. You duped me, Griff. You mentally beat me down until I had no choice but to cling to whatever you gave me. You tricked me into thinking I wasn't good enough. That what we had was normal, healthy.” I shake my head. “You convinced me that love was this painful thing—that to get it, I had to sacrifice everything I was. You hurt me in ways I don't think I'll ever fully wrap my head around. You were this cruel and twisted part of my life, draining my soul with each second we were together.”
He remains there, unmoving, unfazed by my truth.
“You tortured me, Griffin. And it’s going to take me a long time to recover from everything you did. But I’ll be damned if I ever allow you to control me ever again. Today is the day the dynamic shifts. It’s my turn.” I reach into my pocket, settling on the hard plastic. My way to guarantee he never lays a hand on me.
I glance over my shoulder at the closed door. There are no windows, no sign of outside life other than the faint noise of people passing by. Only me, Griffin, and the decision I’ve already made.
With Johnny at the court hearing, Griffin is no longer a threat to him. Don’t get me wrong, I’d do absolutely anything for Johnny, but this? This is for me.
My heart picks up its pace, but I'm not sure if it's nerves or uncertainty or the power I finally have over this sick fuck boy.
I lean over, my silhouette consuming him. I steal a tissue from the holder next to the bed, and inch my hand forward. Using my knuckle, I prop his mouth open in the slightest. I spin the cap off the unassuming bottle and take one final breath.
I half-expect a wave of something to come over me. For my conscience to alert me that I’m making a terrible mistake. But that doesn’t come. If anything, there’s a surge of reassurance that I’m doing what needs to be done to confirm I’m the last person Griffin will ever hurt.
I tilt the bottle, allowing a few drops to fall onto Griffin’s inner lip. I inch his head up and drain what’s left of the container into his mouth, careful not to let any spill out. I keep hold of his chin while the liquid absorbs and use my free hand to secure the bottle safely into my pocket.
The Dateline episode I watched a year ago didn’t really give specifics on a fatal dosage or how quickly it worked, probably for liability reasons. But I recall without a doubt how incredibly lethal this everyday item was, and when I saw it, sitting there plain as day in my mom’s medicine cabinet, I knew what I had to do.
I relax my grip on his face and let him return to how I found him, only now, a deadly dose of tetrahydrozoline is seeping into his body. Completely undetectable on a normal toxicology report.
I crumble the tissue and shove it in alongside the bottle. “Goodbye, Griffin.”
Without giving him another second, I turn my back on Griffin for what I hope will be the last time. A newfound power builds within me as I reassure myself that everything is going to be okay now.