BANG. I closed my eyes at the sound of gunfire but then opened them immediately to learn my fate. Did I lose the love of my life, my savior, or my father who had caused me so much pain? My eyes travelled to both figures that stood facing each other. My father’s eyes bulged and his body bent forward more, he was cradling his stomach. Andrew stood with wide eyes, a gun still in his hand pointed at my father. My father cried out in pain and grabbed onto the wall for support, but he quickly fell to the ground and red seeped through his shirt.
“I love you” I whispered to Andrew from the floor. He snapped out of his trance and walked over to my father, retrieved his gun, and left him there gasping for breath. Andrew came over to me and picked me up off the floor, cradling me in his arms.
“I love you too, Kim. I love you too.” He kissed my forehead and guided my head to his chest. I looked over at the dying man who I used to call dad. His eyes were shut and his hands slowly stopped moving, but I didn’t cry for him. He never cried for me.
We could hear footsteps outside on the deck; all the workers had heard the gun fire. Andrew put me down and we walked out onto the deck. All the workers were standing with weapons, knives, bats, poles from on the ship. “It’s Andrew and Kim… it’s okay.” We heard one man say and then slowly all the workers appeared with weapons. They had figured it was them next if my father had his way.
“They’re dead…” Andrew said and put his arm around me. I stared at the floor because I didn’t want to see their faces. I knew they were relieved, but I still felt uneasy. What happens now? Everyone on board was silent for a while and the ship continued to sail further and further north. We were headed for New York, with two dead men, and 1 suspected kidnapper.
“I just called the police; they are waiting on shore when we get there…” One guy said and my blood pressure shot through the roof. “WHAT? What did you tell them?” I screamed at him, trying to run over and punch him but Andrew grabbed me around the waist and pulled me back. The guys eyes widened and he rubbed his hands on his pants, sweaty palms. “I said that Andrew shot Chuck and you’re father, in self-defense…” He whispered and I looked to Andrew’s face. He just sat there staring straight ahead.
“That’s true, but the police might not believe me, a convicted felon who murdered the boss on his first week. His boss that is a millionaire…” He put his head in his hands and breathed deeply. I took my hand and placed it on his knee. “We’ll all be asked questions Andrew, and every single one of us knows that you didn’t murder them… You saved us.” I said and looked around at the circle of people. At the beginning of the week we were all strangers, but now we were bound together by such a horrible event.
Minutes past and the sun rose in the sky. The New York harbor was waiting for us, along with many cops. The boat docked and immediately the cops rushed onboard, separating us, and searching the ship. The police questioned every single worker, Andrew, and me. The only people they couldn’t question were my father and Chuck. All of our stories were consistent, Andrew had shot Chuck when Chuck ran in with a gun, then my father stole that gun and that’s when Andrew had to shot him as well.
The police took Andrew away in handcuffs and I wanted to cry. They were still charging him with murder and he would sit in jail.
I put my hands behind my back and waited for that usual feeling of handcuffs around my wrists. This was something I had been through before, the cops knew that. But this was the first time it had happened and there was someone there watching who cared about me. I tried not to look at Kim, because I didn’t want to see those beautiful eyes crying again. I kept my head down as the cop walked me over to the patrol car.
I watched the police car drive away with Andrew when I heard a familiar voice. “KIM” My mother yelled and threw her arms around me, sobbing deeply. “Kim, I’m never letting you out of my sight. First, you’re kidnapped, and now this…” She hugged me but it felt awkward. I didn’t want her hugs. I didn’t want her comfort. “Kim, what’s wrong? Do you need something, a coffee or a cup of tea?” I just stared at her. NO. I need Andrew; I need his hugs, his comfort. I shook my head and asked if we could just go home. She nodded her head and brought me over to her Mercedes.
I walked into the familiar mansion and felt more alone than I ever have. There were paparazzi outside of the house, waiting and watching. My mother had not said a word about my father; I assumed she was a bit relieved too. I went into my room and fell onto the mattress. Andrew wasn’t so lucky, he was in a jail cell somewhere.
“Kim…Can we talk?” I heard my mother from the doorway and I pretended to be asleep. “Kim, we need to talk about this.” She was persistent and came over to my bed and shook my shoulders. My eyes shot open at her touch and I felt this rage building inside of me. “What. What do you want me to say?” I said to her and she looked taken aback at my anger.
“The cops said it would be good for you to talk about this traumatic experience…” I winced at her words and sat straight up in bed. “TRAUMATIC EXPERIENCE? My whole life was nothing but one traumatic experience after another!” I screamed at the top of lungs and she just stared at me, not knowing what to say because she knew exactly what I was talking about. “That man was a monster; he was nothing but a disgusting, abusive, and controlling child predator! This ‘traumatic experience’ was a gift from the heavens” I yelled at her with my chest heaving, my fists balled up.
“Kim, it wasn’t all bad. We both have all the luxuries life can offer and you will be taken care of your whole life.” She said that as if it was supposed to make me forgive her, excuse for failure as my mother and protector, excuse her total disregard for my well-being. I glared at her and tried to hold back my tears. I didn’t want to cry in front of the enemy. “I don’t give a fuck about this house, your car, my car, or the designer clothes on my back. I needed you and you weren’t there for me! YOU LET HIM DO THAT TO ME!” The tears could not be held back and I sobbed into my fists. I turned my back on her and then I felt her hands grab me from behind.
“Do you think you’re the first girl this has happened to… I dealt with it too.” I stared into her tear filled eyes and could see some kind of emotion in my mother again. I slapped her across the face with all my might, how dare she mock me. “What do you mean? SAY SOMETHING” I screamed at her because she had fallen into silence. “My father did the same thing to me, but without the wealth. I always thought the stuff he could provide for us would make up for everything…” I didn’t feel sympathy for her, I felt pity for her. What kind of a mother can let the same thing tear her child apart that once tore herself apart…
I ran from the room and threw everything in my sight. The vases in the house, the paintings on the wall, and books on the shelves I threw on the floor. I screamed at the top of my lungs going through the whole house, and no one came after me. No one tried to stop me.
I collapsed onto the marble floor, crying and sobbing until my tears ran dry. I pulled at my hair, punched my legs, screamed until my throat hurt.
Several weeks passed of the same thing. I went to see a therapist, school, and then home. My mother had forbid me to go to see the man who ‘murdered’ my father, Andrew. I tried to call the prison, but no one will let me talk to him. I tried writing him letters, but my mother rips them up when she sees the address. The cops who come to the house only ask me questions; they never answer mine, probably from request on my mother’s part.
“You know I hate you right?” I said venomously one morning before school. She looked at me with a blank stare. “The trial is in one week, but I don’t want you to go there.” My mouth hung open, but I thought better than to flip out on her. “Fine, I guess you know what’s right for me.” I smiled at her and she just rolled her eyes. My house had been filled with nothing but tension, anger, and police for the past 6 weeks.
“Lexy wants to hang out at the mall this Friday, can I go?” I asked hoping she couldn’t tell I was lying. “Friday after school?” I nodded. “I want to feel normal again, please?” I asked and she just sighed. “Fine, but I want you home before dark.” She gave me a stern glare and I just smiled as big as I could. This Friday I was going to go see Andrew for the first time in 6 weeks!
I stared at the ceiling of my jail cell for hours every day, studying the crevices and cracks. It was all I could do to keep from going insane. The only people who visited me were lawyers with bad news. The only letters I got were from Kim…
I’ve been seeing a therapist and now everything makes sense to me. I’m sorry I lead you on, and made you think that I liked you. Being back in the real world made me realize that I don’t want you. I’m really sorry that it had to be like this, but I won’t be going to your trial. I couldn’t bare to look at you after what you put me through…
I read that letter over and over again, cursing myself to sleep every night. How dumb could I be to think a rich, beautiful girl like that would want to be with me after she got back to normal life. All she needed me for was survival and protection, and now that I cannot be of use to her she wants nothing to do with me… I sat in my jail cell dreaming about her day and night, until I got a second letter.
Time has given me a chance to heal, and now I am so mad. How could you do this to me? How could you kidnap me, lie to the cops, and then expect me to take up for you. You are pathetic and I hate you. I never want to speak to you ever again, don’t try to contact me when you get, IF YOU GET OUT.
After spending 6 weeks in jail for this girl, THIS is how she treats me. She hates me. She never wants to speak to me ever again. Fine. Fuck her. Fuck you Kim! I hit the weights every day after that. I wanted to make myself better; I needed to let out my anger. I needed for get rid of all this hate I had for the girl who once meant so much to me.
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