Chapter 2
The darkness did not bring peace,
it brought a heavy,
throbbing stillness that dragged me down into deep waters.
When consciousness slowly seeped back into my limbs,
the first thing I felt was a thick rubber tube shoved down my throat.
It gagged me,
forcing rhythmic pumps of air into my chest with a mechanical hiss.
Hiss. Click. Woosh.
The sound was hypnotic,
unforgiving,
and terrifying.
I could not open my eyes fully,
my eyelids felt as though they were glued shut with lead.
However,
my hearing was painfully sharp.
The steady beep of the heart monitor beside my bed was slow and fragile.
Just beyond the heavy glass door of the Intensive Care Unit,
voices were raised in a heated,
hushed argument.
"You were supposed to make sure she didn't drink the whole flask,"
a sharp,
familiar voice hissed.
It was Uncle Ray.
"Shut up,
Ray,"
my mother snapped back,
her tone dripping with panic and venom.
"The doctors are already asking questions,"
she whispered,
the rustle of her jacket audible through the thin partition.
"They found chemical residue in her blood work,"
she continued,
her voice trembling with an emotion that sounded less like grief and more like terror.
"If they call the police,
Ray,
we are both ruined."
My heart spiked on the monitor,
causing the machine to beep faster and higher.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
"Calm down,
Diane,"
Ray grunted,
his footsteps pacing back and forth on the linoleum floor.
"She’s just a dramatic kid,"
he insisted,
trying to convince himself.
"She’s had stomach issues for months,"
he said,
"we just tell the cops she took the wrong dosage of her supplement."
"She didn't take supplements,
Ray!"
Mom argued,
her voice dropping to a dangerous,
shaky whisper.
"You put it in her protein powder,"
she said,
"you told me it would just make her sick enough to miss her college entrance exams!"
"You said we needed her home for another year so we could keep collecting the trust fund payments from her father's estate!"
My breath hitched against the plastic ventilator tube.
A tear squeezed past my swollen eyelid,
hot and burning against my temple.
They hadn't just neglected me,
they had poisoned me.
My own mother had allowed her brother to poison my food for money.
The door handle rattled suddenly,
and the hushed voices cut off instantly.
I heard the heavy,
grounded footsteps of my stepfather,
Daniel,
approaching the room.
"What are you two whispering about out here?"
Daniel demanded,
his deep voice full of suspicion and anger.
"Nothing,
Daniel,"
Mom replied smoothly,
her tone shifting instantly into a pitiful,
sobbing mask.
"We’re just beside ourselves with worry,"
she whimpered,
sniffling loudly.
"The doctor said her liver and lungs are failing,"
she added,
"and we don't know why our sweet girl is suffering like this."
"Save it,
Diane,"
Daniel said coldly.
"I saw the way you looked at her when she collapsed at the sink,"
he continued,
May you like
his boots clicking against the floor as he pushed the ICU door open.
"You cared more about the shattered glass than her life."
