A Nearly Normal Family(81)

“I’m not feeling well. I think I need to leave too.”

Both Chris and Amina looked at me in concern.

“Should I come with you?” Chris asked.

“No, stay here with Amina. I’ll bike home and go to bed.”

I gave him a quick peck and hugged Amina.

“You sure?” she said.

“Sorry,” I replied.

The fresh air did me good. My head didn’t feel as heavy any longer and I felt new strength in my legs as I biked home through town. After two Tylenol and a Hydralyte, I collapsed in bed with my phone and was out like a light.



* * *



I woke up because my pillow was vibrating; I flew up and tracked down my phone, which had slipped between the headboard and the mattress.

“Hello?”

Amina was gasping on the other end.

“I have to tell you something.”

“What’s going on?”

“I went home with Chris.”

I felt a stab of pain in my chest. What did she mean?

“It just happened. We shared a taxi. I forgot I had my bike at Tegnérs.”

She took a breath. My heart was pounding.

“Did anything happen?” I asked.

“No, no, nothing.”

“Nothing?”

I flopped back down on my pillow.

“Of course nothing happened. What the hell did you think?”

“No, of course not.”

“I just wanted to tell you I went home with him.”

I said something about how that was just fine, no problem, nothing had happened.

I had made up my mind to end things with Chris. But now I wasn’t so sure.

“Are you feeling better?” Amina asked.

“I think so.”

I checked the time. Four thirty in the morning.

“Now get home and into bed before Dino starts to worry.”

Amina laughed nervously.

“He’s already called twice.”

“Talk tomorrow. Love you.”

Five percent battery. I found the charger on the floor and was just about to plug it in when I realized I had a new text from a number I didn’t recognize.

Please, stay away from Chris. He’s dangerous.





72


I wake in a cold sweat, no idea what time it is. It might be before midnight, or almost morning. In here, the passage of time means nothing.

Something is chasing after me. I vault out of bed and spin around the room. The smell is just as pungent, just as strong as when I first arrived.

I pound hysterically on the locked door as terrifying images press into my mind. So true to life that the boundary between dream and reality is erased.

“Let me out!” I roar at the door, still beating at it although my fists throb and ache.

In my mind I see Chris’s blood-drenched body on the ground. How it jerks and writhes even as fresh blood pumps from the cuts in his stomach.

“Open the door!”

I bang my forehead against the hard metal and sink to my knees as my fingernails tear desperately at the door.

At last the hatch slides open and a frightened eye stares down at me. It’s Elsa.

“Help,” I croak.

I’m drowning. My body just keeps sinking even though I’m already in a pile on the floor. I force my way upward and reach out my arms, but the air is too thick. It’s like trying to swim in cement.

“Mom! Mom!”

Elsa orders me to back away from the door and slowly I manage to crawl away as I hear Elsa calling for help.

I lie on my back and stare up at the ceiling as they examine me. Their voices are far away, like faint whispers in the distance.

The image of Chris dying comes back over and over. That pulsating, bloody body on the ground.

A medic slaps my face. I explain that I’m having trouble breathing, that there’s something wrong with my throat. He brings a glass of water to my lips, but most of it ends up running down my chin and cheek. He gets help from a guard to sit me up.

There are several strange hands in my face. Rubber gloves feeling inside my mouth. Someone shoves two pills into me and says I’m going to sleep.

“No!” I roar, flailing my limbs.

Sleep is dangerous. I don’t want to go back there.

“I don’t want to!” I scream.

They’re behind me, restraining me.

I take a deep breath and hold it. I can actually feel the oxygen streaming into my blood and my pulse starts to calm down.

I see Elsa, backed into the corner and trembling, looking like a lost child.

“The police,” I manage to say. “I want to talk to the police.”

I don’t know what I’m going to tell them: the whole truth, part of the truth, or something that has nothing at all to do with the truth. I just know I need to talk. I have to tell, before I explode.





73


Chris wanted to come over to my house.

I want to see how you live, he texted. I’d love to meet your parents too, but maybe we should hold off on that. Anyway, it’ll be perfect since they’re off on their trip.

I looked around. Clothes, bags, and random objects were strewn all over. The kitchen smelled like something had died in there and I had built a mountain of underwear and tank tops in the laundry room.