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“Did you think you could punch me with no retribution?” Tori hisses as she comes to my head, squatting down.
I buck, Josefina lets go of my wrist and Tori grabs them. A slap comes to my face. I feel the sting, the lingering heat. “Stop moving, bitch,” she hisses out.
“Get off me!” I scream, bucking some more. I won’t go down without a fight.
Wire bites into my wrists.
I am being lifted by the two of them. Tori at my head, Josefina at my feet.
My body launches into the air before I am thrown into water. The sound around me is distant and disoriented. My body sinks. I shake around, trying to swim.
I continue to sink.
My vision is blurry as I look up. Images of Tori and Josefina wave with the ripples of the water.
My lungs burn and squeeze in my chest, wanting to expand. I feel like my insides are exploding.
Panic seeps in. They say you’re fight or flight, but what if you’re both?
I thrash my body. Willing the wire to break and free me. I did not go through what I had for it to end this way.
I pull at my hands. The wire bites into my flesh, causing pain to sting the area.
I wanted to scream. To beg. I wanted to live.
God, I just want to live. The things that once seemed so important now seem minuscule. All the times I panicked over nothing seem ridiculous. Such small things when, in the end, it doesn’t matter. I try getting my belly to roll. Hoping maybe it will make me move up. Like when I was a kid and pretended I was a mermaid, only swimming with the lower half of my body.
I try moving my feet, but the wire that I thought was only around my ankles is snaked around, squeezing my feet.
My mouth opens, water rushing in. I can’t choke it up. I can’t move. I can’t fucking breathe.
So, what if you fight and it’s not enough? What if the fight is sometimes giving up?
Acceptance sets in. My mind shifts, rolling through my short life. When I pictured what I would see before I die, I always imagined a rapid slide picture of all the terror. Instead, Jordan smiles at me. Dancing around our room at the group home. Her smiling eyes when she shows me her engagement ring. Her holding me when I got accepted into college. All these small moments I took for granted.
And then I think of him.
Branson winking. Our first kiss. For such a short amount of time, he sure did make an impact. I wanted to conjure up a what-if life for us. But my mind is too busy protecting me from my reality. Like it had done so many times before.
His soft smile is the last thing I see.
* * *
I’m coughing. Light is shining in my eyes. I can breathe.
The sound is amplified. “Look at me, Strawberry.” I follow the voice, landing on Tucker. He sighs, resting his head on mine. I hear shouting and look the other way.
Branson is in Briggs's face. “Were you going to let her fucking die?”
Briggs takes a step back, shaking her head. “Of course not, it was just good footage.”
Branson kicks a chair, and it goes flying. “Fuck your footage! She could have died. Can you get that through your fucking head? Then what would you have done? That should have never been allowed to happen!” He paces before his eyes come to me. He lets out a breath, walking over to me.
His hands run through my wet hair gently despite the anger that is etched on his face. Tucker is lying next to me now with his hand on his stomach, looking to the sky. His other hand locks with mine and I squeeze it tightly.
“Are you okay, Darling?” My focus moves back to Branson. I nod. I don’t feel like I can speak. My throat is raw, and my lungs burn when I breathe.
I have a million questions, but they all stop when Branson gently picks me up. Cradling me into the house, up the stairs, until we are in my room.
