When You Reach Me

Dear Lily, 

I’ve loved you ever since that first day. During the mourning of the autumn leaves, right before the winter sky turned gray. Do you think about me when the stillness of life is insufferable? Or is that experience only one I keep? 

When we were young, I followed your footprints in the sand until they led me to your house. You had a white ribbon in your hair and cheeks that flushed red while your father opened the door. I picked daisies from my garden and put them in a vase. And when I handed them to you, he threw them away. 

I didn’t understand why you were always so anxious; we were only just two kids in love. You sat at the back of Miss Rubin’s class and chewed your fingers till they bled. I attended that same class on the very last day and you were gone. Miss Rubin said you moved away. 

And now we’ll meet again, except you probably won’t know who I am. You don’t understand what I’ve been through, trying so hard just to find you. And it’s fine, Lily. Really, it’s fine. I wouldn’t have it any other way. Because I’d do it over and over again, even when the world seems to be working against us. 

Lily, you’re standing over there with your gorgeous auburn hair and I don’t quite know how to feel. I want to pretend that we are still good friends, maybe lovers even, but I’m scared we won’t make it to the end. 

Always,

August

At 6:30 at night, I stand outside the tallest building on Madison Ave. And I fold the letter into the hidden compartment of my briefcase, like I do with the rest of them. Then, like a hawk stalking its prey, I stand by the sidewalk and wait. 

In first grade, we were on the playground when a car sped by. We heard the sound of bones crunching beneath a tire and all of us turned our heads to the street. Blood splattered onto the sidewalk just barely grazing the fence. Intestines were spread out like a bouquet of roses on the hot pavement, all while Lily stood over the carcass of a squirrel. Expressionless. 

No one else knew how she got there so quickly, but when Miss Rubin called her name, instead of running away, she slowly got down on her knees. The dainty ruffles on her socks around her ankles absorbed the little splotches of red. She tilted her head slightly but refused to take her eyes off what was left of the dead squirrel. The other girls were bawling their eyes. Their delicate fingers hooked around the chain-link fence as they cried. 

But not my Lily. Her hand was within a hair’s breadth from the squirrel’s splintered face and before she could touch it, Miss Rubin instantly grabbed her away. 

I think about that moment often. Her pale blue eyes never once lifted from the massacred body, even as Miss Rubin’s hand wrapped around her wrist and dragged her back behind the fence. 

And now I’m staring at her in the distance. Her phone is to her ear as she reaches for the rotating glass door to step outside her office building. I know exactly what train she will get on–the 8 PM train from Grand Central station to Manhasset. I know this, because I’ve been following her for eight months and sixteen days. 

I’ll get on the train a few seconds before her and she will never realize it and I’ll step off a few moments after her and little Lily will remain so obviously oblivious. Then, like her footprints in the sand, I’ll follow her vanilla amber cologne that lingers in the air all the way to her house on Hemlock Road. 

I’ll knock on her neighbor’s door to pick up their dog for a walk–a recent occupation, I specifically picked up to look less suspicious–and with the leash in one hand, I’ll peer into Lily’s window.  

I’ll watch as she undresses and slips into a white satin robe and I’ll watch as she plops on her bed and texts some strange new meathead man to come over. This is her ritual on Fridays. She’ll go on a dating app, swipe right, then take him to bed. 

And I’ll watch her shut the curtains, but I’ll still be able to see the dark cast of her silhouette with her legs spilling across his chest and his hands grasping onto the bars of her bed frame, until it’s over and they’ll lay together motionless. She'll watch him as he sleeps.

Oh, my innocent darling Lily, what was it that corrupted you? I will purge it from your suffering soul.

I wait outside Lily’s office building today at 6:37, the exact time she usually leaves. But this time things will be different. I’ve schemed this out for months now and I’m finally taking charge. 

Lily, my love, when you reach me tonight, I will dare to make you mine.

Lily, my angel, I worship you. I see you across the street and I’m walking towards you as you step onto the painted white rectangles. 

“Oh god! I am so sorry, let me help you with that,” I say, as we both crouch over the various items that fell from her bag. 

“No–no, it’s not your fault. I can be so clumsy sometimes,” Lily says.

“You look really familiar. Do I know you from somewhere? What’s your name? I swear 

I’ve seen you before,” I say, casually. 

“Hm, possibly. Lily Abrams.” She reaches out her hand to shake mine. 

“Lily…Lily… Oh! I know you! No way… We went to the same elementary school. It’s me, August Bennet.” 

I open my arms in pretend disbelief as she nears closer and wraps her hands around me. She may look surprised, but I know she remembers who I am. She must. 

“Auggie!? I can’t believe it. You really haven’t changed a bit, I don’t know why I didn’t recognize you.” 

We stand there on the sidewalk, playing catch up until I suggest we go to a bar–her favorite, but I tell her it’s mine–the one on Vanderbilt Ave. She usually goes on Thursday nights where she orders a Negroni as she waits for her blonde, big-boned friend with the obnoxious voice to enter. 

Lily can’t make it tonight, something about a project she has to complete by morning. But it’s fine, she gave me her number, and I called with her standing next to me to make sure it rang.

“I’m sorry I can’t grab a drink with you right now, but would you want to on Friday when I get off from work?” “–Actually, I work really close by. See that building over there?” Lily points to the exact building I’ve been scouting for the past months. We agree to meet at the bar around 7. 

When I get home, I turn on the lights and inspect around. There’s an opened pizza box from three nights ago splayed on the coffee table with green cheese rotting at its corners. The walls are stained yellow and a brown leak lurks in the ceiling where water drips onto the stove. I need to make my place neat for Lily, but then I remember it doesn’t matter. She will never see this part of our house. Because she’ll live in the basement.

I prepare the basement bedroom with everything I need to make her feel comfortable. I place the supermarket daisies I bought on the way home in a vase with fresh water on the cabinet.

The thick wooden bedroom door is the hardest to remove. But as soon as it clinks off the frame, I replace it with a steel security door and drill a padlock onto the outside. There is only one key, and it’s mine, just like Lily will be this Friday.

I take the bathroom door off its hinges and rip off the shower curtain. In this house, we won’t need privacy.

I set all the beauty products she uses on an antique silver tray and position it on her new nightstand. Then I fluff the duvet on her new bed. The mist of the perfume sprays over the sheets and I devour every droplet as I close my eyes and drift asleep on her cold covers. 

Today is the day, and I’ve never felt more alive. I park the car around the corner and secure the ketamine injection in my briefcase beside the letters. And when I sit down at the bar, my leg won’t stop shaking. I can’t wait to show Lily her new space. I’m sure it will take time for her to adjust, but once she realizes how much I love her, she will never want to leave again. 

There she is, and she looks beautiful as ever. Her hair is pulled back into a tight bun with untamed strands framing her apple face. She’s wearing a white button-down dress with red flats. Her cheeks touch the Greek gods when she smiles at me. And I feel every inch of her lovely soul creep into my nearly forgotten bones. 

I plant a soft kiss below her eye as I greet her. And like the gentleman I am, I pull the barstool out and push it in as she sits down. I order us two Negronis and begin our conversation with memories from elementary. 

“Do you remember when your dad yelled at us because we threw rocks at that bendy tree behind your house?”

“Of course I remember. I told you I was pretending it was Miss Rubin's face,” she smirks. 

She misses a detail, though. That night, while standing under the tree and telling each other secrets, she kissed me. And not the way innocents should kiss. She kissed me like she knew what she was doing and I remembered wanting to take away all her pain, whatever it was that haunted her, I wanted to protect her. 

“How’s he doing, by the way?–your dad I mean. I forgot to ask.” 

Lily takes a long sip from her Negroni, leaving a stamp of her red lipstick on the rim of the glass. 

“He’s dead.” 

“Oh, I’m so sorry. Wow, that must be hor–”

“No, don’t be. He was a shitty father. He died on my eighteenth birthday. Yeah, The stupid fuck fell off a ladder trying to fix our roof,” Lily chuckles. 

She circles the edge of the glass with her fingertip, shaping smiley faces out of the condensation. 

I pay for our bill and place my briefcase on the barstool. I excuse myself to the restroom and splash my face with cool water while staring into my reflection. My dark eyes are sunken deep into their sockets. I slick back the sweat on my forehead into my oily black hair. My hands grasp the borders of the ceramic sink. 

“You can do this, August. You’ve been waiting for this moment your whole life.” 

When I walk back to Lily, she’s already at the exit, a cigarette in one hand and my briefcase in the other. 

“Do you want to come back to my place? I feel like we have so much more to catch up on,” I say. She stares at me and I can’t quite read her face. Then she pulls a drag from her cigarette and hands me my briefcase. 

“I want to, but I can’t. I have my cat at home and I have to feed him. But would you want to come to mine?” 

Unexpected, but I can handle this. If anything, this is better because it will give me more time to think and I can make sure to pack some of her clothes, she’ll definitely need them. And I can just let the cat outside, it won’t be an inconvenience. 

“Of course! My car is just around there.” 

When Lily unlocks her front door, and we step inside, immediately a gray cat orbits around her calves. I bend down to pet it.

“And who’s this little baby?” 

I look up at Lily and she’s laughing hysterically, but I’m pretty certain I’ve missed the joke. Within a split second, she pulls her hand from behind her back and between her fingers is the needle that I swore was tucked away in my briefcase. 

Before I could let out a single word, her arm juts forward into my neck. I squeal as the sharp, slender steel releases its potent chemical into my body. 

I’m awake. My arms are fanned out like eagle wings across a bed. Except they’re enclosed by metal cuffs attached to the furthest bars on both sides of the bed frame. I look down and my clothes are nowhere to be found. I try to pull away, but the handcuffs cling to my skin. The metals screech as I vigorously rub them against each other. I try to move my legs and bend my knees closer to my chest, but they are entwined together in the knotted sheet. As a last resort of getting freed, I scream.

“Lily!” I shout. 

“Lily! Please! We need to talk. Lily!” 

I hear a swift scratch from the inside of the pitch black closet and classical music starts to fill the room. It’s difficult to lift my head from this angle, but I try my best to keep focused on the closet. 

I see the silky texture of Lily’s robe first and then she appears. Her forearm rests on the frame. 

“Auggie, guess what I found?” 

From under the bed, she pulls out my briefcase and slaps it on the edge of the mattress. All my letters scatter onto the dark wood floor. 

“Lily, can we just talk about this? I think there’s been some kind of miscommunication.” 

She scoffs and gathers the letters into her hands. She turns around and walks a few steps further from the bed. Then she begins to read them. 

“Dear Lily, I always knew you were the one I needed to keep.”

“Dear Lily, your butterfly wings are a sin, but I will take them from you and set you free. Not as far as the sea, you must always belong to me.” 

“Dear Lily, I bought you ribbons so I can pull them from your hair and watch as you bleed. Did you know we’re moving into my house today, darling?”

She flips through each one as they progressively get more intense. I can’t take it anymore. I almost feel... ashamed? Maybe it’s embarrassment. This isn’t the Lily I know. 

“Lily, look I’m a writer, you–you just have the same name as one of the characters. Please, Lily. Please, just uncuff me so we can sort all of this out.” 

“Okay,” she says. 

“Okay?”

“Yes. I’m going to uncuff you. But first let’s play a game."

Lily moves toward the window and shuts the curtain. She delicately sets each letter down on the mattress until they’re ringed around me like a halo. She bends down at the end of the bed to where I can’t see her. Despite the anesthetic, my adrenaline kicks in and I squirm trying to get free.

The sheets writhe even tighter around my ankles. Lily stands up and slowly crawls her way onto the bed. She binds her legs around my torso and squeezes with her inner thighs. 

“Fuck! Lily, you’re hurting me!” 

“Shh, shh. I said it’s gonna be okay, Auggie.”

Lily stoops her face close to mine until our noses are mere millimeters away from touching.  

“Please, Lily. I love you. I love you, Lily and I still do… We can make this work.” 

“You love me so much that you would chain me up inside your basement?” 

“There would be no chains, Lily. It wouldn’t be that way.” 

“Yes, of course. I’m sorry. I meant, you would lock me up inside a room in your basement.”

“I wouldn’t, Lily. I’m sorry, please. Just let me go. What are you even planning on doing? Murder me?” 

She smirks and reaches her arm under the side of the mattress. 

“What are you doing? What is that, Lily?” 

“You’re fucking crazy!” Tears stream down my face. 

“Relax, I’m clipping your wings. Right? You’re my butterfly. My sin.” 

She pulls open the nightstand drawer with her free hand and jingles the keys in front of me. Then she pulls something else out. A long, thin sharp-edged blade is encapsulated inside her curled fingers. 

“Woah..Woah… Lily, this is insane. Please enough. I want to go home.” 

“Shh… Shh.” She presses her index finger to her lips then places it on mine. The keys attached to the keyring rotate around her pinky. 

“What’s going on, Lily?” 

She puts the blade to my neck and I feel my death. Lily fits the key inside the lock of one cuff and then I realize I’m released. 

“If you move, I won't hesitate to kill you,” she says softly. 

She switches to my next wrist and twists the key. I lie there trembling as she swiftly kicks the sheets off my feet while keeping eye contact. The blade is still slanted across my neck as she leans her chest towards me. 

I close my eyes expecting the end. This is how I am going to die. 

But I feel her lips slowly pressing against my ear as she whispers, “Run.”