Let Me Find My Voice

I kept my head down. My hair perfectly blanketed my face from the passing students' views. High school started out hard, especially losing my best friend. But I stopped caring when I—

I couldn’t force myself to admit the words out loud. Not to anyone. Not to my mother, who was always busy with work. Not to my friend since, well, we weren’t on speaking terms. I wanted to share my grief with them. But no matter how hard I tried, the words kept getting stuck in my throat, unwilling to budge.

So I kept them in my journal. It was a plain, black notebook that my sister got for me. The pages were filled to the brim with words. Everything I observed, dreamed, and wished for was in there.

Everything.

This was why stopping by my locker to switch out books, I came across a note stuck on the inside of the door that stopped me cold.

MISSING SOMETHING?

The note said in big, ugly caps. And that nagging feeling I had all day came back when I realized what exactly I was missing. The journal was gone.

Anxiety wrapped it's ugly fingers around my throat, making me choked out a small, strangled cry. The girls standing a few feet away cast a look at me. Judging me. I was used to the look. They scoffed and walked away, undoubtedly wanting to get as far away from me as possible.

Staring after them, I wondered what it would be like if I was less weird. Less of a burden and maybe someone people could hold a conversation with. I frustratedly slammed my locker shut and walked down the hallway. Someone out there had my journal and have already read through it. I just needed to get it back before something—

I stared in horror at the sight in front of me. The cafeteria's announcement bulletin board was plastered with an enlarged photo of a page in my notebook. I knew the look of it from anywhere with my neat cursive. The entry was an angry rant of Mikka.

"What the hell?" Tiff, the girl who scoffed at me earlier, stared at the image with a disgusted look on her face. Her friends wore similar expressions. "What a bitch." They didn't know it was me, yet the words still stung. I knew their remarks would be worse if they did know the truth.

Principal Markwell walked out of the office, his face red. "Jonah Gruff, my office. Now." I didn't notice it until now, but an all-too-familiar boy was snickering with his buddies holding my notebook. My notebook. I gasped. Jonah strutted toward Principle Markwell, not an ounce of worry on his perfectly handsome face. Anger simmered inside me. This boy should not have my notebook in his possession. Yet, there was nothing I could do but watch him disappear behind the office door.

I was glad I signed up for a study hall or else I wouldn't be able to hide in the library, knowing Jonah would head this way for his fourth period. There was absolutely no reason for me to know his schedule by heart.

But I did.

And much to my delight and horror, Jonah's smug face rounded the corner and immediately spotted me in my not-so-hidden-hiding spot. "Well." He said, opening the library door. Mrs. Grevitch was on a lunch break during this period. I glared at him, wanting to say many things—most of which weren't appropriate to say on school grounds anyway.

"Y'know. I've been curious. How is it that your sister's death," Jonah's cold blue eyes flashed. "Was covered up so...cleanly." He said it so blandly. Like the words weren't tearing him to pieces like they did to me.

"I- Y-" I choked out. Jonah looked amused.

"I read it, just so ya know. There were a lot of stories in there...especially about me," Jonah leaned closer toward me, which brought a wave of flashbacks that I didn't want to experience. His hands forced into my hair. His mouth on mine, hard and unwanted.

I forced myself back to reality and shoved him away. Jonah glowered, "Do you know what I can do with this, you bitch?" His voice was fast and menacing, but also barely above a whisper. "I can show the whole school what a weirdo you are and guess what-" Jonah scoffed. "They would all believe it. And you can't say a single damn thing to defend yourself."

I swallowed. He was right. I shut down when my sister died. But I wasn't someone who spoke up before either. That was all Cara. Brilliant, smart Cara who was always there for me. Yet somehow, I failed to do the same for her. "So here's what you're going to do. Meet me at my car tomorrow..." Jonah whispered the words in my ear. I felt tears streaking down my face. My weakness, out for the world to see. "Or else," Jonah uttered his last warning and left me alone in the library. I heard the click-click of Mrs. G's shoes and wasted no time getting out of there through the back entrance.

***

Mom was sitting at the kitchen island, staring at the nothingness in front of her. She did this a lot, now that Cara was gone. But she came back when seeing me at the door. "Brit." Mom gathered me into a hug. This was also a new thing, but I didn't hate it.

I didn't respond, just standing there soaking up her hug. Together we sat in silence with a plate of cookies and let our minds drift away. Cookies were Cara's favorite snack. And Mom always had them stocked in the kitchen. This was her way of grieving I soon realized after the funeral. Baking and being busy was her way to deal with the loss of her daughter.

Mom kissed me on the head and ran a hand through my hair. "My baby…" She trailed off. This was also an uncommon thing. But it irked me every time she did it. Like it was a reminder to her that wherever she went, Mom couldn't stop seeing Cara's face. She couldn't, though, every time she looked at me. Every morning when I look in the mirror. I see her, but I don't at the same time. Cara wore her hair short, which was why I was determined to grow it out. Cara smiled. I haven't cracked one in months. There was a world of difference between us, but we still had this...twinness to tie us together.

I climbed the stairs toward my room, after another hug from Mom. Purposefully avoiding my sister's room, I made my way to my desk and cracked open the journal; which Jonah was kind enough to return to me after saying he had taken a picture of every page. There was a jagged line where he tore the paper to put on the cafeteria's screen today. But relief poured over me when I saw that no harm had come to the other entries, especially the few ones Cara penned in herself. I fell asleep to her retellings of our Caribbean adventures. It felt like she there curled up on the bed with one arm wrapped around me. Maybe it was why for the first time in a while, I slept peacefully.

***

Mom busied herself with work the next day. This was why she didn't notice it when I slipped out of the house to drive myself to the mall. It was a warm day, yet goosebumps dotted my arms. Finding a lucky empty parking spot, I got out and walked to the food court to find Mikka and her friends laughing at each other. A pang of jealousy washed through me. I could’ve been in there too, I thought. Mikka suddenly looked over her shoulder right at me. I ducked my head, making sure my dark hair covered my face, and swiftly walked far, far away. It just so happened that the first store I stumbled in was a self-defense shop. There were knives displayed everywhere and I stepped back, spooked.

“Britney,” A soft voice said behind me and I whirled around, coming face to face with the person I was trying to avoid today. I flinched. Mikka never used to call me by my full name. I walked deeper into the store to get away from her. But Mikka had always been a pest. We used to joke about it…

“Brit,” Ah there it was. “You can’t just ignore me forever.”

I shrugged.

Mikka sighed, “I saw the paper you know,” At this, I stopped and faced her. Mikka continued, “I know you don’t mean it.”

One more shrug. I was good at these.

Mikka groaned in frustration, “I don’t wanna talk if you’re just gonna be like this. But I’m over it, you know. You were my best friend and nothing's gonna change that except you.” I watched her walk away and felt a pang of regret in my chest.

An item on a shelf caught my eye. Without thinking, I bought it and tucked it deep into my jacket pocket. The cold metal stung but I felt safe, knowing that it will protect me. Then I rushed out of the shop to catch up to Mikka.

The glow of the setting sun cast deep shadows in the car as I waited for Jonah. I didn’t know what he wanted. But I couldn’t risk him sharing my journal—an important piece of me—to the school.

He strolled up a few minutes later in a red tee and faded jeans. Any other girl would swoon but I wasn’t fooled by his good looks. Jonah's blue eyes sparkled mischievously as he took in what I was wearing, a pair of skinny jeans and crop-top hoodies. His gaze made my body numb with anger. I crossed my arms and glared at him. If only looks could kill.

“Britney,” Jonah whispered, brushing a light kiss on my neck. I tried to flinch away but he soon had me trapped. He whispered my name again, making an unexpected memory flashed in my mind. No. I yelled at my brain. I didn’t want to go back.

No.

***

My phone dinged.

Cara: Gonna go out for a bit. Cover me?

I shook my head. She was out with Jonah. Again. An uncomfortable feeling washed over me but I ignored it. I didn’t want to be jealous of my sister. She was the best thing in my life and a fluttery feeling was not going to change that.

Me: Sure. Get me some ice cream lol

Dropping my phone on the bed, I returned back to my homework. I hated how it was Friday night, and I was home with books and numbers. Mikka would've had us out somewhere if we were still friends. The pain was still hurt.

A knock on the window startled me out of my self-pity. It was pitch black outside. The foolish part of me that never learned from horror movies went over to unlatch the window and poke my head through. A hand clasped tight around my mouth blocking any scream from escaping.

“Shhhhh,” The sound emanated from the dark. My heart pounded and I started to sweat. I felt it coming—this monster inside that controlled me. My medication was on my dresser but there was no way I could get away from this guy. I was pretty sure it was a guy. I could feel his broad chest and muscular arms pressed beside me. “It’s me.”

“Me who?” I mumbled. Though I wasn’t sure if he understood. He did the most surprising thing and let me go. I snapped my neck toward where the voice was, half still in my room.

“Jonah?” I whisper-yelled, rubbing at my neck from the sharp motion. I heaved a sigh knowing that it wasn’t some serial killer. There was Jonah, in his football jersey and hair damp with sweat. He was standing on the roof that covered my porch, one hand clinging to the roof. “Cara’s not home.”

“I know,” He responded, nonchalant.

“I thought she was with...you?"

“Well, she was. I left her an hour ago,”

“With who? Where’s my sister?!” That anxious feeling came back.

“Jesus, calm down,” Jonah placed a hand on my shoulder. I didn't like the way he was constantly touching me. Everywhere. “I left her at a bar. She’s fine. She’s with a couple of my guys.”

“She’s your girlfriend for god sake. And a bar??” I ducked completely into my room and grabbed the nearest jacket. I heard some shuffling near the window and a moment later, Jonah was standing in my room.

My sister’s boyfriend was in my room.

It wasn’t uncommon of course. Cara would have him over all the time and they would stop by my room sometimes. But he had never been in my room with me...alone.

“I-” I stepped back, a little shocked that he was sitting on my bed. “Can you wait outside? I’ll be out in a sec.”

“Are you flustered?” Jonah smirked at me. His eyes roamed my body and heat seared my cheeks.

“No,” I breathed. Ok, so maybe I was a bit flustered. Seeing my red cheeks and wide eyes, Jonah hopped off my bed and strutted toward me seductively. It shouldn’t affect me but it did. He caressed my cheeks and softly brushed his lips over mine. Heat rushed through me and soon, my lips were moving on their own.

Stop. A voice yelled in my mind.

Jonah’s arms wrapped around my waist and before I knew it, we were at the edge of my bed. It creaked loudly snapping me back to reality.

He slipped a hand under my shirt and I gasped, surprised and scared. I reached out to stop him but his hands didn’t budge. I clenched my eyes shut as he pushed me back onto the bed and started undressing.

No.

I wanted to scream the words. “Stop,” I whispered, the only thing I could manage. Something close to a sob choked out of me as I laid there. He didn’t listen but kept continuing. A rush of cold air rushed over me as my shirt fell to the floor. I gave another last-ditch attempt to push him away, but his damn muscular body didn't budge.

No. Wrong. This was wrong. Stop.

***

“Stop,” I mustered my strength and forced him away from me. “Stay away from me.” My voice wobbly and scratchy from unuse. Jonah stepped back in shock.

“Y-you talked,” He said.

“Way to point out the obvious,” I snarled. I clenched my fist and wound it back to punch him. Jonah easily deflected it and pinned me back against the car again, his face furious and hard. A slap rang out through the empty parking lot. My face burned from pain. Blood was trickling down where his ring nicked my skin. Damn this boy. Bringing up my knee, I hit him square in the groin.

“Bitch!” He yelled at me, still doubled over in pain. But Jonah was soon back on his feet, a murderous look in his eyes, hobbling toward me. Reaching in my pocket, I pulled out the pepper spray and squirted it right at his face. An inhuman shriek came out of his mouth. Just as planned, Mikka slipped out from the shadow holding a phone, her dad striding alongside her. Mr. Rick’s face was furious as he yanked Jonah’s arms behind him. The handcuff made a satisfying click as Jonah stood in shock.

“Jonah Gruff, you're under arrest for sexual assault,” Mr. Rick said, then turned to me. “Are you ok, Britney?” I nodded and watched as he roughly led Jonah to the police cruiser hidden in the shadow. Mikka engulfed me in a hug.

All the tension drained from my body and I felt tired. Tired of carrying the burden of Cara’s death. Tired of the statements I will have to give in court. But I do owe my mom an explanation. She deserved one. “Thanks,” I whispered, burrowing my face in the crook of her shoulder. She held me, like a true friend, until I was ready to go home.

***

Mom clasped a hand over a mouth, her eyes watery. She was on the couch I relayed the story of what happened this evening. Mikka was also there, silently supporting me. My voice shook, saying the next part, “Cara...wasn’t a random bystander that got shot, Mom. She was there w-with Jonah and he...just left her. She was so alone and scared a-and I should’ve been there.”

Mom reached out and enveloped me in a hug only mothers could give. Warm, caring, and non-judgemental. “You’re ok. Cara is ok now. She’s somewhere safe. Don’t let him bully you into thinking it-”

“No, Mom. I knew. I knew she was there but I didn’t do anything. I’m her twin. I’m supposed to protect her!”

“No. Don't. You did the best thing you could've for your sister. You spoke up and said no,” Mom cupped my face in her hands. “And you stood up for yourself. I haven’t been a great mom. I’m so sorry about that.”

I felt her kiss on the top of my head. Mikka stood up from the couch and knelt down next to me, joining the hug.

“Trust me,” Mom said when I looked up at her. “He will not be getting out of this easy.” I was relieved. It wasn’t my fault that Cara was shot at a bar brawl. I couldn’t have done anything to save her. But I was glad I was able to do this for my sister. Do this for me.

“Thanks, Car,” I whispered to the air, knowing that my sister was there to listen to the spoken and unspoken words. “I found it.”