The Forgotten Girl
“Hey,” she says, rushing over to me like we’re friends. “I need your help.”
“I’m just dropping by,” I say, my gaze skimming the thick crowd. “Nothing more.”
She ignores me, grabbing my arm and tugging me to the bar area where men are crowded around waiting for their drinks. She grabs a few shot glasses and turns them right side up.
“It’s been so busy here,” she explains, getting a bottle of tequila from the shelf behind the bar. “I’m so glad you showed up.” She starts filling the glasses with the golden liquid. “I really needed help tonight.”
Shaking my head, I start to back away, ignoring a few perverted remarks from some of the men sitting in the barstools—nice ass, let me see those tits—I’ve heard it all. “I said I didn’t come here to work. I just need to check in the back room for something.”
I notice her hands are shaking as she pours the drinks and she ends up spilling as much tequila on the counter as she gets into the glasses. “Good, then you can take one of the many guys, who’ve been requesting to go back there, with you,” she says, taking some money from a tall man with a beard for the shots. “I can’t keep up with all the madness.”
I pause, arching my brow. “And why is that my problem?” I ask as she strides to the back wall to put the tequila back on the shelf with the rest of the hard alcohol.
She shakes her head, looking frazzled as she wipes her hands on the sides of her skin tight jeans and releases an unsteady breath. “Maddie, I’m so sorry for being such a bitch the other day… Please just help me out with this and I’ll owe you a huge, epic favor.”
I can’t even remember her name, so why the hell would I want to help her out. Besides, I only came here for Bella.
She points her finger at a guy sitting at the end of the bar. He’s younger than a lot of people who come here, with blond hair that has a slight wave to it. He looks pretty innocent in his polo shirt but when he sees me looking at him, his smile is nothing but innocent. “He’s been requesting you all night.”
I rack my brain for an idea of where I’ve seen him, but I’m drawing a blank. “I have to go,” I say to her and her expression instantly sinks.
“Bitch,” she says.
“Yep,” I reply, turning around and grabbing one of the drinks off the countertop. I throw it back, the alcohol burning my throat as I set the glass back down. As I’m wiping my lips with my hand, my gaze travels up to the window above where I notice someone standing in front of it, staring down in my direction. I snag the waitress’s arm as she’s breezing by me. “I thought River wasn’t here.” I discretely nod my head in the direction of the window.
She looks up and her brows furrow. “No, he is. Why would you think he wasn’t?” She looks at me momentarily, slipping her arm from my death grip.
Why would Bella tell me he wasn’t here? I walk away and breeze by the guy who wanted a private dance, hurrying out from behind the bar and to the dance floor.
“Hey baby,” he says as I rush by him.
Disregarding him, I make my way through the crowd, each step getting heavier and heavier. The lights are flashing and my head’s swimming by the time I reach the door to the private area. No one else is in there and I fumble around to turn the lights on, my fingers really struggling to work, which is very unlike me. Finally I get it and step inside and frown when I realize Bella’s not there. I’m about to back out when I feel someone come up behind me and put their hands on my hips.
“Don’t touch me,” I warn, slipping out of their touch and turning around to see Mr. Polo Shirt standing behind me. I ungracefully stumble over my feet and almost fall to the floor, but catch myself on one of the chairs. “What the hell do you want?” I say as I stand upright, trying to compose myself. Bella, where the hell are you?
I’m getting a little woozy. The world is dancing, neon colors, lots of light. I see flashes of images. A woman tied to the bed at Bella’s apartment. A blond haired girl hovering over her with a knife, ready to cut. The girl screams and the walls are painted red with her blood.
The guy has got a shit eating grin on his face as he moves for me again, reaching to grab me. “I want you.”
I try to walk around him, taking crooked steps and my struggle seems to be making him happy as he blocks my path. He puts his fucking hands back on my hips again and I try to shove him off, but my movements are lethargic, slow motion. Everything is slow motion. He gets rough, his nails digging into my skin as he sits down in the chair and forces me to straddle his lap. “Quit fighting it and be the fucking whore that you are.”
You’re a whore!
You’re a whore!
You’re a whore!
“I’m going to fucking kill you.” I see red. I don’t know what’s happening, but I can feel myself falling into the darkness, not sure I want to come back out.
Chapter 31
Lily
She releases control easily this time, but that might be because she’s been drugged. I’m not sure who did it to her, but I recognize the over-drunk state I’ve been thrown into with just one shot. I’d think it might have been the waitress since she poured the shot, but I can’t be certain since the glass sat on the counter for a few moments. Really, anyone could have done it. Besides, I’m starting to think the random call from Bella wasn’t random, but a set up. And I don’t think this is the first time it’s happened.
I’m a hell of a lot tougher than Maddie, though, and this fucker is about to pay for his assault on me. I slowly lift my slumped head up and meet his dark eyes that I’m sure match mine. He’s got his hand up my shirt, cupping one of my breasts, his other hand down my pants and inside me as he watches in lust as he violates a woman he clearly knows is out of it.
Maddie would flip if she found herself in this condition and maybe that’s why she turned everything over to me without a battle. She did it a lot back when she first started creating me, at least from what I read in the files she seemed to embrace me more back then, probably a defense mechanism from all the shit she’d been through. The pain. The things she said. The guilt she felt for the things she’d done. The choices she made. The pain she caused. But it wasn’t just her fault. There’s so much more to it than she can even begin to understand.
I get ready to clean up this mess the only way I know how and even though Maddie will never admit it, she’ll be grateful for it. “Do you fucking like that?” I say to the pervert, having to work real hard to make my voice even, the anger subdued.
“God yes,” he moans, shoving his fingers inside me.
“Good, I’m glad you like it,” I say numbly, leaning forward and putting my lips up to his ear. “It’s going to make this a hell of a lot easier.”
He chuckles against my neck. “Oh yeah, what are you going to do to me?”
I lean back and let a slow grin expand across my face. It throws him off a little, but then he smiles back. “Suck my dick,” he commands.
I shake my head. “Oh I’m going to do a hell of a lot more to your dick than suck it,” I tell him, then shift my knee, slamming it into his balls and bulging cock without any warning. His face twists in pain and now I’m the one getting sick pleasure off vulnerability. I knee him again and again until he finally gets enough energy to slap me across the face. It stings and my ears ring, but I’m an expert at being hit. I jump off his lap, almost losing my balance but manage to keep my feet under me as I pick up an empty beer glass on the floor near one of the chairs. By the time I stand up straight, he’s running at me, growling.
“This wasn’t part of the deal, God dammit,” he shouts, his head down, veins bulging. “Fuck them for lying to me!”
I freeze. “What deal?”
“Fuck you,” he says, ignoring my question. “You’re going to pay for this.”
When he gets close enough, I take swing at him and bash the glass against his head. A fire explodes inside me. I want to hurt him like he hurt me. Make him pay. The glass doesn’t break, but it makes a weird noise aga
inst his head. He collapses to the floor and I hit him over and over again, not sure when I’ll stop, the fire burning brighter and brighter with every swing.
From the midst of the bashing, I hear someone move up behind me. Hands touch me. A whisper feels my head from a voice I’ve heard before. The only voice in the world that can instill fear in me and make me curl within myself.
“I thought you were dead,” I whisper before I crumple to the ground.
Chapter 32
Maddie
I wake up with my face pressed against a moist surface, cold, sick to my stomach, and disoriented. At first I think I’m in the freezer again, but when I push up, I’m blinded by the sunlight. My body groans in protest and I instantly collapse back onto the muddy ground covered in dead leaves. I just lie there, refusing to believe what’s around me. Trees, the sky, the sound of a river flowing.
I’m dreaming. I have to be dreaming.
“A forest. How…” I trail off with my eyes shut. “I can’t… I don’t even…” I try to let my mind travel back to last night, but all I can remember is going into the back room, the guy coming in after me, then blacking out as if I were wasted. It makes no sense since I only had one shot of tequila. I have a way higher tolerance for alcohol than that, which makes me instantly want to point my finger at the one thing that has made me blackout before.
“You’re getting stronger,” I say to Lily. “You took over when I was awake.”
I don’t move for a very long time, waiting for Lily to say something to me, but she doesn’t. Finally, I sit up, relieved to see that at least this time I don’t have blood on me. Although, I do have a few bruises forming on my hips and scratches on my arm. For a minute, I wonder if maybe the guy raped me then dumped me out here to die. The thought makes my mind race, my adrenaline soar, but from somewhere inside me, there’s a sense of peace, telling me not to worry. I try to remember what happened. But all I can see is darkness and once again I’m left trying to conjure up a reason on my own as to what happened during my lost time.
After sitting for a while, I manage to get to my feet and check my pocket for my phone, but it’s gone so I stagger through the trees and mud. I don’t even know where I’m going, what woods I’m in, how deep I am in the trees. I could walk for miles and be going in a circle and never know it, but I’m not worried about that. There’s a spark of recognition in my mind and it feels like my feet are following an invisible path, like they’re my compass, guiding me toward wherever it is I need to go. Maybe I subconsciously remember hiking out here last night. And I luck out. After walking for about five minutes, I hear the sounds of cars. There’s a road nearby. Even though it hurts, I pick up my pace, tripping over my feet and bumping into trees. I’m getting closer, the sound of the cars becoming more defined, when suddenly it happens. A split second before it occurs, my mind registers that it’s going to happen but before I can respond, I trip over something solid and fly to the ground face first in the dirt, my nose slamming against a rock. Blood drips out of my nostrils and runs down my chin as I roll over, terrified to look, because I know what it is
A dead body.
Lying in the dirt. Face up. Eyes open. Wavy hair matted with dirt and smothered with blood, along with his polo shirt, missing the top button. The man from the bar that got rough with me is dead by my feet. And I can’t remember last night. Again. I can’t do anything, but check. Putting my hand into my pocket, my fingers brush a small, smooth object. I don’t take it out, already knowing what it is. Tears burn at my eyes, my heart thuds violently.
Run!
I get up with zero hesitation and run like hell through the forest, but moments later I stumble over something unexpected. Another body. Oh God no. I know him, too, by the tattoo of the dragon breathing fire on his wrist.
Don’t look back. Don’t scream. I let my legs carry me through the trees until I stumble out of them and into the street. The sight of it sends a chill up my spine, a jolt of recollection up my body, as cars zoom up and down the street and I almost run straight into traffic. There’s a water tower in the distance and I can almost feel the key in my hand.
Pitter-patter… pitter-patter… I can feel the rain falling… if I don’t get up and run fast, I’ll never escape it, the place hidden in the trees.
I walk like a zombie in a trance across the street, step by step, my eyes fixed on the water tower that I’ve seen before when I was lying in the street six years ago. A couple of cars honk their horn but I don’t so much as flinch, stepping into forest on the other side. I let my sub-conscious be my guide, hiking through trees and bushes for what feels like hours, robotically, my mind and feet numb, until finally the trees open up, then I stop and look up at the white building, shielded by half-dead trees, the roof caved in, some of the siding charred, just like the cabin where Ryland lives.
Only this isn’t a cabin.
This is the Beleview’s Mental Institution. Or it used to be anyway. Until I burnt it down. The memory comes to me, hot and fiery like the flames that burned half the building down. I lit a match.
I lit a match.
“You did it because I let you—because I wanted to escape this place,” I say, stepping out of the shelter of the trees and crossing the open toward the building. I can see some of the images in my mind. The screams. The shouting. The way the ground burned my bare feet and how I ran through the forest, trying to escape the doctor who chased me down... the blond haired doctor wearing a white coat. I ran for hours until I reached the road… then the car hit me… I lay in the road, the man leaning over me, unafraid, even though I was trying to hurt him, like he understood what I needed, what I was on the inside. How he struck a match to light his cigarette… just like Preston does every time he lights candles…
“Jesus, he was there.” I pause at the entrance of the building. It’s boarded up with a No Trespassing sign on it, which I disregard and step inside. There’s debris on the floor, papers sticking to everything, several doors lining the walls… the last one was mine… I can remember… yet I can’t… “I was here.” I walk down the entrance, tracing my hand on the walls, remembering. “I was locked up here… and I found a way out… I got a hold of a match… from my therapist… Preston… he was my therapist back then.”
The memories move over me in waves, Lily silent, giving me time to put it all together. I burned this place down with Preston’s matches, because he was my therapist back then, had me locked up in here, and it was the only way to get out. I let Lily do it—let her take control and escape because I was too afraid to. Preston was the one in the road… I can almost see his face. The way he lit a match, smoked his cigarette, let me strangle him. “Why, though? Why was I here to begin with? And why are they trying to keep all of this hidden?”
That is the million dollar question.
“You know why,” I say, stopping in front of a door, my fingers brushing the pocket of my pants where I keep the key I found, and thankfully it’s still there. Room 14. My Room 14, where I lived, day to day, for two years. God, I can practically hear the screams… smell the tranquilizers… feel the pain… “This wasn’t a normal mental institution, was it?” I ask, pressing my hand to the door as I take out the key. As my mind flashes back, I swear the steel burns my hand and I jerk back. “This was something different.”
Do you really want to know? What they did to you? What you are?
My hand trembles as I turn the key and it unlocks. With a deep breath, I push it open, and a wave of emotions hit me. Written all over the charred walls are Lily, Maddie, Lily, Maddie. Help me. Help me. Help me get out of here. Over and over again. God, how I hated this door, when it was shut and when it was opened too.
“Yes, I do. I want to know now. I’m ready.”
Then let me show you.
Chapter 33
Maddie
Finding out the truth is painful, but not as painful as it probably would be if I didn’t let Lily be a part of it, let her show me instead of discovering for myself
. As I read over the papers, she had shoved under the bed the night she dyed my hair, I let her partially control me, half in control over my emotions so it’s not quite as excruciating. I think I’ve done this many times before—let her take some of my emotional pain like this.
I haven’t showered since I left the forest. I’m tired, filthy, I had to hitchhike home which ended up being over two hours away. I should clean myself up, get rid of the evidence that will link me to the body, but there’s worse evidence right in front of me. Preston’s files. Lily stole the file that night I passed out, after Preston tranquilized me. Apparently he did that a lot in my past, at least according to my notes. It’s why I had the rufi’s in my system that night. He’d given them to me during a “session” to try and subdue the rage inside me and then made a note about it.
His notes are actually pretty straight forward. I was admitted to the hospital when I was fourteen because I beat up my mother during a very heated argument in a fit of rage, which apparently happened a lot due to childhood trauma. It was my mother who had me admitted, not wanting to get the cops involved, so she took me to the institution which I’m still not sure was a legal place of practice. Guessing by the methods, I’d say no. Shock treatment. Questionable medication. There’s some note about some sort of torture treatment Preston did because he believed that when I felt like I was being bad or around bad, I’d run to Lily, my alter ego. Being her was a mechanism I established during my traumatized childhood of being locked up in a basement for three and a half years, from the ages of around nine to thirteen. But there was more to it than that. Whenever I did anything bad, I would become her, because apparently I couldn’t bear to think of myself as bad. Preston had believed that this had something to due with what happened to me while I was kidnapped, that my capturers were on some sort of mission to rid the bad from the world and that they were trying to teach me and so I created Lily to carry the guilt and put blame on her for whenever I did something bad. The worst part, my capture was Markels Wellfordton.