"THE WOMAN BY MY BED''
Camp ended and we finally came home. I would say it was a nice experience,strange, exhausting, but nice in its own way. Conner came to pick us up. Ethan, Eugene, and Anny left by themselves. Ethan looked like he didn't want to leave. Before going, he slipped me his number.
The entire ride back, Mary cried silently.
Not loudly. Not dramatically. Just quiet tears sliding down her face as she stared out the window like something inside her had already broken long before this moment. I tried consoling her, whispering that it would be okay, but she didn't respond. She wouldn't even look at me.
Father asked me a couple of times what happened between us, but I didn't have an answer for him. I still don't. Maybe I should just give her space.
Ethan said he'll come by sometime and take me out. I'm really excited. Normally I would tell my sister everything ,every little detai,lbut right now I just… can't.
For the first time in a while, life feels like it has color again.
And I'm terrified of losing it.
I wish I could just tell Mary that there must be someone better out there for her. Someone who won't make her feel the way Ethan clearly did.
Aside from that, I'm exhausted. I've been working on a painting for days and it's still not finished. It's called "Only Because I Love You."
It isn't one of those beautiful, breathtaking paintings people hang in galleries to admire from a distance.
It's about physical abuse.
In the darkest corner of the canvas there's a woman curled up on the floor, her body folded into itself like something small trying to survive a storm. Her arms are wrapped around her head, protecting it. The rest of the room fades into shadows.
And yet… it's beautiful.
Because when I look at it, I see my childhood staring back at me.
Sometimes I think too much about perfection in my paintings,the angles, the brushstrokes, the symmetry. But art was never meant to be perfect.
Art is honesty.
And the only thing that matters is how honest it is.
Today Anny called me. She sounded unbelievably happy. She told me she's going to move in with Eugene. I'm happy for her, truly. I told Mary as well, and she seemed happy too or at least she tried to look that way.
As for Ethan and I…
Last night he came to talk to Father.
I was so awkward about it. I literally hid upstairs because this was the first time I had brought a boy home.
Well… the second time, if we count Alexander.
We definitely can't forget about him.
When I finally came downstairs, things seemed… fine, I guess. Ethan and Father were talking in the living room. I couldn't hear much of what they were saying, but judging by their expressions, it seemed alright.
Soon we all had dinner together. It was actually really nice.
Until Mary suddenly stood up and left halfway through the meal.
And to be honest, I didn't like that one bit.
I understand that she's upset, but don't ruin my moment because of it. It felt childish. Immature. I didn't argue with her though mostly because she has… issues.
We're not supposed to talk about them.
But I did warn Ethan anyway.
Just in case she decides to stab him with a knife one day.
Lol.
I'm really hungry right now too because I lost my appetite yesterday.
I close the diary and turn to Cade.
We're sitting on my bed in my room, trying to piece together anything that might help us understand what really happened. The diary rests in my hand for a moment before I slide it into the drawer.
I can't read his expression.
"I have so many questions," I say quietly.
"Same," he replies. "It's weird that your mom actually liked Ethan."
"I can't believe it either."
I lie back on the bed, staring up at the chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Its glass crystals sway ever so slightly in the faint draft, scattering dim reflections across the room.
It's chilly.
Not cold enough to be uncomfortable, just enough to make the air feel… hollow.
The room looks like it belongs to a ghost.
That's what Cade said when he first walked in.
From the corner of my eye, I notice him staring at me.
I turn my head.
"What?"
"Why don't we ask Ethan?" he says.
"…Ask him what?"
"Everything."
I sigh and stare back at the ceiling.
What if Ethan actually tells me? From everything I've read in that diary, he seems like a completely different person from the man I know now.
And maybe—just maybe—we'll finally learn what really happened.
"Who's the redhead?" I ask suddenly.
"She's a friend," Cade says. "We basically grew up together. Why?"
"So now I can't ask? Wow."
I roll my eyes.
"That's not what I meant-hey, hey… are you jealous?" he says, a smirk forming on his lips.
"No, I'm not."
But even as I say it, I feel heat rushing to my cheeks,something that makes me look a little less dead than usual.
Cade moves closer.
He places his hands on either side of my head, leaning over me.
"Go away," I mumble.
He chuckles.
Then he lowers himself and buries his face into the crook of my neck, his teeth grazing the skin there.
A soft gasp escapes my throat.
My hands instinctively wrap around the back of his neck.
The sensation is overwhelming,too sharp, warm and for some reason my body feels unbearably sensitive to it. My eyes begin to flutter closed—
When I see her.
A woman.
Standing beside the bed.
Hovering over me.
Her form is faint but unmistakably there, like something dragged halfway out of a nightmare and forced into the room with us. Her skin is the palest shade imaginable,so pale it almost looks translucent, like thin wax stretched over bone.
Her eyes…
Her eyes look smashed inward.
Sunken. Bruised. Hollow like something has been pressing into them from the inside.
She isn't angry.
She's sad.
Terribly, unbearably sad.
She's staring directly at me.
And I can't move.
Her wet bobbed hair clings to her face in dark strands, dripping slowly down her neck like she has just stepped out of water.
Or like she has just drowned.
The air around her smells faintly of something rotten and damp like black water sitting too long in the dark.
My chest tightens.
My throat closes.
My body refuses to move.
"Mom…?"
My voice barely exists when it leaves my lips.
It cracks in the middle of the word.
Tears slide down my temples before I even realize I'm crying.
And she just stands there.
Watching me.