Page 83 of Shade
Inside my room, alone, my hands shake as I open the letter and Rhya’s handwriting jumps out. Every swallow I have tastes sour, the closer I come to collapsing into the bed. It’s written in blue ink and I know just by the writing her state of mind was gone at the time. There are scribbled out words, but at the top she wrote three numbers.
Seventeen. You.
Thirteen. Glen Helen.
Eighteen. Seattle pier.
I read through it, my tears hitting the paper and most of it is exactly the kind of shit I expected. Words. And all about her. But I focus on the last line. The one that makes complete sense to me. Fucked up sense, but I know why she did it now.
“My life is one you tried to save endlessly, but Shade, don’t you see, this was the only way. Where I end, you begin. . . ”
Running my hands through my hair, I slump back against the wall, my tears flowing. I can’t even tell you why I’m crying, just that I am and I don’t think I’m going to be able to stop.
Someone knocks on my door, maybe they can hear me crying, maybe they can’t.
“Go away!” I growl, never moving from my place.
Whoever it is doesn’t listen and opens the door. It’s Ricky. My uncle. You haven’t met him yet, but you’re about to and see exactly why this man is important to me. It takes a lot to take three young boys in and provide a good life for them. Ricky did that selflessly and gave up so much for us. I owe him enough respect not to yell at him, but it doesn’t stop me.
“GET OUT!” I holler at him, my nerves unraveling. The haze consuming me sends my nerves sailing, remembering the words,“Where I end, you begin. . . .”
“MOVE!” I scream with rage, my fists clenching as another rush of anger moves through me.
“No. Not until you calm down.”
“Calm down?” My chest heaves, struggling to gain control. I pick up my nightstand and toss it at the wall. It crashes, taking a chunk of plaster and sheetrock with it to the floor. “You have no idea what I’m going through.” I shove him backward. I want him away from me. I want everything and everyone away from me.
Do you see the way Ricky’s eyes fixate on mine? He’s not backing down.
I’m ready to hit him. I am. Here we were, the man who’s like a father to me and the kid he raised since he was four years old, holding a stare.
“Hit me if it will make you feel better. But I’m not leaving you alone.” Hardened eyes refuse to let go. “Do it. If you think that’s the answer, go ahead and hit me.”
Ordinarily, I’m nothing like my brothers and their tempers. I think we can all agree I’m no longer in my right mind.
So I hit him.
I react and swing. How dare he stop me and try to make me see rational thoughts. Fuck him. So I hit Ricky in the face.
He turns his head with the hit, and when he looks back at me, his eyes are so cold and unrecognizable I feel like he’s mirroring my heart.
“That’s your one shot, kid.” His voice is rougher than usual, as if he’s struggling internally with not kicking the shit out of me for hitting him.
Immediately, I realize what I’ve done and collapse to my knees. I’m weak and vulnerable. My head falls to my hands. “She killed herself because of me.”
Ricky sighs and kneels next to me, and for a moment, he studies me intently. “Don’t say that.”
I grip the letter in my other hand, my fist tightening around it, and then I shove it at him. “Read it. She did!”
Ricky takes the letter, his eyes hard and lost before he reads it, then sighs. His reaction is nothing like mine had been. Probably because he hadn’t seen firsthand the destructive ways of Rhya Morgan. What he witnessed was me, constantly saving her, or trying to.
Ashamed, I stare at the redness of his jaw. “Didn’t she?”
“You have every right to believe that,” Ricky agrees. “But youshouldn’t. I think part of all of us died that day Rhya pulled the trigger. You’ve been through a lot. You have every right to be angry.” And then he adds somberly, “But you can’t let this destroy you.”
Destroy me? She destroyed me long before the letter.
