I hear the wheels of our car crunch the pebbles on the parking lot as Max pulls up next to us.
But I continue to pace, following the same path back and forth, keeping my walls from crumbling. Although they are one hiccup away from collapsing.
Sophie walks up to me with reddened eyes. “Becca, come on. Let’s go. It’ll be okay.”
She reaches out and tries to grab my arm, but I yank it away, not even making eye contact with her.
I can’t stop pacing. I can’t break the pattern. Breaking the pattern will break me.
And I can’t break.
And I can’t break.
I can’t break.
Can’t break.
My breaths quicken.
Can’t break.
My feet continue to click on the pavement.
Can’t break.
My nails break skin on the healed-over half-moons.
Can’t break.
“Becca?” Keanu pleads, his voice quiet as he walks by my side. “Come on. Get in the car. Please.”
Can’t break.
New half-moons form in my palms.
Images flash through my mind, flying so fast that they cut me.
Brady looming over me, lemon scenting the air, pain between my legs.
Can’t break.
My mom’s eyes glossed over. Dead in the hospital bed.
Can’t break.
The casket lowering into the cold earth. My father withering away.
Can’t break.
The blood. The gun. The dead body of my father, slumped in his office chair.
Can’t break.
The stains that will never come out—out of my clothes, out of my mind.
Can’t break.
Alone. All alone, forever alone.
