The Glass Secret (Chain of Secrets) (30 page)

Why was my life so complicated? What an e’ffing mess—two fold. I fisted my hands through my long blond hair, pulling it by the roots, hitting my head against the back of the door. This only made matters worse. The repulsive news, coupled with the hammering of my head, penetrated through our entire house.

My mother soon came to my rescue. She knelt down and lulled me closely, despite my vomit-infested garments. She held me tight as I cried in her arms. I never loved her as much as I did in that moment. She was my real angel. That night she bathed me, tucked me in and prayed over my listless body. My heart was broken. I cried myself to sleep.

-32-

Standing by!

The next morning my cell phone was inundated with voice messages, one after the other, from Nuilley. Her calls confirmed that Jordan had been arrested. Her stepfather was a city police officer, so I knew her story was not just gossip but more like gospel.

Tracy and a few other girls were claiming that he attacked them and forced them to have sex. It was hard to comprehend all the facts that were being thrown around, so I chose not to call Nuilley back. Jordan was definitely not the type of guy that had to go to extremes to get sex. I knew for a fact that most girls gave him exactly what he wanted. With that being the case, why would he need to rape the willing? Rumors had it that he liked the thrill, the perverse act of inflicting pain onto women, to berate them into submission, and if they didn’t surrender to his abuse, he raped them. At the time, I couldn’t imagine such lies.

Doubtful still, I chose to blame Storm for ruining my prom—my life. After all, we always hurt the ones that are closest to us. I believed that Storm had certainly lent a hand to the police.

I had no doubt that on some metaphysical level he persuaded the girls to come forward too. I went as far as accusing him of framing Jordan. God, I was such an asshole at times!

I needed to talk to someone. The first person that flashed into my mind was Amanda. Although I hadn’t talked to her in years, I needed to talk to someone that would give me unbiased advice; she would understand.

I found her at the modeling agency that represented her and left a message for her to call me. Immediately, an unknown number flashed on the screen of my cell. I hit the answer button.

“Hello?”

“Hi Brielle, it’s me, Amanda.”

“Oh my God! I am so glad that you called me back. I didn’t think you would remember me. It’s been, gosh, almost four years. I lost your number, so I couldn’t call you. Sorry. Now, that I’m older, well, you know, I figured out how to reach you.” I rambled on without taking a breath. “I really need to see you...to talk to you. I don’t have anyone else to talk to.”

“You sound upset...slow down.” I could hear her smiling through the phone. “First, how have you been?”

“Fine. No, not fine. I have to see you. This guy, he asked me to the prom, and now he’s been arrested.”

“Oh dear...this is terrible news,” she said, exhaling. “Brielle, I can’t believe you are old enough to go to prom. Wow, time sure has flown by.”

“Yeah, I am turning eighteen in a few days. Anyway, Jordan, that’s his name, he’s the one I love now, and he was arrested on three accounts of rape—date rape—alleged—accused of rape, whatever it’s called. He’s not guilty. It’s all so crazy. Can you meet me now...please,” I begged.

“Yes, of course. This must be awful for you. How long have you been dating him?”

“Well, I haven’t—we haven’t dated officially yet. We just started talking, but he really likes me, you know, and I like him too. Gosh, actually—I’ve been in love with him forever. Do you know what I am saying?” My words waffled.

“Yes...I think so.” I sensed a hint of confusion in her voice.

“Amanda, he’s not a rapist. He’s innocent, and I’m a mess...I really need to talk to you in person. My parents, they don’t understand, and my friends are just kids. I need you...” I whined.

“Okay, okay calm down, I’ll meet today. Can you get to Central Park and 5
th
Avenue?”

“Yes...where?”

“There’s a cute diner a few doors down from the
Ritz
called,
Sara Beth’s
?”

“Yes, I know the place. I will take the subway to get there.”

“Oh gosh, okay, get off at 5
th
avenue and 59
th
okay?” Her voice filled with a hint of concern.

“Yes, can you come now?” I selfishly pressed her. Come to think of it, I never asked her how she had been doing. “Please this is really important me.”

“Sure. Give me at least forty-five minutes. I am driving back to the city as we speak. I have to make a quick stop at home, and then I will be straight over. Jot down my number, and call me if you are running late.”

“Good thinking. It came up unknown on my phone,” I huffed.

“Are you ready?

“Yes.”

“It’s 212-560-2105. Got it?”

“Yes, I got it. Thanks so much, Amanda. I can’t wait to see you. I knew you would understand,” I exclaimed and then quickly sniffled to add a bit of drama, so she wouldn’t lose sight of how important this was to me.

“Of course, I am excited to see you, too...whoa...the traffic is thick on the bridge getting into the city, so wait there for me...and don’t talk to strangers...be safe.”

“I will. See you soon.” I hung up and exhaled.
Why is everyone warning me about talking to strangers? Do I come across as an idiot?

I waited for over three hours for Amanda to show up, and during that time, I called her over ten times. My calls went straight to her voice mail.
Maybe I wrote the wrong number down.
I could not believe she stood me up. No one ever does as they say. I never tried to reach her at a later date, I figured she had blown me off, she never called me back either. I guessed that bond we tied years before had been broken. Looking back I couldn’t understand why I had expected her to drop everything for me, after all we weren’t really close.

-
33-

Judgment Day

Months later, headlines hit the newspaper. Jordan Ramsey was sentenced to fifteen years in prison. However, in my opinion, he deserved more than just time in prison. After the trial and once the dust settled, my thoughts were more rational than ever. Unfortunately, I was never woman enough to apologize to Storm for accusing him of framing Jordan. How could I have been so mean and selfish?

During the trial litigations, I reamed Storm up one side and down the other. I blamed him for Jordan’s troubles and for destroying my social life. Storm didn’t take my irrational behavior so well, but as the selfish teenager that I had become, I didn’t care how he felt.

As a child it was great to have him around, but as a young woman it was time to unleash the beast in my head. I couldn’t deal with him anymore. I wanted to have a normal life, to allow things to unfold according to my destiny. Even if that meant bad things might happen to me. I didn’t want Storm’s protection anymore.

I wanted friends that didn’t call me a freak behind my back because they had caught me talking to myself. I didn’t think that I physically looked like a freak, quite the contrary, but when you are caught talking to yourself—hey, if the shoe fits, wear it! Some kids called me Sybil while others referred to me as Shirley. Shirley Mason was who the fictional character
Sybil
was based upon. The best name the mean kids called me was Eve, from the famous movie,
The Three Faces of Eve
. I supposed this one was the most apropos because my last name was Eden. It was very hurtful growing up and being called names. I blamed Storm for this, too. Damn, I was awful toward him.

I needed to escape from Storm once and for all. Early in the spring, I had received a full scholarship to University of California, Los Angeles—so much for NYC. In the end, I was grateful I decided to attend UCLA. Getting out of New York City would be good for me. Being away from home would give me the flexibility to do what I wanted to, without my parents right around the corner.

However, the thought of taking Storm to college with me was out of the question. An angel simply would not fit into the weekend activities that I was planning on. It was time for Storm to let me grow up and move on.

I was certain there was some other more deserving little girl that needed a guardian angel. After having his voice living in my head for eighteen years, it was beyond time for him to go. I was tired of feeling like a freak in a carnival show.

A few years prior to my master plan, after my first fight with Storm, I had Googled, “Spirits 101” and read an article:
How to get rid of spiritual deities—of any sort, evil or good
. The best advice that I found was to simply
rebuke
it.
Can it be as simple as this sounded?
I wondered if rebuking him would turn my hair snow white? I decided it was only worth the risk as a last resort.

When the day came that I served Storm his eviction papers, he didn’t take getting kicked out of my life—or my head very well. He didn’t give in without a good fight either. At first he would appear out of nowhere—he stalked my brain like the wolf in the story,
Little Red Riding Hood
. He started out with the whispers, which added up into demands. I am sure if he had teeth, he would have gobbled me whole.

Storm must have sensed I was going to ask him to go, I remember it well. Moments before our last real conversation, he went as far as trying to melt me with his seductive voice.

Seductive voice?

Yikes, it came as a shock when I noticed his hypnotic smoky voice. He could definitely stop any woman dead in her tracks. Immediately, I spun around looking for the source. Then I realized it was Storm. Did he always sound as if he could ignite a fire with his low husky voice? I never gave it much thought before his voice paralyzed me.

The sounds of his voice almost prevented me from following through with my intentions. My femininity was captivated for a few hundred-milliseconds. It was the first and only time that I
really
wondered what he looked like in terms of a man.

My imagination stretched a bit too far. What if he was tall with dark hair, gorgeous features, and ripped with muscles? Eww, to think of him in this way made me shudder. He wasn’t even human. And, if he could be—forget about it—he was my guardian angel…
I think
.

“So, you are wondering what I look like again.”

Shit, I forgot he could hear my thoughts now. Lord, he heard that one, too. I am so screwed.

“No, not at all. I’ve never given a thought to what you look like. Seriously I could give a crap,” I said aloud, lying.

“Hold up Little Lady, you did once years ago. Remember when you ask me if I could see you, and if I thought you were pretty—you also asked me what I looked like, and I said what does it matter, and—”

“Yeah, yeah, I forgot. So what! That’s normal. I was a kid then. Kids are curious about things they can’t see,” I argued.

“It that so? So either you’re still a kid, or just a curious woman now.”
Storm chuckled like an arrogant, self-assured jerk. “
Because what you were just thinking was different than when you asked years ago. You’re thoughts gave it away. You’re very curious about my physical features. I can tell.”

I gaped in utter disbelief; he was putting me on the spot. I couldn’t stand that he could hear everyone of my thoughts. It was like nothing was private anymore. Nothing!

What should I say back?

“I heard that…say...what it is you want.”

“Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. I think you probably look like a dwarf, or worse yet a leach with one eye...a beast of some sort. On the other hand, you behave like a disembodied devil without a soul. Why else have you been afraid to tell me the truth about who you really are? I mean there is no other explanation as to why you have been keeping everything a secret from me all these years. As a matter of fact, you told me years ago you kind of have a body? What the hell doesn’t that mean? How does someone
kind of
have a body...and where is it? I mean, it’s not in my fucking head, right? So what are you, a troll, an alien with big eyes and long fingers, or a bug, or a parasite stuck in my head?”

“No, you are so far off. As a matter of fact—I look like.”
He paused.
“I can’t tell you. I cannot cross that line.”

“I knew you wouldn’t tell me. More games. I am not a child anymore, so quit playing games with me.”

“God, Brielle, there are reasons for everything that I do,”
he said. His voice was drenched in authority.

“Then, tell me. Tell me now!” I barked.

“Brielle, darling.  I want to tell you so much. I just can’t,”
Storm responded, his breath fell languid.

Then the moment came where I had finally had enough of his crap, and frankly, his reasons just didn’t make sense.

“Just forget it. I will rebuke you from my head forever. I rebuke the day you moved into my head. I rebuke knowing you.” I banished him in every way I thought possible, and then went the distance by completely ignoring him the entire summer.