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Chapter Twenty-Six

Khaos

H ypnos and I follow my mother upstairs, de ja vu weighs heavily on me. I’ve walked these steps a million times and as we climb them now, I feel like I'm thirteen again.

The door to my old room creeks open, my mother rushing in to turn the bed down. She’s in and out, busying herself with changing sheets and pulling out an air mattress. As she flies past me, I gently stop her, grabbing onto her arms. Slowly, I take the air mattress out of her hands.

“I’ve got this.” I tell her. “You should get some rest.”

As if my words were a weight being lifted off her shoulders, she visibly deflates. All the strength she’s held today vanishes, leaving behind a weathered, exhausted woman.

Her soft hands lift to palm the side of my face, her eyes relearning all my features. She studies me, fear swarming behind her gaze.

“I’m not going anywhere.” I reassure her. “I’ll see you in the morning. I promise.”

She smiles and I realize it’s the first time she’s done so since she opened the front door. It spreads a warmth through my chest like a much-needed embrace.

“Okay, good night then. I love you, Oliver.” She balances on her tippy toes to reach my forehead for a kiss, and I meet her halfway, bending down.

“Love you too, mom.”

There’s a slight hesitation before she shuts the door behind her as if she can’t fathom the idea of leaving me, even if it’s just to sleep.

I can’t imagine what it’s like to lose your son, but I do know what it’s like to lose myself, my family, my loved ones.

It breaks something so sacred inside of you, something that can never be fixed even if you’re granted the miracle of regaining all those people back in your life.

I wonder if that’s how she feels. Despite the fact that I’m here, I’m safe and alive, it will never fix what’s been broken so deep inside of her.

That void of what our lives could have been had I never gone missing.

Just because I’m here now, doesn’t mean she won’t grieve for the little boy she lost.

“How’s it feel to be back?” Hypnos asks, picking up a picture frame from my dresser.

I shrug, shaking out the mattress and plugging it in to blow it up. I wait until the noise dies down before answering.

“Weird.”

“What’s weird is looking at all these pictures of you and Ash as kids.

” He mutters, picking up the next photo.

“My mind doesn’t seem to comprehend that you knew her this whole time, that there was an entire life before us.

I guess that’s stupid because obviously you had a life before us, we’ve only known you for five years, but it just occurred to me that we don’t really know you. ”

I sigh, my head hanging low between my shoulders, my fingers twisting into the fitted sheet sitting in my hands.

“I’m sure this is really hard for you.” I drop the sheet and meet him where he stands.

Nothing in my room has changed. My dresser still sits on the wall opposite my bed, covered in a navy-blue duvet and light blue sheets. My desk to the left, under the window, covered in astrology stickers and a book that Ash gave me years ago, one I never got to read.

I take the photo from his hands, staring at it. Fifth grade graduation. Both wearing fake mortarboards, backpacks hanging low, holding each other with the cheesiest smile a kid can muster. Everything was so easy then. We were resilient, innocent, and free. All things we’ll never get back.

“Dude, not what I meant. It is hard to wrap my brain around all this because it’s literally insane, but that’s where my struggles end. I’m just worried about you and Ash.”

“Have you spoken to her?” I can’t help myself; I need to know.

“I spoke to Sam. Sounds like Ash needs some time to piece everything together.”

I nod, “I didn’t want her to stay.”

“What?”

“At first, I didn’t want her to stay. I knew it was never going to end well.”

Hypnos’ eyes widen, “Okay, it’s starting to make sense now. I totally thought you were losing it when she showed up, but I guess you kind of were.”

“I knew she was going to be my downfall. Even if I convinced myself I didn’t want to see her, didn’t still love her, didn’t still need her like I needed my own damn heart to live, it didn’t matter because all those things were lies.

I knew what would happen if I gave in to her and I let it happen anyway.

I let her implode my entire life and I would let her do it all over again as long as it brings her back to me. ”

“Shit.” Hypnos squeezes my shoulder.

I finish making his bed, sliding into my own.

Shutting off the lamp on my nightstand, I douse us in darkness, my ceiling lighting up with glow in the dark stars.

Chuckling to myself, I find each constellation, remembering the time when Ash and I spent all day putting them up.

Took forever because I had to redo all of her work, but really it was just the time spent together that mattered most.

“Apart from Ash, how are you really doing?” Hypnos voice is quiet.

I finally let myself think about how I was feeling. Emotions wash over me like a tidal wave, flooding every orifice leading to my lungs.

Suffocating.

That’s how I feel. I feel like I’m drowning in an overwhelming sea of conflicting emotions. None more powerful than the next, all terribly consuming.

I swallow, surprised when it’s air rather than water that fills me.

“I’m a mess.”

“I can imagine.”

Though the room is dark, I can just make out Hypnos’ silhouette as he sits up and turns in my direction.

“You know you can tell me anything. I’m always going to be here for you, no matter what.”

“I know.” I croak, my throat aching with a suppressed sob.

“I’m scared. Hyp, there are things I’ve done while I was with them that-” I swallow another bout of tears, “-that deserves a special place in hell. My parents can’t know.

No one can know, but I have a strong feeling that they’re going to find out. ”

“Like what?” He wonders aloud.

“Like playing God.”

He doesn’t ask me to elaborate and I’m thankful for that.

Instead, he lays back down and we let the night creep on in silence.

Even though exhaustion burns my eyes, sleep evades me.

I chase it desperately, begging for just a minute of peace beneath the blanket of slumber, but memories surface one after another, dragging me back to hell.

Behind my closed eyelids all I see is Father’s face, all I feel are Bordeaux’s punishing hands, all I smell is the tinge of iron and metal. By the time I finally fall under, it’s a restless sleep.

Morning comes barging in like an army on a battlefield, chasing away my nightmares only to drag me through new ones.

My eyes peel open, one after the other, like prying open a living muscle.

My lids are heavy with exhaustion, but there is no use in trying to go back to sleep.

I lay there in my old bed, listening to my parents bustling around downstairs, the front door opening, strangers waltzing in.

There’s a light knock on my bedroom door, forcing me to sit up. “Yeah?”

“Honey? Are you awake?” My mother peaks her head through the crack.

“I am.” I wish I wasn’t.

“Officer O’Neill is back along with some others.” She says, hinting for me to get up without actually asking me to do so. “Oh, and there are a lot of media folks outside our house. I suggest not opening the door to any of them. I think it’s best to just keep this private for now, don’t you think?”

Rubbing my palms down my face, I nod. “Yeah. Okay, I’ll be down in a minute.”

I groan as she shuts the door, Hypnos finally stirring.

“Don’t go outside today.” I warn him as I yank my T-shirt from yesterday over my head.

“Why? What’s going on?”

“News crews. ”

“I assume they’re not here because of the band.” He chuckles.

“I’m afraid not.”

After we finish getting ready, Hypnos follows me down the stairs to the kitchen. Sure enough, Officer O’Neill is there with a partner drinking a cup of coffee. Across from him sits another man, not in a uniform, with dainty glasses and a slim turtleneck.

My mother instantly perks up the second she sees me, rushing over to my side as if I forgot how to walk.

“I made you breakfast. Why don’t you and your friend eat something while we answer more questions?”

My stomach rumbles, but the last thing I can think about is food.

The taste of prison already sits bitterly on my tongue, and nothing will be able to wash it away.

Regardless, my mother makes herself busy creating a pile of steaming, hot breakfast and shoving it into my hands.

As I take a seat at the head of the table, I look down at my plate of eggs, bacon, hash browns, and toast thinking that this feels very much like a last meal.

None of this feels real. I have this urge to pinch myself to see if I wake up, but if I were dreaming, this scene would be painted red and reek of pain. It’s not, I’m awake and this bland nightmare is actually happening.

“Oliver, this is my partner, Jesse Overton.” Officer O’Neill starts.

“Over there-” he points to the strange man sitting across the table from him, “-is Dr. Gillispie. He specializes in patients with severe trauma and works with survivors, like yourself. We’d like you to take some time today to speak with him and talk about treatment. ”

A scoff slips past my lips before I can think better of it. “What makes you think I need treatment?”

Officer Overton clears her throat. “We make this recommendation to all survivors with traumatic pasts. Surviving a sadistic cult would constitute as such and unless you’ve made the entire thing up, I suggest you consider sitting down with Dr. Gillispie today.”

My jaw aches from clenching until my teeth nearly crack with the force.

I want to tell them to fuck themselves, that I’ve spent the last five years taking care of myself and I didn’t need a doctor to tell me what I went through was fucked up.

I don’t need his pity or his long list of diagnoses.

I’m perfectly fine and capable of moving on with my life.

The tender touch of my mother’s hand rubbing against my own immediately distracts me. My eyes find her fingers as she runs small, soothing circles against my skin. I can feel my heart rate drop back down to a normal pace and it forces me to take a deep breath.

“Yeah. Fine.”

“Good choice.” Officer O’Neill nods his head, sipping his coffee.

I let them take every bit of information I can recall, repeating the same story a hundred times until they finally accept it as the answer.

At one point I try to draw the church that sat before a haunted forest and as much as I want my sins to stay hidden, I want just as much to desecrate the family .

On a map, I attempt to recount my escape backwards, hoping it can lead us to the general area of where the church sits, but it’s been a long five years of practiced repression.

We create a circle that encompasses a very large circumference of potential and even though it’s just a start, it’s enough for them to begin searching.

By late afternoon, I sit down with Dr. Gillispie, who now has a decent idea of what I experienced while I was imprisoned in the cult . In just under two hours, I walk away with multiple diagnoses slapped on me like ingredients to my favorite junk food and years’ worth of follow-up visits .

Shouts demanding attention slither through the crack of the front door as both Officers escort Dr. Gillispie out of the house and safely to their cars.

I watch through a slot in our blinds, pariahs swallowing them whole, hounding them with inaudible questions and assumptions that will make headline news regardless of the truth.

Cameras stay trained on our front door like a sniper ready to shoot the second their scope meets its target.

Nothing causes my anxiety to fester like the attention all this has caused.

All I can think about is when they’re going to make their move.

For five years the family hasn’t been able to find me and now my face, my girl, and my house are the only things the world is focused on.

And the only thing I can focus on is Ash, who still hasn’t texted me back.

Yesterday 3:47 PM

I’m so sorry Ash.

I’ve always loved you. I might have lied about who I was, but never lied about loving you.

Just tell me you’re okay. Please?

Yesterday 11:54 PM

When you look up at the stars tonight, just know I’ll be there. I’ll always be thinking about you.