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Full of Grace
Nick nodded, "How about some breakfast?"
I nodded, "That sounds great. I'm starving."
We both headed down the stairs and went to work in the kitchen. Actually, I
should say Nick went to work. I was on toast duty. Which consisted of me
dropping a pile of bread on the counter and using my palm to scoot them
piece by piece to the edge of the counter so I could push them over the edge
into my other hand and then holding the bread between my hands while I
positioned it over the toaster and then dropped it in. I missed the days
of not having to think about how to do everything without my fingers and
wrists.
Nick smiled when he saw my system for getting toast in the toaster and then
turned back to the eggs he was frying up. I started humming waiting for the
bread to brown and Nick looked up at me and smiled again, "It's amazing what
a night of good sleep does for you. All these years we just thought you were
an ogre. You really were sleep deprived."
I shot him a look and stuck my tongue out at him. Mature, I know, but I seem
to naturally regress in age around Nick.
He smirked at me, "Yes, Kevy, I know you know how to use that, now put it
away at the breakfast table." He said it in such a mocking motherly tone
that I immediately turned red. That set him off even more. Soon he was
clutching his sides and using the counter to hold him up as he laughed. I
rolled my eyes and shook my head, muttering "Kids." under my breath.
When the toast popped up, I took it out of the toaster between my palms and
tried not to burn myself, laying the toast on a plate. I saw the butter and
a knife laying there and without a thought went to pick up the knife. My
fingers hit the countertop and splayed out, nearly bending themselves
backwards. I tried again, same result. Then I remembered. I couldn't.
I got so mad. Can't and couldn't were becoming words I was using way too
often now. Words that had never been in my vocabulary before. Words that
were practically my entire vocabulary now. The butter went flying across
the kitchen after I straight armed it of the counter along with the knife
and the toast. The plate shattered and the knife made a clattering noise as
it bounced off the floor.
Nick spun around to see me looking at the mess I made on the floor, my
breathing ragged and tears sliding down my face. Before he could say a word
I bolted up the stairs and into my room.
He knew I needed some time alone, so he carefully cleaned up the mess I had
made and finished breakfast before coming up the stairs. He knocked and
when he didn't get an answer from me, he just came in. He saw me lying on
the bed, moping. There was no dignified word for it, it was just being a
sucky and moping.
He set the plate of food down on the bed and looked at my back. "Sit up!"
His voice nearly barked at me and I jumped, astonished at his tone. I
figured I had really made him mad, making a mess of his kitchen like I had.
I slowly sat up, and swung my legs over the side of the bed so I was facing
him. He nodded, "Better. Now eat."
He loaded up a fork and put it in front of my lips, I hated this most of
all, I couldn't even feed myself. My useless hands couldn't even feed me.
I shook my head, hanging it low, "I'm not hungry."
He frowned, "Open your mouth. The only way you are going to get better is if
you take care of yourself. Open!"
I shook my head and he grunted in frustration. Next thing I knew he had my
nose pinched closed and my mouth was open, gasping for air. He used the
opportunity to shove the forkful of food into my mouth and closed my mouth,
making me chew and swallow by still holding my nose. He finally let it go
and I glared at him. He glared right back, "Well if you would just eat and
stop moping we wouldn't have this problem would we?"
I sighed and stubbornly kept sulking.
He filled the fork again, "Are you going to eat it or do I have to
humiliate you and do the airplane?"
I just looked at him, he wouldn't dare.
He knew what I was thinking, "Just try me, Kev. You know I'll do it,
complete with engine noises."
My mouth opened faster than the speed of light. There was no way in hell he
was going to do the damn airplane. I wasn't a toddler for cripe's sake!
He smirked in victory, "I thought that would work."
I dutifully ate the rest of breakfast, I wasn't happy about it, but I did
it.
Nick was just finishing his, which was probably cold thanks to me, when his
cell phone rang. He picked it up and I could hear the person on the other
end of the phone talking loud and fast, obviously upset. Nick held the
phone away from his ear, "Brian! BRIAN!!! Woah, slow down! I can't
understand......what?! ......oh my god.....are you.....fuck!.....oh
shit......oooooh shit.......Howie?......is he ok?........jesus....what about
AJ?" He looked up at me. "Kev, sit down."
I sat on the edge of the bed and Nick looked at me, his eyes filled with
tears. "Stefanie had some fun last night...."
I closed my eyes, "Who did she kill?"
Nick looked surprised, "Uh, well...Brian woke up this morning to
find.....Tyke....he was hanging from the ceiling fan by a noose with a knife
stuck right through him and a knife stuck in the mattress right by Brian's
neck. He's pretty hysterical right now."
I felt my breakfast rising up inside me. This was all my fault. I caused
all of this. I opened my eyes and looked at Nick, "What about Howie?"
He swallowed, "She got into his place too. She....He woke up with his hair
scattered around him. She cut it off and the scissors were stuck into the
mattress right between his legs. A little too close for comfort if you know
what I mean."
I felt my breakfast hitting the back of my throat, the image of poor Tyke
stuck in my head. "AJ?"
Nick shuddered, "She tied him to his bed and dumped peroxide all over his
stomach and thighs. He didn't wake up until it started burning and he
couldn't move his hands to get it off. They are second degree burns, Kev."
That was it for my breakfast. With a gagging noise, I ran to the bathroom
just in time to spill everything from my stomach into the toilet. When I
had nothing left to throw up, I collapsed onto the floor.
This was all my fault. All of it. Oh my god. Poor AJ, she burned him
because of me. It was like she knew just what would hurt them the most. What
they valued the most. Brian treated Tyke like his kid. Howie had been
growing his hair for so long, was so particular about it and now it was gone
and the scissors between his legs was a clear threat to his masculinity.
And AJ. Oh my god. AJ. She burned him. She probably scarred him. He worked
so hard at his body, so insecure because he was so small. She burned him.
It was then that I knew she would never rest until she had me. She would not
give up until I was dead.
I got up off the floor. If it was a choice between me and my friends. Well
the choice was easy. I snuck out the other door of the bathroom, the one
that led to Nick's room and went down the stairs to the kitchen. I knew
what I needed.
Nick was still sitting on the bed, trying to calm Brian down. He was
getting concerned. I had been in the bathroom too long and it was too quiet.
He walked in and saw it empty. He closed his eyes and heard a noise from
downstairs. "Oh shit! Oh Brian, I think he's going to hurt himself!"
Brian's voice got even more panicked on the other end, "Oh shit! Did you
find him?"
Nick ran down the stairs as fast as his legs would move him and found me in
the kitchen, the biggest knife he had in my hand. Through adrenaline alone,
I managed to get my fingers curled around the thick handle enough to grasp
it. Nick skidded to a stop, "Kevin, drop the knife."
I just looked at the light glinting off of the blade, transfixed.
Nick stepped closer, "Kevin, drop the knife now. It's not going to help
anyone if you do this. Please Kev, don't."
I looked up at him, "She wants me dead. She won't stop until I am. Don't
you see that? She's going to hurt everyone around me. If she can't kill me
herself, she'll let the guilt do it. It's better this way Nick. Everyone
is happy." I raised the knife and brought it over my heart, the tip
sticking into my shirt a little. "Go Nick. I don't want you to see this."
Nick dropped the phone to the floor, "No. Drop the knife, Kev. I mean it."
I shook my head and pressed the knife closer to me, feeling the end going
through my shirt and straining the skin underneath to the breaking point.
"Nick go. Tell Brian I'll fix this right here, right now. Tell them all I'm
sorry."
I could hear Brian screaming into the phone. Yelling at me to drop the
knife, that he didn't blame me for this. That none of them did. Lies. all
lies. I knew it was my fault.
Nick grabbed a knife from the drawer that lay open and placed it over his
own heart, "You go, we go. You remember that? You go, we go. You do it and
I'm right behind you, Kevin. The only one who is to blame for this is
Stefanie. No one else. So if you want to do this, I'm ready whenever you
are. "
The silence in that kitchen was deafening. Then from nowhere a voice
started singing. It was Brian. His voice rose out of the cell phone
singing a song that my father had sung for me whenever I was scared or hurt
when I was a child. How did Brian even remember? He knew the power that
song had over me. I felt my fingers start going numb again and the knife
wavered in my hands.
Nick took the opportunity and dropped his knife to the floor and before I
could even react, had the knife pried out of my hand and thrown across the
kitchen, out of my reach. I collapsed into his arms, too stunned to say or
do anything but stare blankly ahead. He brought us both to the floor and
wrapped me in his arms as he picked up the cell phone. "Brian? I got him.
It's ok. I got him."
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