Unravel
Coming Soon 2013
Synopsis:
Four months ago, I was happy. I was simply Naomi Carradine.
Two months ago, I was admitted into a psych ward.
Yesterday, Lachlan Halstead visited me. Kissed me. And told me that I’m starting to lose my mind.
Hours later, Alexander Cole haunted my thoughts, reminding me I’m not crazy and that he needs my help.
A few minutes ago, I drifted further from reality, trying to unravel the past.
And now… everyone thinks I’m insane. But, I know he’s real, and I know he needs me.
Do you believe me?
TEASER!!
Read the first chapter below:
ONE
Present
Darkness seems to find you, even if
you’re not looking for it.
When it does, it pulls you under until your
whole life hazy and unclear. Everything that was once your security—your family,
friends, and goals—becomes a false illusion.
My life has been shrouded
by the truth. Instantly, I stopped existing and quickly became sucked into a
black abyss with no way out.
Who really knows how long I’ve been here?
My little room with its white walls and carpeted floors. Maybe a few days, or
maybe a few months? I’ve discovered that time stops here and the world exists
around your meds. I take my medication religiously because I want silence from
the memories that torture my mind.
My fingers tap against the windowpane
over and over, creating its own tune. I watch the fly, a few inches in front of
me, frantically moving across the window, trying to find a way out into the
sunlight.
“I’ve already tried, dummy,” I say dully. “They have these
windows dead bolted.”
The fly stops moving, like it can hear me, before
it practically flings itself at the window. Sooner or later, it’s going to find
a way out. I feel jealousy surge through my body. I want to slam my palm against
this insect, killing any chances of it escaping.
This is what my life
has been stripped down to. I’m jealous of a fucking fly.
Months ago, I
would have laughed at the idea of me being here, stuck in a psychiatric
hospital.
Involuntary commitment was how they admitted me. The choice
was never mine. They think I’m a risk to myself and the people around me. I
think they’re not listening to me. If they would, they would see the truth. They
would know I’m not lying.
Loudly, someone knocks on my door.
One, two, three…
Three is the magic number for my nurse. It’s
like those few seconds will give her time to brace herself for whatever will be
on the other side of the door.
Mary peeks her head into the room before
she opens the door wider. She stands in the doorway and looks me up and down.
“Naomi, you have a visitor.”
I take in her short brown hair and her
colorful scrubs. That’ll probably be the only color I see all day.
I
feel hopeless. Nearly every second of the day. But the nurse’s words make me sit
up straighter. My heart instantly starts to race. Only two people consistently
visit me: my mom and Lachlan.
Calmly, I stand up. Before I walk over to
Mary, I look back at the window. The fly’s gone.
“Lucky,” I mumble under
my breath.
Mary gives me a look as I walk past her. We walk down the
sterile hallway, toward the rec room. She doesn’t offer conversation. In fact,
she looks as miserable as me.
“Don’t look so depressed, Mary,” I say
with a smirk. She looks at me with her signature solemn face. I continue
speaking with the same dark smile on my face. “You have access to all the good
drugs. You could be as high as a kite.”
Kind of like me at night.
Typical. She doesn’t respond, just guides me forward with a firm shove.
A doctor and nurse walk by, murmuring quietly to each other. They don’t
acknowledge me but they say hi to Mary.
That’s the thing with this
staff. They treat the patients like animals at a zoo. We’re a species that make
no sense to them. They use the nurturing tactic at the beginning. Their
questions are asked with calm, kind voices. And when that doesn’t work, they
switch to shoving pills down your throat.
I don’t fight them. But I know
of people that do. I hear them screaming at night. The nurses run down the
hallway and a few seconds later those screams will turn into moans before they
stop all together. It used to scare me. Those screams used to send a chill down
my spine. They would echo in my ears hours after they were gone.
Now I’m
used to it.
We walk into the open rec room. It’s bright in here. The
blinds are open, letting in the light. Tables are spread throughout the room. A
few people are sitting down. No one spares me a glance. No one really cares.
Two things happen when you’re here: you’re either petrified, or you’ve
given up and stopped feeling altogether.
If it weren’t for Lachlan, I
would stop feeling.
The corners of my mouth lift at the sight of him.
He’s sitting at a table next to the windows, his face turned toward the window.
His tanned hand reaches up and loosens his dark blue silk tie. His dark blonde
hair is still cut short with a few strands brushing his forehead. His thick
brows are slanted low, as his dark brown eyes scan the outdoors.
If I
blink, he’s just a boy. With glasses and a small frame. My best friend. When I
open my eyes that image disappears, and in front of me is a man. Glasses are
gone; his body has filled out. I gave him a piece of my heart as a kid, and now,
at twenty, I’ve given him my entire soul.
Either way, he’s always been
an extension of me. But you can’t be that close to someone and expect your pain
not to spread. I know that my sadness is his sadness.
Swallowing, I look
in the same direction and notice he’s staring at a naked tree closest to the
window. The same tree I always look at. I’ve watched the branches become
stripped of leaves and bow to the cold wind. But for the last week, I’ve watched
the frozen water drop on one of the lower branches. It hangs there, looking
ready to fall at any second.
The weak branch sways in the air, but the
water drop never falls, and I think that if it can hang on, then I can hang on
to the small bit of sanity I have left.
Walking quietly to the table, I
pull out the chair across from Lachlan. His head snaps toward me. His eyes
soften as he looks at me. He still treats me like a person, someone with a soul.
He never looks at me as something that needs to be fixed.
“How are you?”
Lachlan asks quietly.
Placing my feet on the edge of the seat, I rest my
chin on my knees, refusing to look away from his dark brown eyes. It’s only been
two days since he last visited me. But the time between those visits seems to
stretch further and further apart. “I’m the same as two days ago.”
“Your
mom said you’re on new medicine?”
Am I? That’s news to me. At the end of
the day, it doesn’t matter what I take as long as it makes me forget.
“I
think so,” I tell him.
Lachlan stares at me levelly. His brown eyes are
sharp. They miss nothing. “You’re talking…some. That has to help.”
It
should help, but it makes everything worse. I look out the window, away from his
gaze.
An exhausted sigh escapes him. Lachlan drags his hands through his
hair before he rubs his eyes. “I miss you, Naomi.”
“I miss you too,” I
whisper.
“You know you don’t belong here, right?”
I nod. “I
know.”
“Then you need to try and get better.” His eyes drift over the
people in the room. “It fucking kills me to leave you here,” he admits gruffly.
Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I nod and extend my hand, placing
it on top of Lach’s. His eyes become hooded as he looks at my small, pale hand
placed over his own. He turns his hand over and his fingers caress my wrist,
making my skin burn. With his palm face up, he swallows my hand within his own.
“You love me?” he asks quietly.
I look Lachlan in the eyes as I answer.
“I do,” my voice cracks.
Lachlan nods his head. There should be hope in
my words, but he just looks deflated. “If you love me, then you need to get
better.”
It’s so easy to tell someone else what they should do. What
Lachlan doesn’t know is that I’m trying so hard to get better. He doesn’t know
that I spend every night recanting every memory that I have. Just to prove that
none of it was a dream.
“I’m trying,” I insist.
Lachlan’s grip
tightens on my hand. “No, you’re not,” he responds firmly.
“I can’t
ignore everything that’s happened!” Lachlan’s lips go into a firm line. He looks
out the window as he talks. “When it takes over your life like this, maybe it’s
best to let it all go and move on.”
“You-“
“You need to move
forward,” Lachlan interrupts. “Everything you think you think you saw…maybe it
never happened.”
“That’s low,” I whisper darkly. “I expect everyone else
to say that, but not you.”
He drags his free hand over his face and
looks down at our intertwined hands. “This is destroying you,” he murmurs. “The
Naomi I know would have never just given up so quickly. She would have fought to
stay in the present.”
Lachlan’s right. I clutch my hair tightly and pull
until my scalp tingles. “He needs my help, Lach,” I moan.
The two of us
know who ‘he’ is. Lachlan ignores him. I can’t.
Alexander Cole is as
much in my life as Lachlan but for completely different reasons. Rubbing the
bridge of his nose, Lachlan looks down at the table. “Where does it stop Naomi?
You’re at rock bottom,” he grits out. “I want you to get better.”
“I
will,” I insist. “I just need more time and”
Suddenly, Lachlan leans
forward with an intense look on his face. “You know why you’re here?” he
demands. I stay silent and he continues, his voice louder, demanding to be
heard. “You tried to kill yourself.”
I flinch because truth or not, I
can’t go up against Lachlan’s words. He’s going to come out as the sane one. His
words will make sense before mine ever will.
Leaning closer, I say my
words quickly. “I didn’t try to kill myself,” I say darkly. “You know I wouldn’t
do that.”
Lachlan places his elbows on the table and mimics my actions.
“I used to believe that. But things have changed. Stop living in your mind,
Naomi. Be present,” he pauses and lowers his voice to an aching whisper, “with
me.”
My heart thunders in my ears and I know Lachlan can feel the
pounding of my pulse. Slowly, I shake my head back and forth. That’s the closest
I can come to an answer.
It’s not good enough for Lachlan. I know he
wants me to promise that I’ll never mention Alexander. That I’ll give in and
admit that everyone might be right.
His free hand wraps around the back
of my neck and yanks me close. That one small action makes me feel like myself
again.
There’s a two second pause where he looks me in the eye. A pause
that makes my stomach twist and my blood roar through my veins. He wants to say
more, but nothing comes out of his mouth. With a curse he kisses me hard on the
mouth.
Instantly, it wakes me up. And that’s what a good kiss should do.
It should make you come alive. It speaks to you the minute your lips connect.
You don’t think. You react. For Lachlan and I, it’s always been this way. All I
can hear from this kiss is, ‘Remember me. I’m real.’
I respond back the
only way I know how, the way Lachlan showed me. His hands hold my face in place.
The pressure of his lips decreases when I move my mouth against his. He makes a
noise and grips my face tighter. It triggers who I used to be. The memories
start to play out and I squeeze my eyes tight.
Every memory has Lachlan.
And in each one, I’m smiling. I’m happy.
For a small moment, I feel at
peace. Lachlan’s tongue slips in between my lips. A shudder goes through me as I
open my mouth wider. My fingers move up his arms, toward his neck and before we
can go further, someone clears their throat next to us.
Lachlan pulls
away first, but his brown eyes stay rooted on my face. His lips are swollen from
our kiss and I’m sure mine are the same. I lick my lips, trying to get a piece
of that kiss back. Mary clears her throat louder this time. Reluctantly, I look
up at her scowling face, feeling Lachlan’s eyes on me the whole time.
With her arms crossed, she glares at Lachlan. “Mr. Halstead, I think
it’s time for you to leave,” she says firmly.
Slowly, he removes his
hand from the back of my neck. My skin instantly feels cold. Limply, my arms
fall to the table as I watch Lachlan stand up. He looks at Mary, saying nothing,
but making his request obvious. She walks away, but it’ll only be for a few
minutes.
Bending down, his brown eyes are only inches away from me. “I
can’t keep doing this,” he whispers in a pained voice.
“I need you to
visit me. It’s the only thing keeping me going,” I admit hoarsely. Lachlan
frowns down at the table. My fingers reach out and I grip the collar of his
shirt, forcing him to look directly at me. At this point, I’m desperate. I know
I’m losing him. “Do you think I’m lying?” I ask.
A tense silence wraps
around us. He looks at me through his eyelashes, his expression grim. One by one
his fingers wrap around my wrists. Firmly, he pulls my fingers off his shirt. “I
think you need help,” he says slowly.
Imagine having one good thing.
Something that kept you sane when everything around you is completely messed up.
Imagine having that something good ripped out of your life with only five simple
words.
I think you need help.
I rub my eyes with my palms,
moving my head back and forth in denial because if Lachlan stops coming I’m
afraid of what will happen. My sanity is being held by a threadbare string. I’ll
break before that frozen water drop ever does.
Feeling his hand on my
shoulder makes me shake. He squeezes once. I keep my hands from reaching out and
keeping him next to me.
His hand drifts away, and he’s gone.
I
watch him for only a few seconds before my world starts to tilt. His retreating
figure becomes hazy and the rec room shrinks into a bedroom. The lights morph
into a dim glow. And the walls change colors. I squeeze my eyes shut and rub the
back of my palms against my eyelids. There’s no reason to open my eyes. I know
what I saw seconds before will be the new setting of the room.
This is
how it always starts out.
My pounding heart starts to slow and the
vision in my head starts to clear instantly.
Suddenly, I’m facing a
mirror, staring at my reflection. I don’t look the same. I look refreshed,
happy, and even beautiful. My blonde hair is styled in finger waves, one side
pulled up with a golden barrette. My cheeks have color and my eyes have life in
them. I’m back to being Naomi.
My body is covered with a gold dress that
skims the floor. The silk material clings to my curves.
Turning to the
side, I see my entire back is exposed. Quickly, my attention goes from the
dress, to the male sitting in the corner of the room. My lips curve up and my
blood instantly goes hot, as I watch this beautiful man through the mirror. He
rests his ankle against his opposite knee. His expression is casual and the
dimple on his right cheek makes him seem boyish. But his full lips curve up into
a masculine smile that is anything but boyish.
He stands to his full
height and I watch as he slides his black blazer over his wide shoulders,
covering up his white shirt and black suspenders. His black bow tie is undone
and hang around his neck like a black ribbon.
His light brown hair is
longer than it should be, stopping around his jaw. It’s unruly and looks like
someone’s hands have been through it. But he doesn’t care. That’s the thing with
Alexander. He brushes past every single rule and goes his own route.
Adjusting the collar of his jacket, he walks up behind me. His entire
body surrounds me, easily swallowing me up. The top of my head reaches his
strong jawline. My hands are laced in front of me, but it’s only to hide my
shaking.
This is my only way of seeing Alexander Cole. I take this
moment like a lifeline and I hold on for as long as I can.
It never
lasts long. But each time I see him, I become convinced that it will be
different, that he won’t disappear on me.
I take in his strong jaw that
travels up to sharp cheekbones. His skin is free of stubble and tan from the
sun. It makes his hazel eyes even brighter. He steps closer and his fingertips
brush against the bare skin of my back. I shiver.
“Beautiful,” he
murmurs in his slow Southern drawl.
I smile at Alexander and he lifts a
brow in return and gives me a lazy smile.
Pulling my hair to the side,
he wraps both of his hands around my arms, encouraging me to lean against him. I
go willingly and when my back feels his strong body, I practically sigh. He
stares at me through the mirror and slowly leans down to kiss me on the
shoulder. His teeth graze my skin. I make a noise and tilt my head further to
the side.
He asks the same question Lachlan asked moments ago. “Do you
love me, Naomi?” he asks gruffly.
My body still reacts at the way he
says my name. I can barely swallow, so I give him a blunt nod as he moves in
closer and breathes me in.
I do love him. In the most twisted,
impossible way. Alexander smirks at me in the mirror, like he knows what I’m
thinking. His hand moves from my neck and drifts lower. I watch as his large,
tanned hand stops where my heart beats. His palm lays flat against my skin and
his fingers spread.
His eyes go half-mast as he watches my reaction in
the mirror. The tip of his nose brushes against my cheek. My hands go into
fists, and I watch in fascination as he kisses the curve of my cheekbone.
“If you love me then don’t give up,” he says deeply.
“I promise
I won’t,” I say out loud.
I know what’s next. And I’m desperate for this
time to be different. So I lean even further into him and smell his scent. For
me, someone that’s stuck in this place with its sterile walls and musty scent,
it’s refreshing. It might be better than anything.
The scent wraps
around me before it disappears. Just like that, he’s already fading. I whimper
and lean into him forcefully.
He’s gone and I’m falling.
My
shoulder blades hit the back of my chair. I jump in pain and shock. Rapidly, my
heart pounds in my ribcage, and I take deep, shallow breaths, trying to calm my
heart.
“Naomi, are you okay?”
Someone touches my shoulder. I
flinch and look up, finding Mary staring down at me. How long has she been
standing there?
Her face is etched with concern as she waits for me to
answer. I swallow loudly and shake my head. Painfully, my fingers dig into my
thighs while my body shakes with pent-up frustration.
“It’s time for
your medicine.”
I stand up and give Mary a blunt nod before I follow her
back to my room.
My body is running on adrenaline from everything I just
felt, and a sweat breaks out across my forehead because those memories were
mine.
I know I’m not making Alexander up. I know I’m not imagining
anything. And what scares the hell out of me is that all those facts change
nothing.
The only fact that really matters is that everyone thinks I’m
crazy. And now, the one person that has consistently been there for me is losing
hope.
Tonight, I would rather take the drugs than think about what is
stacked against me.
Tomorrow, I’ll accept that in order to unravel my
story, I’ll have to be destroyed in the process. Just like that frozen water
drop outside, it’s inevitable that I break.
Going, going…gone.
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