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I tremble and shiver when somebody taps at the inside of my head.
“Can I have the gun?” Dad asks.
I shrug my shoulders. “What the fuck ever, I’m going to wake up in a minute anyway.”
I start to hand it over but my vision goes black and pain like I’ve never felt attacks the inside of my skull. It feels like my head is going to explode.
I fall to the ground in pain, screaming and seizing, bleeding from the nose. No. No. No. What the fuck is going on?
I can hear Nokosi yelling my name, telling me to fight it.
FUUUUUCKKKKK
This hurts.
It feels as though something, or someone is peeling away from me. My skin is on fire, my body an aching entity no longer under my control.
I writhe on the ground, resisting the urge to vomit and then I feel a slap around my face and the pain stops. I open my eyes and find the eyes of my sister.
“Get up,” she barks and I do so, confused and unsteady. She has a gun in her hand, the gun I took from those racist fucks at the gas stop. I still have a gun in my hand too, where is this one from? “Look what you did.”
I look around and scream when I see the body of Officer Deacon on the floor. My heart thumps against my ribs and I fall backwards onto Willow but she shoves me away from her. “I didn’t do this.”
She points at me with the gun. “You made me do it.”
“No. I didn’t. I swear. I would never…”
“You promised me blood.”
I look at Nokosi. “I couldn’t let you hurt him.”
“YOU FUCKING KILLED ME!”
“No… you’re standing right there.” I look at my dad who has his hand on Nokosi’s chest, holding him back.
“Remember?” Willow asks, tears falling down her cheeks. “It was YOU who made me go to the fucking party. It was YOU who wanted to live before you died. YOU KILLED ME! You made me a monster and then you slipped your pills into my drink, wrapped your hands around my throat when I was asleep and strangled me until I could no longer breathe.”
The memory surfaces, coming to life.
“What happened in Vegas?” my dad asks me.
With chattering teeth I reply, “I followed her, I suspected her for a while but I didn’t want to believe it and I saw her stab that boy in the stomach.” I look at Nokosi. “She was in so much pain and she told me… she told me how many she’d killed, what she’d done to them, that she needed it.” I wipe my eyes on my arm. “I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t stomach what I’d seen. I was so angry. She’d ruined everything. I was dying and my sister was dangerous. She wasn’t Willow anymore. I remember drugging her warm milk and waiting for her to fall asleep. And then I squeezed her throat… I thought it was mercy. I didn’t want anybody to know what she’d done. I didn’t want that to define our family but then Mom came home.”
I did. It was me.
I look at my dad and then Nokosi. “What’s going on, how is she here if I killed her? I don’t know what’s happening?”
“She’s not here,” Nokosi answers softly. “It’s all in your head, Lilith. It’s been you this whole time.”
“We found your mother’s body in her car deep down a steep decline just days after we found your sister’s and I’ve been looking for you ever since,” Daddy whispers, smiling with so much sorrow and anguish my lip trembles. “Your blood was in the passenger seat. We knew you’d been in the wreck and knew you must have been hurt, you saw your mom die less than hours after your sister. You couldn’t handle the trauma of losing your family, so you created a new one. A replica. You became both Willow and Lilith, and Willow took on your sickness so that Lilith could be strong. Think about it. Look at your memories… they’re Lilith’s memories—”
“No,” I look at my sister who is standing beside me, as solid as my father. “You’re the one who’s dead.”
“Look at me,” Nokosi orders, stepping closer but not close enough to touch me. “I’m not dead. I’m telling you; your father is alive and your sister, whoever or whatever you’re seeing right now, isn’t there.”
I reach out a hand and so does she. Our fingers touch.
But she’s cold.
I stagger a sob. “Are you dead? Did I kill you?”
When she nods, I break down. My body is pained with hysterical tears and agony. It’s too much. It comes flooding back so quickly and violently that all the grief slams into me, buckling my knees. I can feel my hands around her throat, squeezing the life from her limp body.
