Page 94 of Kill Me

Maybe today’s our lucky day!

It’s dark and cold. Rain falls from the sky, settling on my skin, the kind of rain that falls softly but drenches you, making you cold to the bone. I have no coat on, the same T-shirt and jeans I left home in—now with rips and blood soaking them—and my belly is exposed, along with my bra. How the fuck did I get here?

“Eric, stop her! How are you just gonna let her kill your only sister? It’s always been us. I love you. It doesn’t matter what you’ve done; you’re my brother, we can work through this.” I don’t even believe the words that are coming from my mouth. They taste sour. Like they could curdle at any second, like gone-off milk. The only thing I’m thinking about is survival. Which is fucking ironic because all I’ve wanted for the last twenty-one years is to die.

“Well, Sis. I don’t love you. She’s right. It’s all about you. The older you get, the more you turn into Mum, and I can’t afford to have two of you in my life,” Eric snarls.

Keelan attempts to talk, “Quinn, I’m sorry—” His voice triggers the flashback of him telling me what they had done to me. It flickers through my mind, but it’s glitchy. Like when you used to connect a camcorder to the TV to watch a home movie, and it could never stay static. I gag, and Millie jumps back. I heave so hard I could swear my stomach is about to exit through my mouth; I take my moment, pulling myself to my feet and try to pull my arm from her grasp, but as I take my second step, I’m yanked back by my ponytail. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going, bitch?” Eric’s breath dances across my neck, the bitterness of his sweat seeps into my nose, and it takes everything in me not to eradicate the contents of today's dinner in his face.

“Shut the fuck up,” Eric bellows. “We wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for your big fucking mouth! It was supposed to stay between us. A bit of harmless fun between friends. But no, this prick has to have a conscience.”

“Harmless? You call raping your sister harmless?” Keelan's voice is loud. Firm. He’s not backing down.

While they’re arguing with each other, Millie is trying to drag me from the alleyway and towards the road. There are bushes on either side, so unfortunately for me, I’m covered from the oncoming traffic. Eric's grip on my hair tightens as he wraps my hair around his hand. It’s like a tug of war between them despite the fact that their end goal is apparently the same. To kill me.

Kinky. This really isn’t the time for your dark humour, Quinny. Get a grip.

You have fucking issues.

I’m struggling with her, trying to free myself, to no avail, wondering if it’s possible to tear every strand of hair from my head with one final tug, but the sharpness of the pain in my ribs takes my breath away. It’s survival of the fittest. I mean, I’m not exactly the fittest. The fattest? Yes. But I couldn’t run to save my life. Ironic, huh?

The back and forth between them deludes me into thinking I have a chance at getting away, but then clearly I’ve never been in touch with reality, because who knew my best friend was a two-faced, back-stabbing bitch? Not me, that’s for sure.

“WAIT!” I scream. “I promise, I won’t tell. I’ll never talk to any of you again. I’ll leave town, I’ll leave the country if I have to, but, please, just let me live. Think of Mum and Dad. They’ll be devastated.”

Eric chuckles. It’s a dark chuckle. Like, there’s something I’m not privy to. “I’m doing you a favour. It’s not like you’ve appreciated your life so far, is it? My poor big sister. You really do have no idea, do you? They know all about it; they want you gone, too. Nothing but a drain on society and their bank accounts, according to them. Any last words?”

I mean, they’re not wrong. You are a bit of a drain. Well, as much of a drain on society as someone as big as you can be.

“They know you both raped me?” Disbelief floods my brain. My mum, I can almost believe it, but my dad, never.

“It’s not rape if you enjoy yourself, you little fucking slut,” Millie seethes.

“They know you had a wild night with Dane, that you woke up the next morning and regretted it, and that while I was consoling you, you made a pass at me, too. They said the books you read have clearly corrupted your mind.”

Panic crawls up my throat; the taste of bile bubbles along with it. Millie’s nails are digging into my skin so hard, I’m sure they’ll be embedded in my arms forever, the sting adding to the overwhelming feelings drowning my body. Cars speed past, horns beeping, and I don’t know how they can’t fucking see me at this point. We’re out of the bushes and on the corner of the road. I know it’s dark, but they have fucking headlights. Are they blind? Or just selective with their morals?

Dane stalks towards me, reaching for my other arm, almost as if to pull

me back in.

HA, SUCKKERRRRRR!!!!

“Bro, you’re not actually going to do this, are you?” Dane panics. “Having sex with her is one—”

“I think you mean rape…” I interrupt, determined not to let them get the last word in before they kill me off, but wishing for once my mouth could just shut up with its comebacks and let someone else have the last word.

“Do you know what, you silly little cunt…” Anger spreads over Dane’s face, and as he pushes me back to Eric, I realise my mistake. “I’m not a fucking rapist. You came. Your body enjoyed it. You were dripping for my cock.”

“It’s called an autonomic response. I’m not in control of it. If someone raped you, you’d get hard and maybe come, too.” I scream so loud my voice breaks.

“I’M A FUCKING MAN! No one could ever rape me.” The world stops turning.

I’m delirious at this point. My brain hurts. My mind is tired. Every cell in my body is on fire. But I can’t stop myself from letting out what I can only describe as a sadistic, almost inhumane, chuckle. One of those that I would imagine a murderer elicits over his victim before that final blow. Ironic, really, because in this situation, I’m not the murderer; I’m the murderee, and the only thing I can think is that if I live past the next few minutes, one day, you’ll know just how it feels to be in this moment. Watch this space.

“Maybe you would be doing me a favour. At least I wouldn’t have to look at your faces knowing what you’ve done to me. Go on, do it. KILL. ME.” I spit the words at them like they’re laced with venom.

“I’m going to fuck you up, you fat cunt!” Millie takes my hair from Eric, yanking my head to the side so my neck is at a ninety-degree angle; pain ricochets through the nerve endings, turning me around so that my back is towards the road. I look to my left, and the headlights of a car come hurtling around the roundabout, clearly accelerating in speed as it comes onto the dual carriageway, and for a split-second, I consider flinging my body in front of it and taking away the satisfaction from them, but before my brain can make sense of what happens, her hands meet my chest, and she pushes me, hard, into the road. My feet lift off of the ground, my arms wailing around me, and the feeling of nothing envelops my body. The pain is gone, the voices are gone. The silence is stunning, serene, almost.