Conroy

Isla

My head hurts, I rub at my temples to try to relieve the ache.

My Mother is trying and failing miserably to offer me any kind of comfort rubs her palm up and down my back, it is more irritating than soothing and I shift to try to escape the feeling of being touched.

The words I have been dreading for months spill from officer Beck’s mouth as he fidgets with the paperwork in his hands, the reality of his words cuts me deeper than any knife ever could.

“I am so sorry it is not the news you had hoped for Miss Sussex, we have done everything we can, I am afraid with the lack of evidence we recovered it is looking more like Mr Peterson just doesn’t want to be found.”

Two days later...

The bed dips and I know who it is before she even speaks.

“Go away, Mum, I told you to just leave me be.”

She sighs sadly and I feel the weight lift from the mattress.

She won’t listen and I don’t want to be mean, I know she’s worried about me God knows I am worried about myself, I am sinking into a deep hole and there doesn’t seem to be anyway out.

I can’t deal with other people right now especially my Mother who is constantly fussing around me, they’re all expecting me to snap out of this ruckus, smile and skip around like Daisy Fucking Sunshine. News flash Mother not going to happen.

I just want Kevin to call and tell me he’s ok or walk through the door with some god-awful excuse to why he hasn’t been home for four months, two weeks, three days and... I raise my head and look at my clock realising I launched it across the room weeks ago when the cops had rung to tell me there was still no news.

I swipe away renegade tears that soak my already red and blotchy cheeks.

“Sweetheart, you need to eat, you’ve barely touched any food for two days now, you’re going to get sick.”

My Mother’s finger sweep my unruly blond hair off my face, strands stick to the dried moisture stinging my skin. I look at her blankly, wishing more than anything I could take that pain from her eyes when she looks at me; but I am lost in my own world of self-loathing. Nothing is going to fill this hollow in the pit of my stomach.

Only Kevin.

One week later....

I managed to shower and brush my teeth, that was a feat. I am chuffed with myself. I was beginning to stink. Next week I might actually manage to step a foot outside my front door, ha yeah right, don’t be stupid Isla that would mean getting dressed and then there’s that business of seeing other people. No, I am quite happy in my hovel, binge watching Netflix and drooling over Charlie Hunnam’s six pack, Yum!

My sister Clare walks in with my favourite mug and places the steaming hot coffee on my bedside table, I manage half a smile at her, she has been holding the fort for the last few days while Mum has been in work. I hear them talking of a night when they think I’m asleep.

They think I’ll do myself some damage if I am left to my own devices... they are probably right. The idea of carving up my skin to relieve some of this tension building inside me has been overwhelming just lately.

I made a promise I would never do that again. I can’t lose the last piece I have left of my sanity; I am holding on so tight. If I let go, this time there won’t be any coming back.

It was a dark and dangerous fall into the abyss, and I managed to drag my battered and broken psyche out of that hole and claw my way into the light.

That was six years ago now and I don’t plan on travelling that road again no matter how bad things get... and they are pretty shit.

One week and three days later...

I’m up, dressed and ready for a day on the sofa, it’s been a productive hour since I rolled my lazy ass out of bed.

Clare is pottering about in the kitchen. It’s the first day I’ve felt like eating anything without the thought making me want to gag.

The amazing big sister she is, Clare got to work straight away, offering me all kinds of fruit, cream and chocolate on my pancakes but as usual when I am in the mood for my favourite breakfast food I settle for crispy bacon and maple syrup, my mouth salivates and my stomach growls loudly.

I know what her game is, I am aware of how much weight I’ve lost, the cord on my sweats is tied as tight I could get it, I have the mini rope burns on my fingers to prove it, but they still fall down when I walk.

I tug on the loose waist band to prove a point to no one in particular. Yes, Isla you need to get out of this funk, get back to work and stop moping about.

Fuck my life.

“Isla, there’s an envelope here for you, it was just posted through the door.” Clare shouts from the hall pulling me out of my self-loathing, her slim frame filling the lounge doorway, her blue eyes full of confusion as she places the large brown and slightly crinkled envelope next to me on the love seat before heading back to the kitchen.

I pick it up straight away eagerly tearing at the tough paper, the edge of it slices through the bend in my right index finger giving me a paper cut, I automatically pop into my mouth, tasting the metallic blood, after a couple of seconds I grow impatient and begin tearing open the envelope again, not bothered about the little smears of red I am leaving on the paper.

My hands shake as I pull out another smaller envelope inside. My name is roughly scrolled across the front and looks like it contains a letter, there is a photograph that has been enlarged onto another sheet of paper, I pull it out and I swear my heart stops, my throat grows dry and my hands begin to tremble as I take in the person in the picture.

Clear as day there is an image of Kevin sitting in the passenger seat of a black Mercedes, he is laughing at something the driver is saying, he’s unharmed, healthy and has the biggest grin on his face. I process the features of the driver, he’s a dark-haired male with a gruff looking beard and expensive looking sunglasses, he is smirking in Kevin’s direction. It wasn’t anyone I’ve met before, maybe it was one of his work colleagues?

I inspect the date.

“Mother Fucker!” I curse unable to suppress the rage building deep inside my gut.

This was taken two weeks ago,

What did this mean? Who was he with? How could he do this to me?

I need answers.