Twenty To Life

March 2000

“Shh, someone will hear us!” Alice giggles as I run my fingers along her jaw.

“Then let them.” I press my lips to hers, and feel myself smile. This never gets old. Her arms wrap around my neck and draw me closer. I pull back after a moment and look into her soft blue eyes. “I love you, Alice.”

“I love you too, Caroline,” her voice is breathless, but that’s alright. We don’t talk much for a little while anyway.

We lay on the old blankets for hours, the air coming through the barn’s windows cooling our bare skin. I glance over at the brunette in my arms and press a kiss to her temple.

...

December 2020

The sound of the barn door hitting the wall brings me back to reality. I shiver as the winter wind seeps through my jacket. I don’t know why I came back here; It’s been twenty years.

I look around the old building, turning in a slow circle. The wood is rotting now, stained and warped with water damage. I laugh humorlessly as I look at the blankets still tucked into the back corner. They’re nearly destroyed now, but they’re still exactly where we left them.

I walk forward automatically, not really thinking about what I’m doing. I don’t want to approach the tattered remnants of our secret place, but I feel myself moving toward them regardless.

I swallow as I approach, hoping that just maybe the sunlight has faded them or rats have eaten them away so I won’t see what I see every night when I close my eyes. My breathing is shallow as I look down at the scraps of fabric. They’re intact enough for me to see the dull, reddish brown stains splattered across them.

...

July 2000

My eyes are getting heavy, and I know we should go back to our houses soon, but I can’t make myself move away from the woman tucked into my arms. I lean down and press a soft kiss to her forehead.

She stirs a little and gives me a sleepy smile. I tighten my arms around her waist, drawing her even closer to me. We both live for these stolen moments. I sigh softly, and she pulls back enough to look into my eyes. “What’s on your mind, C?”

I hesitate for a moment before I respond. “I wish we could really be together. Like be open about it, you know? I want to take you on dates and kiss you under mistletoe and marry you. I don’t want us to have to hide who we are because of our families.”

“I want those things too.” She pauses for a moment before continuing. “We both leave for school next month. We’re going to be roommates because for all our parents know, we’re just the best of friends, right? We won’t have to hide it as much there. It’s 2000! It’s a brand new millennium. It’s our time, I just know it, C.” All the hope and excitement in her voice make me feel like maybe she’s right. Maybe we won’t have to hide forever.

I grin at her as she bites her lip, and I shift to roll on top of her. I kiss her, hoping she feels how much I love her. Her fingers run down my back, my skin tingling with every touch. She starts to whisper something in my ear when the barn door opens with a clang.

I roll off of Alice and sit up, yanking a blanket around my body. I feel Alice shrink, and I move to shield her instinctively. There’s a sort of ringing in my ears, and everything is moving in slow motion. My heart pounds, and I blink, trying to focus.

“You nasty little girls! I knew you were worthless, I knew it!” A woman’s shrill voice clears the fog from my brain.

“I’ll teach you both a lesson you’ll never forget,” a man growls. Alice’s dad. I look behind him and see my parents, shock written all over their faces. My attention snaps back to my girlfriend’s father as he towers above us.

Pain flares through my cheek as he slaps me with the back of his hand. Once, twice, again. I can taste the blood filling my mouth, but I won’t move away from Alice. I have to protect her. I take a couple punches and vaguely hear my parents shouting for him to stop.

“Dad, please!” Alice cries behind me. The pain stops for a moment before her mother approaches and yanks me away by my hair. She spits on me and turns back to her daughter. I’m fighting unconsciousness, but I force my eyes to stay open. “Caroline, I love you!”

“I love you too!” I force the words out despite the pain. Alice’s eyes meet mine seconds before her father continues his assault, now focused on her. The fear and pain in her eyes nearly breaks me; her screams hurt me more than any punch her dad threw. They’re loud at first, but after a while, there are no screams at all.

“Alice! Alice!” I cry when her father finally steps back. I can’t see her face because her hair is in the way. I start to crawl toward my love, but I feel gentle hands grab my shoulders and pull me back. “No!” I struggle weakly as I’m pulled to my feet.

“Come on, Caroline, come on,” my mother’s voice is both soothing and afraid.

“Why isn’t Alice getting up? Why isn’t she moving?” My voice breaks; I already know the truth.

...

December 2021

I reach up to touch my face, and my fingers come away wet. When did I start crying? Sometimes I wonder what my life would’ve been like if we hadn’t been caught that night. If we had been born to any other parents in 1982, maybe we would’ve been alright. Maybe we could’ve lived “happily ever after” as they say.

I’ve lived for twenty years without seeing her face. At least that changes today. From what I hear, she hasn’t said one word since that night. It’s a pity; she had so much to offer this world. I turn around and stalk out of the barn without a backward glance.

After a short drive, I pull up to the long-term care facility and park in a spot close to the doors. I switch my car off and sit back for a moment, trying to collect my thoughts. What is it going to be like when I see her again? Will she remember me? Will her eyes have the same light in them they had last time we spoke? What if there’s just nothing there? My heart begins to speed up again, so I close my eyes and take a few deep breaths.

By the time I walk into the building ten minutes later, I’ve regained most of my composure. I smile warmly at the older woman sitting behind the desk in the reception area. “Hi, I’m here to visit Alice Collins,” I say once I approach.

“Alice Collins? I’m glad she finally has a visitor. Sweet woman hasn’t had anyone visit since she got here ten years ago. She’s in room 205, take a left at the end of this hallway. Her door is the last one on the right.” She hands me a visitor badge, and I clip it to my shirt before thanking her and walking in the direction she indicated. It doesn’t take me long to find Alice’s room. The door is left open just a little, so I take a deep breath and knock before walking in.

There she is. She’s sitting in a wheelchair, facing away from the door. Her brown hair hangs limply, and she’s hunched over a little. My heart is pounding, and I can’t contain it anymore. I don’t care if she remembers me or not. I don’t care if she never says another word. I don’t care about how hard life may be from here on out. She’s here. She’s alive. That’s all I could hope for.

I glance to her nightstand, and my eyes widen. The note I wrote her nineteen years ago is there, folded and refolded, as if she reads it often. I try to swallow down the hope that begins to swell in my chest.

My hands shake as I walk around her wheelchair and bend down so my eyes are level with hers. I open my mouth to say something, but she beats me to it: “Caroline.”

…

August 2000

I don’t move as the sirens get closer. I’m not going to run or deny it. They got what they deserved. I let the gun clatter to the floor in front of me before I walk out of the barn, my hands above my head.

I stay in that position until the police come and handcuff me. When they asked me why I did it an hour later, I told them it was self-defense. They’d beaten me to a pulp and nearly killed their daughter. It was the only way to keep us safe.

When they close the cell doors behind me, I smile. I’ll come back for her. Twenty years isn’t too long, right?