Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 52843 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 264(@200wpm)___ 211(@250wpm)___ 176(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52843 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 264(@200wpm)___ 211(@250wpm)___ 176(@300wpm)
“Justine,” Mr. Barrack whispers, taking a seat beside the shaken nurse in the main lobby. “It’s going to be ok.”
“Isa’s really gone?” Justine mutters, swiping her eyes. “No more telling her stories.”
“She’s gone. But she’ll be at peace now. She’s resting with the wild stories that live in her head. Remember she suffered daily, Justine. What we’ve done, we’ve only done to help her get through those days. I mean reliving the same story inside your head every single day? That’s a lot to take on for a schizophrenic.”
“We never were sure if she was a schizophrenic, though,” Justine adds. “It could be psychosis.”
“But she lost, that’s what we know. The good person lost in this story. You know, in the four months that she was dropped here out of the blue, I felt a connection to her.”
“She did lose, and I too, felt a connection to Isa, but Brooke must have killed her. There’s no other explanation. I hated Brooke’s visits. She’s vile.”
Justine smiles, swiping her eyes. “Isa was a great girl. Told a good story. I swear, her story will never get old. Bryant and Isa. We can only dream to have a relationship like that, and Isa did. Daily.” Justine fought back all of her emotions that were surrounding her.
“She was special.” Mr. Barrack adds sadly. “But unfortunately, we can’t win them all. Sometimes,” he looks over his shoulder and toward the door which leads you into where Isa’s padded room was.
“Sometimes the bad people win.”
24
Bryant
“Shhh,” I coo into Harper’s soft brown curls as I toss my hoodie over my head. “You need to be quiet, baby.” For being just over four-months old, she sure spoke a lot. I pause as I reach the door and look into the little window. I see her, Isa, sitting on the bed with her legs crossed and her head tilted. The straight jacket is wrapped tightly around her and just as I go to turn the door handle to let myself in, the way I’ve always snuck myself in, which always included Jerry and some secret service agents, Isa’s lip curls up in a sadistic smile that sets chills out over my spine.
That’s not Isa.
That’s Brooke.
My heart sinks and a ball of sadness rolls in the pit of my throat.
I lost her. After all this time, after all the fight I put in, I lost her.
I tuck Harper into my hood and run out the long corridor of the institution.
It’s just us now.
Just us.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and the name “The Reaper” displays across the screen. I slide it to unlock. “Devon. We need to fucking talk.”
The End
(for now)