CHAPTER FIVE

Everything Affects Everything Nakita . . .

Another sleepless night and my thoughts are consuming me once again. I am a ticking time bomb. All I want to do is escape. No matter how hard I try, the voices won’t shut up. They won’t leave me alone. They’re getting louder and louder.

You’re no good.

Everyone will be better off if you were gone.

You should have been in the car, not Shakita.

You should just kill yourself.

“Shut up. Leave me alone,” I whimper. I need to silence these voices. I look down at my phone and scroll through my contact list as I use my free hand to take another swig from my bottle of cabernet sauvignon.

“There she is.” I press the telephone icon and dial the number.

This constant conflict between my unhappiness and my will to live is taking a toll on me. I need energy; I’m defenseless to fight this battle—the battle for my life—which is impossible to win. Ever since I was born, darkness has been my way of life. I was born like this. I don’t want to pass any of this to my Adrianna. I’ve given her all that I can at this point. I can’t fight off these dark thoughts. At this point, my only solitude or glimmer of hope is death. It will finally bring me the peace I so desperately seek.

Suicide feels like the best solution for relief, I think to myself as Dr. Binet’s voice mail picks up.

“H-Hello? Dr. Binet? I didn’t know who else to call—” I begin, but then I cut myself off. “Forget it.” I disconnect the call, then take another swig from the bottle.

I need to do something. I have to try to get these thoughts under control. But I am a burden to everyone. I am to the point where I have no feelings of happiness or sadness. The only thing I believe is real is the emptiness that I feel on the inside. This on-again, off-again battle is making me weary. I am tired of acting like everything is all right when it’s the complete opposite. This wine provides a temporary respite and briefly numbs the pain. But when it wears off, I find myself back here.

I make my way into the bathroom to do some cleaning. But I’ve scrubbed this place from top to bottom. How much more cleaning can I do? It’s not working.

Why don’t you just do it, Nakita?

I reach for the .357 revolver that Candice had in her safe for her protection. I snuck into her place while she was having her sleepover with Alonzo and took the gun. She deserves to be happy. I will get in the way of their happiness, with all my issues. This is my problem, not hers. Candice deserves to be happy. I know she will make sure Adrianna is happy and will give her what I cannot deliver to her—love and protection.

Yeah, this is for the best. Everyone will be happy. I smile for the first time in months.

I feel so calm and excited right now. I won’t feel any more pain. It will be over.

After climbing into the bathtub, I pull the curtain closed and place the gun under my chin and pray. “God, please forgive me for what I am about to do. Please protect Candice, Adrianna, and everyone else.”

As tears storm my face, visions of Adrianna dance inside my mind, causing my hands to quiver violently. The motion forces the revolver out of my hand, and it falls onto the porcelain at my feet.

“I am such a failure. I cannot even bring peace and happiness to myself the right way,” I mumble. Then I drag my spineless existence from the bathroom.

You’re such a failure. You can’t do anything right, the voices mock.

“Leave me alone,” I shout as I throw myself across the bed, knocking my phone to the floor.

After retrieving it, I locate my last call and dial the number again. The call goes straight to voice mail. I leave a message and hang up.

Everyone is sick of you. No one wants you around. You’re a disappointment, the voices tell me.

“I’ll prove you all wrong.” I dart back into the bathroom, rip open the medicine cabinet, and search until I locate my original prescription.

I don’t know why I bothered calling again. It’s evident what needs to be done. I tried to seek help or a voice of reason, but I know I need no reasoning. God is calling me home. Yes, He is. It’s time for me to be reunited with my twin sister.

As a sense of peace swallows me whole, I enter my walk-in closet and pull out the dress I purchased for the grand opening.

“This is so pretty,” I say as I disrobe and change into the olive-green, formfitting dress. Giving myself a once-over, I notice my hair is in shambles. “Oh my. I need to do something with this head and maybe put on a little makeup. Yeah, that’ll bring it all together.”

Excitedly, I comb my hair into a tight bun ponytail and make my face up as I indulge in my wine and pills.

Turning to find my pumps, I am suddenly startled by the image standing before me. I immediately begin to weep. “Oh my God, Shakita, my deceased twin sister. When did you get here? How? I’m so sorry you went in the car without me, and I promise to make it up to you. I was in the process of getting myself together to come and get you.”

I love you so much, Nakita. It’s all right. I am here now. I just want to hold you and never let you go.

“Can you hold me until I fall asleep, Shakita? I am so tired. I just need to sleep.”

Yes, I promise to hold you tight, she assures as we nestle together on the bed.