Mia
Ten Years Ago
The beeping of a machine rings in my ear, and the light is so bright I have to close my eyes again.
“Mia!” my grandmother shrieks.
“Shh, don’t scare her,” my grandfather reprimands her.
I slowly open my eyes and see them staring at me. “Where am I?”
My grandmother cups my face with both her hands, and she’s crying. “Mia, thank God you’re awake.”
She hugs me, and I look past her at my grandfather, who is brushing his cheek. “What happened?”
“You don’t remember anything?” my grandmother asks, releasing me.
I close my eyes.
The bonfire.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have lied to you about going to the party. Did I get drugged or something?”
Pain passes over my grandparents’ faces.
My grandfather puts his arm around my grandmother, and she puts her hand to her mouth.
Why is she crying so hard?
“I’m okay. You don’t have to worry anymore. Whatever happened, I’m fine,” I try to reassure her.
She sobs into my grandfather’s chest.
My grandfather rubs her back and hesitates but then says, “There was a shooting. Do you remember?”
“A shooting? No. Who got shot?”
He stares at me.
“I got shot?” I look down at my body, but the covers are over me, so I can’t see anything.
He carefully says, “Yes.”
“Where?”
“In your rib. They removed it because the bullet was lodged in it.”
“They took out my rib?” I cry in panic. “Don’t I need it?”
He puts his hand on my shin. “You’ll be okay without it.”
I release a breath.
He continues to stare at me, rubbing my grandmother’s back.
“Is there something else you aren’t telling me?”
My grandmother sobs harder.
Chills run through my body. “Did something happen to Gabriella?”
My grandfather shakes his head. “No, honey. She is fine. It’s...”
He looks away, closes his eyes then looks back at me. “Clay got shot and died.”
A pain shoots through my heart, and an uncontrollable wave of emotion hits me as my tears fall like never before. “No!”
My grandfather takes my hand, trying to console both my grandmother and me.
I cry for a long time and finally look up and manage to ask, “Who shot him?”
He blinks several times and gulps. “Beckett shot you both.”
“What? No, that’s impossible!” I exclaim, shaking my head.
Very softly, he says, “He hasn’t denied it. Not once.”
“I don’t understand.”
“None of us do.”
“That’s...”
Get down, Mia!
I jerk my head. “He yelled, ‘Get down, Mia!’”
My grandmother sits back in her chair. “Mia, do you remember something?”
I try to remember, but I can’t. “No. I know he yelled that to me though.”
“When? Where were you?”
“I don’t know. I can’t see it, but I hear him yelling.”
“Honey, that could have been during any part of your childhood.” My grandmother pats my hand.
“Beckett would never hurt Clay, much less shoot him or me.”
My grandfather grasps my hand. “I know this is confusing. It is for all of us, but we need to accept reality. Beckett Brooks is a murderer.”
Several days pass in the hospital. Waves of grief over losing Clay come and go. And I grieve for Beckett as well.
I don’t believe he could do it. And why would he do it?
I want to talk to Gabriella, but my grandparents won’t allow anyone to see me, and the phone has been removed from my room. I don’t understand why, but they said that it’s not safe for me.
When I’m getting released, I think I’m going home. It’s not till I get in the minivan, and I look out the window and see a sign that reads “I-75 North” that I question where we are going.
My grandfather veers over to a rest area, and my grandmother gets out of the van and opens my door. She jumps in next to me and squeezes my hand. “We need to talk, honey.”
Panic courses through me. Why is she looking at me like that?
“What?”
“The island isn’t safe for you.”
“What do you mean?”
“You can’t go back.”
My stomach flips. “I can’t go back? I don’t understand.”
“As hard as this is going to be for all of us, we’re doing the right thing for you.”
She takes a deep breath. “We are driving you to your new school.”
“I don’t want to go to a new school.”
She squeezes my hand. “Yes, I know, dear, but we need to keep you safe. The boarding school we are sending you to—”
“I don’t want to go to boarding school!”
She strokes my hair. “Once you get used to it you’ll love it.”
“No.”
“We love you, Mia. We don’t want anything else to happen to you,” my grandfather chimes in.
No. This cannot be happening.
“Where are you taking me?”
“There’s a lovely school in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan.”
My head jerks toward her. “Michigan? That’s across the country.”
“Yes. No one will find you there.”
“No one will find me? What does that mean?”
She purses her lips and looks away.
“Tell me,” I cry out.
She turns back to me. “This school will keep you safe. We love you, and this is why we are making this decision.”
“I’m sorry I lied about the party. I won’t ever do it again!”
“Oh, honey, this isn’t about that. This is about keeping bad people away from you.”
“Bad people? But you said Beckett murdered Clay. He’s going to jail. There isn’t anyone else to come after me.”
“We’re doing the best thing for you, Mia.” She returns to the passenger seat.
“You can’t just leave me in Michigan,” I plead, but the decision has been made.
Any joy, warmth, or friendships I had before the shooting are gone. Like the snow that covers the ground most of the year, my new reality is cold, harsh, and bleak.
Loneliness grips me like a sieve, suffocating me at times. It takes any shyness I had and makes me a bigger introvert. I become antisocial and full of anxiety around people.
I hide my past from those around me. It’s so sad, I can’t even imagine having to explain it to anyone. So I suffer in silence as grief over Clay and Beckett, my friendship with Gabriella, and my previous life never goes away.
When I turn twenty, I try to date. I can never get past three dates, and two different times I’m kissed and want to die from the embarrassment of not knowing what to do.
They say Beckett Brooks killed my brother. I wish he had killed me, too.