Hey readers! I'm back with another chapter to this story. This took a lot of energy to write. It was emotionally draining and at times I wanted to discontinue to the story as a whole. Yet, I didn't want to disappoint you guys, so I continued. I would like ask for your forgiveness now because the subject matter does get extreme. I want you guys to understand that Kendall is a sociopath and you can find the definition on Google if you'd like. I promise that there is a light at the end of the tunnel. The ending is already planned out and there is about four chapters left, give or take. So, let me present to you Chapter IX of Innocence Lost. As always, reviews, favorites, and follows are welcomed and appreciated.
Chapter IX
"You save yourself or you remain unsaved."― Alice Sebold
"This can't possibly be true Ms. Knight," the detective said with an incredulous frown.
"My brother is a sociopath," was my simple answer. I looked at him and asked with impatience, "Can I just finish?"
With his hands, he motioned for me to continue with my story.
Kendall found a new love and that was cocaine. The first time I found out was when I made my daily trip to have yet another incestuous rendezvous with my own blood. The door to his apartment was ajar and there was no light coming from inside. I nervously stepped closer and walked into the apartment. The TV wasn't blaring like it usually did. I called his name and got no answer. I flicked on the light and froze with complete shock at the sight before me. There was blood everywhere. It stained the cushions of his suede coach, the carpet under the coffee table, and the walls that led to his room. There was trail of crimson blood coming from his room. It was scene straight from a gory horror movie. I dropped my bag and dashed towards his room. As weird as it sounds, although the I despised his very presence, I never even thought of him dying. There was tears forming in my eyes at the thought of losing my brother. One may call this Stockholm Syndrome and that may be true. I wasn't ready for him to die.
Kendall was lying face first on the floor with a bloody knife clasped in his limp hand. He was clad in nothing but his underwear and there was white residue caked on his nose. I backed against the wall with terror at the sight of a decapitated cat strewn on his bed. It's brown mane was soaked in its own blood and its piercing green eyes were frozen with the look of shock. It was the stray cat that lived in the bushes surrounding the complex.
"Kendall!" I cried. My head was spinning and the sight of blood was nauseating. My stomach lurched and I felt the intense need to vomit. Yet, I suppressed the feeling by swallowing hard.
He immediately and erratically jerked and raised his head as if he had gotten water poured onto him. He was panting heavily and stared at me with large, dilated eyes. His hair was disheveled and his jaw was peppered with golden stubble. He was gaunt and his skin was an ashen gray. He took in his surroundings as if he didn't know where he was.
"It tried to fucking kill me!" he yelled like a maniac. He was waving the knife and I winced, praying that he wouldn't throw it. It was apparent that he was on drugs. The cat's death was most likely from a drug fueled rampage.
"What are you on?" I asked.
He didn't answer and just stared at me with widened eyes. I apprehensively bent down so that our eyes met and reached for the knife. To my amazement, he handed it over without a fight.
"What are you on?" I repeated firmly. I slapped his cheeks gently and his head swayed from side to side. I wiped the residue from his nose and felt the crystal like texture in my fingers. He was on cocaine.
"I swear it tried to kill me," he wailed, shaking his head fervently. I had never seen him so vulnerable. It was quite scary due to its unfamiliarity. I felt a pang of sympathy towards him. He was lost and was now jumping head first into harder drugs. He reeked of booze and smelt as if he didn't shower for days. He needed a shower.
I helped him to his feet and we slowly teetered towards the bathroom. I turned the handle of the shower two turns to the left as he dropped his boxers. He stumbled into the shower and stiffened as the water ran down his body. He was shivering and his teeth chattered.
"Sit," I instructed. He wordlessly did what he was told and sat cross legged. I shampooed his hair and scrubbed everything from his waist up. He kept staring at me with sad eyes and a frown.
"I'm broke," he moaned. He dropped his head into his hands. "I want more." He pounded his fists to the shower base.
I didn't know what to say. He was drowning and I didn't know whether or not I wanted to save him. After all, he had done me so much harm. He stood up and washed the soap from his body. I threw him a towel and walked out of the room so that he could dress.
"Bury the cat," I whispered. He lazily put on his clothes and, with a large spoon, scraped the cat's remains into an old shoebox. He went downstairs and I could hear him tossing the box into the dumpster. It was sad way for any being to die.
We sat on the couch in silence. We were both staring at the blank television with sad expressions on our faces. This wasn't the way our lives were supposed to turn out. Kendall wasn't supposed to be this way. He was supposed to play hockey in college and one day go on to play for the Minnesota Wild. It was his boyhood dream and, at one point, it was all he talked about. I was supposed to be his sassy, smart alec baby sister, who played childish pranks on him. We were supposed to be the perfect set of children, living happy ever after lives.
Yet, we turned out to be psychotic and unhappy.
He lit a cigarette and took a long, nervous drag. He offered me a puff and I gladly accepted. I was starting to have a liking towards cigarettes. As cliche as it sounded, it made me feel better about life. I even stole a few when Kendall wasn't paying attention or was too drunk to care.
"I need money," he said, breaking the long silence.
Kendall had had an unsuccessful tryst as drug dealer. He would buy pot from another dealer and try to sell it for double, sometimes triple, the amount. Yet, the marijuana that he sold was of cheap quality. It didn't pack the same punch as the stuff other people sold. No one bought it from him unless they really needed a quick high, which was rarely. He ended up with less money than before.
"Why can't you get a job?" I blurted.
He glared at me with a sneer. "I'm too fucking good for a job," was his apathetic answer.
He looked at me with a pondering expression on his face. He stared at me as if he had never seen me before. After what seemed like forever, this small, devious smirk enveloped his lips.
"Go home," he ordered. "Come back tomorrow right after school. Wear something nice."
I gave him a puzzled look and hesitantly got up. I knew where this was going on. We were going to have sex again since we didn't today. I grabbed my bag and looked over my shoulder once more. He was daydreaming with that same smirk on his face.
"Why not go to the police?" the detective said with a questioning look. He put down his pen and rubbed his temples with an exasperated sigh.
"You don't understand," I snapped. I placed my hands on my lap and discreetly ran a thumb over my stomach.
He gave me an eye roll. He had probably heard that before. "Continue," he said grudgingly, picking up his pen.
As per Kendall's wishes, I arrived at his apartment after school. I was dressed in black, leather pants and a white tank top. To my dismay, Kendall had finally settled for an older me. There were no more nicks from razors when he shaved me from head to toe. And there were no more pigtails and frilly white nightgowns.
The door was open and I was greeted the sight of Kendall and an unfamiliar boy sitting on the couch. The boy was tall with black hair and movie star good looks.
Why he had Kendall as a friend?
I don't know.
Kendall was sipping a beer and the boy was smoking a cigarette. There was a nervous, giddy expression etched on the boy's perfectly tanned face.
When the door clicked behind me, they both looked up and Kendall catapulted from his seat, spilling some of his beer on his jeans.
"There she is!" he cried with a grin. He looked intently at the boy as the boy stared intently at me. He examined me from head to toe, his dark, mysterious eyes taking in every inch of my body. I felt self conscious and cast my eyes to ground. The boy motioned for me to turn around and I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion.
"Turn around," Kendall demanded hurriedly. The fury that had always been in his eyes was back. I slowly and nervously spun around.
"Take your jacket off."
I obediently slipped my arms through the sleeves and carelessly threw it to the floor. I was freezing. Kendall hadn't had heat because he couldn't afford it.
The boy looked back at Kendall, wiggling his eyebrows. "a hundred."
Kendall scoffed and rolled his eyes. He ran his fingers through his hair. "C'mon she's practically a virgin!"
The boy glanced at me once more, pursed his lips, and nodded his head. "Two hundred."
My brother shook his hand, with this large, goofy grin. "That's more like it!"
"What's going on?" I asked in a panicked tone. I searched their faces for an answer but found none.
"She doesn't know?" the boy asked. He looked at Kendall questioningly and Kendall threw a glare my way.
Kendall motioned for me to follow him into the room. I walked past the boy, who was still staring intently at me with a mysterious smirk on his face.
The room was dark and Kendall backed me against the wall. "Your gonna suck his dick for money," he announced.
My jaw dropped at his announcement. I was speechless. He wanted to pimp me out for drug money. There was nauseating feeling churning in my stomach. I felt dirty and disgusting, like every time me and Kendall had sex. He wanted me to be a prostitute. My brother wanted me to fuck guys for his own personal gain.
How fucking sick is that?
"I don't want..."
He interrupted me by grabbing my arm and twisting it. My arm made a displeasing cracking sound and I began to yelp in pain, but he only gripped harder. His nails were digging into my skin and I tried to break free.
"You're gonna fucking do it," he barked. He let go and my arm was pink and pulsating with pain.
As he sauntered out the room, he gave me an arrogant wink. He had gotten me to do what he wanted and that made him feel good. It was always thrilling for him. He liked inflicting pain and couldn't care less of what the other person was feeling. He liked to get his way and he was deadly when he didn't.
"She's ready!" he called.
A few seconds later, the boy walked in and closed the door behind him. His eyes glimmered and he smirked as he undid his belt. He sat down on the bed and motioned for me to come over. Still clutching my arm, I crept over with my head cast to floor.
I wordlessly knelt down like I had always done with Kendall. The boy ran his fingers through my hair and cupped his hand under my chin. He raised my head so that I was looking at him. He was smiling and winked at me.
"My name's Jett," he said huskily.
He leaned in and planted a sultry kiss on my lips. I didn't kiss back as my lips were closed.
"Katie," I said. I jerked my head sideways to break the kiss.
"Your pretty."
"Thanks. I guess."
Jett dramatically dropped his pants and ran his hand down his private. He watched for an excited expression, but got none. I stared at it and grimaced. It was obnoxiously large and pale pink. The smile on his face was gone. He grabbed the back of my head and I closed my eyes as he pulled me down.
It felt like forever. It lasted a whole five minutes.
When I was done, I wiped his stuff off of my lips with the back of my hand. He buckled his pants and smoothened the creases. He was satisfied with my service and it showed. He was beaming and almost glowing in a way.
He walked out of the room and patted Kendall on the back.
"She's fucking amazing!" he said. He fished his pockets and placed two hundred dollar bills in Kendall's hands. Kendall looked at the money as if it were the holy grail.
"I gotta go."
He grabbed his jacket and exchanged a bro hung with Kendall.
"Tell your friends!" he called as Jett left the apartment.
That night, I cried the whole entire walk home. I had never cried so hard. I had this huge throbbing headache and I felt dizzy. I wanted to pass out and probably never wake up.
Mom wasn't home like usual. She didn't leave any food, which was becoming a common occurrence. Her life revolved around work and she had no time for me anymore. She didn't care that I spent time with the person who viciously attacked her. She was too busy working to care.
I stumbled into the bathroom and threw myself in front of the toilet. My stomach grumbled furiously. I coughed and piles of vomit crashed against the porcelain. I was crying and slammed my hands against the sides of the toilet.
I could still taste him. He was the first boy, besides Kendall, I had ever done that to. It was disgusting and degrading. I had imagined my first time to be romantic, to be everything Kendall couldn't offer.
I searched the cabinet for Advil and found an unfamiliar medicine bottle. I grabbed it and ran a finger over the label.
It was Xanax and it was prescribed to my mother.
I had heard good things from kids at school about it. It was supposed to make all your troubles and stresses about life go away. You would feel like you were flying and invincible. You would feel calm and like you were in someone else's body. I needed that. I needed to get away. I wanted to be a bird and fly.
Without a second thought, I popped two pills and swallowed. This wave of calmness overtook my body. I was in nirvana and the euphoric feeling ravaged me. I sleepily and gracefully walked into my room, undressed, and fell in slow motion onto my bed. I had never slept so beautifully in my life and from then on, I was hooked.
I took a Xanax before school, another one during lunch, and two before going over the Kendall's.
Within a week, the bottle of Xanax was gone. My mom didn't even ask me about the empty bottle. She was probably so tired that she couldn't keep track. She simply ordered a new bottle.
"So you're saying you're a drug addict?" the detective questioned, interrupting me.
I rolled my eyes. "That's beyond the point!"
He gave me an apathetic frown. "Actually. It is..."
Jett spread the news about my services to his group of friends. He probably had such a good time because I was now the hottest piece of meat in town. There were two or three guys a day that would knock on Kendall's door dying to take me for a ride.
None of them knew that I was Kendall's sister. Kendall had told his friends that I was just some whore he met at a party.
My brother was making really good money at my expense. He could easily pocket eight hundred dollars a night. The minute he got money, he would spend it on drugs. I never saw a cent.
He was happy that he had finally made a living as a pimp, but soon that happiness dissolved and jealousy took its place. He was jealous because I belonged to him. He would angrily usher a satisfied customer out of the apartment and refuse to let anyone else touch me for the night.
The last straw was when this guy, named Dak, let out a yowl of ecstasy as I performed for him. Kendall, still high from cocaine and full of envy, stormed into the room. He threw me off of Dak and pulled him by the collar. He dragged him, his pants still at his ankles, to the living room and began to pummel him, his fists crashing onto Dak's face. He was kicking him so hard that the poor boy cried in agony.
"Shut the fuck up!"
He pulled out a small knife from his pocket. "Tell anyone and I'll fucking kill you!" Kendall warned. His pocket knife was at Dak's neck, which meant he meant business. Dak swore he would never tell and ran out of the apartment with a black eye and a broken nose.
He had closed the shop for good and his days as a pimp were over. His money lasted only a few days and he was stuck being penniless again.
"I'm expecting someone," Kendall squeaked. It was a week after he beat up Dak and his cocaine supply was gone. He had these ugly bags under his once gleaming green eyes. He was green from nausea and had dropped a lot of weight since he started cocaine. He was going to take a shower and wanted me to keep an eye out. He was beyond exhausted. He went through cold sweats all night from withdrawal.
As he closed his bedroom door, I grabbed a cigarette from the coffee table and lit it. I took short, careful drags as I stared at the wall. I could hear Kendall vomiting in the bathroom.
My life was a wreck from the beginning. At seven, I had my first sexual experience. By nine, I was a pro at blow jobs. By eleven, I was malnourished. By sixteen, I was abusing pills and had a brief stint as a prostitute. The only thing I had left was school and I was straight A student. I wanted to go to NYU in New York City and get as far away from Minnesota as I could. I was going places or at least I thought I was.
I nearly jumped at the sound of knocking at the door. I snubbed the cigarette in the ashtray and trotted towards the door. I didn't bother looking through the peephole and opened the door. It was James Diamond. He was shivering from the cold and his hands were stuffed in his parka. His eyes seemed to light up at the sight of me.
"Katie! I wasn't expecting you!" he greeted with enthusiasm.
"I'm here," I replied in a tired, monotone voice.
He pointed to the door. "Can I come in?"
I stepped out of his way and he shuffled through.
"How's life?" he asked, trying to make conversation. He took off his gloves and shook the snow off his hair. I spotted a sliver of purple on his neck and assumed it was a hickey.
I shrugged my shoulders. "Good. You?"
"Same here. Good." he paused and smiled politely. "Where's Kendall?" he asked.
"In the shower."
I reclaimed my spot on the couch and there was an awkward silence.
"Does your brother have anything to drink?" James asked hurriedly. He was trying his best to keep our conversation going. He just wanted to get into my pants because of the way I now looked. I knew it. I was far from gullible and naive.
"Beer."
He grimaced and shook his head. "Nah."
I grabbed my unfinished cigarette and relit it. I shook Kendall's pack of Marlboro so that it looked attractive. "He has cigarettes."
James widened his eyes with shock. He clamped his jaw and shook his head. "No thanks."
I raised an eyebrow at his answer. He was supposedly Kendall's friend and he didn't want a smoke or a drink. All of my brother's friends were losers, drug addicts, and hard partiers. What made James Diamond the exception?
James opened his mouth to say something, when the bedroom door swung open. Kendall emerged in an old Hollister hoodie and faded jeans. He had his arms huddled to his chest and it looked as if he couldn't hold his head up. He was still pale and green and he squinted his eyes in pain. He perked up at the sight of James.
I watched as James tensed up and looked down nervously. Then, I watched as Kendall's eyebrows knitted together. It was his look of anger. There was something going on and I didn't know what.
"Got my stuff?" Kendall demanded.
James fished his pocket and handed Kendall a paper bag. He examined the contents inside and smirked. It was the smirk of satisfaction. He had just gotten drugs and James gave it to him.
"Get the fuck out," was his next response. "Take her with you."
James and I exchanged uneasy looks. But, ultimately we did as we were told. James ushered me out of the door. We walked down the steps in silence and when we got to the bottom, I started for the bus stop like I had always done. It was freezing and my small frame was shivering. The snow was accumulating and I was only wearing ballet flats and ripped jeans.
"Let me take you home!"
I looked back and saw James standing there. He wiggled his keys and gave me a confident smile. It was weird how his whole persona changed around Kendall in an instant. Standing before me was the James Diamond I knew.
"No thanks."
"Are you sure? It's freezing!" James trotted through the snow to catch up with me.
"I'm taking the bus," I protested. I nodded towards the bus stop. The bench where I usually sat to wait was covered in snow.
"It's not gonna be here for about another hour," he retorted.
I looked at him and then glanced at the bus stop. He was right. I would be waiting in sub-zero weather for a long time.
I let out a sigh and thought it over. I didn't trust him. He had a reputation of being a little too smooth around the ladies.
I shook my head with resignation. I was way too cold to not take the ride.
He grinned and we walked to his car. I gawked at the black Mercedes parked on the curb. James was wealthy, mostly because his mom owned a cosmetics company. She was nicknamed the Estee Lauder of the Midwest. For James's fifthteenth birthday, Mrs. Diamond bought him box seats to a Minnesota Wild game. Kendall, of course, was invited and he had a blast. They even got to meet the team after the game.
His seats were real leather and the inside smelled like expensive cologne. We rode in silence all the way home. I noticed that he kept stealing glances at me. I shifted my body towards the door. When we finally got to my home, he pulled onto the curb.
"What're you doing this Saturday?" he asked, breaking the silence.
"Nothing important."
"Come out with me."
My heart stopped at this. He was the first boy to ever ask me out. I was shaking and I nervously tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. I blushed furiously and cast my eyes to the floor.
"Aren't you too old for me?"
"Who said it was a date?"
I finally looked him in the eyes. His smile could light up a whole city.
Then, I thought of Kendall. He was all I ever knew. I was uneasy about going out with another boy. I couldn't help but think about what he'd do if he found out. Yet, then I thought of how unhappy I was. No guy had ever given me the time of day and here was James wanting to go out with me.
My urge to find happiness overtook my fear, so I said yes.
Maybe James only wanted sex. But, if it was someone other than Kendall, other than those boys I had provided services too, then I didn't care. I needed to find happiness.
I was going out with James Diamond.