Chapter
9
She could hear Brad outside the bedroom door asking her if she was okay but she couldn't even answer. Why did everything seem to be haunting her now, when she was about to get everything she felt she ever wished for. With a tissue in hand Brookann laid across her bed feeling empty, soulless, she almost felt as though the devil was coming to take her back to hell she tried so desperately to forget, she began to wonder why this many frightening things she had pushed back in her memories and forgotten about was taking on a new life in her mind and why now?
As the sob's slowed she set on the edge of the bed through burning eyes she looked around at the bedroom she had so proudly put together, with it's boarder of Indian horses that had feathers in their bridles, and the sun flowing down over the banks as if it were to disappear into the mountains. It had the effects of water color painting you couldn't take your eyes off of. Above that a soft gray over lay of paint, with cream colored sponging upon the walls it always seemed to help her start calming down and reminded her of where she was.
As she slowly started to get her bearings she realized she felt like a brick had been tied to her legs to hold her down in a clear pond water, she could see the top but couldn't get any she where close to it. "What was happening to her?" She spoke with weak conviction.
She began to reflect back upon the memories of what the notebook was saying in black and white. Her first fear was she had not yet told Austin any of this, but what was this? What had she forgotten so deep that it's just coming up for air now. As unwitting as it sounds, what would he think of her when he found out? That her actions of today or even the years they wrote many letters to one another would be a hidden lie upon their friendship, or that she was crazier then at this moment, he already thought she may be?
So many what ifs and yet so little with the past coming to haunt her did she realize she hadn't spoken to the one man she should feel she could tell anything too, her husband...... She was feeling furious, and dismantled, all over again, she wasn't even able to tell her own husband the last life she lived. Her heart sank as she went from setting up on the bed to laying back on it and thinking, nor did it bother her to even want to. He had secrets and still does. But she was more focused on the now. Getting up and unlocking the door she peeked out and noticed no Brad, thank goodness, so she started for the kitchen again retrieving a new glass not even thinking if the one the flew across the room had been taken care of. Brookann stood against the cabinet for support and poured her wine and drank deeply, as the sweet dry taste cooled the back of her throat she poured another, and another. As it began taking affect she started into the living room. Brad was setting in his usual spot, but with her journal in hand, she yanked it from him and gave him the worse look she could muster.
"What is wrong baby you need to tell me?" Brad says softly, not trying to throw her off by being ill toned with his voice. She could feel the alcohol starting to swarm inside her head and it felt good. Pretty soon she'd be able to do as she did as a child an block it out and pretend it never happened.
As her husband stood and retrieved the leather binder from her hand he asked her again in more of a stern voice. " Brookann what is this about?!" She looked him straight in the face and told him to go "Fuck off she wasn't ready to talk about it or she would have done it a long time ago!" He looked at his wife in disbelief. So when he spoke it was as clear cut as could be. With the same tone he uses on her when he's telling her "Oh here we go again your the victim!" .... He says. "So what you're telling me is that you...... throw wine glasses, run to the bedroom freaking out, lock the yourself in and write things off this mortality in this journal all the time?" She began to laugh. In a soft deliberate tone she said, "Brad let me tell ya a few things that maybe you need to know like first thing is, I wouldn't talk to you if you where to beat the shit out of me!" She felt the blood flowing now, she felt she was on a roll and just took that first little push, and now he pushed so she continued, "another thing, the only thing" her voice staying calm so he would know she meant business, "even if I did tell ya what this was all about would it matter Brad would it? I can answer that question for you NO!!!!!"
As Brad looked her into her eyes something had changed and he could tell right away that he was not going to get anywhere with her in this capacity, she kept flying out hurtful accusations, and the last one stung more then he even knew, as he heard the words come out of her mouth, he set back down in his chair in awe, she said slowly, "Or oooohhhh yes get this...... Maybe we should paint the house green so it will match your job!"
9
She could hear Brad outside the bedroom door asking her if she was okay but she couldn't even answer. Why did everything seem to be haunting her now, when she was about to get everything she felt she ever wished for. With a tissue in hand Brookann laid across her bed feeling empty, soulless, she almost felt as though the devil was coming to take her back to hell she tried so desperately to forget, she began to wonder why this many frightening things she had pushed back in her memories and forgotten about was taking on a new life in her mind and why now?
As the sob's slowed she set on the edge of the bed through burning eyes she looked around at the bedroom she had so proudly put together, with it's boarder of Indian horses that had feathers in their bridles, and the sun flowing down over the banks as if it were to disappear into the mountains. It had the effects of water color painting you couldn't take your eyes off of. Above that a soft gray over lay of paint, with cream colored sponging upon the walls it always seemed to help her start calming down and reminded her of where she was.
As she slowly started to get her bearings she realized she felt like a brick had been tied to her legs to hold her down in a clear pond water, she could see the top but couldn't get any she where close to it. "What was happening to her?" She spoke with weak conviction.
She began to reflect back upon the memories of what the notebook was saying in black and white. Her first fear was she had not yet told Austin any of this, but what was this? What had she forgotten so deep that it's just coming up for air now. As unwitting as it sounds, what would he think of her when he found out? That her actions of today or even the years they wrote many letters to one another would be a hidden lie upon their friendship, or that she was crazier then at this moment, he already thought she may be?
So many what ifs and yet so little with the past coming to haunt her did she realize she hadn't spoken to the one man she should feel she could tell anything too, her husband...... She was feeling furious, and dismantled, all over again, she wasn't even able to tell her own husband the last life she lived. Her heart sank as she went from setting up on the bed to laying back on it and thinking, nor did it bother her to even want to. He had secrets and still does. But she was more focused on the now. Getting up and unlocking the door she peeked out and noticed no Brad, thank goodness, so she started for the kitchen again retrieving a new glass not even thinking if the one the flew across the room had been taken care of. Brookann stood against the cabinet for support and poured her wine and drank deeply, as the sweet dry taste cooled the back of her throat she poured another, and another. As it began taking affect she started into the living room. Brad was setting in his usual spot, but with her journal in hand, she yanked it from him and gave him the worse look she could muster.
"What is wrong baby you need to tell me?" Brad says softly, not trying to throw her off by being ill toned with his voice. She could feel the alcohol starting to swarm inside her head and it felt good. Pretty soon she'd be able to do as she did as a child an block it out and pretend it never happened.
As her husband stood and retrieved the leather binder from her hand he asked her again in more of a stern voice. " Brookann what is this about?!" She looked him straight in the face and told him to go "Fuck off she wasn't ready to talk about it or she would have done it a long time ago!" He looked at his wife in disbelief. So when he spoke it was as clear cut as could be. With the same tone he uses on her when he's telling her "Oh here we go again your the victim!" .... He says. "So what you're telling me is that you...... throw wine glasses, run to the bedroom freaking out, lock the yourself in and write things off this mortality in this journal all the time?" She began to laugh. In a soft deliberate tone she said, "Brad let me tell ya a few things that maybe you need to know like first thing is, I wouldn't talk to you if you where to beat the shit out of me!" She felt the blood flowing now, she felt she was on a roll and just took that first little push, and now he pushed so she continued, "another thing, the only thing" her voice staying calm so he would know she meant business, "even if I did tell ya what this was all about would it matter Brad would it? I can answer that question for you NO!!!!!"
As Brad looked her into her eyes something had changed and he could tell right away that he was not going to get anywhere with her in this capacity, she kept flying out hurtful accusations, and the last one stung more then he even knew, as he heard the words come out of her mouth, he set back down in his chair in awe, she said slowly, "Or oooohhhh yes get this...... Maybe we should paint the house green so it will match your job!"
Support Christina Marshall 
