I stand on the sidewalk with my arms crossed over my chest. The wind blows, whipping my hair into my face, but it has nothing to do with the goosebumps that have made themselves at home on my arms or the chill down my spine. I stare at the structure in front of me, the house that was never really my home. It was empty now, the only thing roaming the halls were my haunted memories. The police tape still outlined the porch; the “active crime scene” tape still stuck to the front door. Once the investigation was over, this house was mine and I couldn’t wait to watch it burn to the ground.

I didn’t want to come back to this place, but once I heard the news, I knew I had to. I had to make sure it was true. I had to know that without a doubt, Eli was dead.

I wasn’t on Myspace, I haven’t made a Facebook. I got my news from television and that’s where I saw it. The headline was enough to knock the breath out of me. “Grisly Murder: Ex-Cop Eli Davis Found Dead Two Days After Prison Release.” The headline took my breath away for two obvious reasons. The first, because my rapist was released from prison after only one year. The second, because somebody else saw the injustice and killed him.

I kept up with Eli as much as I possibly could ever since that dreadful day in Huntington Beach when I left everything I had and wanted behind. I went to the library every day, google searched his name and mine, too. I googled him to keep up with what he was doing, I googled myself to make sure he was nowhere near finding me. It was in late 2004 when a blog popped up. Eli’s name was never mentioned in the blog and still to this day, I still don’t understand how I found it. Fate, I suppose. The author of the blog stayed anonymous, something that was easier to do in the cyberworld than it was in real life. I still remember the first line of the blog, like I had just read it. Tonight, my innocence was taken by someone I trusted.

The author of the blog had been raped. Before she told me the name of her attacker she described him as a strong, authority figure with a badge and sandy blond hair. It could have been anyone in the world, but the description set a little too close to home for me. I messaged her and urged her to go to the police. She replied, stressing how difficult it was to go to the police about the police. I asked her where she was from. She told me she just moved to Huntington Beach, California.

Out of all the places in the world, out of all the police officers…I knew, I just knew this girl had been raped by my brother. I got physically ill that day. I hated myself for letting him get away, for allowing him to hurt another human being. If there was once, there were more, and it was all my fault.

I didn’t get out of bed for a week. When I finally did, I went back to the library. The anonymous blogger, who still hadn’t told me her name, nor had I told her mine, had sent me a message a few hours earlier. She told me it happened again. She told me this time she went to the hospital and had a rape kit done. She told me this time she reported the bastard.
I didn’t bother asking her how she put herself in the position for it to happen again. It didn’t matter, and I knew Eli. I knew if he wanted it to happen, he would make it happen. I watched the news continuously. I messaged her numerous times, asking if there was any news. There never was. Until nearly six weeks later.

Eli had been arrested. The rape kit captured some of his DNA and there was no way he could get out of this. Once the news story broke, another girl stepped forward and then another and another until there were six girls total. I wanted to tell someone about all the times he raped me, but I always found myself, standing outside the police station like I did all those years ago. Except this time, I never made it inside.

When I google searched my name, it was always the same thing, missing posters, and descriptions with my high school senior photo. I shaved my head as soon as I ran away. As soon as I got on that bus I realized I wasn’t just running from Eli, I was also running from the Amber Alerts and news stations putting out my description. I knew I couldn’t look like me and my most recognizable trait was my long, waist length hair. The police wouldn’t be looking for a chick with a buzzcut. I had been running for four years, never staying in the same place for too long. I knew I was 18. I knew the system couldn’t make me do anything I didn’t want to do; stay anywhere I didn’t want to stay. Once you start running, it was hard to stop. So, I never went to the police. I never let them know who I was or what Eli used to do. I was a coward.

Eli was convicted and sent to prison for six years. One year for every girl that stepped forward. It was nowhere near enough time. Eli deserved more than six years; he deserved more than just prison. I always wondered if him being a police officer had anything to do with his short sentence. I always hoped someone would kill him in prison.

Although the sentence wasn’t anywhere long enough, I felt safer knowing he was behind bars. I felt like I could finally stop running. Eli couldn’t find me if he was in jail. I had moved around the country a lot since leaving Huntington Beach. I was always hitching rides from strangers to get around. I could always go where ever I wanted…but now I didn’t know where that was.

My first thought was back to Huntington Beach, back to Zack. It was six months into 2005 at this point and Avenged Sevenfold had just released their third album, City of Evil. I wanted to see him, Michelle, and the rest of the gang so bad but…it wasn’t an option. I owed Zack so many explanations. I owed him so much, but everything I had to give wasn’t enough. I couldn’t see him until I had something to give him. A part of me knew that day would never come.

I moved to Los Angeles. I was able to get a job as a bartender and I found an ad on craigslist for a woman seeking another woman for a roommate. Rachel and I hit it off immediately and things were as good as they were ever going to get. Until I got the news that Eli was being released four and a half years early due to some technicality. I work in a bar. I see ridiculous amounts of puke a night by people that can’t hold their booze. I had never seen so much vomit from one person than I had from myself that night.

I could not believe my ears as I heard the story. I couldn’t believe my eyes as I watched it. He was out of prison and he was forty-five minutes away from me. I went straight home and packed my bags. Halloween was in less than a week and it always brought it vast amounts of money for the bartenders. I would stay until then to make enough cash to get me away from here and then I would be gone. Three nights later, I saw the headline announcing Eli’s death.

The more searching I did online, the more I found out about the murder. He was killed in the house we once shared by someone who had a grudge against him. The murder was grisly. Whoever the murderer was, they wanted him to suffer. Eli was found on the bed with cloth stuffed into his mouth. His clothes were cut off with a pair of scissors. Handcuffs were cuffed to his bedframe, and his wrists were still in them, but his arms lay on the bed. They cut off his hands. They cut off his penis. They carved “RAPIST” into his chest. They let him bleed to death while he screamed into the cloth. There were no suspects. No weapons were left at the scene, no suspicious fingerprints were found. There was no DNA, no sign of anyone else in that house. It was like a ghost came in and killed him in the middle of the night. It was like fate swept in and finally gave Eli what he deserved.

It was my first night in a Huntington Beach hotel, I hadn’t logged into that website with the blog in almost a year. I logged in, unsure of what I was looking for and clicked on my messages. The anonymous blogger had sent me a message hours before. It only had three words.

It was me.

I replied with only two words. Thank you.

“Sutton!”

I nearly jump out of my skin. Rachel is beside me, trying to get my attention. She’s smiling, and I don’t know how long I’ve been in my daze. “Hey,” I say. I don’t know why, it’s just the first thing that came to mind.

“I went down to that café down the street and got us some coffees and Danishes,” she tells me lifting up a drink carrier and a small white bag. The café down the street; the café I used to work at.

“Okay, cool,” I try to smile.

I didn’t want Rachel to come with me to Huntington Beach, but she insisted. She didn’t know anything about my past, she just thought we were making a trip down here for the heck of it.

“What are you doing?” She asks as I take the coffee from her.

I shrug. “I uh…used to live here.”

Rachel looks at the house and I watch as her eyes widen. “What? Do you know what happened here?”

I shake my head. “No, no idea.”


Rachel stares at the house for a moment longer and then shudders. “Place is giving me the creeps. Let’s go to the beach before the Halloween party tonight!”

There were 191,328 people living in this city, but I still looked for Zack on the way to the beach. I looked for him at the beach and everywhere else we went that day. In the last few months, Avenged Sevenfold has gotten much popular. I saw them on TRL a while back and I was always reading about them online, or reading comments fans left on things. I tried not to let my jealousy show when I read things about girls bragging about sleeping with Zack, knowing it probably wasn’t true. I knew Zack was dating Gena, or at least he was a few months ago when I saw her in their video for Seize the Day. Deep down, I knew it was best if I didn’t see him. It would bring back feelings that have never really gone in the first place.

I was ready to get this Halloween party over with. I would much rather be at the bar I worked at making money than at Johnny’s Bar. It’s packed full of people who decided to spend the holiday at some bar instead of at a party. I ordered a top shelf long island ice tea and Rachel ordered us some shots. I was feeling pretty good by time Rachels phone rang and she went outside. My rapist was dead. I went from being free for six years to being free for life. This was a celebration, no matter how wrong it felt.

Rachel walked back in and stopped by the table. “Hey, Rachel do you think…” I looked up into a pair of eyes that my soul recognized. His hair was black with purple on the sides, he had snakebites and his septum pierced, but it was him. 191,328 people and he found me. I looked for him, I thought about how I would feel hours and days after seeing him again, but I never thought about how I would feel the moment I saw him again. Even if I did, I would have never imagined it feeling like this. The breath was pushed from my lungs, I lost the feeling in my face and my hands went numb. My heart pounded against its cage so hard I thought I felt bones break.

He’s smiling which is another thing I would have never imagined seeing again. Especially a smiled directed towards me. “Hi, I’m Zacky.”

This has got to be some sort of joke. He’s playing, acting like he doesn’t know who I am. I stare at him, allow my eyes to take in his face completely before replying. “Sutton,” I introduce. I don’t know why I don’t say Sheridan, maybe it’s because I haven’t used that name in years. Maybe it’s because I was scared to.

I tell myself that he doesn’t recognize me because he’s drunk and I’m wearing a wig. He asks where I’m from and I tell him where I’m staying, adjusting my witches hat uncomfortably. The bartender brings us more drinks and shots and even though I know I shouldn’t, I take it. He cheers to “new friends” and I’m more confused than ever but the whiskey helps.

My face feels fuzzy the more I drink. Zack orders another shot, and I do too. I didn’t know if I was drinking to drink or if I was drinking to forget that the love of my life didn’t recognize me. Well, at least he was flirting with me.

Zack touches my hand at some point and I feel a fire I haven’t felt since high school. He’s sitting beside me at the table now. I haven’t seen Rachel since she left on her phone and I’m too drunk to focus long enough to look for her.

Zack kisses me out of the blue. It takes me off guard and I'm tempted to pull away and ask about Gena but…for the first time in a long, long time I felt at home. Zack's hand finds my knee and slowly makes its way up my leg, under my dress and to my thigh. My body craved his and I pulled him closer to me.

“Let’s get out of here,” he mumbled against my lips.

I nod, and we make our way out of the bar and down the street, kissing and groping each other along the way. We finally make it back to my hotel room. I attempt several times to unlock the door, but Zack keeps kissing me and his hands keep touching me and it makes sliding a card through slot very difficult. Finally, I get it and we push through the door. I pull off my hat and the wig comes with it, I drop it to the ground and then pull off Zack’s shirt. He has a lot more tattoos than he did six years ago, and I remind myself to get a better look at them later.

I fall back on the bed and Zack falls on top of me. I know I need to tell him the truth, whether he knows or not, I need to tell him who I really am. I need to tell him before this goes on any further.

I open my mouth to tell him, but he’s already started stripping me from my dress and the warmth of his mouth on my breast causes me to moan instead. I feel my dress being pulled down even further and then it stops.

I watch the realization physically hit him. The blood from his face drains completely. His eyes grow wide and for a moment, he stops breathing. He’s already off me and the crash of the lamp hitting the floor tells me it’s broken. “Sheridan.”

“Zack,” I start, pulling the sheet from the bed over me. I quickly try to think of the next thing to say, a reason or excuse or anything to get him to hear me out but he’s out the door before I can even utter the words I’m sorry.

Notes

Well, there's an answer or two answered in the chapter, but really it just raises more questions! Answers and explanations coming soon, I promise! Thank you for reading and taking the time to comment, vote and subscribe!

Special thanks to countzackula6661, MiA7X, Kimmie and Tina7x for commenting on the last chapter!

Title Credit: She Wants Revenge “Written in Blood”