Overboard (6 page)

Surprised and confused, Brenna asked, “Why would you
want to hurt me?”

Dylan gawked at her. “Morgan told me how you felt.
That is why I started seeing her secretly last spring.”

“What are you talking about, Dylan?”

“She told me how you would say you didn’t feel
anything for me anymore. She said you were ready to move on. You
told her it was practically over.”

Brenna shook her head. “I never told Morgan anything
like that.”

“So, you didn’t say those things?”

“No. Morgan knew how in love I was... I wasn’t going
to break up with you last year,” she said, frustrated. “She just
told you that...”

Dylan’s face dropped. “Why would she do―”

“Because she wasn’t the friend I thought she was,”
Brenna concluded, feeling drained by the conversation. Marissa
threatening Dylan over a short-lived romance with Morgan seemed
like too much to believe. Brenna couldn’t wrap her head around the
fact that everyone she knew had lied or kept things from her. “None
of you were.”

* * * * *

Brenna awoke with a start. She had the same dream...
The dream of Morgan hitting her in the head with a paddle... It
seemed more vivid this time. She could feel the pounding pain of
being hit. She felt her body sink under the waves, feeling halfway
conscious. Her world went still momentarily.

But then she woke up.

Why was Brenna having these dreams? Did she feel
guilty about something? Did she do something wrong?

Confused, Brenna got up from bed and went to find
Orman. He said he would give her all of the answers, but he never
showed up at her suite. Orman was pretty predictable, and she knew
exactly where she could find him. He didn’t wander too faraway from
the bar at night.

Brenna went to the dance club and found Orman passed
out on the bar. Shaking him until he almost fell over, he began to
stir from his sleep. His unfocused eyes stared at Brenna, and he
smiled.

“Hey, Bren,” he said, smelling of liquor. “Do you
want a drink?”

“No,” she told him. “Get up. I need to ask you a few
questions.”

“Not now, Bren. Let me sleep...”

“Did you push her over?” Brenna asked him, point
blank. “You weren’t in the room last night...”

Orman’s mood immediately changed. “Are you crazy?
Now, you are blaming me?”

Brenna looked up at him. “I know what I heard last
night. It sounded like a body being dragged and thrown over the
railing.”

“What makes you think I would hurt Marissa?”

Brenna shook her head. “Dylan mentioned she did
horrible things
to you... I feel like I didn’t know her at
all. Like I don’t know any of you.”

“I didn’t hurt her,” Orman said somberly, his blue
eyes afire. “But I know who did and you do, too.”

“Who?”

“Don’t you remember?” he asked, confused. “Don’t you
remember how she asked to speak to you privately?”

Brenna gawked at him, dumbfounded. Her mind raced as
quickly as her pulse. “Tha―that nev―never happened, Orman,” she
stumbled over her words, feeling as if she couldn’t put a cohesive
thought together.

“Yes, it did,” he said bitterly, inching toward her
until his breath caressed her face. “You went with her to her
cabin. She said things you didn’t want to hear.”

Brenna began to hyperventilate. Her heart was
pounding hard in her chest. Her eyes fluttered uncontrollably,
feeling as if she was about to black out. “No,” she said weakly,
trying to block out Orman’s words. “I was asleep... I heard a
hor―horrible sound...”

“Everything I did was for you, Bren. I have always
loved you. If Dylan wasn’t in the picture, we would have been
together,” he said, taking hold of her shoulders. “But he doesn’t
have to be in the picture...”

“Let go of me,” Brenna shouted, breaking free of his
grasp and running as fast as she could. But she couldn’t run fast
enough away from his words. Something resonated within her.
Something clicked in her head, and her mind became inundated with
images. The dark cloud that separated her from her memories had
lifted slightly, and she saw beyond the veil.

Reaching the upper deck, Brenna bent over the railing
and began to vomit. Her mind was moving at a dizzying pace, and she
felt sick as a vision appeared before her eyes.

Marissa ushered her into her suite and lead her into
the sitting area. “So, I wanted to talk to you, because I’ve been
holding back something, and I can’t hold it in anymore. I just have
to get this off my chest.”

“I’m tired, Marissa. I want to go to bed so go ahead
and spill it,” Brenna told her, yawning.

“Brenna, I need to hear the truth from your lips,”
Marissa told her, appearing concerned. “No more lies.”

“What are you talking about?” she asked, bewildered
by her friend’s words.

“Did you kill her?” Marissa asked bluntly, tears
rimming her eyes.

Brenna stood up abruptly. “What are you accusing me
of?”

“I know the truth... It wasn’t hard to put things
together,” Marissa said, standing and crossing her arms. “How could
you do it? She was our best friend...”

“I didn’t do anything!” Brenna shouted at her,
feeling her insides turning.

“What was Morgan doing on that rowboat? Was she
meeting you? Did you find out about her and Dylan?”

Brenna covered her ears in an attempt to block out
Marissa’s questions. “Stop!”

Marissa angrily grasped her arms and shook her. “Tell
me! I need to hear it!”

“Stop!”

“How did you do it?”

Trying to quiet her, Brenna pushed her away with all
of her force.

Marissa fell over, hitting her head on the corner of
the coffee table. Marissa screamed. When she hit the ground, the
air was pushed out of her lungs and she was silent. Within seconds,
she sat up, wiping her head and exposing the inch-long gash on her
forehead. She showed Brenna the blood on her hands. “I’m bleeding!”
she screamed, glaring at her. “You did that on purpose!”

“No,” Brenna said, shaking her head. “No, it was an
accident!”

“Is that how you killed her?” Marissa asked furiously
as she collected herself from the floor. “You made her hit her head
on the boat.”

“No!” Brenna said, crying. She collapsed on the couch
and began to rock herself. She was about to lose control. She could
feel the rage welling within her. How could Marissa do this to her?
How could she corner her like this?

“Things just didn’t make sense,” Marissa said as if
thinking aloud, holding her head in an effort to stop the blood
from flowing out. “I guess I always suspected, but Hallie’s
suspicions confirmed it for me. I mean what was Morgan doing out
there? It was raining... She knew better than to be on a rowboat in
the rain. She wouldn’t have stood up on a rowboat so how could she
have slipped and hit her head on the side... Then there was the
missing oar... They dragged the lake and still couldn’t find it.
You took it with you, didn’t you?”

“Shut up,” Brenna warned her, grinding her teeth
together.

“I knew you had a dark side... No one could be that
perfect all the time,” she said with a giggle. “Good little Brenna
murdered her best friend... For what? A boy?”

“Shut your mouth, Marissa,” Brenna told her, shaking
uncontrollably.

As blood seeped down her cheek, Marissa whispered to
herself, “Wait until everyone hears about this... I wouldn’t have
believed it if I didn’t put it together myself.”

Suddenly, Brenna felt as if she was outside of
herself. She stood at the corner of the room, watching the scene in
horror.

She saw her head snap up, and her expression changed
from fear to one of menace. She grimaced, baring her teeth in a
manic expression.

As Marissa continued to talk to herself, she saw
herself stand up and grab an abstract bronze sculpture that was
perched on a side table. She crept up behind her as she was lost in
thought. In one swift movement, Brenna watched as she struck
Marissa over her head with all of her strength.

CRACK... The sound of Marissa’s skull breaking filled
the room.

Marissa didn’t have a chance. Her body instantly
crumbled to the floor, and she lost consciousness. Brenna stood
over her and continued to pummel her with blows to the head.

“Brenna, stop!”

Orman pushed her off Marissa, taking in the scene
before him in horror.

Brenna almost turned on him, but then she came into
herself again and regained some her senses. “She said something I
didn’t like,” she told him coldly, feeling empty inside.

“Shit, Bren! She is dead,” he told her, looking down
at Marissa’s bludgeoned body.

“She said something I didn’t like,” she repeated
mechanically, unable to bring herself to feel anything but
hate.

Orman appeared worried. “Okay, I am going to fix
this,” he said, pacing the carpet as he thought.

Brenna got up and walked out on the balcony, tossing
the sculpture into the bottomless black sea.

“Help me, Brenna,” Orman shouted as he began to drag
Marissa’s body across the floor.

Brenna ran over to him and grabbed her legs. They
carried her out onto the balcony and swung her over the rail,
throwing her lifeless body into the ocean.

“I’ll clean up,” he told her, brushing her hair out
of her face. “Go wash up. You have blood all over you.”

Brenna glanced down at herself absentmindedly,
realizing the spladder stains. “Are you mad at me, Orman?” she
asked him, sounding like a child in trouble.

“I can never be mad at you... I love you, Brenna. I
always have,” he told her, holding her in an embrace. “I am not
Dylan. I will protect you. We will fix this, because I love
you.”

His words didn’t make sense to her in her fragile
state of mind, and they did little to evoke any real emotion. She
slipped from his grasp and walked robotically to her suite. She
calmly washed up and went to bed.

Brenna grasped the railings, coming back into the
present. Tears streamed down her face, flowing freely down her
cheeks and pooling at her jaw. Her head momentarily stopped
spinning as she gulped in air by the mouthful. She was shaking from
head to toe as she gripped the banister for support.

She stumbled off the deck and walked unsteadily
through the halls until she found herself outside Chelsea’s
suite.

Sobbing, Brenna pounded on the door. “Chelsea, let me
in!”

When there was no response, Brenna opened the door
and walked into the dark room, searching the walls for the light
switch. “Chelsea?”

Flipping the switch on, Brenna stared around the room
in shock. There were no signs of Chelsea. There were no clothes. No
suitcase. No personal knick-knacks. Nothing... She just vanished.
The suite was empty as if she had never been there at all.

“Brenna, what are you doing?” Hallie asked, peeking
into the suite from the hall.

Brenna didn’t turn to face her uninvited guest.
Instead, she chose to remain silent and hope Hallie would be wise
enough to leave.

Hallie entered the suite, standing behind Brenna. “I
have been watching you as you come and go, walking in and out of
this suite for the passed few days now. What are you hiding in
here?”

“Hallie, leave me alone,” Brenna told her, feeling a
mixture of exhaustion and anger.

“I won’t. Not until you tell me what you are up
to?”

Brenna faced Hallie. “This is Chelsea’s suite,
Hallie,” she told her matter-of-factly, wiping away her tears in an
attempt to appear presentable.

“Chelsea’s suite?” she asked calmly, raising an
eyebrow.

“Yes! I really need to talk to her so please go,”
Brenna shouted, ready to burst into hysterics.

“Brenna, this room has been sitting empty since we
got here,” she told her matter-of-factly. “I should know...”

“What did you do?” Brenna questioned.

“I broke into it a few times to see what you were
doing in here,” Hallie admitted. “You have been acting suspicious
since you got here so why would I not follow you.”

“You are crazy, Hallie!”

“You are the only crazy one, Brenna,” Hallie shouted
at her. “Did you ever stop to think why you are the only one that
has seen Chelsea?”

Brenna gawked at her. “What are you saying?”

“Chelsea doesn’t exist, Brenna!” Hallie
exclaimed.

“Yes, she does!” she cried, hyperventilating. She
could feel a tickle in the back of her mind like a memory was about
to be made clear.

“Then, where did you meet her?”

“At camp,” Brenna said, feeling unsure and confused
as she wracked her brain for questions. “She was just there one
day...”

“How? How was she just there?” she questioned,
appearing desperate for answers.

Sobbing and holding her head in her hands in an
attempt to get a grasp on her emotions, Brenna felt a memory was on
the verge of being recalled. A memory which had been lost to her
for a year... It was a memory that her mind wasn’t ready to let
escape from the void, and an inward struggle ensued.

“I checked everywhere! Camp Summerwind never heard of
her,” she said sternly, holding her index finger down with her
other hand in a counting motion. “I questioned the camp counselors
that worked with you last summer... No one knew who I was talking
about! They did remember how weird you were acting though. Going
into the woods alone at night...”

Trying hard to hold herself together, Brenna began to
shake again.

“I even looked into town hall records! There were no
births of anyone named Chelsea Erving in the passed twenty years!
That is because there is no Chelsea Erving! She exists only in your
imagination!”

Hyperventilating, Brenna needed air. She could feel
her psyche begin to snap, and she feared that if she didn’t break
away from this situation, it had the potential to be deadly. “Get
away from me right now,” Brenna warned through gritted teeth,
holding her hands in the air in a motion of defense.