Free Bitter Root by Laydin Michaels

things going on these days. I
don’t even know some things about myself, and everybody around me wants to tell
me who I am .
    There was no way she’d be able to sleep. Too many thoughts
bounced around in her head, crashed into each other, and kept her all keyed up.
By the time she showered and climbed into bed she’d half convinced herself to
tell Griffith everything and ask for her help. She’d played out so many scenes
in her head. How Griffith would be disgusted with the idea of her past and call
the law down on her. How she’d spend the rest of her life in an orange
jumpsuit, watching reruns and eating gruel.
    Or that Griffith would be on her side and try to ferret J.B. out
of his liar’s nest and bring him to justice. How she’d stand in front of Adi
and call him out on the things he’d made her do. Her two-page spread of his
inglorious history as a drug dealer open in front of them while they dined on
the finest food Adi could prepare. His angry, red face as he was taken into
police custody.
    But none of that would happen. It couldn’t. She didn’t trust the
situation with Griffith enough to give her the truth. She needed the security
of her deception. Even more, she needed to sleep. She finally gave up and
switched on her radio, letting the music carry her out of her head and into
sleep.

    She was
skipping up the pier, looking forward to seeing Rachel at the store. Papa had
promised to take her this afternoon, and she knew she should be happy, but
something was sitting on her chest, making her feel like crying instead of
laughing. Something she couldn’t explain, but it got stronger and stronger the
closer she got to the bait shop.
    When she
was six feet away, her feet seemed to stick to the worn wooden boards of the
pier. She looked down in panic to see why it felt that way. Her feet were
melted into the wood, her shoes now one with the planks below them. When she
pulled to loosen them, they stretched and elongated, making her legs look like
the giraffe she’d seen on TV. Finally, she pulled hard enough to pop one foot
up. It snapped back into shape without any pain but stuck fast when she set it
back down.
    Seized by
terror at what was happening to her, she screamed, cried out for Papa to come
help her. She pleaded with God to send him out of the bait shop. She watched
the door, hoping to see him coming. When it finally began to open, relief
flooded through her. But there was something wrong. The door, which normally
swung freely open, was sticking to the frame, stretching just like her feet.
She saw someone on the other side, pushing with their back to the door.
    “Papa,
Papa, help me,” she cried.
    The door
opened fully, but the person pushing it stretched out and exploded. A mist of
red wafted toward her, bathing her in its sticky brilliance. Blood. Everywhere
she looked, bright rivers of red blood all cascaded toward her. She felt the
first wave of blood touch her and shrank back from it. But it was no use. It
flowed up her legs, swarming around her knees and into the bottom of her
shorts. Soon she was covered from the waist down in the cloying, sticky mess.
    “It’s going
to strangle me. If that blood reaches my neck, it’s going to suffocate me.”
    She
screamed again, calling for her papa. He was there, coming through the door. He
put his foot into the cavity that had been the other person’s chest and walked
quickly toward her. He would save her. Now he would save her.
    He walked
toward her, raising his hand. A gun? Why does papa have a gun? The blood was
almost to her neck. “Papa, please!”
    There was a
flash and she flew backward, pain slicing through her.

    Adi sat up clutching her chest, sweat making her shirt cling to
her. Her pulse raced, and she tried to calm herself by taking deep breaths.
    That didn’t
happen. It was a dream. She felt wetness on her cheeks and knew
she’d been crying in her sleep. I
can’t let him find me.

Chapter Six

    Griffith walked out onto the dock at the