Page 31 of Judas
Exhaling, my eyes flutter open and I turn to Fury finally. She hasn’t moved, listening to everything like it’s the most rivetingstory she has ever heard. Hanging onto my every word, childlike in her curiosity, but her expression gives nothing away—I know her better than that. She’s trying to be empathetic.
“When I look at her, she’s covered in blood. Her eyes blackened, lips busted, nose broken. Her pretty hair isn’t tied up in a pony tail like I would have styled it as a little girl. No; it’s ratted, forest trash stuck in the strands, caked in more blood. Utterly wrecked. Last night? That was the scene. Except she was begging.”
Fury’s stylized brows pinch together in concern, her mouth parting open like a fish out of water. Hunting for the words to say but not a single one falls from her lips. I cut her off and focus back on my tender fingertips. I know how much she loves that. How do you fucking articulate the idea of your child begging for you? Needing you to help them when you’re trapped and there isn’t any way you can shed your waking life to save them from their dreamscape.
“She wasn’t just begging, she was screaming and I could hear everything she said. Every gasp for breath, every broken cry, watching her plead for mercy.”
“What did she say, Nadi?” She’s using the shorter version of my name, for familial sake.
“If you killed me, would I be with him— with my dad? I tried so hard to be a good girl— it’s not my fault the devil came for me. I want to be where the stars are born.”
My throat squeezes unti I can’t fucking breathe from repeating Sadie’s words out loud. A strange form of guilt settles over me, as it always does when I think about the nightmare.
“Nadi, at no point will I ever tell you that I understand what you went through or what may happen to you in the future. But know this: I will do everything I can to make sure you find your little girl. Now, later, whenever you tell me. It will be done.”
Fury’s words are like a sedative, my whole body relaxing under them. She must be taking lessons from Birdie. If you overlook the fact that I licked her across the mouth when we first met, she’s like the little sibling I never had. Hell, we have similar attributes, even if I’m taller and just slightly thinner. Bitch has the perfect chest-to-waist-to-ass ratio for her size. Whatever family she came from, fantastic genetics.
“Thanks, Imp,” I say, awarding her one of my fake smiles that she always takes as a bluff—it is.
“Welcome, Oni.”
Time Served —- Thirteen Years
Time Remaining — Four Years
“Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday dear Nadi, happy birthday to you.”
It’s not my birthday and I hate these bitches. Half kidding.
Jerrikah approaches with a corner slice of cake left over from dinner yesterday—yellow with extra chocolate frosting—my favorite. No candle, no cutlery, just sitting on a napkin in her hand as she delicately marches it over to me. My own hands close the book that sucked me in a few days ago:The BoneMan’s Daughters, a thriller about a traumatized soldier whose sister goes missing. It’s riveting, to say the least. By far my favorite jailhouse read.
When Jerrikah finally makes it to me, babying the slice of cake as though it’s the last one in the prison—which it might be—she reaches out and waits for me to blow the make-believe candle.Dropping my eyes to where it should be located, I wait and think of a wish before leaning in and blowing cool air in the vicinity.
Applause erupts when I am done and my heart swells. As I said, it’s not my birthday, but if it were, all of the birthday celebrations have been held in Bluitt. What do I mean? Well, my dad never honored my birthday. Let’s just say, my elementary school teacher had to explain what birthdays are and convince me that I had one. I, in fact, wasn’t made of clay that someone breathed life into. When I was old enough to understand, and had friends, I conveniently never told them. I was accustomed to avoiding it, no use in changing up the routine.
Welp, I never told these cunts either, so they picked the day I delivered Sadie as my own birthday. They meant well, don’t get me wrong, but I could have busted Tora in her face when she suggested this day. It took the calm-collected-guarded Monika to calm me down, Birdie at my back mentally collecting the details to use against me at a later date. Which, she does. Every time this day comes around, she’s prepped and ready to go, knowing I’ll likely break down in a few hours and rehash every memory before spiraling into a week of depression.
Yay.
“To the coolest pig in the room,” Fury jabs playfully.
“To the asshole who didn’t bring the cuffs,” chimes Tora.
Slut.
“Happy birthday, dear girl.”
“Thank you, Birdie.”
“Come to me when you’re ready to hide, okay?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Yael and Monika come by last, giving me a squeeze over the shoulders. You know one of those hugs that’s technically a hug, but the way you hold each other makes it almost awkward? That’s exactly what we do. It started off as something we alllaughed at, but since then it’s kind of grown into our own thing. Think… secret handshake.
As we all sit here, enjoying my so-called birthday, my mind begins to wander like it always does. Feeding pain directly to my soul.
Every damn inch of my legs and lower back hurt like a motherfucker. I swear this kid is lying in there horizontal to the earth, pushing at both sides of my pelvic bones, trying to get them to open wide enough to birth a buffalo. Don’t get me started on the Braxton Hicks; if they’re as mild compared to true contractions, I’m going to break in half.
