Page 70 of Unbound
Except this time it wouldn't just be walls. It would be ice and electricity and breaking.
I examined the room with new eyes. The belt they'd left me—could it hold my weight? The window was nailed shut, but glass could break. The lightbulb overhead—I could smash it, use the shards.
My mind went to dark places, calculating possibilities. Would it hurt? Would it be quick? Better than a year at Restoration Ridge. Better than being broken again, worse this time.
My parents would find me in the morning. Would they grieve? Or would they be relieved? "At least he's with God now, free from his demons."
My hands shook as I reached for my belt, fingers testing the buckle's strength. The leather was solid, well-made. It would hold.
I imagined the relief of just... stopping. No more fighting, no more pretending, no more electric shocks or ice baths or being told I was diseased. No more anything. My mind flashes back to Restoration Ridge, to Andrew again.
Andrew hanging in the shower room, his face blue, tongue protruding. The staff calling it "an accident" while everyone knew better. His parents at the funeral, actually thanking God that their son was "free from sin."
Friday passed in a haze. My parents brought food I didn't eat. My mother tried to talk to me through the door; I didn't respond. My father's voice, harsh: "Sulking won't change anything. You're going."
I watched light fade through the nailed-shut window, belt still in my hands like a talisman. Having the option was almost comforting. I tried to pray but the words felt hollow. God felt absent—had always felt absent, really.
Maybe there was no God. Maybe Adrian was right about everything.
I remembered the kiss—that moment of pure rightness. Ten seconds of being completely myself. Was it worth this? Worth dying for?
As darkness fell Friday night, I made my decision. I couldn't face Restoration Ridge again. I wouldn't survive it this time. Better to die here, in my childhood room, than let them break me slowly.
At least it would be my choice. At least I'd maintain that much control like Andrew had.
I stood on the bed, testing the ceiling fixture. It would hold my weight. My hands shook as I formed the loop, as I slipped it over the light fixture.
This was it. Better than the alternative.
I thought of Adrian's face when I kissed him—surprised, then tender, then devastated as I ran.
"I'm sorry, Adrian" I whispered to the empty room. "I'm sorry I wasn't brave enough."
I was reaching for the loop when voices erupted outside my door.
"Let me talk to him, David. Please." My mother's voice, desperate.
"He needs to learn. Coddling him is what led to this." My father, immovable.
Then another voice that made me freeze: "Mr. Miller, please let me speak with him. Just five minutes."
Rebecca. Rebecca was here.
"Five minutes to say goodbye, Rebecca" my father said grudgingly. "That's all."
The lock clicked. I barely had time to hide the belt before the door opened and Rebecca slipped inside. It locked behind her immediately.
She took one look at my face, at the ceiling fixture, and understood.
Her hand flew to her mouth. "Oh God. Jesse, no."
She crossed to me in three steps, grabbed my hands. "No. Whatever you're thinking, no."
"You don't understand," I whispered. "They're taking me back there."
"I know. Your mother told me everything." She pulled something from her pocket. "I came because—"
My phone. She was holding my phone.
