Pulled Within by Marni Mann Page A

farther. “Rae, she’s already in rough shape.” His voice was smooth like he was trying to calm me down. “What you’ll do to her will only make it worse. It’s not worth it.”
    An obnoxious and extremely fake giggle came from her lips. “Rough shape… pleeease . At least my face doesn’t look like hers.”
    “Shut up, Becky,” Caleb yelled over his shoulder. “Sit on that bed and stop fucking talking.”
    Whatever he was doing to kill my anger was overpowered by her irritating smirk. I leaned back and placed my hands on his chest. “Get out of my way,” I shouted, shoving him as hard as I could.
    He came forward again. “Jeremy,” Caleb said, his voice still calm, “come take Rae to her room before she kills Becky.”
    “She’s not going to kill me, baby.” Becky giggled. “Scare me, maybe.”
    I lurched forward again; Caleb stopped me. He turned around and pressed his back against me, holding my arms down with his. “Shut the hell up!” he screamed at her. “Do not say another fucking word, do you hear me? You’re lucky I don’t come over there and knock your ass out.”
    I sucked in a breath as I felt Jeremy’s hands on me. I waited for his fingers to lift and graze my hair or the side of my head. If that happened, the three of them would really see me flip out, but for a completely different reason.
    He gripped my waist and my arm and gently pulled me out of Caleb’s room and into mine. Then he stationed himself in the doorway to keep me from running back out. I leaned against the far wall and tried to catch my breath.
    “She’s a whore,” he said. “It don’t matter what she says.”
    He was right; it didn’t matter. But I could still feel her words and her expression. It felt like they’d slashed my skin, like the pain in my scar was fresh all over again.
    “If she knew what happened to you, she’d feel like a fucking fool,” he said. He wiggled out the joint that had been tucked between his head and ear and handed it to me, with a lighter.
    It seemed as if he had an endless supply of drugs on him at all times. I suddenly appreciated that.
    I stuck one end in my mouth and lit the other. The weed wasn’t going to soften her words, or make me forget them. But it would help stop my brain from wandering and help me fall asleep. And I was going to need it. On my way back from work, I’d heard on the radio that a rainstorm was headed our way. The thought of that made me suck down even more of the joint.
    “You want some of this?” I asked him, nodding toward the weed.
    He shook his head. “Nah, you keep it.” He was lighting his own joint. I didn’t know where that one had come from. This time I didn’t care. He had given me my own, and that was all that mattered.
    I finished it and crashed, without even bothering to clean the room like I’d wanted to.
    ***
    My body still wasn’t used to this new schedule, and as a result, I only slept for about five hours. When I woke up, I downed half a bowl of cereal and drove to work.
    I sat in the back lot behind the casino, my hands circling the top of the steering wheel, even though the car was in park. I could feel what the lack of sleep and food were starting to do to me. My collarbone stuck out more than usual; my belt was on the tightest notch. I didn’t like being this skinny, but there was nothing I could do. My body was completely in control until December seventeenth. Weed should have made me hungry; it didn’t. I could feel the hollow of my stomach gurgling, trying to reject whatever it held but finding nothing of substance.
    I just had to wait this out and continue eating tiny amounts for the next twenty-seven days . After that, my appetite would return. My hair would thicken, and my body would fill out again.
    When this first happened five years ago, I tried to stop it from repeating the following year. To keep my mind straight. To forget the significance of that date.
    To forgive what had happened, and the one who’d