Overboard Read online

  “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 splatter 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.

  “I need to know... what happened to my sister, Brenna,” Hallie asked with her feelings ranging from sadness to anger.

  Brenna gave in to the visions that
began to bombard her fragile mind. “I need to think, Hallie,” she said, feeling as if she were ready to lose control. “I can’t breathe. I can’t think...”

  It was a rainy night. Morgan had invited Brenna for a midnight swim hours before, but when the sky turned dark and it began to pour, Brenna tried to cancel their plans. But Morgan wouldn’t hear of it. She said she had to discuss something important with her. So, Brenna met her by the dock, and they took the rowboat out on the lake.

  Sinking deeper into her raincoat, Brenna asked over the loud roar of the rain, “What are we doing out here, Morgan? We should go back. This is dangerous!

  “Stop being such a wimp and live a little,” Morgan said with a devilish twinkle in her eyes.

  “That is exactly what I plan to do,” Brenna retorted sarcastically. “I want to live, not die!”

  “I really don’t understand what Dylan sees in you, Brenna,” she commented, rowing the metal rowboat towards the center of the lake. The metal groaned with each movement of the heavy wooden oars, and the rainwater began to gather in the bottom of the vessel. “He is so much more adventurous. You’re so safe! So boring!”

  Brenna brushed off her comments, worriedly looking out at the black water which surrounded the boat.

  “I like to live my life dangerously,” she said stopping the rowboat halfway across the two-mile wide lake.

  “What are you doing?” Brenna asked, panicking as she watched Morgan remove the oars from the side of the boat and place them into the vessel.

  “We are staying put,” she told her, adjusting her rain slicker as the downpour became more intense.

  Hyperventilating, Brenna begged Morgan, but she ignored her. “Morgan, we have to go back! We are going to sink out here, and you know I can’t swim!”

  “You have something I want,” Morgan said menacingly, grinning wickedly.

  Brenna recognized her expression.

  Morgan was the rich one. Morgan’s parents gave her whatever she wanted without question. She was used to getting what she wanted. Like when they were seven years old and she wanted a doll Brenna got for Christmas. She cried and cried until Brenna’s mother gave it to her with the promise of buying another one for Brenna, but that never happened.

  Or the time when their parents brought them to the playground. There was a big wooden play set, complete with fortress and slide. Morgan claimed the slide on the playground for herself, and Brenna decided to disobey Morgan’s orders, going down the shoot first. By the time Brenna climbed the ladder for another round on the slide, Morgan was waiting and pushed her off the wooden ladder. Brenna flew through the air, landing on her arm with a crack. It was broken in two places.

  That was the kind of friend Morgan Seymour was. She was the leader of their little pack. Brenna, Marissa and Hallie were just followers. As long as they obeyed her, she was the sweetest person to be around, but she was rotten to the core. If you had something she wanted, watch out!

  “What do you want from me, Morgan?” Brenna asked, fearing her reply.

  Morgan smiled, giving Brenna a chill that went up her spine. “I want Dylan, Brenna, and you are going to give him to me.”

  Brenna stared at her in shock. “But Morgan, please... I―”

  “I want him!” Morgan whined, grasping an oar.

  “He is not mine to give, Morgan. Dylan has a mind of his own, and he wants to be with me!” Brenna shouted at her, feeling trapped and afraid.

  “He’s mine!” Morgan shouted, swinging the oar and hitting Brenna on the side of her head with it.

  Semi-conscious, Brenna fell back into the bottom of the rowboat. Shaking, she ran her hand through her hair, feeling her wound. When she brought her hand to her face, it was caked in bright red blood. Sobbing, Brenna asked, “What did you do?”

  “Why did you have to talk back to me, Brenna? Why couldn’t you just give me what I wanted?” Morgan asked cruelly, dropping the oar and standing before Brenna.

  Brenna stared back at her in disbelief as her tears mixed in with the raindrops.

  “He is mine. He wants me... but you don’t get that. You just won’t go away,” Morgan rambled. “So, I am going to make you go away.”

  Morgan reached for the oar once more, and knowing what she had planned, Brenna kicked her as hard as she could in her gut. The sudden impact made Morgan lose her balance. She fell off the rowboat and into the water.

  When Morgan resurfaced, she was five feet out. Brenna watched as she bobbed along the surface of the water, trying to swim back towards the boat. “I am going to kill you,” she growled, reaching for the rim of the boat and trying to climb back in.

  Without thinking, Brenna scooped up the oar and swung it like a baseball bat until it made contact with Morgan’s skull.

  Morgan howled as she sunk back into the water, using her remaining strength to stay afloat. “Are you going to kill me, Brenna?” she asked as blood streaked her face. “You don’t have the guts.”

  Brenna stood up on the small vessel and looked down at her in the water. “I don’t want to, Morgan,” she cried, still grasping the oar.

  “I am going to take everything from you,” Morgan ranted. “I won’t stop! Everything you have will be mine!”

  Brenna knew Morgan had always been jealous of her. She had loving parents. She had a good boyfriend. She had people that genuinely cared around her. Morgan had nothing. Nothing but money. She wouldn’t stop tormenting her until she was dead. “Please, Morgan, don’t... make me.”

  “I’ll kill you!” Morgan shouted.

  Holding the heavy, wooden oar over her head, Brenna brought it down on Morgan’s head. She heard a crack that was similar to the sound of thunder as it penetrated the silent night. In shock, Brenna realized she had hit her so hard she broke the oar, splintering it into two pieces. When her eyes made contact with Morgan once more, she saw the horrific sight of her friend’s lifeless body, floating along the surface of the water.

  Hyperventilating, Brenna began to struggle for breath. Her breaths came out in ragged expirations, and she felt faint.

  Shaking, she grabbed her chest, feeling her heart ache. The feeling of her heart beating over a hundred beats per minute made her legs begin to buckle.

  Suddenly, Brenna realized she wasn’t the only one standing atop the rowboat. Confused, Brenna looked beside her and saw a familiar face.

  “I am Chelsea,” the girl smiled.

  Brenna stared at her confused. She seemed unaffected by the elements around her. She was completely dry. She stood next to Brenna like an angel of mercy. Not a hair out of place.

  “I... didn’t mean to,” Brenna told her.

  “Shhh, I am going to take care of everything,” Chelsea told her calmly. “Now, let’s row back to shore.”

  Brenna followed Chelsea’s instructions, leaving Morgan’s body in the water. Once they reached the dock, Chelsea told her to remove the broken paddle and her boots.

  “No dog can follow a scent through water. There is no chance with this rain that your scent will be on this boat,” she told Brenna, kicking the boat away from the dock so that it floated back into deeper water. “It wouldn’t be uncommon for a boat to drift away from the scene of an accident.”

  Brenna stared at her silently, untying her boots.

  “They will be able to follow your tracks in this mud. So, once you are done taking off your boots, you are going to drag your feet along the mud. The rain should wash away any evidence, but if it doesn’t, it won’t look like a boot print.”

  “Why are you doing this? Why are you helping me?” Brenna asked, slowly awakening from her shock.

  “I am your other half, Brenna,” Chelsea told her. “Your stronger half. I will always take care of you. You are apart of me.”

  Chelsea wasn’t real. She was just a coping mechanism that Brenna’s brain thought up. Chelsea was able to think clearer and took over when Brenna wasn’t ready to deal with her problems. It is funny what will happen when you are hit over the head with a pad
dle, Brenna thought with a sad smile.

  “Just tell me the truth,” Hallie begged.

  Brenna began to walk to her room, but Hallie blocked her exit.

  “You are not leaving until you tell me the truth!”

  Then Brenna snapped. Her posture changed, and her inner storm suddenly went silent. A sense of calm washed over her. Her heart stilled, and her breathing decreased until each expiration was inaudible. In a deep voice that she didn’t recognize, Brenna heard herself say, “Your sister got what she deserved.”

  * * * * *

  An hour had passed since Hallie ran away in tears. Brenna sat quietly in her room, feeling as if she were looking at the world through new eyes. She had regained her memories and realized what Chelsea was. She was no longer the confused girl that boarded the ship a few days ago. She felt like a new person. She was fearless.

  Suddenly, there was a knock on her door.

  “Come in,” she called.

  Dylan entered, forgetting to close the door behind him. “Is it true? Did you kill Morgan?”

  “Me?” Brenna asked with mock disbelief, placing a hand on her chest.

  “Hallie came to me crying. She said you practically admitted it,” Dylan explained, enraged.

  “Hallie is still grieving,” Brenna told him calmly. “She doesn’t know what she heard.”

  “Well, what did you tell her then?”

  Brenna stared at him squarely in the eyes. “I told her that her sister deserved what happened to her.”

  Dylan stared back at Brenna, appearing surprised. “What?”

  “I told her that Morgan deserved what happened to her,” Brenna told him matter-of-factly. “I don’t regret saying it. Hallie has to understand her sister wasn’t the saint she remembers.”

  “What has gotten into you, Brenna?” Dylan questioned angrily. “Have you lost your mind?”

  “No, I have just regained it,” Brenna told him, watching as Orman entered the room soundlessly.

  He was obviously drunk, holding a half empty wine bottle in his hands.

  “If you had anything to do with Morgan’s death or Marissa’s disappearance, I won’t help you, Brenna,” he told her, fuming. “I don’t want anything to do with you!”

  She watched as Orman crept up behind Dylan, taking hold of him and throwing him against the wall. “Stay away from her!” Orman screamed at him. Before Dylan could react, he turned over the wine bottle and broke it over Dylan’s head.