TRIGGER WARNING: The following chapters include scenes of cruelty, bullying, and ableism. If these themes are difficult for you, please prioritize your well-being and read with caution.
Chapter 4: Brianna
“So, what are you thinking?” said Mom, perusing the sticky, laminated menu they had to share because the restaurant only had one left. “We could share a couple of starters, if you like?”
“Sure,” said Brianna. “I’m easy.”
Peruzzi’s had always been Mom’s favorite restaurant, and when she’d suggested going out for a “girl’s day”, Brianna could have put her allowance on them ending up here. She used to love coming here as a child, thinking the worn checkered tablecloths and replica oil paintings were fancy. She knew the menu by heart, but just in case she needed a reminder, there were pictures of each meal placed thoughtfully beside their descriptions — the hallmark of any sophisticated eatery.
They were crammed into a small table for two, surrounded by a dozen other tables of families, with their little snot-nosed kids, faces smeared in pizza sauce and high on gelato, screaming and running rings around the tables, crashing into Brianna’s wheelchair as if she wasn’t even there. Much like the little shits’ parents, she did her best to pretend it wasn’t happening.
The over-familiar waiter took their order and left them in silence, and that suited Brianna just fine. She picked up her phone out of habit, scrolled for a while, then nosed around at what delights the other diners were feasting upon. She could tell her mom was bursting to start a conversation; her mouth opened and closed like a stranded fish, as if about to speak but then realizing she had nothing to say, and her leg was twitching under the table. At last, her mouth opened and words came out. “So, how are things at school?”
Brianna sighed. This was one of her mom’s go-to questions when they were alone together. She would always tell her that everything was “fine”, preferring to keep her suffering to herself. Mom would then give an awkward nod, like she didn’t really believe her, but it was easier for her not to pick at that scab. Brianna was glad she never did.
Today though, Brianna felt she should make more of an effort. After all, Mom had gone to the trouble of showering before noon. “It’s good.” she said, forcing herself to sound upbeat. “I got a hundred percent on my biology pop quiz the other day.”
“Oh wow… biology, huh?”
“Yup.” Mom wasn’t the science enthusiast that Dad and her were, and “biology, huh?” was about as much interest as she’d ever shown in any of her subjects. Brianna shifted in her chair and wondered when their food would arrive and rescue her from this tedious conversation.
“How’s the love life?”
Oh, god. “Are we really doing this, Mom?”
“What? Can a mother not ask about that sort of thing?”
“There’s nothing to report, okay? And, if there ever is, I promise, you’ll be the first to know.”
Brianna hoped her definitive response would keep Mom out of her business for the remainder of the day, but she wasn’t done yet. “I’d just love to see you socialize more, you know? Go out and make some friends.”
“I have plenty of friends.”
“Really? How come I’ve never met any of them?”
Brianna crossed her arms. “Well, because I chat to most of them online.” All of them, actually, but her mom didn’t need to know that.
Mom gave a patronizing laugh. “Oh, sweetheart. I didn’t mean those people, whoever they are. I meant real friends.”
“Those are my real friends!” said Brianna, picking at the skin of her thumb as she thought of Violet and Michaela, the last “real” friends she’d had.
“You know what I mean. I worry about you, sweetheart. You spend too much time in that bedroom of yours, it’s not healthy. Just think about what I said, that’s all I’m asking.”
“I will, Mom. I promise.” she said, realizing that agreeing with her was the quickest way to end this conversation.
***************
After lunch, they went shopping, and Mom dragged Brianna into a place she called, “a store for young people, like you”.
Brianna rolled her eyes at the sleek décor, confusing furniture and pretty staff who modelled the clothes they sold that would never look as good on her. Funky elevator music rung in her ears, and the sickly sweet scent of their very own unisex fragrance caught the back of her throat after a few minutes.
“Here.” Mom said, holding up a skirt that looked like someone had cut up a pair of cargo pants to make. “I think you’d look good in this. You know, with the top I just showed you?”
Brianna shook her head. “It’s not really my style.” She’d never wear something as short as that. Not anymore, at least.
“Well, is there anything you do like?”
She picked up a black baseball cap. This would be handy for when she hadn’t bothered to wash her hair in a few days, which happened more often than she’d like to admit.
“Oh, Brianna.” Mom whined. “You have a dozen just like that one at home.”
“But not in black,” she said, looking in the mirror as she tried it on. “Perfect. I’ll take it.”
As she dropped the hat in their shopping basket, her phone beeped, a message from a person she didn’t know:
Hey — can I ask you a question?
Brianna smirked. No doubt it was a bot, or some con artist trying to scam her. She got a kick out of messing with them though, and couldn’t help but reply.
Of course you can! What’s up?
Brianna was about to put her phone back in her pocket when it beeped again.
Why are you such a lying little cunt?
Brianna froze, staring at the message on the screen as her face burned bright red. It had to be Keara; no one else from school was this vile. Her eyes darted around the store, wondering if she and her little followers were watching her right now, laughing at her like they did every fucking day. It was bad enough that she had to suffer them in school, but now she—
“Sweetheart,” said Mom, frowning at her. “Is everything okay?”
Brianna forced a smile. “Fine, Mom.”
“Are you sure? Okay, let’s go pay for the hat if you really like it that much. My treat.”
When Mom turned away, Brianna sent another message of her own.
Fuck you.
Then she blocked them and put the phone away.
***************
Dad had called on the drive home to say he’d be home from work early, and even offered to bring in some take-out food for dinner. His way of an apology for having to work at all on a Saturday.
The three of them sat around the dining table, chatting as they passed cartons of noodles, rice, and sweet-smelling appetizers to one another. Brianna was just tucking into her main course when her phone beeped again, startling her as it almost vibrated off the table.
Brianna tensed, thinking of the message she’d received earlier. That was hours ago though — surely it wouldn’t another?
She checked the notification.
New Message Request.
Her grip on the phone tightened. It was probably Keara sending her another hateful message, too obsessed to leave her alone — pathetic. Whoever it was, they didn’t deserve her time or energy. She should just reject it, then block them again.
Her finger hovered over the Reject button… then moved over and tapped Accept. The message opened.
Why did you tell everyone it was Ryan O’Connell who ran you over?
She blocked them and dumped the phone back onto the table, causing the cutlery to rattle.
It beeped again.
Mom scooped the last of the rice onto her plate. “Brianna, put that thing away when we’re eating, sweetheart.”
Lying cunt. it read this time.
Brianna put the phone in her lap, staring at it as more messages flashed up on the screen:
Everyone at school hates you. You know that, right?
Brad hates you too.
He says he can’t believe he was ever attracted to you.
We all wish that car had killed you.
It would be so funny if you killed yourself.
She read the messages over and over again, fighting back her tears. Everyone hates me. They all wish I was dead. She had thought this was another one of Keara’s nasty little games, but what if it wasn’t just her? What if there were a whole bunch of them involved? Violet, Michaela, Keara, maybe even Brad. He never stood up for her the other day, or any other time his new girlfriend decided to torment her. Maybe he really did hate her.
Maybe it would have been better if she had died that night.
“Sweetheart, are you alright?”
Brianna snapped out of her trance. Mom stared at her with a concerned look, probably noticing that she’d ripped at the skin of her thumbs till they were raw and bloody.
“Fine.” she said out of habit.
“Are you sure?” Mom asked. Dad even looked up from his plate.
The dining table seemed to narrow till Brianna was inches from her parents. Two people who, no matter what anyone else said or did or thought, definitely loved her.
Before she knew it, Mom was up from her seat with an arm around her while she sobbed into her shoulder. “Oh that’s just… vile! Look at these messages, Arthur! Sweetheart, do you know who’s been sending these? How long has this been going on for?”
“It… it just started tonight.” she managed to say in between sobs. “And I bet I know who it is.”
“Who is it, sweetheart? You can tell your mom.”
“Keara McKenzie.”
“Keara? Brad’s new girlfriend?”
“Yes.” she said, glad to be reminded of that fact.
Mom’s face darkened. “That little witch — has she been giving you a hard time in school? Why didn’t you tell us? Well, don’t you worry about it, sweetheart. Everything’s gonna be okay, I’ll talk to—”
“Everything’s not gonna be okay!” she screamed, her voice cracking.
“Sweetheart,” said Mom. “What do you mean?”
As Brianna spoke, despair filled her, covering her like a dark storm cloud. “I have nothing. I have no friends, everyone in school hates me, either that or they avoid me because they think I’m fucking weird. I have no future, none that I want, at least. I have no life outside of my bedroom, and nothing — absolutely nothing — to look forward to. So, please, don’t tell me it’s gonna be okay. We all know it isn’t true.”
Mom looked at her, lip trembling, then hugged her in the tightest embrace. “Alright, sweetheart. It’s okay. I’ve got you.”
As Brianna hugged her mom back, Dad just stared at her. His face was puzzled, eyebrows raised, mouth wide open. Was he thinking of something to say, or deciding whether he should speak at all?
“That’s not entirely true.” he said. He’d never been great with this sort of thing, not the kind of person you’d chose to deliver bad news, or comfort someone when their life is falling apart.
“Arthur.” Mom gave him a look that said he should stop talking.
“I just mean that — you said you have no future. Well, I’m saying that maybe you do.”
Brianna wiped her nose on the sleeve of her hoodie. “What do you mean?”
“Brianna,” he said, then took a deep breath. “I can help you walk again.”
Chapter 5: Brianna
Dad stopped just outside the entrance to his workplace. “Let’s wait here for now.”
“Why?” asked Brianna, but he never answered.
She shivered as she took in the view. Towering mirrored windows reflected the ominous glow of the amber lights from above the deserted parking lot. Above the entrance, an unassuming black sign read, “Whitlock Industries”, with a large “W” as the logo. It was deathly quiet, save for the distant whisper of traffic from the city.
They had to do this at night, at least that’s what Dad had told her and Mom. It was the only time he could fit her in, apparently. Mom had wanted to come too, but Dad wouldn’t allow it.
Dad sure had been acting weird — quieter than usual, almost cagey. Any questions from Brianna or Mom had been met with curt responses, as if they were rude for even asking — why the need for secrecy? “It’s a complex procedure,” had become his catchphrase. The initial excitement Brianna had felt was long gone. Standing here now, she felt like she could throw up.
“Remind me how this works again?” Her voice quivered slightly. She picked at the arms of her chair, hoping for some morsel of reassurance from her dad.
“What?” he said, shifting from one foot to the other.
“The procedure, Dad. What’s going to be done to me, exactly?”
“Oh. It’s fairly simple, really. Sounds scarier than it is.” He fell silent again, glancing around as if the answer might be somewhere in the gloom of the parking lot.
“So…”
He frowned like she’d disturbed his train of thought. “So what?”
“So what’s the procedure? Jesus, Dad.” She bit the inside of her lip in an effort to keep her patience.
He sighed. “It’s basically keyhole surgery.”
“Yeah, I remember that part.” It was easy to remember as it was pretty much all he’d told her. “Do you know who will be operating on me — like, is there a team of surgeons?” She tried to imagine the set-up, wondering if they had a whole medical ward in there.
“Not exactly. We have a robot.”
“A robot?”
It was a good thing she hadn’t been allowed to eat all day as her stomach felt like it had fallen into a pit. Her mind flooded with visions of some heartless machine slicing her open and ripping out her vital organs. Why was he only telling her this now? “What kind of robot? Like a cyborg?”
Dad tutted. “No, more like, uh — like an MRI scanner with arms. The technology is state of the art – just wait till you see it.” His eyes were filled with excitement, and he was looking at her like she should feel the same way. All she felt was dread, however, like the feeling of seeing a “Point of No Return” sign on a rollercoaster you should never have lined up for.
“Will I be awake for this?”
“You’ll be put to sleep, but only for a few minutes. And the recovery is super quick — you’ll feel better after a day or two.”
Brianna closed her eyes, shaking off the image of the murdering robot, and tried to focus on something on more positive. If this worked, she’d be able to walk again, run again, maybe even race again. Her insides fluttered, the thought almost too exciting to imagine, but a malicious fear still lingered in the back of her mind, sniggering at her for daring to dream that her nightmare could soon be over. “How soon did you say it’ll be before I can walk again?”
“Hopefully three months.”
She nodded, trying to reassure herself. Three months was no time at all, she’d suffered this long, she could manage another few months. That is assuming the procedure went to plan, and watching her dad just now wasn’t filling her with confidence. He was pacing in a little circle, checking his watch, scoping out the parking lot every five seconds. He looked nothing like a pioneering scientist; more like some shifty character at a back alley drug deal. “Dad, are you sure this going to work?”
Dad flinched as if she’d just grabbed him by the shoulder, spinning round to face her. His usual poker face slipped for half a heartbeat, revealing a look of fear and desperation. Then his face hardened, mouth twisting into a snarl. “Do you want this done or not?”
Brianna sunk into her chair. “Of course I do, it’s just—”
“Do you have any idea how hard I’ve worked in the past year? The late nights, the weekends, all to give you your life back. A thank you would be nice, you know.”
“I’m grateful, but I’m just worried in case—”
“My job’s on the line even bringing you here tonight, so if you don’t want to go through with it, say the word and I’ll drive us home.” His ultimatum hung thick and heavy in the air, almost suffocating her. “Do you trust me or not?”
That’s what it came down to: trust. Of course she trusted Dad, but the man standing in front of her right now, she wasn’t so sure. How could she trust him when he didn’t seem to trust himself? “I… I don’t—”
Before she could answer, his phone rang, blaring through the silence. “We’re outside, what’s the hold up? Okay, great. On our way down.”
Dad marched towards the front door. “Let’s go.”
Well, what did you think?
Those messages were brutal, huh? Honestly, they were tough to write — but for the scene to land the way I wanted, they had to be awful. And while the story doesn’t spell it out, it’s safe to assume they came from Keara. She’s basically the Joffrey of this story, isn’t she?
And then there’s Arthur — Brianna’s dad. He’s acting pretty shady, but why? A procedure that could let her walk again sounds incredible, but is she right not to trust him?
Thank you again for reading and supporting the story. Just a little reminder — paid subscribers get the next chapters four whole days early. It’s only £3.50 a month, so why wait when you don’t have to?
I'm worried for Brianna. This is a great story!
Brutal indeed - but social media IS — a double edged sword for sure. She should NOT trust her dad, but she hasn’t got the intel we readers have — it’s too early in the process, there are still glitches. Reading on!