All Chapters of Mesmerize Me: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

After three unbearable weeks, they finally removed the cast. The first week was more chaotic for Mom than for me; she insisted on not letting me move even an inch on my own, as if every step would end in tragedy. Little by little, we found our rhythm, though she never stopped watching me out of the corner of her eye like a personal security guard. The second week was more manageable, though navigating the school hallways was exhausting. The pain in my armpits from the crutches became a constant nuisance—not to mention that as the day went on, the distance between classrooms felt equivalent to running a marathon. Still, with routine came adaptation. The third week was the worst: the itching under the cast was unbearable. I counted the days until my hospital visit to finally have it removed and take a proper shower—without relying on wipes for my foot. «I swear my feet smell.» When the day finally arrived, I felt like I was floating. Figuratively, of course—jumping was sti

There are moments when people talk to you, and you say you’re listening, but you’re not really hearing them—so you don’t understand what they’re saying. That’s what was happening with Jacob, because what he was telling me couldn’t be true. It didn’t make sense. No. It wasn’t true. Mom was supposed to pick me up. She said she would. That was the plan. My mom would come for me. My mom would come. I shook my head, certain she’d be here any second. “No. You didn’t need to come get me. My mom will be here any moment.” «She… she told me she had things to do and then she’d come.» Jacob hugged me tighter, holding my head with one hand as he whispered in my ear: “I’m so sorry, Cami.” “Jacob, no. My mom will be here soon.” “I’m so sorry, Cami.” “No, Jacob.” “Cami…” My heart stopped. Panic rose inside me like an uncontrollable wave; I couldn’t breathe, my chest felt like it was going to burst. I didn’t know if I wanted to scream, throw up, or cry. One

Another Monday… Another Tuesday… Another Wednesday… Another Thursday… Another Friday… Another Saturday… Another Sunday… *** The days passed as if time had lost its edges. Nothing in the house sounded the same since Mom was gone; even the clocks seemed to mark the hours in a different language. Dad didn’t pressure me to go back to school. He told me I could stay home for as long as I needed. Kate took notes for me and dropped them off in the afternoons, always accompanied by a forced smile or a chocolate she claimed was ‘medicine for the soul’. Dad didn’t seem eager to return to work either. His office had handled the pending contracts, and he took a few days off. I suppose neither of us wanted to be alone with our own thoughts. At least we had each other. Sometimes we met in the kitchen and shared a coffee in silence. I watched him sitting across from me, hands clasped together, eyes fixed on his cup as if searching for answers at the bottom. I under

“You have to come with me,” he insisted, desperation now trembling in his voice. Jacob tensed further and stepped forward. Paul raised his hands as if trying to calm things down, but his eyes revealed something dark. “Sweetheart, you have to come with me. It’s only natural,” he repeated—and then added something that froze the room. “I assumed legal custody of you.” The smile he wore when he said it sent ice through my veins. Jacob and Dad went rigid, but I let out a dry laugh. I think everyone was confused by the way I laughed—and maybe it took me a second longer to stop. “‘Natural?’ ‘Legal custody?’ After disappearing for more than a decade?” I asked, still laughing. His serious expression was almost poetic—completely out of sync with the nonsense he was spewing. “Do you really think you can drop an ‘I am your father’ line like it’s ‘Star Wars’ and expect me to follow you? In the movie,

The month since Mom had been gone felt strange, almost unreal. Sometimes I thought I could hear her laughing in the hallways, as if her voice had been trapped inside the walls of what had once been our family castle. Grief, however, was beginning to settle like a light fog—it was still there, but it no longer covered everything. It helped that at school, the whirlwind of poisonous comments had finally died down. I suspected it had something to do with Kate’s pit bull stare, capable of making even dragons retreat, and with Justin’s carefree confidence—like an accidental, altruistic knight, though there was nothing altruistic about him because it was obvious he thinks where there's a will, there's a way. Between the two of them, they had given me a kind of invisible shield. It was Thursday when Jacob stopped by the house. We could hear him talking with my dad at the kitchen counter, their voices blending with the soft hum of the coffee maker and the sme