Cassie's Nightmare

October 23

 

Dear Diary,

 

Last night, I dreamed about the terrible accident that took BC’s life.  Even though it was only a dream, it all seemed so real—exactly like it happened last June.  He was stretched out on the asphalt next to his motorcycle.  His eyes were wide open, but he didn’t blink.  Poor BC was dead.  His mouth was bloodied and some of his teeth were broken.  I woke up in a panic and you can bet that I had a hard time getting back to sleep.  It was a grizzly sight.  Ugh!

 

BC had promised Granny that I would be staying with his family at their lake house.  Granny was led to believe everything we did would be under his mom and dad’s supervision.  BC’s parents would act as chaperones.  This arrangement made Granny feel better about me going away with a boy for the week.  Honestly, I really expected to meet BC’s parents, but on the drive down to Lake Barkley, he came clean and admitted that his mom and dad would not be there.  Instead, he had invited the members of his band, Snakeskin Cowboys, to hang around the lake house and party for the week.

 

As you may recall, I once had a crush on the band’s guitar player, Roland Wick, that ended in a royal disaster.  If I may refresh your memory, dear diary, I almost got arrested and sent to juvey jail for putting on a peep show.  Dressed only in my birthday suit, I strutted around in front of my bedroom window hoping to catch Roland’s attention.  That was the plan, but instead of Roland, I snagged his mom’s attention—and she did not like what she saw.  Mrs. Wick called the cops and, like I said, I came mighty close to being arrested on lewdity charges.  Well, considering all the commotion that followed, the idea of facing Roland again seemed kind of awkward.  Anyway, when I mentioned this, BC told me to forget all about Roland.  Roland had left the band a couple of months ago and had been replaced with a new guitarist. 

 

I began to see all kinds of possibilities in a “parent-free” vacation at the lake house.  Without meddling adults poking their noses into our affairs, my boyfriend and I would be free to do whatever pleased us.  Who would be around to say “no” to us?  I don’t mind telling you, dear diary, that BC was like super handsome.  He had the looks and the build that tend to drive chicks wild.  Toss in a wealthy family, a motorcycle, and a double portion of cockiness, and BC was the kind of guy girls quite naturally dream about.   What’s not to like?  He was like perfect.  When I landed BC, I assumed that I had hit the jackpot.  Or so I thought. 

 

Those six days at the lake house are kind of like a blur.  How do I explain this?  There are some things I simply don’t remember, and there are other things that I sort of remember, but when I try recalling everything that went on during that week, the events seem kind of hazy and confused—foggy might be a better word.  Yeah, it’s like my memories at the lake house are kind of blurry or foggy—all jumbled up in my brain. 

 

We drank a lot, and we smoked a lot of weed.  The other band members showed up at the lake house high on pills with plenty to share. I have no idea what kind of pills I swallowed.  More than once, I got sick, and I seem to recall BC screaming at me for throwing up on the sheets.  I didn’t feel so good, but he made me strip the bed and run the sheets through the washing machine.  My stomach churned and my head ached.  I thought I was going to die.

 

During the week, three or four other girls arrived at the lake house to party. They were older than me and I can’t seem to recall their names or what they looked like.  I have a faint recollection that these girls kind of looked down on me.  They thought they were better than me.  One of them called me a “silly little bitch.”  I didn’t appreciate that. 

 

I was like everyone’s slave.  If someone got hungry, BC sent me to the kitchen to make them a sandwich.  If someone spilled a drink, BC ordered me to clean up the mess.  His bandmates were constantly touching me.  The only thing I was allowed to wear at the lake house was my skimpy little yellow bikini.  BC said he enjoyed showing me off to his friends.  At first, I kind of liked being the center of attention, but later, I felt kind of cheap.

 

One morning, I woke up in the drummer’s bed.  I don’t know how I got there or what we did the night before.  Honestly, I was afraid BC would be furious with jealousy, but I later discovered BC had spent the night with one of the girls who had come by to party.  I cannot be sure, but I think BC sort of “loaned me” to his drummer.  The following night, he sent me to keep the bass player company.  I told BC that I only wanted to be with him, but when he went off on me, I thought I had better do as I was told.  BC had a temper, and alcohol seemed to fuel his anger.  More than once, he threatened me and, honestly, I was afraid.  When he gave me an order, I obeyed.  When he mistreated me, I cried.  BC’s yelling and screaming and pushing me around only made me want to pour another drink or gulp down more pills.  Everyone else might have been having a good time, but I wanted to go home.  While at the lake house, I saw a side of BC that I never knew existed. 

 

I don’t want to talk about this anymore tonight.  It was awful.  BC didn’t love me. He only used me.  And now he’s dead and even though he behaved like a monster, I loved him.  I think I still love him.  Weird, isn’t it?

 

I am going to pray that I won’t have any more bad dreams tonight.

 

Love ya,

 

Cassie

 

Cassie’s Diary Volume I, written by Cassandra Chumbley and Achee Aichdee, is scheduled for publication this fall.