“Have you even brushed your hair in a week?” she finishes haughtily.
“What’s your problem, Ravenna? You look awful. Have you even brushed your hair in a week?”
A slow smile spreads across my face as I stare at the simpering idiot standing in front of me. This might be one of the best parts of my plan. If I’m going to destroy it all, might as well start with the useless best friend.
“He doesn’t want you. You realize that, right? You’re just a sad, pathetic little girl who can’t handle it when someone else has something you want.”
Her attitude vanishes and she drops her hands from her hips.
“W-what are you talking about?” she nervously stutters.
I laugh right in her face. How in the world would someone ever want to be friends with a girl who is so clueless?
“I saw you from my bedroom window, Trudy. Just because a guy feels sorry for you and spends a few minutes talking to you, doesn’t mean he wants you to throw yourself at him.”
She rubs her hands together in front of her worriedly.
“You saw us together?” she whispers in shock.
“If by together you mean mauling the poor guy in a sad attempt at trying to kiss him while he stood there with his arms out to the side and a horrified look in his eyes, then yes. I saw you together. Thanks for giving me something to laugh about for a few hours,” I tell her with a chuckle.
“You are a horrible person, Ravenna Duskin,” she tells me as her eyes well up with tears. You’re just jealous because he likes me.”
I throw my head back and laugh again. I laugh so hard and for so long that my stomach starts to ache. When the laughter subsides, I take a step toward her and get right up in her face.
“You’re just like every other whore, trying to take what isn’t yours. No one is falling for that innocent act you put on, you snobby, lying bitch.”
Her eyes widen in fear and it sends a thrill through my body. I want to claw at her perfect face and her perfect skin until blood drips down onto her perfect pink dress and ruins it. I want to rip every strand of her perfect blonde hair out of her perfect ponytail until she runs away screaming in pain. My hands start to shake and butterflies flap with excitement in my stomach.
She moves away from me, but she isn’t fast enough. My arm slices through the air and my nails scratch down the side of her neck. She lets out a yelp of shock and pain, her hand flying up to press against the angry red marks I left behind.
“You just scratched my neck!” she cries, her lower lip quivering as she quickly backs farther and farther away from me.
“Lucky you. I was aiming for your face.”
I stand in the hallway with a smile on my face, watching her turn and race out the front door as fast as she can.
“Hello? Ravenna? Did you even hear me?”
Blinking my eyes into focus, I glance at the side of Trudy’s neck, but sadly the marks from my nails have healed.
“So how’s the new kitten? Does she still have really sharp claws?” I ask with a raise of my eyebrow.
Her hand unconsciously comes up to the side of her neck, dropping it quickly when she realizes I’m staring at that spot, sad that evidence of my anger is long gone.
“I thought you couldn’t remember anything?” she asks reproachfully.
“Not everything. Not yet. Just a few things, like how you tried to steal Nolan from me.”
I’d like to take a moment to appreciate the fire I see in her eyes and her attempt at having a backbone, but she’s too stupid of a human being for me to waste that on.
“Oh, give me a break,” she scoffs. “You spent two years wanting nothing to do with him just because he was a gardener and too far beneath your social standards. The minute I show interest in him, suddenly you’re dressing like a slut and throwing yourself at him.”
I move right up in front of her until she has no choice but to take a few steps back, moving herself out of the doorway and back onto the porch.
“Did you know Ike has been missing for a few weeks? And my mother just died. Haven’t seen my father around in a few days either,” I muse, tapping a finger against my chin. “Strange how people around here disappear or end up dead, don’t you think?”
Trudy’s face turns as white as a sheet and without another word, she runs as fast as possible down the stairs and over to the driveway, jumping into her father’s Buick Electra. She doesn’t even waste time turning the car around; she just guns it backward down the long, winding drive.
Swiping my hands together like I just took out the trash, I close the front door and resume my pacing. My eyes wander to the basement door and I stop when a conversation flutters through my mind.
“Come on, let’s go into the basement.”
“Are you crazy? It’s scary down there.”
“It’s not scary when you go with someone else. Come on, there’s something I want to show you.”
“I’ve been down there before. Believe me, there’s nothing I haven’t seen.”
“You haven’t seen the bones…”
My feet carry me to the door as I try to remember more of the conversation. Who was I talking to? It must have been Trudy. Maybe I should have been a little nicer to her for a few more minutes and gotten some answers out of her. I try the handle and just like before, it’s still locked. I growl in frustration and it only takes me a second to remember something.
“You are such an idiot, Ravenna,” I mumble, running back down the hallway and up the stairs.
Shooting a dirty look at my father’s closed office door as I move past it, I scoop up the bent hanger that I left on the floor right outside the spare bedroom where Nolan tossed it there the other day. Heading back downstairs to the basement door, I slide to a stop across the hardwood in my stocking feet. Squatting down, I shove the end of the hanger into the keyhole and jiggle it around just like I saw Nolan do. I poke and jab, turning the hanger this way and that, quickly growing frustrated that picking a skeleton-key lock isn’t as easy as Nolan made it look. I keep working but after a few minutes, my fingers start to cramp from holding the piece of wire and trying to force it in the right spot.
Blowing my hair out of my eyes, I move the hanger into my left hand, shaking out the right to give it a little break before going right back to work. I’m pushing so hard in every direction in the tiny hole that the hanger starts to bend and still the door remains locked.
I need to get in that basement. I have to go down there. I don’t need to make sense of the things my mother told me. I don’t need to get into my father’s office. All the answers are down there—I know they are.
“Don’t go down there. You’ll never come up if you go down there.”
I quickly jump up away from the door guiltily, the wire hanger falling from my hands and clattering on the floor.
My father leans against the banister of the stairs, still wearing the same dark blue suit pants and white button-down from the day the coroner came to take my mother’s body away. After a week of wearing and sleeping in the same clothes, they’re now wrinkled, stained, and disheveled. One end of his shirt has come un-tucked from his pants and it hangs down over his belt and his short dark hair stands on end all around his head like he’s been constantly tugging on clumps of it.
I notice a half-empty bottle of whiskey dangles between two of his fingers down by his thigh and I roll my eyes. It’s a wonder he hasn’t drunk himself to death yet.
“Did you hear me, little girl? Don’t go down those stairs,” he slurs, swaying away from the banister.
I ignore his warning and shake my head at him. “You might want to try sobering up and taking a shower. The grounds crew hasn’t been here in days because they don’t know what they’re supposed to do and people keep calling about when we’re opening back up for tours.”
He stares at me without blinking, bringing the bottle up to his lips, tipping it back, and taking a huge swallow.
“You killed her,” he whispers as he takes
the bottle away from his mouth.
“I didn’t kill her. She stuck the gun in her mouth all by herself,” I remind him.
He shakes his head and his face scrunches up in misery. “No, no, no. It was your fault. You killed her. Oh God, what am I going to do? It will kill her if she finds out. I have to hide it—I can’t let her know.”
Has everyone around me gone mad?
He stumbles forward, his feet shuffling across the floor until he’s standing right in front of me. He smells of sweat, whiskey, and vomit, and I scrunch up my nose in disgust as I look up at him.
I used to think he was such a strong, powerful man. I would have done anything to make him love me. Now he’s just a sorry excuse for a human being, blaming everyone else for his problems.
His hand suddenly comes up and he cups my cheek in his palm, moving his thumb back and forth softly against my face.
“I’m sorry this happened to you. Come back to me. Please come back to me,” he sobs.
Smacking his hand away in frustration and tired of listening to the drunken nonsense coming out of his mouth, I move around him and head toward the door.
“Where are you going? You can’t leave. Don’t leave me!” he shouts.
“Clean yourself up for God’s sake,” I yell back, opening the front door.
Hurling his words at my back, he yells, “You’re going to see that good-for-nothing boy, aren’t you? Did he tell you? I knew he wouldn’t be able to keep his mouth shut.”
I pause with my hand on the door, turning back around.
“What in the hell are you talking about?” I ask through clenched teeth.
“I’ve seen you sneaking around with him. I know you’ve been talking. I should have known better than to trust him with a secret like that, good-for-nothing piece of trash.”
He brings the whiskey up to his lips and gulps it down while he moves around the banister and clumsily makes his way back upstairs.
“Tell him he’s fired,” my father yells down to me. “And tell him he should have minded his own business and stayed out of the woods that night.”
Chapter 15
Rain splashes down on my face and I slowly open my eyes, whimpering loudly at the stabbing pain in my head. It’s so dark, and everything hurts. I don’t know where I am; I don’t know what happened, and I don’t understand why I’m so wet and cold. I wish I could stop shivering because it just makes everything hurt worse.
I hear a noise close by, but my head hurts too much to turn it to the side to see what it is. I stare up at the black nothingness above me, wondering if this is a dream, hoping I’ll wake up soon so the knives stop stabbing into my head. I don’t know where I am. I don’t know what’s going on, and trying to think just makes my head hurt worse. I feel something slide under my legs and my back, and all of a sudden, I’m floating through the air. I cry out in pain as my body is jostled, not even caring what’s happening or where I’m going because at least I’m pressed up against something warm, instead of lying on the cold ground. A bright flash of light illuminates everything around me for a split second, and I gasp when I see the face looking down at me, recognizing it immediately.
His arms tighten around me as he moves faster, branches and leaves smacking into us, his heavy footsteps splashing through the puddles as he runs.
“You can’t save me,” I mumble to him, my eyes so heavy I can’t keep them open any longer.
“I’m getting you home.”
He struggles to get the words out, his breathing labored from running so fast with me in his arms. He finally breaks free of the woods and races through the yard. He has no idea I’m not referring to what happened out here tonight. No idea I’m trying to warn him. He can save me from the darkness in the woods, but he’ll never be able to save me from the darkness inside my soul.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I’ll never let anything happen to you again.”
Hugging my knees to my chest in the grass, I stare blankly at the cluster of trees and wooded area a few yards in front of me—the place where this nightmare in my mind began and never seems to end.
I try to let the anger flow through me and ease the pain I feel in my chest, but it’s not working this time. I let my guard down, I let someone close, and this is my reward: more lies and more betrayal, just like always. Didn’t I already learn my lesson by trying to be my parents’ puppet, the good, perfect little daughter? I should have known better than to do the same with Nolan, trying to be a normal teenage girl with a normal, kind boy.
He’s not kind. He’s a liar, and I hate liars.
I hear a rustle in the trees to my left, someone pushing his way through the branches, leaves, and broken twigs on the ground. I see him emerge from the woods out of the corner of my eye, but I don’t look until he’s standing next to me, towering over me while I sit in the grass waiting.
He’ll regret it, just like everyone else. He’ll regret the lies and the betrayal and I’ll make sure it hurts so he can understand what it’s like to really feel pain.
“Sorry I’m late. I had some things to take care of at home,” Nolan apologizes.
I finally turn my head and look up at him. The sun is behind him, creating darkness and shadows that blot out his features, just like that night in the woods. He turns his body and the sun finally lights up his face. I look up at him and see him, just like that night.
“You’re a liar,” I whisper angrily, pushing myself up from the grass so I don’t feel so small and powerless sitting beneath him.
His eyes narrow and he shakes his head in confusion.
“You didn’t need to hear any gossip from the other workers about what happened here that night, because you were there,” I growl.
His eyes close, he lowers his head, and I can practically feel the guilt seeping out of his pores.
“Ravenna, please let me explain,” he says softly.
I ignore the pain in his voice and try not to think about how stupid I’ve been with him. How uncomfortable it made me feel to have someone finally be nice to me, and care for me. He never cared for me; he’s just like all the rest.
“You don’t have to explain. You’re a liar just like everyone else.”
His pale blue eyes look at me with sadness and regret but I refuse to be weakened this time. I’m a fighter, and he’s going to finally realize that.
“I’m sorry. Please, Ravenna, just let me—”
I cut off his anguished apology with a hard shove against his chest. He stumbles backward and I follow.
“Liar,” I snarl through clenched teeth, smacking my palms as hard as I can into his chest again before he has a chance to get his footing from the first shove.
His feet tangle together and he starts to go down, but rights himself at the last second. I want him down, beneath me where he belongs, so I can climb on top of him, wrap my fingers around his neck and squeeze. Squeeze until he’s clawing at my fingers and choking on his breath.
“RAVENNA, STOP!” he shouts, wrapping his hands around my wrists and pulling me roughly up against him.
I’m breathing heavily, the fire inside of me churning and growing, wanting to hurt him. Wanting to bring him pain so he knows what it feels like.
“I know you’re angry, but you have to let me explain,” he pleads. “I’m sorry I lied to you. You have no idea how sorry I am, but I had a reason. Please, just let me explain.”
I force my anger down to a simmer since I’m still not ready to show him how truly strange I am, no matter how much I hate him right now.
“I know you don’t trust me, but I need you to go somewhere with me,” he explains quickly when he realizes I’m allowing him to continue. “I promise, if you just let me show you something, you’ll understand why I did what I did.”
He slowly drops my wrists, holding his hands up in surrender. “Please, just come with me.”
Nolan turns and begins walking away from me, glancing over his shoulder with pleading eyes that urge me to follow. I grudgingly star
t walking a few feet behind him as he steps onto the overgrown path leading into the woods.
We walk in silence through the trees and memories of that dark, rainy night float through my mind, but still not enough for me to remember why I was running and whom I was running from.
After a few minutes, we emerge on the other side of the woods, stepping out onto another lawn that leads to a small white cottage a few hundred yards away. I pause, staring at the house that I didn’t even know was here.
Nolan turns back to find me gaping, and he motions with his hands for me to keep following him. I let out an annoyed sigh, trailing behind him as he makes his way up to the front door of the house. He pauses with his hand on the knob, bowing his head and closing his eyes.
“I never lied when I told you I care about you, Ravenna. I do, I promise. You have no idea how much it’s been killing me keeping this from you, but I had to do it.”
“What is this place?”
He turns back to look at me and shrugs. “It’s my home. Well, my parents’ home. We’ve lived here all my life. Before my father died, he used to be the head groundskeeper at the prison and this house came with the job. It’s one of the reasons I wasn’t completely honest with you.”
Nolan looks away and opens the door, stepping inside the small house. I follow behind him, moving into a tiny living room, shrouded in darkness with the shades drawn.
“What’s the other reason?” I ask as he moves around me to close the door behind us.
I hear a cough and a gentle groan of pain in the far corner of the room. I take a step toward the noise, squinting my eyes as I realize there’s someone sitting in a chair in the shadows.
Nolan moves up behind me, his chest pressing against my shoulder as he looks in the same direction.
“She’s the other reason,” he whispers, moving around me to walk farther into the room and over to the corner.
I watch silently as he raises one of the window shades a few inches to let some sunlight filter in, the bright rays shining down on the lower half of the woman in the chair, who’s sitting up with a blanket draped over her lap. Nolan squats down in front of her, placing his hands on her knees.