Raveling You
Page 9
I probably should respond to her message, at least to tell her I’m okay, but I can’t think of what to say.
“Everything okay?” Lyric asks.
I concentrate on the song list again. “Yeah, of course.”
She watches me instead of the road. “Who was that text from?”
“Lila. She just wanted to let me know she needs to talk to me about some stuff when I get home.”
“Are you sure that’s all she wanted?”
I nod, unable to look her in the eyes, knowing she’ll see right through my lie.
Liar, liar, alone in the dark,
Hide the truth from your heart.
Lock your soul in a box.
Melt the key.
Set the box on fire.
And burn in into oblivion.
Let the ashes scatter the ground.
And never utter a sound.
Liar, liar, alone in the dark.
Lyric’s chest rises and falls, as if she’s struggling to breathe. “If you don’t want to tell me, then that’s fine. But just say so. Don’t lie to me, please.”
God, I’m the biggest asshole ever. I really am.
“The police want to talk to me.” The words are difficult to say.
Her gaze glides to mine and her grip tightens on the wheel. “When do they want to talk to you? Tonight?”
I shake my head. “I don’t think so, but Lila didn’t say.”
“Are you… Are you going to be okay? I mean, with talking to them.”
“I don’t know,” I admit honestly. “I guess it depends on what they want to talk about. She said something about my brother, but I’m not sure if it’s details about his death or my”—I swallow hard—“memories.”
I think I already know for sure, though. Lila warned me the morning after we learned the news of my brother’s death that the police may want my help in solving his murder by remembering what happened those weeks we spent with our captors. They believe if I can remember than maybe I can help identify them.
If that’s what they want me to do… Well, I’m not sure I can handle it. I locked up the memories for a reason.
Dying flesh.
Ruptured heart.
Scars searing.
Flaming soul.
The touch of death
burns through my skin
and strikes at my bones.
Resuscitated and revived,
but not without sacrifice.
Close up my mind.
Forget what I saw.
What I heard.
What was done to me.
Remember and give up my soul.
Remember and submit to the pain.
Remember and wither away
into nothing.
Chapter 3
Lyric
It’s been two days since I saw the strange man hanging out in front of Ayden’s house, and I’ve been working on a drawing of the guy just in case it’s needed. I don’t know why, but I have the strangest feeling that the man was more than a just a neighbor passing by.
I’ve been having trouble sleeping the last couple of nights because of the man. Every time I close my eyes, I see him in the tracksuit with his dog. The twisted part is that his outfit sometimes transforms into a cloak and the dog shifts into a scythe, and I’m suddenly staring at the Grim Reaper.
No more horror movies for me for a while.
I debate whether or not to tell Ayden about my dream. In the past, he’d have found it amusing, but with everything going on, I doubt he would anymore. He still hasn’t spoken to the police, nor does he know when he’s going to, only that it’ll be someday this week.
My family and all the Gregorys get together every year to decorate the tree. After we’re done, we’ll all go over to my house and do the same thing. It’s a strange little tradition that started during my first Christmas ever. Back then, though, Uncle Ethan and Aunt Lila hadn’t adopted any children yet.
The massive tree Ayden and I picked out sits in the center of the Gregory’s living room, trimmed and decorated with shiny silver and red balls that glimmer against the glow of the flames burning in the fireplace. Our parents are drinking eggnog in the kitchen and have already exceeded the tipsy point. Kale is eating popcorn and watching a Christmas movie while Fiona and Everson fight over who gets to put the star on the tree. Ayden and I sit in front of the computer doing a little research on his brother, ignoring the commotion going on.
He’d been so reluctant to even speak his brother’s name that I was honestly surprised when he brought out the computer and said he wanted to look up stuff on him. But I wasn’t about to ask him, too concerned I’d hit a nerve.
“I still don’t get why we’re looking this stuff up.” I skim read the paragraph on the computer screen. “Everything we’ve found out about your brother’s case online is the same stuff the police have told you, right?”
“Yeah, but it seems like there’s something else,” Ayden mumbles, clicking the mouse on the Page Back arrow. “Like why would he even go so close to the house in the first place. It doesn’t make any sense. Either he had to be kidnapped or his body was placed there for a reason.” His voice cracks and he quickly clears it.
“Maybe he was just there revisiting his past… Did he have amnesia like you?” I rest my chin on his shoulder then immediately regret it when his muscles constrict.
“Not that I know of.” Ayden taps a few keys. “But I didn’t really see him after we were taken out of the house. We went straight to the hospital and placed in the system not too long after.”
“Everything okay?” Lyric asks.
I concentrate on the song list again. “Yeah, of course.”
She watches me instead of the road. “Who was that text from?”
“Lila. She just wanted to let me know she needs to talk to me about some stuff when I get home.”
“Are you sure that’s all she wanted?”
I nod, unable to look her in the eyes, knowing she’ll see right through my lie.
Liar, liar, alone in the dark,
Hide the truth from your heart.
Lock your soul in a box.
Melt the key.
Set the box on fire.
And burn in into oblivion.
Let the ashes scatter the ground.
And never utter a sound.
Liar, liar, alone in the dark.
Lyric’s chest rises and falls, as if she’s struggling to breathe. “If you don’t want to tell me, then that’s fine. But just say so. Don’t lie to me, please.”
God, I’m the biggest asshole ever. I really am.
“The police want to talk to me.” The words are difficult to say.
Her gaze glides to mine and her grip tightens on the wheel. “When do they want to talk to you? Tonight?”
I shake my head. “I don’t think so, but Lila didn’t say.”
“Are you… Are you going to be okay? I mean, with talking to them.”
“I don’t know,” I admit honestly. “I guess it depends on what they want to talk about. She said something about my brother, but I’m not sure if it’s details about his death or my”—I swallow hard—“memories.”
I think I already know for sure, though. Lila warned me the morning after we learned the news of my brother’s death that the police may want my help in solving his murder by remembering what happened those weeks we spent with our captors. They believe if I can remember than maybe I can help identify them.
If that’s what they want me to do… Well, I’m not sure I can handle it. I locked up the memories for a reason.
Dying flesh.
Ruptured heart.
Scars searing.
Flaming soul.
The touch of death
burns through my skin
and strikes at my bones.
Resuscitated and revived,
but not without sacrifice.
Close up my mind.
Forget what I saw.
What I heard.
What was done to me.
Remember and give up my soul.
Remember and submit to the pain.
Remember and wither away
into nothing.
Chapter 3
Lyric
It’s been two days since I saw the strange man hanging out in front of Ayden’s house, and I’ve been working on a drawing of the guy just in case it’s needed. I don’t know why, but I have the strangest feeling that the man was more than a just a neighbor passing by.
I’ve been having trouble sleeping the last couple of nights because of the man. Every time I close my eyes, I see him in the tracksuit with his dog. The twisted part is that his outfit sometimes transforms into a cloak and the dog shifts into a scythe, and I’m suddenly staring at the Grim Reaper.
No more horror movies for me for a while.
I debate whether or not to tell Ayden about my dream. In the past, he’d have found it amusing, but with everything going on, I doubt he would anymore. He still hasn’t spoken to the police, nor does he know when he’s going to, only that it’ll be someday this week.
My family and all the Gregorys get together every year to decorate the tree. After we’re done, we’ll all go over to my house and do the same thing. It’s a strange little tradition that started during my first Christmas ever. Back then, though, Uncle Ethan and Aunt Lila hadn’t adopted any children yet.
The massive tree Ayden and I picked out sits in the center of the Gregory’s living room, trimmed and decorated with shiny silver and red balls that glimmer against the glow of the flames burning in the fireplace. Our parents are drinking eggnog in the kitchen and have already exceeded the tipsy point. Kale is eating popcorn and watching a Christmas movie while Fiona and Everson fight over who gets to put the star on the tree. Ayden and I sit in front of the computer doing a little research on his brother, ignoring the commotion going on.
He’d been so reluctant to even speak his brother’s name that I was honestly surprised when he brought out the computer and said he wanted to look up stuff on him. But I wasn’t about to ask him, too concerned I’d hit a nerve.
“I still don’t get why we’re looking this stuff up.” I skim read the paragraph on the computer screen. “Everything we’ve found out about your brother’s case online is the same stuff the police have told you, right?”
“Yeah, but it seems like there’s something else,” Ayden mumbles, clicking the mouse on the Page Back arrow. “Like why would he even go so close to the house in the first place. It doesn’t make any sense. Either he had to be kidnapped or his body was placed there for a reason.” His voice cracks and he quickly clears it.
“Maybe he was just there revisiting his past… Did he have amnesia like you?” I rest my chin on his shoulder then immediately regret it when his muscles constrict.
“Not that I know of.” Ayden taps a few keys. “But I didn’t really see him after we were taken out of the house. We went straight to the hospital and placed in the system not too long after.”
