“On a good day, Boy, mostly. On the bad days, nothing at all. It’s probably easier to torture someone if you don’t think of them as actual people. Even dogs and cats have names. Her other victims had names. But not me.”
Jeremiah made a vague sound then asked, “Is that how you felt? Not human?”
“I felt…” Ever started, a sudden lump forming in his throat. “I don’t want to talk about this.”
“Okay. That’s fine. We don’t have to. But can you tell me why you chose Ever as your name?”
Ever trapped his bottom lip between his teeth. “I don’t really remember,” he lied.
Once more, Jeremiah made a sound that conveyed nothing. But Ever felt like he knew he lied. Which he had. But he was still offended Jeremiah thought he was lying, which was kind of fucked up.
But didn’t he deserve to keep some secrets to himself? He knew why he called himself Ever, he just didn’t want to say. It was too embarrassing.
“Do you remember when you started calling yourself that?”
He shrugged, hugging his legs tighter. “When I learned how to read, I guess.”
“How old were you then?”
“Eleven…twelve, maybe? When she needed me to be able to go out and run errands without her. At first, she would just send me with a list and her debit card, and the corner store would just take the note and pull her items, but as I got older, they became less interested in helping me. So, she taught me to read.”
“What else did she teach you?”
“Only things that would benefit her. She taught me to count. She taught me basic units of measurement because I needed to know how to measure ingredients when I cooked. Everything I learned from her was on a need-to-know basis and there wasn’t much she thought I needed to know.”
“She never taught you to count? To add? Subtract? Nothing?” Jeremiah asked, tone neutral, like he didn’t want Ever to think he was judging him.
Ever’s laugh tasted like bile on his tongue. “I wouldn’t say nothing. She taught me having an opinion got my mouth duct taped shut for days. She taught me burning food got me burned in return. She taught me that breaking things got my fingers broken. She taught me that being in her presence when she was in a bad mood was going to leave me needing a doctor. And she taught me that people who were supposed to help me—like those doctors—were the very same people who abused me. But no, math, history, science, that stuff I had to learn on my own.”
“You seem…angry.”
Was that the word for the hot, tight feeling in his chest? He shrugged, suddenly feeling like if he tried to talk, he might scream or cry instead, and he didn’t want that. She didn’t deserve his tears or his suffering. She’d done enough to him. “Wouldn’t you be?”
“Certainly. But when we started, you said you didn’t feel anything at all. Anger is a feeling.”
Ever didn’t want to be angry. “I just want to be happy,” he said, words thick.
“And are you?” Jeremiah asked.
Tears burned Ever’s eyes. “Am I…?”
“Happy?”
Ever blinked rapidly. “I—” He shook his head. “I don’t really know what happiness is.”
“What emotions do you know?” Jeremiah asked.
If anyone else had asked that, Ever would have thought he was mocking him, but Jeremiah was serious. “Sadness. Fear…”
“Anger.”
Ever swallowed hard then nodded. “Yeah.”
“Anxiety?”
Once more, he nodded.
“How about depression?”
