“You will tell me.” I smack the bat against my hand. “I will not. Ask. Again.” His laughter quickly turns to panic. His words start to pour from his lips.
It begins like a stutter, then a bout of diarrhea from the mouth. “It was a... please no... Are you going to kill me?” I look down my nose at him—the tip of the bat pressed hard into his bony chest.
“Christy,” the state of her voice grinds like a key stroking against the lock that hinders my demons. Their bonds loosening with every falter of her speech. “Chri-” She falls quiet, my sugar... my drug—issilent.
Evelyn
The pain shot through my body like poorly done acupuncture. Spreading, stabbing, like venom crawling through my veins. He is drifting further away from me. I reach for him… for Christian.
The ground?
How did I get to the ground?
My hands come into view, and I am distracted by my fingers as they distort and elongate before my eyes. Crying out his name, fighting. “Christian!” His name is sweet like caramel on my tongue… sticky and hot.
Why isn’t he listening to me?
I’ve been screaming for him, I don’t know howlong—time feels irrelevant.
The colors around me begin to sing. As they grow brighter and more vivid, their songs reach octaves that put tinnitus to shame. The ringing in my ears and vibration in my skull—caused by the many voices that all speak at once—morph together until the words become an incoherent rambling.
Churning in my stomach aids the sudden onset of dizziness. While the crawlingunder my skin... the tingling… makes it feel like it's moving molecule by molecule, barely holding the door shut from the nausea that’s been rapping at it like the police with suspicion of foul play. My chest and throat start to burn with the acidic intrusion of vomit and stomach bile while the feeling of my airway closing triggers an all too familiar sensation.
Sweating, panting, struggling, drowning, freezing… free.
Christian
One glance in her direction, her eyes have closed, and her breathing is shallow. It takes every fiber of my being not to run to her and hold her, to kiss away her pain. To be there when she comes to and tell her, “Everything will be alright”. My eyes burn with the lashings my tears are giving, threatening to pour out. Her pain. I can feel it.
How did I let this happen?
Where did he come from?
I stand there staring at her, lost in the guilt of my failure. It's only when the pleas slowly, meticulously, fade to a chuckle, soft at first, then steadily transcending into a vile fit of laughter.
It was that moment my demons laughed back, “You dare laugh in my presence after what you did?” Still facing Evelyn, I raise my head to the sky silently apologizing to God for the ultimate sin I am about to commit. The shackles that thwart my past ghosts in theshadows of my soul,shatter—the behemoth has beenunleashed. I take a long-drawn-out turn back to the miscreant that caused her suffering, and with the most sinister tone, my dybbuk snarls in response, “Now. We. Play.”
Chapter 10
Oliver
"Truebeauty isrevealed in moments of vulnerability."
My Heart stops the moment she does. She stands there perched at the top of the stairs, and instantaneously, I forget how to breathe. The green from her gown is radiant against her ivory skin as she walks down the stairs with such elegance and grace, presenting a bout of confidence I've only seen in her once—when their dad left, that moment made the rest of her life such a challenge. She had to step in, step up and be the strength.
She had to pick her mother up off the floor and keep her sister from slitting her wrists. The thought of rejection was too much for Evelyn to bear. That spoiled brat—Evelyn had always been envious of the connection Emory had with their father. She would always act out in hopes of attention. It didn’t matter what kind. Evelyn often exhibited attention-seeking behavior, which was observed in various aspects of her interactions with others.
She tended to dominate conversations, frequently interrupting others to ensure that the focus remained on her. Evelyn often shared exaggerated stories or personal achievements, seeking validation and admiration from those around her. One would assume her behavior called for constant reassurance and approval, which stemmed from her underlying insecurities.
While her actions would be engaging and entertaining, they can also overshadow the contributions of others. This led to potential frustration boiling down to numerous arguments with Emory and their mother. Evelyn was selfish, always trying to outshine Emory but not this time. Evelyn’s antics would never be enough to divert the attention from the beauty Emory has stepped into, especially in this moment.
She waltzes down the steps like a queen entertaining her people. The intensity of her presence is like a temptress, drawing me closer with every step she takes. Her every movement resonating with an elegance that discredits the history her chaotic bloodline carries in the secrets of past lives. She stops between us with a short, sweet greeting. I can barely hear it over the thumping in my chest. For years, I have walked this earth, but this feeling is new to me.
We stand there, our eyes locked, and an unspoken bond forming a silent agreement that transcends words. The air around us seems to hum with a shared anticipation—the promise of a destiny intertwined. I bow to kiss her hand, and the world narrows to just the two of us. Emotions swirl inside me as they connect with her energy—an intimate dance of souls lost then found again. Her skin is soft, and the air around is staticky as I catch a slight breeze of honeysuckle and vanilla—intoxicating.
I never wantto be free of this scent.
I extend my elbow in hopes she will take it, and with the utmost heart-melting smile, she does. I look back at Niven and smile at her, accompanied by a gentle nod. “You two enjoy and behave yourselves.” With a twinkle of her fingers, she waves goodbye, like she is Angela Lansbury herself, then she prances away as though the bed is about to leave without her.
