“How could you do this to me?” Uncle’s tone was too even, calm, and deep. There was a particular pitch to it I had only heard once before when we’d first arrived, and he’d lectured her in his office or library. “Do you understand how much this disappoints me? After everything we’ve worked on.” It set my heart racing.Fuck.Although I’d done it to show her a lesson, I was no longer sure I wanted to teach her anything. I hadn’t thought it through.How can I fix this?The panic didn’t let me think.
Suddenly, I didn’t care what she’d turned out to be anymore or that she’d stopped caring about me,Istill cared about her even if I was angry with her. As long as she wasn’t suffering, nothing else mattered. I was about to walk out of the kitchen to tell him it had been me when a pair of hands touched my shoulders, startling me and pulling me back.
“No.” The cook had a really thick French accent. I looked up at her but still couldn’t stop myself from taking a peek out the door. “Stay here. Not safe,” she added.
What have I done?Regret wrapped itself around my heart and throat, choking me. I was breathing fast through my mouth, with my eyebrows a little wrinkled, quivering.I had once again forgotten to not be angry with her.Mum!
Sounds of slapping accompanied by guttural screams and collapsing furniture filled the house. I couldn’t help it. I ran out of the kitchen through the short halls to find him still punching her. He held her arm while punching her with the other fist. She hung limp from his grasp, but I heard the moan that followed every punch.
No one did anything. No one even bothered looking aghast by the violence. They were too busy getting dressed and talking among themselves about the weather and how they weren’t looking forward to going to work.
She was bleeding so badly I ran and hung from his arm until he somehow pushed me away. “Stop! She didn’t do anything wrong! Stop!” I fell on my butt a few meters back but jumped up and once again held onto his arm like a small rabid monkey.
“I was the one who did it. Ssstooooppp!” I confessed. He was just about to punch her again when I bit into his arm. Her body dropped to the floor, and instead of hitting her, he hit me again and again. The ring he wore crashed against my cheek and loosened a tooth. The pain radiated through my gums straight to my head. The next impact forced the tooth from my mouth. A warm river of copper filled my mouth and trailed out then sprayed when he hit me again.
One hand gripped the collar of my shirt, and the other kept punching. I wailed and screamed with each punch to my eye, nose, and cheek. I tried to cover my face but his fist was like a hammer, heavy and powerful. When it hit my fingers they cracked. The collar tore as I turned, trying to crawl away. Then the tip of his shoe crashed against the sides of my body. In tryingto to find a way to breathe, to withstand the sharp acute pain, I lost count of how many times he kicked me.
“Ricard! Stop! You’re going to kill him!” she screamed at the top of her lungs while trying to pull him away from me. I was sure I was dying, but it was worth it because I had gotten a chance to see her again, my real mum.
Even with the cuts to her cheek, she looked gorgeous.
Mommy, I missed you so much.
For two weeks, we were free. We lay on my bed, locked away. The only people who had access to us? The doctor who had to put stitches on my body and face, and the cook who brought us food. No more parties, no more meetings. The house was empty of him and his demons.
The letter of the day isI.Iis for Insanity.
It’shardtorememberwhen exactly they began talking to me—the spirits Nana told me about. But their voices were so much more noticeable after the beating and after I started having dreams of people entering my bedroom from behind the tapestry. After the beating, I only recalled waking in the middle of the night to countless different male voices whispering random things. They never went away.
Clockwise circle eighty-nine and forty-three back then one,
a raspy deep voice said.
Wake up… Wake up… Wake up…a high-pitched woman’s voice repeated as if she were playing a game.
I groaned at how much they were bothering me, wanting them to stop.
“Hello? Is someone there?” They’d returned to the constant low-pitched whispering among each other. I didn’t understand what they were saying, and they refused to answer me. I’d get up, turn the light on, scan the room, and not see anyone. Not behind the tapestry, in the bathroom, under the bed, or in the hall, but the sound wouldn’t cease. Sometimes, they’d get louder, as if I was nearing them, but they were nowhere to be found. I’d massage my ears, and nothing would change. With all the talking, I hardly got any sleep.
In the morning, inside the bathroom, I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror. It was horrifying how dark and deep the shadows under my eyes had grown. I looked as tired as I felt, as if I were becoming a skeleton. By the time I’d arrive at the solarium in the morning,hewould be gone and Mum would be coming down way past breakfast time.
“Were you partying all night long, Killian?” Her tone held mirth.
Which would normally pull a smile from me because being teased was always better than being ignored, but my mood was horrible from the lack of rest. I did manage to hold my tonguethough. At the same time, even though she was only a few meters away at the arch of the door to the solarium, her voice was so far. With so many people constantly talking, I couldn’t hear her. I winced, bent my ear toward her, and leaned forward a little, bringing myself closer to hear her.
Instead of clarifying her question, she said, “It’s almost lunch time. You should get ready. The instructors will be here shortly.” She walked away, not noticing my struggle to hear her.
The servants brought my breakfast, and I ate alone. It had become the usual.
After falling asleep again in my room, a pounding to the door and calling of my name woke me. “Sir, the instructor is here.”
In my uncomfortable business suit, I rushed, sliding my butt off the high bed to meet the tutors. It was lesson after lesson half of the day. The first instructor was a young bloke. He was nice to me, would throw a joke or two to keep my attention, but the late afternoon lady was this tall old hag who read everything off a book and hit my hands or face with a ruler to wake me when I’d doze off.
Wake up…
Wake up…
Slowly, I opened my tired eyes. After weeks of not sleeping enough, there was a heaviness and soreness to my every muscle. Sometimes, I’d get dizzy.
