Page 30 of Whispers of the Dead

“Good, give it to the dog.”

My soul breaks a bit. “But I’m starving.” Tears I typically keep at bay fall down my cheeks.

“So is Spark. Look at him.”

Spark pops his head out from beneath the coffee table at the mention of his name.

I hate my uncle, but he’s right.

Spark looks more fucked-up than me, by far.

Gathering every ounce of courage I can to overcome the seething sadness and hunger inside, I take the plate I hoped would be mine and place it on the floor.

Spark runs the best he can with his paw, which he hurt last week fighting the neighbor’s cat, and eagerly chows down.

“Could’ve been yours,” Uncle Isaac says.

I’m shaking, but I try to hide it so I don’t cause any more trouble. “I was good today. I did all my work. I cleaned the bathroom as you told me to…”

“But you stood there lookin’ at me like you wanted to kill me before announcin’ you was home, didn’t ya?” His broken Southern accent makes his words sound even harsher. “Go on, admit it.”

I break, sobbing harder. “I did.”

He grins, his rotting teeth gleaming darkly. “I’m gonna get that defiant streak outa ya, girl. If it’s the last thing I do. That brother of mine was too fuckin’ easy on ya. Now, get yer backpack and do your homework before bed. I don’t want to see hide nor hair of ya until the mornin’.”

“Yes, sir,” I manage to grit out, this time without disdain leaking into my tone, which is new for me.

“Curse that fuckin’ man for gettin’ himself killed. Ain’t want no fuckin’ kids. He knew that,” Uncle Isaac mumbles as I walk to my room, careful not to slam the door.

I’d rather not go two nights in a row without dinner. Sitting on the bed, I open my bag and pull out half a sandwich I wrapped from lunch today, just in case I needed it, thankful I’d thought ahead.

SOYEZ SILENCIEUX

SERAPHINE

Hands gripping the sheets, body rigid, I wake with a scream. My breathing is erratic, my skin slick with sweat. Memories I can’t outrun, even with the strongest drinks before bed, plague me some nights.