Page 33 of When Day Breaks

"You counted the time while I was under water?" Anger starts to build in my chest, the need to understand why he held me under for so long when clearly, he could see that I was struggling. "How could you have known I was going to even last that long?"

He pauses for a moment, almost as if he's debating on whether or not he wants to visit whatever it is he's planning on saying. But then he proceeds.

"Because if you're anything like me, which I know you are, then I knew you'd make it. But I didn't let you go a second more even though I knew you had it in you."

"You're losing me," I say to him, still not fully comprehending.

Rivian lowers his eyes, takes a deep breath and then holds my gaze with his own.

"That's how long it took beforeIdrowned."

12

retrospect

Rivian

TWENTY-TWO YEARS AGO – July 21st

"Cwiffs, Wivian! Cwiffs!" Troian's tiny voice squeaks up at me as she jumps up and down, her tiny little braids bounce on top of her head in excitement.

"Cllliffs," I correct her, I hold theLsound against the top of my tongue a little longer so she can hear me say it better. I've given up on theRin my name at this point. I know she'll get it eventually. At only three years old she actually talks a lot more than most toddlers her age, but she can never get theLs or theRs right.

My father gives me a glance, shooting daggers at me like I'm not allowed to help Troy correct her pronunciations and eventhough I know he can't stand me, I simply smile at him and follow along as I'm told, leaving the situation alone.

I don't want to go to the cliffs. I don't want to be near the water. It brings me back to memories that I would rather keep locked up and buried away. It hurts too much.

Thank God he's not coming with us or I'd be prepared to do something that would warrant me getting locked up in the basement once more. I'd already been there for three days . . . what's one more?

Natasha grabs the twins' hands and leads the way to the back of the castle where we exit through the glasshouse and find the stairs that lead down the side of the cliffs.

My father said he had important business to handle today so he had asked his maid to take us to the cliffs for a few hours.How fatherly of him.

The four of us reach the bottom of the cement stairs, the steepness of the cliffs getting less and less scary each time I make the descent. The shore soothes its way against the sand line as the water waves gently in the distance; the sun shimmering against the top of the ocean.

It's a sunny summer day. The birds echo their songs in the sky as they hover around the tops of the cliffs. The sound of the ocean waves crashing gently against rock and sand is representable of the sound my mother would play for me on my noise maker when I was four. And the heat of the sun against my skin feels incomparable to that of the cold air in the dark dungeon. It's like heaven. Yet, why do I hate it out here?

I look over to see Troy try to run off into the water as Natasha chases right behind her, both letting out laughter.

"Keep an eye on your little brother," Natasha shouts behind her at me as she disappears with my little sister.

I always listen to what I'm told. Even if it's not something I want to do and even if I'm being given an order by someone Idon't like. But I like Natasha. She always does her best to make every day a little brighter, no matter how dark the days become she is always making sure we are taken care of, and I'm grateful at least the twins have her.

I turn to check on Travois. He's plopped down on his butt, his hands in the sand and his legs out in front of him. He says no words, shows no emotions and looks right up into the sun.

"Travois, you shouldn't do that. Your eyes will burn out their sockets." I tell my brother, obviously overexaggerating the threat, but he doesn't listen anyway. He never does. And maybe I shouldn't mess with him like that, he's just a baby really. But with almost six years between us, I guess I don't really know how to parent a baby.

Their mother is absent, and our father isn't the most cut-out for parental life. At least not that I've noticed. So all they really have is me and Natasha. And maybe their mom if she ever decides to come back.

I turn away and let him do his thing, if he wants to hurt his eyes before he's even big enough to see the world, so be it. There's nothing special out here anyways.

Troy and Natasha splash against the waters, laughing and enjoying the sun. I curl my toes into the sand and do anything other than imagine my last time out here. But it's hard, because the way I see Natasha play with my little sister is the way that my mother played with me, and I miss it.

I miss her.

Natasha is like me . . . a human. Or an Outsider as most people who aren't like me call them. But one day I'll be like them . . . a vampire and I don't know which is worse.

I focus on my toes in the sand. I dig them and, squeezing the tiny grains between my toes and then drag them out, watching the sand move beneath my feet as I do so. I drown out the sound of the ocean, hitting timelessly against the shore. I avoid thesun's rays, not wanting to bask in its glow. I tune out the laughter of my little sister as she splashes in the ocean waves and runs from Natasha.

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