I smile softly as she puckers her lips before I slide the cigarette back in her mouth.
“Wendys?” I give her puppy dog eyes and I'm sure she’s sick of it by now but I've grown an addiction.
“I won't be long.” She has barely left the house recently and I desperately want to go with her, but I know I can’t. It’s not just me involved now, it’s her too, and being found equals her going to prison. I don’t think I could live with myself if she ended up behind barsagain. I know morally she deserves it, but maybe now I'm the one being selfish. If she hadn't taken my parents with her, I could completely look past the other people she’s taken for good reason. But my parents are different… My father not so much. But it’s still taken me five months to come to terms with my mom’s death and I still quietly cry at night when she thinks I'm asleep.
She puts her boots and jacket on and it doesn't take long for her to disappear out the driveway, leaving me sitting here looking around for things to do. I find my feet as I jump off the island and run to the garage. This is the first time I've been alone since she took my virginity, but a lot has changed since then. Maybe now she will confess to me what exactly she is hiding. Because for some reason, deep down I am still trying to find reasons to hate her, to feel like my guilt is meaningful.She can’t be thisperfect.Or as perfect as a serial killer could be anyway. When do you ever hear about a hostage becoming their kidnappers' side piece?Never.
I tip toe towards the locked door of secrets and lock pick it. I’ve gotten quite good at that.
The door slowly creeks open, revealing a creepy wooden staircase and a pit of darkness. I would never go down into our basement because I am absolutely terrified of them. I stand there for a moment debating whether I should face my demons, but I've been facing them for five months. Nothing scares me at this point, so I take my first step, the wood creeks underneath my foot as I make my way down the steep stairs. I wonder how anyone walks down there without falling, whilst I scramble to find a switch on the wall.
The room becomes a timid glow of orange light and a single light bulb hangs from a cord in the centre of the ceiling where a punching bag is hanging in the middle of a fairly large open space. Some cardboard boxes scatter the back wall and a worktop cluttered with junk and a boombox are collecting dust. She hasn’t been down here for ages from what I can recall, maybe I really am just being paranoid. I don’t know what I was expecting but this is pretty normal. Why is she so afraid of me finding out about her man cave? I reach the ground floor, taking a closer look. Even down here, desolate and unused her smell still wafts underneath my nose. A door catches my attention as I continue to snoop in the furthest corner of the room. There is a passageway and a door sits barricaded shut with wooden planks and the fattest nails I've ever seen. Whatever she doesn’t want me to find?
I think I’ve just found it.
C H A P T E R 44
THE DEVILS LAIR
Puppet
Play - ‘Hate Myself - NF’
Imove closer to the door, touching the wood, tracing my fingers over the bolts, studying the way it’s been cut off from the rest of the house and I'm so lost. What the hell could she possibly be hiding that is so terrible? She hasn’t killed for weeks?right?
My breath is taken from my lungs when a hand smothers my mouth.Her hand. I can smell her as she wraps her arms around my waist consumed by the waft of ash and leather, dragging me back upstairs as I thrash around trying to escape her hold and I don’t know why I bother. It’s useless. I can feel it through her grip that she’s angry as she yanks me with no remorse. A lump forms in my throat as she hoists me up the steps, kicking my feet against the wood yelping as I hit my Achilles heel.Fuck!I’m pulled out the door with my feet dragging across the floor as she slams the door shut so loud my heart jumps into my mouth, throwing me against it by my throat and I freeze. She has never laid her hands on me this way. I can feel her aggression through her fingers as she squeezes with malice, visibly shaking as she glares at me with fury.
“Ouch! You’re hurting me!” I stutter through depleting oxygen, clawing at her arm to let go and she doesn’t have to say anything, her face tells me what she’s thinking.Good.
“What did you expect to find, huh?! Dead bodies? A jar of organs! A memorial of all the people I've killed!?” She lets go reluctantly, smashing the palms of her hands against the door either side of my head so volatile that the wall shakes. I rub my sore throat, glaring at her with betrayal, but I can't be angry. We betrayed one anotheragain. I should never have gone down there. I didn’t realise how angry this would make her.
“I was finding reasons to hate you…” She flares her nostrils, exhaling deeply with frustration and her hand crashes against my cheek leaving a familiar sting that makes my eyes water, holding my harm as I glare at the floor in disbelief.
“Do you hate me now!?” She spits venom as she pinches my chin, making me take in her anger.
“Fuck you!...” I’m hurt. And I know I shouldn't be. I caused this, but she left me no choice. She said no more secrets and she is still hiding things from me.
“I could give you plenty of reasons to fucking HATE MEAlora!” She’s right. She could. But I don’t want to believe she is a saint. I want to find something, anythingthat tells me I am wrong, that she is amonster. That all of this is delusional. That she is far worse than I can see so I can stop trying to fix her. Stop seeing the good I see in her.
“What are you so afraid of! What is so bad that you have to hide from me!” I challenge her, pushing my face into her personal space.
“Stop. Fucking. PUSHING!” I've never seen her this angry.It's frightening. She’s like a fuse about to blow.
“What could you possibly be scared of?! What are you not telling me?!” My back slams against the wood as she tunnels me, pinning me to the door with her eyes.
“If I told you, you would never fucking look at me the same again. Leave it the hell alone!” I bite my tongue out of frustration. That is the problem! I need to know what kind of person I'm sleeping with!
“How can I see you any differently if you don’t tell me?!” She frowns with hurt. She always wants to paint herself as a monster, but my words visibly hurt her. Deep down, she doesn’t want me to see that in her. She wants me to see the little girl who desperately wantssaving.I see her.
“You see me for what I fucking amAlora,aMonster. There is nothing more to it! It’s how it should be!” I snap, striking her across the cheek and my stomach drops. Her face shoots to the side and she rolls it out with her jaw, licking the inside of her cheek as she side glances at me with annoyance, her tongue running along her teeth as her eyes meet mine once more full of pent up rage she’s desperately trying to resist. I can see it brewing in the storm behind her eyes.
“I don’t believe you!” Tears finally fall. We haven't argued like this for so long. We were finally getting somewhere. We were finally learning one another.This is infuriating.My fingers find her abuse in the dark, stretching my tendrils over the trauma in her face, the wreckage that is her hollow cheek as I fight back guilt and suppress tears I don’t have the privilege of streaming, for damage that was out of my control. I’m pining for answers beneath her skin like braille as I sink into the darkness behind her tired eyes. Wondering what kind of monster would sabotage his own flesh and blood with more flesh and blood.
“You should be afraid of me.” She echoes against defeated sighs, like her hauntingly beautiful appearance should scare me away as she digs for signs of fear that I will not give her, visible distress falling from her eyes as I tend to her harm like my touch could cure the years of pain etched into her added smile.“Why? Why aren’t you afraid of me?” How can I be afraid of someonewho's barely understood what it is to be loved? The most terrifying thing about her is her vulnerability towards a glimmer of peace. She seeks to destroy it like a spider to a fly caught in its web.Deliberate. Calculated. Doomed.
“I- I…Don’t know-”I whisper so quietly through a shaky breath, unsure in myself why being in her arms has never felt safer. Even now, when her aggression is her only prominent emotion and her sweaty palms find my face in the chaos, gripping the hair behind my ear as she pins my body with hers, breathing deeply, cradling my cries. An apology without words.
“I’m bad for youAlora…I’mbroken. Do you hear me? Don’t do this to me. Don’t make me show you howbrokenI am. Don’t make me open that door.It will kill us both.”I sob harder, gripping her shirt with so much internal rage.“Why are you doing this to me?”