Page 103 of This I Know
Forget slamming it – I should have known better than to ever open that damn door.
Dammit, Avery,I think to myself, the thoughts racing a million miles an hour.Haven’t you learned anything? What’s it going to take for you to learn to tell the difference between the good guys and the bad guys? It’s not that fucking hard. Cole, bad. Ethan, good. Get it straight, get it straight.
At the thought of his name, Ethan’s face pops into my mind.
Please, Ethan. Can you hear me? I need you to rescue me again, like the first time that was such a miracle. I know it’s asking a lot, but I need another miracle from you. Just one more.
Shit. Two miracles is asking too much, I know. Ethan’s gone.
Cole turns his head. He’s looking for something, although I have no idea what.
I need to take advantage of this moment.
He continues looking, his head to the side, leaving me invisible to him for the shortest of moments. I’ve been saving some of my strength just for an opportunity like this, and now I make my move. I quickly pull my hand out of his unsuspecting grip.
It’s free.
I lift it up toward my head, and our hands enter into a macabre dance, his grasping for mine and mine shooting away with panicked speed.
My hand meets his cheek.
He freezes, all emotion draining from his face. Once he realized what happened, it refills all the more. He takes hold of my hand again. This time I allow it because I have nothing left. That right there was my only possibility of defending myself, and look where it got me. A little slap on the cheek.
He leans back in. “Nothing you did could have kept me out of this house,” he almost growls.
I stare at him, and he stares back.
And that, right there, the second darkest moment of my life, was when I finally realized something profound. I realize that he’s right. He’s actually right. Nothing I did in that moment, or those other moments could have prevented these horrors from happening to me, because I didn’t cause them. It wasn’t my fault. It’s never been my fault.
Still, so this is how I’m going to die. Because with the way he’s treating me right now it seems there’s no other option. This has to be it. I can barely breathe under his weight, and he’s pressing my hands harder and harder against the wood floor in preparation for whatever it is he wants to do. It’s a hurt I can feel down to my bones; it’s a deep ache that makes me want to slap him again.
Then he pauses.
I begin to cry.
He’s still holding me, but he’s no longer yelling and both of our thrashing has stopped. He must have given up on trying to find whatever it was he was looking for.
“Please,” I say through the tears.
He laughs. “Now you’re saying please? What about a few minutes ago, Avie?”
I strain against him again, somehow managing to summon more strength, but it’s strength that’s short lived. “Don’t call me that,” I say.
He doesn’t react. I look up at the ceiling and swallow away the tears. I have no idea what he plans on doing to me, but if I have to be here for it this time, I’m at least going to check out a little. He can do what he wants to my body, but I won’t say the same for my mind. So I keep my gaze up, staring at the whorls of off-white paint on the ceiling, and I think of things that make me happy. I think of my mom and some extended family I haven’t spoken to in a while. And I think of Ethan. I think of the time he helped me after I fell, and the very first sight of that favorite smile of mine. And there, on the floor, thinking of his smile and in spite of everything I now dread about him, I smile.
And then something catches my attention, drawing my eyes away from the ceiling paint. Something is moving in the shadows behind Cole’s body. I strain my eyes and my body as well as I can, but in the relative darkness of the house it’s hard to make out what the movement is. I lift my head as much as possible to get a better view.
Please let something be there.
Something is there.Someoneis there. I see them clearer in the shadows, moving closer from the door to where we are, slowly and without care for what they could be walking into.
It has to be Mara.
In the panic of the moment, I completely forgot she said she was coming. Should I warn her? Should I scream? Should I tell her to leave? Cole’s strong enough for the both of us, and I don’t want her to get hurt, too.
I let out a wail that fills the room, pulling against Cole some more.
The body in the shadows moves faster at the sound. Whoever it is takes only a second to process the scene, then lurches forward. They grab Cole. Their fingers wraps around his shoulders so tightly and with such force, that from where I am I can see them dig through Cole’s shirt and indent into his flesh.
