Page 70 of Ivy's Venom

Then he’s out of the house and I feel like I can breathe once again.

Ivy was triggered by something physical.

I can see it in all her reactions and I don’t know how to make her confide in me. I can’t tell if it’s something that happened recently or an older incident, but Ivy is showing classic signs of PTSD. This isn’t regular depression.

I get home and the house is quiet, Shay and Amelia must be sleeping. I shoot a quick text to my mom and then head up to my room.

Once I’m in bed, I fire off what will be the beginning of my efforts in getting Ivy to open up to me.

Me: When we were younger, Charlotte and I begged Mom for a dog.

Me: After months of bothering her, Mom agreed and we got a puppy. It was from the shelter so we didn’t know what type it was.

Me: But this puppy got BIG. He also had a vicious streak when it came to his food.

Ivy: I remember.

I’m glad she remembers because I’m hoping she can somehow connect to this story and open up to me.

Me: He bit me one day when I was feeding him. I have the scars on my wrist still.

Ivy: I remember Charlotte saying you had to get rid of the dog.

Me: I am still afraid of dogs.

She doesn’t immediately text me back and I hope she realizes what I am trying to get at. That I can see she has a fear of something or someone and I know no one else knows about it, because as much as I’ve talked shit about the Greenes since Charlotte’s death, they really care about their own.

I settle into bed and decide to let her stew, I’ll talk to her again tomorrow. Just as I’m about to fall asleep my phone pings.

I reach over and grab it, anxiously swiping it open to read her message,

Ivy: Once bitten, twice shy.

Sundays are always lazy days for me, but I have a certain brunette with ocean eyes on my mind, and I know I won’t be able to relax until I speak to her.

I’ve come to accept that I have feelings for Ivy, the type that could grow into something more if I let them, and I want to believe that Charlotte would be happy for me.

On my quest to find out about Charlotte in the last few months of her life, I’ve spoken to Amelia, and some of the things she’s told me are brutal. She says Charlotte was extremely moody, anger being the most prevalent mood, and physically violent if triggered.

Amelia showed me a scar on her calf when Charlotte threw a toy at her and it lodged into her skin. She pulled out papers she had kept that Charlotte used to slip under her door.

Ugly whore.

Dyke bitch.

Die lesbian.

All really angry, deep pressed pen strokes into the paper, and nothing like the Charlotte I knew. As much as I want to believe my sister could never do such things, I also see the lasting effects it’s had on Amelia, and I can’t disbelieve her anymore.

She says my dad was sure Charlotte was doing drugs but unsure how he found out. Only that they fought a lot about it and he was worried when she’d go back home to me and Mom. Was she getting drugs from our high school? It’s possible, because that place was teeming with enough drugs to fill all the local pharmacies.

Amelia says she heard him asking her to give him the pills frequently. Which would make the most sense because Charlotte didn’t smoke and was petrified of needles. But then again, what the fuck do I actually know about my sister?

There is someone that would know everything but Ivy is fucking fragile right now and I don’t want her pushed over the edge. I also can’t keep pushing it off too much longer, I want to show Ivy I can help her be relationship material but first, I need to reconcile all the things I didn’t know about Charlotte.

Only when I know the complete truth will I be able to move on and I want to move on with Ivy.

NEIL: Have you done anything harder than weed?

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