that maybe she’s telling the truth. Maybe she really would do anything to make things better.
“You can fix it by telling me the truth. Just tell me the truth, for God’s sake!” I shout, unable to keep my anger and frustration in check no matter how kind and loving she is with me.
“I would never lie to you.”
I scoff and shake my head at her. “Of course you would, just like Dad told you to do. Just keep reminding me who I am, and everything will be fine, right? Just keep doing what he says, even if you know something isn’t right, that something is wrong with me. Don’t worry about having a mind of your own; just keep following along like the obedient little sheep you are.”
The smack across my cheek comes quickly and without warning, although I should have expected it. What I don’t expect is the flash of memory that bursts through my mind as soon as I feel the sting of her palm against the side of my face.
“You disrespectful little bitch! How dare you speak to me that way!”
Pressing my hand to my cheek to ease the sting, I glare at her as the anger on her face quickly fades and is replaced by regret.
“Oh my God. Oh Ravenna, I’m so sorry. I’ve never done anything like that before. I’m so sorry,” she pleads as tears pool in her eyes.
Lies.
She stood in front of me once before, in the spare bedroom with the dark blue quilt I prefer and pale blue walls, her face red with fury as she smacked me across the face and called me names. The thunder boomed outside and the rain beat against the window as she stormed out of the room and told me I wasn’t allowed to come out as she slammed the door behind her.
Even with the depressing way she always looks at me and the way she keeps trying to make me into someone I’m clearly not with the braiding of my hair and the pink bedspread, I still had a small glimmer of hope she would be honest with me and stand up for me after the argument I heard her having with my father. Those hopes flew out the window like that stupid, ugly blanket as soon as she smacked me and lied about never doing anything like that before.
“Get. Out.”
I watch the tears fall down her cheeks, and I don’t even care that I’ve made her cry.
“Ravenna, please,” she begs through her tears. “I’m so sorry. I never—”
“GET OUT!” I scream, cutting her off as I point to my door.
She quickly jumps up from my bed and much like my father earlier in the day, backs out of the room with a look of fear on her face.
Good. They should fear me. If they aren’t going to help me, they damn well better be afraid of the day I finally figure everything out. The only thing that shocks me about the exchange with my mother is that she never mentioned what happened with my father. There’s no way she would have just swept that under the rug. It would have been the perfect opportunity for her to remind me how good and sweet I’m supposed to be. As husband and wife, two people who supposedly love each other, shouldn’t my father have told her what I said? Shouldn’t he have been concerned enough about my odd statement about secrets being hidden that he went to her for help, so they could tackle the problem as a team? Not only are they keeping things from me, they’re keeping things from each other.
“My name is Ravenna Duskin. I’m eighteen years old, I live in a prison, and I will find out the truth, even if it destroys everyone around me.”
Chapter 8
“But, sir. We came all the way out here today just to fill in that hole,” Ike complains.
“I said go home and tell the rest of the men their services won’t be needed tonight either,” my father replies firmly.
Keeping my back pressed to the wall right outside the door leading down to the basement, I stay as still as possible, so no one knows I’m there as the two men argue on the stairs below. I came out of my hiding place when I heard voices, and I know I should have stayed where I was, but I had to know what was going on. I had to know what my father would do to try