Bury Me - Tara Sivec Page 0,69
the lock on the basement door suddenly feels like a bad omen, instead of the drunken nonsense of a man slowly losing his mind after the death of my mother. The words repeat on a loop in my head, getting louder and louder, until I have to press my hands against my ears to quiet them.
“Stop, stop, stop,” I chant under my breath as I make myself continue moving down the stairs, the old wood creaking beneath my feet.
I don’t want to hear his voice in my head. He’s a liar and a fool, staying with a woman who probably never wanted him and who lied to him about my paternity. I hate him for pushing me away every time I needed him. I needed him so much, and he threw me away like I meant nothing.
“Get her away from me; I can’t stand to look at her.”
“She’s just like him, Claudia. You can’t pretend anymore. I won’t let her ruin us like Tobias did.”
“Look what she did, Claudia! She’s only five years old, and look what she’s capable of! She has to go; she’ll only get worse.”
“Do whatever you need to do, Dr. Thomas, just don’t bring her anywhere near here again unless you can fix her.”
Words I overheard long ago rush through my mind so swiftly the farther I get to the bottom of the stairs that I can barely make sense of them. Even though I’ve come to terms with my father’s hatred toward me, it still takes my breath away to remember even more proof of that disgust and the realization that it didn’t start recently. He has always hated me. He’s wanted me gone since I was five years old.
“Ravenna, are you okay?” Nolan asked worriedly.
I ignore him, moving faster down the stairs until I’m swallowed by the darkness at the bottom and my feet move off of the wooden steps and onto the cold, basement floor. I reach blindly in front of me until I feel a heavy piece of string, pulling on it until the bare light bulb in the ceiling switches on, lighting up part of the basement.
My skin tingles, not with the cold dampness in the air, but with the need to run to the other end of the basement. Each step I take deeper into this spot beneath the prison makes another brick in the wall of my mind break away and crumble to dust. I remember being five years old and already filled with anger and hatred. I remember feeling like I didn’t belong in this family, and, even at that young age, I can still remember the way they always looked at me—in fear.
Nolan’s hand suddenly slides around my waist and he pulls me back against the front of his body, stopping me from going any farther.
“You don’t have to do this if it’s too upsetting,” he says softly right next to my ear. “I know you feel like all the answers are down here, but maybe we should go back upstairs and do it another time. You’ve had to deal with a lot lately, especially finding out you have a crazy man for a father. I’m just afraid this might be too much for you.”
Wrapping my hand around his wrist that’s pressed against my stomach, my fingernails dig into his skin as I pry his arm away. I keep digging and digging, squeezing and squeezing, even though he’s not resisting me. I want to hurt him for calling Tobias crazy. Who is he to judge a man he only saw through a glass window and never even spoke to? Who is he to have an opinion about a man just because I made the mistake of telling him the things Tobias did that put him in prison? He doesn’t know how hard it is to ignore the need, and he doesn’t know what it’s like to feel dead inside until you finally give in.
I feel something warm and wet beneath my fingers, and I look down to see blood trickling out of the holes my nails are making in Nolan’s skin.
“Ouch!” he suddenly shouts in pain, jerking his arm away from me. “Careful with your nails, Ravenna.”
He says it in a teasing voice with a hint of laughter, probably to make sure he doesn’t do anything to frighten or upset the girl in front of him, who appears to be coming apart at the seams.
Bringing my hand up in front of my face, I stare at the