Bury Me - Tara Sivec Page 0,76
and slowly crawl to the edge of the hole while my father’s cries get louder, his wails of grief echoing around the room like the ear-piercing sound of lambs being slaughtered. My heart beats faster and I feel something stirring inside of me. The last piece of the puzzle, it’s right here in front of me, and I have no choice but to grab it. I want to see. I need to see. I ran out into the woods in the middle of a thunderstorm because I knew he would kill me for what I’d done. He chased and he chased and he screamed and he almost did it, too.
“Oh God, Ravenna! My baby! My poor baby!” my father cries from behind me.
My hand presses against the edge of the wood and I slowly push it back, uncovering the hole inch by inch.
“I love you, Ravenna. I love you more than you could possibly imagine, and I’m so sorry. We’ll be together again soon. Wait for me.”
I hear my mother’s words to me the night she killed herself and I didn’t understand why she said we’d be together soon. It made no sense that she wanted me to wait for her in a place that she’d be going to first.
The wood scrapes against the stone floor as I continue moving it out of the way, refusing to look down until the last second, building the anticipation, letting the excitement grow until I’m ready to burst. If I lean forward any more I’ll fall in, so I give the wood one big, hard shove and watch it slide across the floor until it bumps into the wall on the other side of the room.
The hole is wide open now, just a large dark pit with dirt floors and dirt walls where they used to leave men to die. It’s a good place to hide secrets, but I’ve just proven that they never stay buried for long. The truth will always claw its way out, screaming to be heard.
“My name is…”
Sitting back on my knees at the edge of the hole, I hesitate before looking down, keeping my eyes on the wall across from me.
“LOOK, DAMMIT!” my father shrieks from behind me, his voice so shrill that it hurts my ears. “Stop repeating that nonsense and LOOK!”
I won’t let his voice anger me, not this time. I do as he says one last time, following his orders like a good girl, knowing that whatever happens next, it will be the last words he ever says to me.
My eyes move slowly down the wall, across the few feet of stone floor and over the edge of the hole. They move down, down, down, over almost eight decades of packed dirt, dirt that became so hard after the natural spring beneath it continuously filled it with water over the years, whenever there was a hard rain. It’s not hard enough, though, to prevent the scratches and claw marks I can see on the walls from fingernails that clawed so hard into the packed dirt that a few snapped off and are still stuck there.
“My nails are broken. Why is there dirt under them? Why are there scratches and bruises all over my arms? What happened? Why can’t I remember anything?”
“Shhhh, everything will be fine, Ravenna. You had an accident a few days ago, but everything will be fine. Just close your eyes and rest.”
The thunderstorm that night came at the perfect time. My plan included other more painful and gruesome ideas that I first started dreaming about when I was five years old, but this was for the best. It’s not my fault I had the excellent swimming skills and was never afraid of water. It’s almost laughable that something so refreshing and cleansing, and the one thing that could make my pain disappear during sporadic rewards for good behavior over the last thirteen years, became the catalyst for someone else’s pain and misery.
I failed when I was five and they sent me away.
I succeeded at eighteen, only to be chased out into the rain and hit over the head in the hopes that I would die for my sins, resolving them of theirs.
It’s a pity they had to learn the hard way that you can’t kill evil. Not with torture, not with guilt, not with lies…maybe it’s not something anyone can physically stop. Maybe it’s not something that can be bashed with a brick to the head, and it’s definitely not something that