by D.L. Miles
Chapter 16
Despite my choice to not run, my legs do something very different. The car that is coming towards me begins to slow down, and I realize staying there will do no good. I decide to get away. It’s just like I learned in school; fight or flight. I’ve always been a runner, haven’t I?
I grab my bag and any evidence that I was in the car. If anyone questioned how I had gotten home I will say that Cain was—was bothering me and I demanded he let me out of the car. I walked home after that.
My legs burn, but I keep moving. I will make it home before Dad does, and wash away any blood and dirt the rain does not. As I move I’m sheltered by the trees, ensuring that whoever stops will not see me; not that they would chase after the killer. I wouldn’t.
The trees of Hollow’s Point are ancient pines, towering over me and completely blocking out the sky. It isn’t long before I find I’m running out of them rather than through them, and I’m near my home.
I jump a small black iron fence and pick up my pace. All those years doing laps for Coach is finally paying off, I just wish it were in a better way. My foot catches on a rock, and I tumble into the mud, my head smashing against something hard. Stars blot my vision and I’m dizzy.
Pushing myself off the ground I realize I am bleeding now from a scrape on my temple. It throbs with each pump of my heart. My vision blurs a little more, and I look at the spot where I hit my head.
My eyes instinctively move up as I feel the presence of someone behind me. I want to stand, to do something to protect myself but my legs are too tired. Instead all I manage is a flop onto my side.
I’m blinded by a bright light, the shadowy outline of angel’s wings falling over me. For a moment I truly believe God has sent one of his warriors to strike me down for all I have done. It is what I believe I deserve now.
The light fades away, and the rain begins to slow. Daringly I peek up at the angel, and realize it is a statue. He carries a sword that plunges into a dragon at his feet, and his wings are stretched out wide. The stone doesn’t move to harm me, nor do any of the other statues surrounding me.
I suck in a breath as I realize where I have fallen.
The graveyard.
I look around and see I am sitting in the very graveyard my mother is buried in, and wonder how I can be here. And then I notice it, that distinct emptiness within my body. It’s warming me in the freezing rain, allowing me to think clearly for the first time in fourteen years.
Ithinara is gone. I’m not sure when she left exactly, but she did.
I burst into tears.
I’m alone for the first time in what feels like my entire life, and it is as great as it is terrifying.
Home is warm, but I don’t beat Dad there. His car is in the driveway, and after a quick glance through the living room window I see that he’s already spotted me. He rushes to the front door and I meet him there.
“Willa,” he says, “where have you been? What—what happened?”
I look down at myself, wondering if I’m still covered in Cain’s blood but find only dirt. Dad isn’t talking about that though as he touches the scrape on my temple.
“I tripped,” I lie. “I tried to run home to beat the rain—it went a little wrong.”
Very, very wrong.
“Why didn’t you call me?” he questions. “I could have picked you up.”
He urges me inside and into the bathroom where he wipes away the blood and puts on a bandage. In the bright fluorescent light I still can’t see any of Cain’s blood on me, but it doesn’t make me feel any better. Dad is eyeing me.
“Were you crying?” he asks.
“I’m a wuss that can’t take a fall,” I suggest with a shrug. Ithinara has taught me well in the art of deception. Apparently.
Dad leans over so that we are eye level. “Are you okay?”
I smile. “Dad, I’m fine. I just—boys suck.” Demons suck more.
Dad takes the bait. “Any boy that rejects you is obviously insane.” He wraps me in a heartbreaking hug, and I feel as if I’m about to cry again.
“I know,” I say through a sniffle.
He gives me a squeeze and is first to break off. “Okay, now you take a shower and come downstairs; I’ve already made dinner.”
I do as Dad tells me, and once I’m in dry clothes I make my way to the kitchen. He’s made Mac and Cheese, one of his “specialties”, and has already set it on the table. After a quick look at my PJ’s, he asks, “Do you want to watch TV while we eat?”
“Sure.” Anything to ensure I don’t have to talk, or even think. Thinking is not something I want right now.
We sit on the couch and watch cartoons for an hour. When I’m done eating I begin to wonder if I should call Beth and ask what to do. My phone sits on the kitchen table, too far away from me. I don’t want her to know what I’ve done, because I’m not sure she would forgive me.
I know Delilah will. She understands that Ithinara is the one to blame, and not me. I feel more guilt for thinking that way.
“Time to be adults,” Dad announces as he flips the channel over to the news.
I don’t have time to even groan in protest before I read the breaking news headline that slides across the bottom of the screen.
MURDER DOWN HOLLOW’S WAY, it reads in large red letters. The reporter on the screen is in the rain, beneath a black umbrella. She’s talking to the camera, and being ignored by every officer around her.
But I can see the outline of a car behind her, and it looks just like Cain’s Neon. I swallow audibly but it doesn’t make Dad change the channel.
“Reports are coming in that the victim has only been dead a couple of hours,” the reporter announces, “and that it was, in fact, a homicide. Police have yet to announce if the victim has been identified, but witnesses say that it was a young male. The chief of police says there will be a press conference later tonight. Back to you Carmen!”
The image flashes to a dry studio, two different reporters on screen. I don’t hear what they say and tell Dad I’m feeling tired from running so far. He gives me a kiss on the forehead before letting me leave.
I quickly grab my phone and hide in my room, wrapping my comforter around me as if it were a shield.
Cain is the only one on my mind. The way his eyes rolled up, the way his blood tasted. The way he had kissed me in class, not even a day ago, and the way he always grinned. I bite my lower lip, ready to have a very long cry when my phone beeps.
It’s Beth. She asks, Did you get home all right?
It depends on how one views the word “right”. I don’t know how to reply, my own conscience creeping upon me. Beth will only feel guilty if she knows the truth, and I think it might be better if she doesn’t know. Maybe she’ll believe that someone else out there killed Cain. Even I doubt that.
I call her, ready for the truth.
“Hey, you alive?” she asks.
“Yeah,” I mumble. “Beth—I—”
The doorbell rings before I can confess anything. It scares me so bad I jump from my bed, and almost scream. “I’ll call you back.” I hang up the phone before she can protest.
I put on my plush blue robe and head to the top of the stairs. Dad is already answering the door and telling me to go back to bed, but I want to know who it is. There’s a feeling in my stomach that is hard to recognize. It almost feels like hope.
Dad pulls open the door, but I black out before I can see who it is.
