Page 57 of Jacob Michaels is Dead

I turned on the landing to glower at her.

“No.”

“Don’t you sass me.” She put her hands on her hips and glared up at me.

“It’s my life!” I snapped. “And just like everything else, you’re telling me how to do everything!”

“Robbie,” Oma looked at me through squinty eyes, “this isn’t about gettin’ your driver’s license or a curfew. This is about your damn life.”

“Right.” I nodded firmly down at her. “My life. Not yours. Not Lucas’. Just mine. I can do with it what I like.”

Oma crossed her arms over her breast and cocked an eyebrow at me as she looked up at me standing on the landing.

“You’re plannin’ to do a damn fool thing, is what you’re plannin’.” Oma waggled her head. “You think you understand everything. Just like every other dumbass teenager. Well, you don’t know shit, Robbie.”

“What don’t I know?” I demanded. “I know exactly what this means, and you’re trying to convince me that I don’t understand.”

“You don’t understand, damnit!” She replied sharply. “Your mother and father—”

“Where are mom and dad?” I looked around dramatically. “I think the only people who get to be involved in an argument are the ones here, don’t you?”

“More fuckin’ sass.” She rolled her eyes.

“I’ve made my decision.” I crossed my own arms over my chest.

“You’re goin’ to let yourself get kilt because—for what?” Oma demanded. “What’s that gonna do for any-damn-one?”

“What’s the alternative, Oma? Tell me that. You knew—you knew—this day was coming, and you just stayed silent. The only time you’ve ever stayed silent—”

“Don’t you—”

“—and now I have exactly two choices, and you’re telling me which one to make without even discussing it!” I bellowed. “This isn’t about you. It’s about me, Oma!”

“It’s about everyone!”

“Why’d I have to be born?” I screamed down the stairs at her. “If I hadn’t been born, I wouldn’t have to deal with any of this!”

Oma’s eyes grew wide as a hand went to her chest.

“I wish I didn’t know any of this shit!” I continued. “I wish I wasn’t here! I wish I didn’t know what I know! I wish I didn’t have to look at you! I wish I didn’t have to worry about Lucas! I wish Ernst was safe! I wish I had more time—”

“Shut up, Robbie!” Oma hissed, her foot rising to the first step of the stairs.

My mouth stayed open, but I didn’t say another word. Oma’s hand was on the newel post cap and the other on her chest. She glanced down at the floor fearfully, then up at me desperately.

“Don’t make wishes, Robbie. Not even in your own head,” She pleaded. “You know better.”

“Sorry.” I snapped, but my heart wasn’t in it. “I’m still learning all the rules.”

“You think you’re going to solve all of this with a wish?” She barked.

“It’s better than your plan to feed me to the wolves.” I barked back. “Almost literally!”

“It’s only been eleven years since he was sent away last time, Robbie.” Oma howled at me. “Eleven goddamn years since your daddy put him in the ground. He’s too powerful for you.”

“That’s why I’m not going to face him!” I screamed, the glass panes in the front door shattering.

Oma jumped. I did not.