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“Wait a minute,” I say as I choke on the cold air. “Are you still sticking to that ‘future father-in-law’ thing?” I swallow hard and moisten my lips, because my mouth is starting to dry out.
“I don't know if you're just naive or pretending. So listen up, Becca! A smart man tells you the truth, regardless of the consequences, an intelligent man, tells you when you are ready for it. I think you're ready to listen to me now, but maybe you're not ready to accept it. However, let me enlighten you. I told you from the beginning what I wanted from you, but I think you were too busy running away from me, which, as you can see, didn't quite work out for you. You didn't think I'd bring you into my house, pay for your mother's hospital bills, who’s dying anyway, and taken all your shit for free like you're a pubescent kid, all for nothing? Nah, Becca! Everything comes with a price, and it’s time to pay for your sins,” he kicks the cigarette that ricochets into the sea and straightens his back.
“I'm almost twenty-one, you animal! I'm a child,” I snap and feel my fingernails dig into my palms, my fists shaking angrily.
“Kid my ass! I don't think you ever thought of yourself that way. You always wanted to be mature, to do things that were beyond you, but you ended up retreating, afraid that daddy would disown you or something.”
“I've never been afraid of what others think of me,” I shrug my shoulders and choose to lie.
“Let me remind you that four years ago, you were sneaking into my room, turning me on every time with your short skirts and cute lacy panties, getting under my skin, in my mind, in my blood,” he adjusts his shirt that is stained with blood. “Who the fuck do you think you're messing with? Remember that earlier you were begging for an orgasm, when you never would have if you weren't so desperate.”
“You blackmailed me into sneaking out and doing all those things I never wanted to do!”
“Was it really like that? Because at times it seemed to me that you were really having fun.”
“Me, having fun with you? Never!” I say back, so unfairly treated, storming to my feet. “I was forced.”
I arch, feeling the pressure in my belly as my legs go weak. Manasseh grabs me by the arm like a rag doll and lifts me effortlessly, looking at me in my pathetic state.
“You liked it, no matter how much you try to deny it, and you kept provoking me. Do I really need to remind you how tonight started? We played a game that you initiated,” Manasseh leans forward slightly, bringing himself to the same level, erasing the already small distance between our faces. “You know I never back down from a challenge. Should I remind you how you crawled at my feet, ready to give me anything, just to keep your secret? You were pathetic, and I felt sorry for you. That's all.”
“You could have forgotten about those fucking photos!” I shout even more angry, not avoiding his dominant aura. I look him straight in the eyes, and he looks at me.
“And pretend like nothing happened? Please, Becca! It’s against my morals,” he says with a pride that disgusts and infuriates me all at the same time.
“We all know you're the most immoral guy in the state.
“Not in the whole state, but maybe in Matlock,” Manasseh grins arrogantly. “I was just a seventeen-year-old kid, extremely bored, going through some tough times. Condemn me! I don't care.”
“Bored? Did you ruin someone's life out of boredom?”
“Not just anyone. You were looking for it, Becca, and you know it too well.”
“I was a child, and you took advantage of my naivety! Manasseh, you all tried to abuse me, I whisper with a bitter taste on my tongue, because I tried so hard to forget this disgusting feeling of guilt, but I couldn't. “You should have been in jail, if I was brave enough at the time, to tell all what you did to the girls in the Hunting Nights of the Crasnics, or at the Last Fire.”
“Easy there! Don't jump to conclusions. Everything was consensual. No one was stupid enough to get into shit that deep. We were terrible kids, but not idiots, Becca. Besides, I wasn't crazy enough to allow this mess. No one would have abused you while I was there.”
“Yeah, that's why you were first in line. I’m pretty sure you came up with the idea!”
“Actually” - Manasseh raises a finger in the air – “that was Samael.”
“I don’t believe you!” I continue to defend Samael, even though the pain in my chest tells me that my subconscious believes Manasseh.
“You do what you want,” he shrugs.
“He's not like you!”
“That's right. I'm not a hypocrite.”
“Shhh!” I refuse to talk about Samael with Manasseh anymore, because this is a dead end. “Your parents are just as guilty as the three of you. It’s them who got us kicked out of town, dad almost lost his job, and our family was torn apart!” I pour it all out, and I hate myself for not having the courage to tell anyone what really happened.
I hid away, and no one found out about what the Crasnics had done to me, as if that night had turned to ashes along with everything that burned, swallowed later by darkness and oblivion, in the Crasnics' Last Fire of Matlock.
Maybe the town people have forgotten, but I can never forget.
I was afraid to reveal what had happened, because I felt guilty. I asked for it, just like Masse said, and I couldn't face my parents if they found out the whole truth.
I wanted to revolt against everyone who labeled me, tired of being just the preacher's daughter, but especially against my parents who bestowed this unwanted status upon me, to the point that I'd rather bear the burden of this secret and bury it with me.
