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“Sorry, Dad. I spilled a bag.” Rushing to chase the few cans, I left everything else by the door. Knocking on it, I wanted Tim to haul them in. “But I am mad for you. If those families ever saw the letters, they’d be thankful someone cared about their child.”
“Yes, well, we can’t predict fear, can we?”
His years of work in psychology made him an expert on human emotions. Knowing he needed my help, I didn’t want to make him feel alone in his endeavors to better our community. “As for the reading group, what day of the week is it?”
Snagging a few cans fast enough, I only hand two that made it down to the landing. He cleared his throat. “Any day that would work for you. Most of our evening things have been canceled, so you let me know if you have time. And I don’t want you doing this for me, Millie. If you’re not interested, I’ll run the shifts myself.”
As if I’d ever tell my dad he was my only reason for helping out. Right now, I ran a few group meetings for at risk youth and did paperwork for domestic situations with women who needed help getting out. The job would never be suited for everyone, but my father prepared me for the hardships. Grabbing the last can, I made my way back up the stairs.
“I run groups a few evenings and have book club on Wednesday, but I can do Monday nights?”
“Thank you, sweetie. I’ll call the staff and arrange for you to start.” With today being Sunday, I knew what he prepared to say next. “Is tomorrow too soon?”
“No, I’ll get there about six.”
“Perfect! And I’ll let you choose your own reading material, but please keep in mind their needs.”
“I’ll call you after to tell you all the details,” I promised, leaning my back against the harsh brick of the building.
After getting off the phone, my eyes took in all the groceries still near the door. Sighing, my body felt so tired after running myself ragged all week. Letting my muscles cool down as I felt my pulse, I knew I’d be more comfortable inside my home. Opening the door, Tim reclined himself on the whole couch to play his video game on the Xbox. Part of me wanted to cry at the mess that greeted me instead of him, but video games were his decompression tactic.
“I knocked for you to come help me,” I started.
“Sorry, babe. Sam messaged to get on, and I haven’t played with him in over a month.” His eyes didn’t even greet me as my shaky hands pulled the bags into our small place.
“A little help would be nice… Like how I asked for your help with cleaning the place up while I got groceries, and then I knocked for you to help bring them in.”
“I’m online, babe. I can’t pause it.”
Knowing the fight would always be the same thing, I handled putting everything away. Whiskers found me when he heard my voice, meowing about how neglected he felt in my absence. Missing one eye, my calico cat walked himself into the wall on his way. Picking him up, I snuggled him tighter to me as we stood in the living room.
“Babe, I need you to move. You’re blocking the screen.” Tim turned his head to see better around me. Most nights, I spent the better of an hour trying to reason with him about helping out more around the house, but I didn’t have it in me tonight. Instead, I wanted to escape too.
“I’m going to go read.” Not that my announcement mattered, but I wanted it to. I wanted him to show interest in quality time. Instead, he gave a sound of hearing me without hearing me as I traveled deeper into our small apartment. Isolation always crept into the marrow of my bones when I came home, but I learned to live with it because the loneliness was mine to carry.
two
Draven
Being forced to participate in these less than mediocre activities would be the worst part of my experience in prison. The fights were fine because no one would ever match up to my level from the years my father spent breaking me. Everyone here wanted the title of being a threat to my life, but they could never hold up to it when I broke whatever body part my hands took hold of. Even the guards built a natural fear to my dominance.
Though, the last guy nailed me in the nose and gave me bruised eyes with a split lip. When he hurt me, I didn’t even feel it because my focus became destroying him. Beating him into a bloody pulp, I would’ve killed him had the guards not gotten to me in time. Luckily, the cameras proved my act was in self-defense. Sadly, they labeled me as a problem and forced me into this new group activity, saying it would be good for my unhealthy nature.
Unhealthy? What made them establish that prosecution about my life? Could it be my father used to beat me himself for me to learn to take the pain others would force on me for bearing his last name? Maybe it came from finding me standing over the man I killed with my bare hands, bloody knuckles revealed and my clothing saturated in his blood. No matter what they said about me or my ‘unhealthy’ life, they’d never understand my reasoning.
Alexander Lombardi raped my little sister and thought he could get away with it. I showed him what I could do without drugging him to do it, and he’d never wake up to see the destruction I havocked against his family. With my actions, I knew my partner would work quickly to finish the rest of the family off and claim their lands for our empire. My mind didn’t care about the business side of ending their legacy. I just wanted justice for my sister.
“This is your room for the next thirty minutes.” My guard halted our movements to open it with his keycard. Still in my cuffs, I walked into a room where a young girl sat at the front of all the chairs. Her blonde tresses reminded me of sunshine under the fluorescent lighting. Petite, her tiny body remained hidden under her yellow petticoat, but I could see how it hung loosely around her frame.
“Catherine Earnshaw, may you not rest as long as I am living. You said I killed you--haunt me then. The murdered do haunt their murderers. I believe--I know that ghosts have wandered the earth. Be with me always--take any form--drive me mad.” Her angelic voice was speaking a later scene from a book I knew all too well.
“Only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you…” I spoke and finished the quote she wanted to read to the prisoners. A lump formed in my throat as she read my mother’s favorite book.
Everyone around the room either slept in their chairs or paid her no interest. Though, she then gave me her undivided attention, looking at me with the largest, innocent brown eyes I had ever seen. Surprise lit her expression, not excepting an inmate to know such a story. Her cheeks flared in red as though she felt embarrassed to be heard, and I felt a small rousing of life in my core from her innocent demeanor. This woman hadn’t been touched by darkness, and she wore bright colors as a symbol of her happiness to bleed it into us. Standing as the only man to be touched by her light, I didn’t waver in our eye contact. My earnest eyes would plead for her to forgive my sins and carry me with her wings.
Giving me a brief smile after realizing we had been staring at each other too long, she didn’t want the pause to be noticed by the others. Though, they couldn’t be bothered or care that we shared a deeply intoxicating moment. I did. A new thrumming could be felt in my pulse because she became the first thing in my own abyss to give me purpose. Usually, I only felt alive while ending someone else’s life.
My guard tried sitting me in the back, being used to our behaviors of boredom, but I changed our footing to be in the front seat. The young woman sat behind a barrier for protection because all these men wouldn’t hesitate to get their grubby hands on her frame. The thought iced my veins, hating anyone would ever harm this woman my late mother clearly sent for me. It was in the soothing ring of her heavenly voice, how the flickered lighting created her halo.
