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Authors: London Cole
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close to check. It was him, I’m positive.”
A deep sigh escaped my lips. It had been building in my chest for the last few minutes. I didn’t like that he had kept things from me. But then, that made me feel like a hypocrite with the many major secrets I still kept from him, to this day.
“That’s unexpected. You’d think we would’ve heard that he was dead. A trader or someone would have mentioned it. That’s kind of a big deal.”
“Yeah. I would have thought so, too. I didn’t know if I should tell you, until I knew for sure. But it’s been eating me up.”
I’d been finding it hard to believe Drake already about this invisible body thing. Now he wanted to drag my father into it? Someone that I knew for sure we would have heard about being dead – if it were true. He might’ve been psychotic, but he was still my father. Nothing would change that. I wouldn’t wish him dead.
No, the fact remained that Drake was the only one that thought all of these things. The only one that saw the bodies and bones. He even admitted to seeing the same people in town this morning that he had supposedly seen the remains of in the pit. The logic all pointed at him playing some screwed-up joke or having cracked.
“Drake?”
“Mhmm?”
“Did something happen to you in the waste cities?”
His head jerked up, his voice growing hard. “No! What makes you ask that?”
“Settle down, sheesh. I just wanted to know if maybe it was possible you spent too much time in the cities. Maybe were exposed to too much radiation or a toxic agent? It would explain your peculiar behavior, your hallucinations.” As soon as the word left my mouth I wanted to snatch it back.
His voice stayed hard, getting lower and slower. “I don’t think so. So you don’t believe me, huh?”
“It’s not that I don’t believe you. I mean, I don’t, really. I’m trying to, it’s just a little out there, you know?”
Drake turned to face the wall, resting his forehead against it. I saw his arm muscles tense as he fought to control his temper. I wasn’t afraid he’d hit me. Drake never would. But I knew that I had hurt him, and I hurt for hurting him.
“I knew it would be tough for you to believe me. But I thought you would at least try. Maybe give me the benefit of the doubt. Not throw it back in my face like I’m crazy.”
I didn’t say anything for a second, which was obviously a mistake when he pushed away from the wall abruptly and threw open the bathroom door. He stormed out it, not even bothering to close it as he went to his room.
“Drake! Don’t be like that. Please. Don’t be mad,” I begged him, sliding off the counter and ducking my head into the hallway. His door was already closed. Something about seeing his door closed completely, latched, something we rarely bothered to do, was like a twist to the knife in my side that I was already dealing with. With a quiet sob, I went to my room and climbed up on my bed, pulling my knees to my chest and clenching them tightly to me. My shoulders started heaving, salty tears burning paths down my cheeks, mingling with shower water and finding their way to the corners of my mouth where they trickled in like salt to a wound.
Why was he being difficult? I’d been honest with him and look where it’d gotten me. He was acting childish. Overreacting. What gave him the right to be an ass? I was doing my best to give him the benefit of the doubt.
The tears started lessening down my face. I felt a fire building in my chest. Why was I crying? Why was Drake’s behavior getting to me so strongly? I sat up straight. All of my emotions turned to irritation and aggravation. I felt myself getting angry. He had no right.
I decided to do what I do best when I’m angry. Time to steal stuff from someone else’s traps. I suited up, leather shirt, stretchy pants, knives, and of course, my sword. Hmm. On second thought, maybe not the sword. I’m just going to get some meat, after all. I threw
A deep sigh escaped my lips. It had been building in my chest for the last few minutes. I didn’t like that he had kept things from me. But then, that made me feel like a hypocrite with the many major secrets I still kept from him, to this day.
“That’s unexpected. You’d think we would’ve heard that he was dead. A trader or someone would have mentioned it. That’s kind of a big deal.”
“Yeah. I would have thought so, too. I didn’t know if I should tell you, until I knew for sure. But it’s been eating me up.”
I’d been finding it hard to believe Drake already about this invisible body thing. Now he wanted to drag my father into it? Someone that I knew for sure we would have heard about being dead – if it were true. He might’ve been psychotic, but he was still my father. Nothing would change that. I wouldn’t wish him dead.
No, the fact remained that Drake was the only one that thought all of these things. The only one that saw the bodies and bones. He even admitted to seeing the same people in town this morning that he had supposedly seen the remains of in the pit. The logic all pointed at him playing some screwed-up joke or having cracked.
“Drake?”
“Mhmm?”
“Did something happen to you in the waste cities?”
His head jerked up, his voice growing hard. “No! What makes you ask that?”
“Settle down, sheesh. I just wanted to know if maybe it was possible you spent too much time in the cities. Maybe were exposed to too much radiation or a toxic agent? It would explain your peculiar behavior, your hallucinations.” As soon as the word left my mouth I wanted to snatch it back.
His voice stayed hard, getting lower and slower. “I don’t think so. So you don’t believe me, huh?”
“It’s not that I don’t believe you. I mean, I don’t, really. I’m trying to, it’s just a little out there, you know?”
Drake turned to face the wall, resting his forehead against it. I saw his arm muscles tense as he fought to control his temper. I wasn’t afraid he’d hit me. Drake never would. But I knew that I had hurt him, and I hurt for hurting him.
“I knew it would be tough for you to believe me. But I thought you would at least try. Maybe give me the benefit of the doubt. Not throw it back in my face like I’m crazy.”
I didn’t say anything for a second, which was obviously a mistake when he pushed away from the wall abruptly and threw open the bathroom door. He stormed out it, not even bothering to close it as he went to his room.
“Drake! Don’t be like that. Please. Don’t be mad,” I begged him, sliding off the counter and ducking my head into the hallway. His door was already closed. Something about seeing his door closed completely, latched, something we rarely bothered to do, was like a twist to the knife in my side that I was already dealing with. With a quiet sob, I went to my room and climbed up on my bed, pulling my knees to my chest and clenching them tightly to me. My shoulders started heaving, salty tears burning paths down my cheeks, mingling with shower water and finding their way to the corners of my mouth where they trickled in like salt to a wound.
Why was he being difficult? I’d been honest with him and look where it’d gotten me. He was acting childish. Overreacting. What gave him the right to be an ass? I was doing my best to give him the benefit of the doubt.
The tears started lessening down my face. I felt a fire building in my chest. Why was I crying? Why was Drake’s behavior getting to me so strongly? I sat up straight. All of my emotions turned to irritation and aggravation. I felt myself getting angry. He had no right.
I decided to do what I do best when I’m angry. Time to steal stuff from someone else’s traps. I suited up, leather shirt, stretchy pants, knives, and of course, my sword. Hmm. On second thought, maybe not the sword. I’m just going to get some meat, after all. I threw
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