Revenge Turned Sweet

Chapter 48: Shattered

My eyes roam my bedroom, swiping across every inch of every surface. Committing everything to memory. The slight dust accumulating on the dresser, the half-full laundry basket, and the empty water bottle on the nightstand. Everything has its own place. Everything is situated. I have to remember if one detail is out of place. I need to remember. My head tilts, my eyes narrowing as they land upon the locket sitting on top of the dresser. I almost become hypnotized by the pictures, the ghosts staring back at me, smiling.

My eyes snap back to the nightstand when the bottle falls to the ground. The sound wasn't loud. Although, in the silence encompassing us, it seemed like a meteor had fallen through the ceiling. "Вы уверены, что они не разместили здесь никаких подслушивающих устройств? Микрофоны? Что-либо?" He asks, and I glare at him upon looking up from the bottle on the ground.
**"You're sure they didn't place any listening devices in here? Microphones? Anything?"**

I shrug. "Вы нашли что-нибудь?" I ask, an almost passive-aggressive tone lacing my voice, making him widen his eyes at me. I grit my teeth as if from fear.
**"Did you find anything?"**

"Нет," he responds, and I nod my head a bit.
**"No,"**

I look around the room again, avoiding his eyes as much as I possibly can. "Тогда нет. Здесь ничего нет." My answer is short and simple, surely it will take his attention away from the attitude in my previous response.
**"Then, no. There's nothing in here."**

He lets out a relieved sigh as I watch him stand from his crouched position. He places the empty bottle back in its place on the nightstand, just as it was before. I find myself wondering why he needed me for this. He could have just put me into a deep sleep and dug around the room by himself.

"Отлично," he says with an awkward smile, knowing how odd the situation is. "Я проверю ванную. Если все ясно, мы закончили на ночь."
**"Fine," ... "I will check the bathroom. If it is clear, we are done for the night."**

I nod at him and break my eyes away from his. This is the second time I've seen my father since I thought he'd been dead this entire time. Little did I know that he was using me as a personal weapon. Or on a vendetta to destroy me. However, I'll never know which because I cannot look into his mind. He's the only person I can't seem to get through to. The door to the bathroom is not closed but opened just a tiny bit. He won't be able to see me. I hear him ruffling through the drawers. He's distracted.

I have time.

I backtrack toward the dresser, keeping my steps as light as possible and memorizing where I was when he went into the bathroom. The exact position I was standing in, the same place my feet were. He can't know that a sliver of my mind is still there. The system failed just a bit on this night. I don't know why and I don't know how. All I know is I still have a fraction of my mind left and I intend to use it. I have to find a way to make myself remember these things.

The guilt goes away when he comes, the guilt of my family dying, the guilt of loving the man who killed them. But the guilt is slipping through the broken cracks of my mind and reminding me of everything I should be regretting. Reminding me of the I should be hiding under the covers until the world ends type of guilt.

I let out a small breath when my heel hits the back of the dresser. I turn around quickly, making sure the noises in the bathroom continue before I open the top drawer. I pull the handle slowly, opening it barely an inch before sticking my hand inside of it. I ruffle through the clothing until I feel something hard to the touch. I pull it through the small opening and unlatch the blade. My fingers reach for the locket and place it flat on the top of the dresser.