Ollie Vance - Book One: Secrets and Sparks

Chapter Nine

The wall clock indicated it was nearly two in the morning.

After I had sufficiently vomited my repulsion, I slipped off my blood-soaked and torn dress and washed it  as much as I could in the tub. It was still stained and ripped after I wrung the water out and hung it over a towel rail. Then I took a long, hot bath, standing still under the streaming water as I replayed every memory I had of tonight that I knew was going to be engraved in my mind forever.

They seemed like scenes from an exhilarating thriller movie I just watched—emotionally-involving yet still seemingly removed from my typical reality.

I finally stepped out of the shower and stood in front of the mirror, examining my injuries.

I was surprised to not feel any broken bones but my right cheek was bright red from having been smacked there and a long patch of red ran from my right shoulder down to my hip. My knees were blistered and tender as well from the long crawl through the tunnel. An angry red line was drawn across my ribcage from the nearly falling off of the basement trap door. I had scrapes and small cuts on my arms, legs and face from rolling around the field and running through the weeds and grass. My muscles were tender and my joints ached—they would be unforgiving tomorrow.

Tears lined my eyes but I stubbornly brushed them away.

I was alive—I at least had to be grateful about that. The battle scars were merely reminders that survival hadn’t come easy.

With all my underwear hanging dry along with the dress, I grabbed a fluffy, white terry-cloth robe and wrapped it around my naked body. It had the silvery blue monogram of a scripted M on the chest pocket and it came with matching slippers.

I let my damp hair hang dry on my back as I paced back and forth in the room, anxious to find out what else had happened but I kept telling myself to do exactly as Tristan told me.

I decided to busy myself with cellphone and I was surprised to find a text message from Jesse that said: Another tummy ache? This one felt a little worse than the last one. Hope things are okay.

I briefly wondered why he didn’t call if he was worried about me. Then I realized he knew I became okay because although I wasn’t sure if this was true about all twins, Jesse and I would know if the other died, the same way, I assume, we instinctively know that the other is alive and well.

I typed up my reply to him—just a brief reassurance that things were fine. 

I felt guilty at the whites lies I had gotten comfortable whipping out to people whenever necessary but I felt that I could only do them worse by telling them the truth. After tonight, I decided that no one else was going to get dragged down this dangerous road.

It was too late for me to turn around now and run back—I have seen, heard, learned and done too much. I was fully initiated and walking away was going to be impossible. I couldn’t go on in life pretending none of this ever happened.

Tristan happened, I thought with a long, weary sigh as I stood by the window that overlooked the vast fields on this side the house. There was nothing but darkness all the way to the horizon where a deep indigo sky started its sweep of glittering stars.

Suddenly, there was a soft knock on the door.

I turned just as Tristan stepped in, freshly showered and wearing a pair of jeans and a white shirt. His hair was wet and slicked back, his face clean except for a thin cut just right above his left brow.

“Hey,” I said softly, not sure what there was to say after all that had just happened.

“Hey,” he replied as he slowly closed the door behind him and jammed his hands into his front pockets. He seemed uncertain himself.