Closed Doors

Chapter Two - Secrets and Lies

I arrived home only slightly later than usual and I already knew I was in trouble. Elsah was off somewhere, with some boy, and the mother was busying herself in the kitchen. This house is as it has been the past four years. The carpet was light, the walls were white, the couches were red. Everything was dramatic, over the top, immaculately clean, surreptitiously perfect. I hated it. The straight lines, the planned layout. There was no room for mistakes, no art in it’s creation. Nothing unique, nothing beautiful, everything boxed and lined and perfected. It was sickening, it made me feel claustrophobic.

“Sawyer?” she shouted, her voice a cutting drone “where the hell have you been?” she took a drag from her cigarette and surveyed me over the top of her red glasses.

 “Sorry Elizma, I had an assi-” I was cut short by a slap across the face. This was to be expected, although slightly earlier than usual. I discreetly glanced at the clock. 1535. A new record. A hysterical giggle threatened to burst from my throat but I forced it down.

She gripped my chin with her long finger, her red nails digging into my skin until I could feel it break. “Don’t lie to me, you bitch.” she snarled in my face. Her breath smelled like stale cigarettes and red wine, just like always. “Don’t forget what we did for you. We took your sorry little ass under our roof when your mother got herself killed!”

“Don’t talk to me about my mother!” I screamed “You didn’t know her, you didn’t care for her!”

“She was my sister! I knew her better than you did, you rat. And don’t even get me started on your father, the low conniving scum of the earth, always talking and sniffling”

I’d had enough. With a low growl I fisted my hand but she just kept talking and I don’t know what happened but the next thing I knew her nose was bleeding and my knuckles were bruised.

The father came home later that night. I was in my room, drawing. He stormed in and began. By the time he was satisfied, I was bruised, my right arm felt like it had been snapped, my ribs hurt when I breathed and I had another cut to the growing collection on my side.

I didn’t sleep well. My window panes rattled in their frames, like caged animals caught in a storm, frightened, alone and stubborn. I saw myself in them.I didn’t eat the next morning. There was no reason to. I only had to get out. I wandered aimlessly through the streets in the general direction of school, not having made up my mind whether I planned on reaching it or not. By muscles strained against movement, my skin felt stretched and uncomfortable, like I had shifted in it and it no longer fit. I was vaguely aware that I had changed direction, and was heading to the bus stop. I got on the first bus that came, and got off when I felt I was far enough away. I considered just staying there, stealing money off the old man with the green coat, drinking coffee in the diner with the cracked window that was finally free, falling in love with the cute boy that was playing guitar on the street corner.

Wait. Cute boy. Brown hair. Greenish eyes. Skinny frame. I ducked my head and ran.

About an hour later I had finished my fifth coffee and was about to order my sixth when he slid into the booth next to me.

“So Sawyer. Care to tell me why you look like hell, and are about to have your sixth cup of coffee?”

I made a noncommittal sound under my breath and shrugged, catching the waiter’s attention. She shuffled over to me, slowly.

“Another, my dear?” she asked kindly.

“Yes please,” I replied, trying to be polite

“And for your friend?”

“I’ll just have a coffee, black, no sugar.” he replied

“A bit like your soul” I muttered

He laughed. “No, babe, I sold my soul a couple years back. Brilliant investment, I’ll tell you, never really needed it.”

I laughed despite myself “I’ll keep that in mind next time I have a soul to spare.”

The waitress seemed pleased with our banter and turned to make our coffee. She came back not long after, with a slice of apple pie for each of us.

“You haven’t eaten all day.” she explained when I looked at her questioningly. I smiled my gratitude and she understood, shuffling away again.

“I think you owe me an explanation.” I heard from next to me. I frowned.

"I don’t owe you anything.”

His fingers met the bottom of my chin, tilting my face up. I winced when his fingertips ran over the cuts on my chin. He looked concerned when he noticed them.

“Okay then, Sawyer, I am asking you. Politely. Please tell me what happened?”

“It’s a long story.”

“We have time.”

“Not enough. Never enough time.” Surprised, I wiped at the tears on my cheeks.

He looks quizzically at me and then he begins talking, his words dissipating into the still air around us. I have to strain to hear him. He talks of his childhood, how he and his brother would annoy each other, about the apples they picked in their orchard. I see it, in my mind, little Cason and his brother running hand in hand, laughing and shouting. I almost smile.

“He died last year.” Cason said suddenly, and I felt the breath get knocked out of me. And he looked so sad, utterly heartbroken. I gently wound my arms around his waist, leaning my head on his shoulder. I don’t say that I’m sorry, or that it’s okay, because it isn’t.

“Your turn, babe.” his voice sounds strained and husky, like he’s fighting back tears. I take a deep breath and start talking.  

A/N Third update tonight, weow. I'm enjoying it :)) Okay lovelies, bit of a cliffhanger, try not to hate me, I know it's hard ;). Vote, comment, spread the word, just the usual. Thank you!!!!!

Love,

LW