Things are going to take a turn for the worst.
Thanksgiving is tomorrow. Thank God. Two more days until we get to leave this place. If Camila wasn't here, I'd want to stay longer.
"Hey, you." Ivy pokes her head into my room. I sit up on the bed, placing my book down on my lap."Bookworm, what's up?"
"It's noon. Why are you still in bed?" She asks as she walks in dressed in a sweater and a pair of sweat pants.
"Not sure." Maybe because I want to avoid Camila at all cost. After last night, I don't even want to see her.
Ivy sits next to me on the bed and stares at me blankly. I'm paranoid for some reason. Does she know about what Camila and I did last night? Or about her dad and the housekeeper? I feel like there's secrets all over this house.
"Something's bothering you. You've been off all week." Her eyes squint at me as if she's trying to figure me out.
I clear my throat and look away from her. It's easier to lie when I'm not looking her in the face. "I'm just so nervous about meeting your family. Especially because more are coming over tomorrow."
Ivy gives me a sympathetic smile and places her hand on my shoulder. I look into her eyes trying my hardest not to vomit the truth.
"It's just my grandmother, my aunt and- and my..uncle." Ivy looks bothered at the mention of her uncle. She places both hands in her lap and fiddles with her wrist bands.
"Why do you say it like that?" I've been with her long enough to know when something is bothering her.
She threads her fingers through the mass of curls in her hair and sighs.
"I-I just-"
"Ivy." Tyler appears in the doorway. "Tyler" Ivy answers.
"Dad says he needs our help cooking the food for tomorrow. Shawn, you might wanna help too," he suggests. I nod before he leaves, his footsteps echoing down the hallway.
"What's wrong?" I turn my attention back to Ivy.
She quickly shakes her head.
"Nothing."
Before I can ask her anything else, she quickly stands from the bed and walks out of the room. What the hell was that about? There's a bad feeling in my gut.
A few minutes later, I make my way downstairs. Everyone is the the kitchen. Camila is sitting at the table making what looks at some kind of pie. We're the first ones to make eye contact. I quickly look away. Tyler and Ivy are standing at a counter peeling vegetables and Mr. Parker is digging the the fridge for something. He sees me and smiles.
"'Bout time you came downstairs. I was staring to think you were dead," Mr. Parker jokes. It's hard to look him in the eye after what I saw last night.
I haven't been asleep since last night. But he doesn't need to know that.
"Nope, I'm here," I smile.
He asks me to help Ivy and Tyler since they can't skin a potato to save their lives. I notice how shaky Ivy's hands are. Tyler seems to notice it to, and gives me a look. I nod and go to ask her what's wrong again but I don't want to draw attention to her. I know she hates that. Instead, I kiss her cheek and she smiles meekly.
Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Camila glaring at me.
Ivy
It's 10pm. Only hours away from tomorrow morning. I don't want to see him. I dread seeing my uncle face after what he did to me. I'm just starting to get better, seeming him will only set me back, I know it. If only my Dad knew.
Shawn is still curious about my scars. I can see it in his eyes. Cutting was my way of coping when I was younger. When my dad found out about my cutting, I lied and said I was being bullied in school. I wish I would've told him the truth. If I had, I wouldn't be carrying this burden on my chest with a dark cloud hanging over my head.
There's a knock on my bathroom door. Odd.
"Yes?" I stare at my reflection in the mirror as I pull my hair into a ponytail.
The locked door knob jiggles. Then, it clicks and slowly begins to turn. It's probably Dad making sure I'm not going having another cutting episode.
I watch from the mirror as Camila enters the bathroom. I quickly whip around, confused. My eyes move from her angry expression to down to the knife in her hand.
My heart begins to thump loudly as she shuts the door behind her and locks it.
"What are you doing with that?" My eyes focus in on the large kitchen knife.
"I don't want to hurt you," she whispers in a terrifyingly shaky voice.
Her hand trembling.
"Why would you-"
"Shut up. Let me finish talking." She moves forward and I take a step backward, my lower back hitting the sink. I swallow a thick lump in my throat. My first instinct is to scream, but I don't risk it.
She moves closer and I hold my breath.
"I don't want to hurt you, but I will if I have to." Then, she does something unexpected. She smiles.
Fear seals my mouth shut.
She takes another step forward. Her face is now inches away from mine. I feel her breath again my cheek and she leans forward to say something into my ear.
The words she whispers in my ear breaks my heart in two and repulses me. I stare at her in shock. This can't be true. No. No. It can't. She pulls away smiling then, she puts the knife to my cheek and let's it stay there. Tears roll down my face.
"Stay out of my way, and you won't get hurt. Got it?"
"Y-Yes."
Her face softens before her brows turn downward again in a bipolar manner.
Fear isn't even a word to describe the feeling in my chest.
"It would be a shame if you went..." she giggles wickedly"..missing
Camila puts the knife back at her side and I whimper. She gives me one last warning look before she leaves. I swipe my cheek and there's blood staining my fingertips.
I fall to the floor a shaking, crying mess. Just when I thought things were starting to getting better, they aren't.
