Aveline

Chapter Thirty-Four

"Why do birds fly?" I ask mommy, crawling to sit on top of her lap. She smiles and runs a hand through my long hair.

"Well, my sweet Aveline, they fly because it helps them feel free. It reminds them of all the good things there are. Because when they are miles high in the sky—they can see life from a different perspective."

She adds, "flying is also very cool."

I giggle and nod my head. "I want to fly."

"You will one day. You will fly so high and accomplish great things. I know it," she assures me.

I snuggle closer to her and sigh.

"But your an angel. Daddy calls you angel. Angels are way better."

Mommy doesn't react like I thought she would. She seems sad. And I feel sad because I made her feel sad.

I touch her cheek lightly. "Don't be sad."

She grabs my hand gently. "I'm not, Aveline. I'm just remembering."

"Let me remember too," I tell her.

She smiles softly and nods. "Your father and I used to have a different relationship. We used to be better together. The nick name stuck but the affection didn't."

I frown. That sounds like daddy.

"Your my angel," I tell her proudly. "And it's way better than you being daddy's angel. Because I'm a bird. We can fly together!"

She hugs me tightly and nods. "Of course, my sweet Aveline."

I wake up, sleep threatening to drag me under as soon as I do.

The room is pitch black again. No lights turn on, no food or water is delivered to me. Is she going to let me starve or dehydrate? Both?

I'll dehydrate faster.

With the darkness and my exhaustion—I'm swept under again.

Auntie Keelie left yesterday.

Daddy has been locked inside his office all day today.

And mommy is in the basement. I'm not allowed to go down there. I don't know what happened with Auntie Keelie and daddy.

I heard them yelling in the living room but whenever she's around I'm not allowed to listen to their conversations.

But I overheard them. They were really loud.

Both of them were yelling at each other and Auntie Keelie was really mad. I could tell by the way her voice rose very high.

But daddy never laid a hand on her like he does to mommy.

And then she left.

And I don't think she's coming back ever again. I'm a little sad because she spends time with me sometimes.

But I don't think she likes me very much either. I think I'm more of a burden for her.

I really want to go to mommy right now. But if I do I'll just made daddy more mad.

"Little bird," daddy calls, opening his office door. I look up from my place on the carpet.

"Yes, daddy?" I respond, standing up straight.

"In my office," he orders me.

I nod, waking past him and into his office. I sit on the chair across from his and wait.

"Do you know why Keelie had to leave yesterday?" He questions me. He takes a seat across from me and behind his desk.

I shake my head.

"She won't be coming back," he tells me. "She was out of place and if I could, I would have killed her."

I wonder why he can't kill her.

"She always has secrets," he says. As if he is talking to himself. "You never know what she is holding against you. As soon as her pulse stops, it could set off a series of events that could be dangerous to me and my business."

I keep my mouth shut because I don't think he wants to hear from me. And I don't know what to say.

"You won't turn out like her, right, little bird?"

I shake my head. "Of course not, daddy."

He nods and takes a long drink from his cup.

"That's it," he says. "Leave."

I slide off of the chair and open his door. I look back once—only once—before leaving the room.

And I smile because I must have done everything right in order to not get beat. Or yelled at.

I go back to my place on the rug and wonder what his words mean.

• • •

His words scare me. Slightly.

He could have been placing things in my small brain for me to question and always remember.

But if it's true, that means that Kee has some hidden mysteries about her. Some that won't end well for me.

I tug against my wrists and my ankles but they are very strongly tied down. And I wasn't joking about the rope—it's very uncomfortable.

She can't seriously leave me here in the darkness to starve. How am I supposed to know how much time passed? Between sleeping and complete darkness, it's impossible to know anything.

That's probably what she wants.

I can't believe I am related to such horrible people. What went wrong in the gene pool to make them like this?

And it would be so easy to succumb to that type of horrible.

I won't.

At least not yet.

The lights turn on abruptly and I close my eyes—squinting to get used to the brightness.

The same large man that dragged me in here steps in. He's holding a knife in his hand and closes the door behind him.

I roll my eyes.

Great.

He stalks forward and angles his head to the side.

"I can tell your father didn't do such a good job scarring you, did he?" He asks, crouching down to be eye level with me.

I glare at him and spit.

I spit in his face because that's all I can do.

He lashes out with the knife and cuts me right above my collarbone. I bite my lip to stop from shouting.

Blood drops down my skin and beneath my shirt. He sends another slice to my bare arm.

"Fuck you," I seethe.

He punches me, my head whipping to the side from impact.

I let out a laugh mainly just to piss him off and because it's to hide my gasp of pain. I may also laugh because I can feel myself going crazy.

Hopefully crazy is enough to defeat my aunt.