The McKay Boys

18| toska•

"It hurts to love you, but I still love you. It's just the way I feel."

Chapter Theme Song: '13 Beaches' by Lana Del Rey.

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Amelia

One of the things Papa loved the most about me was my ability to bounce right back after a bad experience. He would call me his 'strong girl,' his 'immune girl,' because whenever I was sick, I would still be playing with Adam through the shivers and coughs—constructing blocks of houses we would never come to own or playing adult roles that we would never see each other live out. But I knew at that point in time that if my father could see the person I had become, he would have thought twice about using those labels to describe me.

I didn't think I was the strongest of persons, which was why I broke down the way that I did that night. And I certainly was not immune, for I could fall victim to physical, social, and mental illnesses. They could cripple me, they could tear me down to the point that I was no longer able to stand upright. But I couldn't stay in bed despite how bad I had felt. Staying in the four walls of The McKay's house would've only made me sicker.

The noises around me were a raucous combination that I had grown to hate very fast, but on that morning, they were a lot better than staying in bed. Boys and girls arrayed in one set colour theme, looking so much different from each other, from me, rather, throwing words around the classroom, yelling on top of each other. It annoyed me—that boy laughing squeakily, that girl tapping her shoes, that bloke chewing his gum noisily. They all annoyed me, but they weren't as annoying as staying home.

Mr. Kai had insisted that I did, though, but I told him I was fine. I really was, except that I kept seeing Jacob every now and then. He'd show up out of nowhere, smirking and mouthing: you're going to hell, and I'd twitch an eye or rub my finger just so he'd leave.

There was a heavy dose of added guilt residing in me, since after Mr. Kai ran into my room without his stick that night, his disabled leg had gotten worse. He would groan whenever he put pressure on it, and earlier that morning while I got ready for school, his physician had come by to check up on it.

I heard him groaning and grunting and even caught a glimpse of his clenched teeth and pulping temples before Meredith strode over in her red nightgown and slammed the room door in my face. Blaming me again, I could discern.

I felt bad that I was the cause of it, but there was no place in my mind to pine over it just yet. I first needed to know who had killed that man on my behalf, and though I was still mentally and physically exhausted, it was a code I was eager to crack.

I had been watching Kanan all morning that day. The scrape on his hand had seemed too fresh and I didn't see how or where he could have hurt himself in the space of a few hours. Maybe he worked at the barn? Maybe he was peeling an apple and sliced himself? There were factors, but when it came to Kanan I found it was better to think of the worst-case scenario. He wasn't merciful, it was something I knew all too well.

I also knew the boys, Kanan especially, were the type to watch me discreetly. This man came out of nowhere at the right time, so it had to be someone who knew exactly where I was. I was going to find him for sure.

"Hey, hey, have you heard about the dead boy they found on the train track up north?"

I glanced over my shoulders at the skinny boy sitting on top of his desk, ketchup dripping from his fingers as he stuffed some fries in his mouth. Murder. The talk of murder was everywhere. Even at school.

"Yeah, I heard a lot of people are dying around the area recently." A girl cringed, her glossy lips twisting in fear.

"My take is that we have a fuckin' serial killer on the run." The boy swiped his mouth with the back of his hand and extended his fingers towards the girl, making scary, googly eyes. "And you're next, Lizbeth."