Whisper of the Woods

•11•

Blake

The disgusting smell of thick cloudy smoke filled my nostrils and billowed around the room. Jace smoked a cigar as he intently read the newspaper.

The TV had been stuck on the same channel for what felt like millenniums, playing the same show that now bored me. The Peoples Court. I laid in a fetal position on the couch trying to silence my weeping, caused by the unceasing pain.

I started to cough due to the smoke that filled my lungs. If I were to move a muscle it would hurt, let alone coughing. I really just wanted to go back to my room, but I couldn't find the strength in myself to pull myself up. Or even ask for permission.

The smoke is really started to get to me now. I remember my health teachers lecturing the class about secondhand smoking. I never really listened because none of my parents smoked. Never did I think I'd have to undergo it.

"C-can I g-go back to my room?" I asked lowly, still shaken up from a few hours ago.

"Go," His eyes still glued to the newspaper. I grimaced as I got up from the couch. I limped out of the room, holding the walls as a lifeline. My mind started to race with ideas of what could be in the other rooms. Maybe he keeps dead bodies in there. Maybe even live bodies.

I closed my door quietly. My mind told me to rest on the bed where I should be, but my feet carried me to the small closet that I've encountered earlier today. Pulling the chain that looms over me, the light flickered before staying on fully.

Distributing my weight on the tips of my toes, I stretched my hand to the shelf and try to feel for the polaroid of Sara. Wincing at the pain that still occupied my body. I frown once my hands come into contact with something filmy.

I slid it against the shelf too fast and it hits the ground with a smack. It's a photo album. The album fell open revealing some of the pictures. Bending down slowly, I placed it in my hands and started from the first page.

A tiny picture falls out the back of the album, random creases are present from crumbling. It's a picture of a young boy with sandy brown hair and blue grayish eyes. Smiling ear to ear with his gummy smile.

Who is this boy?

I turned over the crumbled photo, the black ink read Jace Parker Rivers, 6 yrs old. I couldn't believe what I was read. This couldn't be Jace, he looked too innocent, too cute. I kept reading the badly written cursive over and over. Then again, it's always the cute innocent kids that surprise us the most.

A firm knock on the door sent a shock through my body. I rushed out of the closet and stumble to my bed. I didn't want him to catch me looking at his photos. Jace stood in the doorway with hard expression on his face.

"Dinner's ready. Come eat," He spoke. I kept scolding myself not to get giddy with the thought of actually getting a meal besides a can of tuna.

When I entered the kitchen, an aroma of burnt food hit my senses. I saw two plates of food rested on the wooden table set. The plate contained meatloaf which looked dry, mashed potatoes and peas.

"If you're wondering what that smell is, I burnt the first pan," Jace said. I sat down in the chair, but something caught my eye. There were a pair of initials carved into the leg of the table, A.P. I stared at the markings trying to decipher what it meant. Until Jace's voice jolted my body.

"What are you staring at?" He tried to follow my gaze.

"N-nothing," I answered, looking away. He took a sip of his water, condensation taking its course on the glass.

"Well then eat the food," He ordered.

I stared down at my plate skeptically. Diving my fork into the meatloaf, I popped it into my mouth. The meat lacked flavor, it was dry and bland along with the mashed potatoes. The peas were disgusting mush in my mouth. I tried my hardest not to show my true feelings toward the food.

I watched Jace as he violently poked his fork into his meatloaf, the same stone hard expression worn on his face. I felt like the longer I stared, the more I could see hurt behind all of the hostility. He definitely wasn't the same cute little boy I saw in the photo. I started to remember what he told me earlier.

Sara died of cancer, while my father's career succeeded greatly. I felt bad for him, he was a broken man still trying to deal with the death of his wife. One question still floated around in my mind.

"W-what do I have anything to do with this?" I asked him courageously. He stopped chewing his food.

"What?"

"I wasn't even born yet, when your wife died or when my father started his business, so why'd you take me?" I replied unsteadily, keeping my words seasoned and well said.

"I thought by taking you away from them, they can know how it feels to have someone ripped away from them," He responded. I'm surprised he came right out and said it to be honest.

"Please, let me go. Maybe you can work something out with my dad, I know you lost Sa-"

Jace pounded his fist against the table in anger and I flinched at the sudden action.

"Don't you dare say her name!" He pointed at me.

"Now clean the dishes," He stood up from his chair and threw our plates in the sink. He opened up a cabinet next to the sink and pulled out an orange pill bottle, the white pills clattering around in the bottle.

I saw the white prescription label, but I couldn't quite read it. He took two pills and gulped it down with water.

He's sick. I'm stranded in the middle of the woods with a sick man.

"Blake I'm not going to say it again," His voice was surprisingly calm. I nodded obediently before standing up and walking to the sink. Jace moved to the side of me, locking his eyes on me.

I was uncomfortable under his eyes while I started to remove the remaining food from the plates into the garbage disposal. I stopped abruptly when I spotted a bug with an oval body and tiny legs coming from each side sitting on the side of the sink.

"What?" Jace questioned my action and looked at the bug.

He slaps me upside the head, "So kill it then."

The bug is sent whirling around the sink and eventually down the drain when I splash water on it.

"Hurry up," He stared down at his phone. I speedily lathered and rinsed the dishes thoroughly before using several thin paper towels to dry them.

"Lock up time."

I walk in front of him while I walk to my room. He pushes me violently causing me to stumble. He does so persistently before I get to my room and he locks the door.

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A\N > lol Blake doesn't do bugs. and neither do i 🙋🏽

hope you enjoyed!

Votes/Comments, much appreciated. xx

- kya h. ∞