Hollow

Chapter Twelve - Secrets

"I don't think you're ready yet." The boy protests as I lead the way down the crowded streets, I attempt to hide my hands and face which are still stained with blood.

I search for a place with a bathroom as I walk.

"Will you please just stop and explain something to me, anything at all!" He says grabbing my arm.

I stop suddenly and rip my arm away from his grasp. I could have easily dislocated his shoulder or broken it but I didn't.

"You don't ever grab me." I tell him with the darkest voice I knew, he leans away from me. "The next time you touch me you won't have to worry about finding that girl." I warn, meaning every word that I said.

He doesn't look at me as I stare up at him.

I turn suddenly as I notice a diner with a bathroom sign.

We enter and find an empty booth. "We need to eat." I tell the boy who sits and picks up the menu.

I leave him to read the menu as I go into the bathroom and turn on the tap and squirt liquid soap into my hands. I rub them roughly then rub the soap suds onto my face. The blood runs from my hands and face and into the white basin, I take out the blade and run it under the water.

I begin to think of the first time I had seen this knife and how harmless it had seemed.

"Don't you think it's strange?" Tom asked as we walked along the thin path, wild grass on either side, shrubs and trees sprouting out, most were dead or dying. Not much grew in this part of town, I believe it was why they had decided to put the dead here, either that or the land started to die after they started burying their dead here.

"Not every person who has ever died in this town has been buried here." I answer as I lead the way towards the graveyard.

"But your mother was so well known to everyone I thought, I mean she was married to your father who practically owns this town...don't you think the people would have wanted to go to her funeral or visit her graveyard?" He asks following me. He always asked questions, was always curious.

It used to hurt to think of my mother, she died before I even knew her but it was easier to talk about her with Tom.

"You know my father, he is so possessive and I heard he was even more so of my mother, she was wanted and adored by everyone and he stole her away, made her his. When she died he probably still didn't want anyone to be able to say goodbye, or visit her."

"Well where do you think she is?" He asked as the graveyard came into sight.

Our voices became quiet as we took in the dark sight.

There were so many graves, and so much death. Some were just mounds with a stick poking out of the black earth. Others had small gravestones or crosses with names etched into them.

"The rumour is my father took her body to an abandoned farm her parents had owned when they first came over from France. It is meant to be miles out of town in the middle of nowhere. He buried her there so only he would know where she was." I whisper as I scan the graves. I shiver as Tom takes my hand.

"Are you sure you have checked every grave?" He asks softly.

"Yes. I thought I had found her when I first searched this grave when I was fifteen. I found a grave with our family name written on it. There is no date or first name." I say staring at the grave buried in the corner.

"Where is it?" he asks moving towards the yard.

I lead the way carefully. We make our way to the very back of the yard, there are trees surrounding the yard like a fence, tall and old they look as though they have been here forever and will remain for years more.