A Season of Firsts

Chapter 30 - An Old Enemy and an Old Friend

Before December 31st

BLAZE

"Good to see you again." Roughly, I turn a bewildered Emma around to face me. I saw her and Cleo walking and just couldn't resist dropping by to catch up with her again.

She blinks. "Blaze? What- I thought, I mean, why are you still here?"

"What if I wanted to stick around, huh?"

Cleo tries to step between us. "Then that is none of our business and not something we want make our business," she says, trying to shove my arms off her sister.

"I didn't ask you, Queen Cleo." I swiftly grab her shoulder and pull her away, while still holding Emma with my right hand.

Cleo lifts her foot and then brings it down on mine, hard. Ouch. Didn't know the little thing could stomp so hard. But not hard enough to make me back off. I give her a hard push and she falls down onto the snow.
I turn back to Emma. She still looks a little blank. She's gone silent and she seems to have turned into a statue, standing so stiffly that I'd be worried, if I cared.

"What's the matter, Em? You didn't expect this? Well, surprise."

Cleo is up again, suddenly, and she pulls something from her back pocket. A phone. "Blaze, if you don't walk away right now, I'm calling the police," she threatens.

"Cleopatra," I tut. "You don't want to get involved in this. Someone could get hurt." I move my hand to Emma's neck and tighten my grip so that she knows what I mean.

Cleo falters, as I expected. "I don't know what you want with Emma, Blaze. What you want with us. You already robbed her of so much."

I scowl at her. "I don't like it when people think they can forget about me and move on."

"She hasn't forgotten!" Cleo cries. "Do you really think she's forgotten?" She points at Emma's unmoving features, her blue eyes not leaving my face, her lips still not uttering a word.

I feel as if a rock has sunk to the bottom of my gut at her words, and I'm not sure why. Or maybe I am. What's the point of all this, really? What's the point of me harassing and tormenting this family? What's the point of my mom dying after a life of pain and suffering? What's the point of having a dad who has always hated me, no matter what I've done to try and change his mind? If there is a point in all of this, I don't see it. I can't find it.
What do I have left? I had a mom who was too busy trying to survive to give me attention, even if I know she did care some for me, deep down inside. I have a dad who acts as if I'm not even alive anymore. Even when he did, he made my existence a living hell. I don't know which is worse.

And I have myself. But if there was something so wrong with me that dad made sure I never forgot it, then I can't be worth much. I can't be worth hanging onto. When I die, no one will write on my gravestone. No one will have anything to say about me. No one will remember who I was. Not that I'd blame them, because I don't even know who I am, not really.

But maybe they will remember me, if I take Emma with me.

Yes. This could work.
I could have this, this one thing.

I have to know that none of them will forget me. I'll make sure of it. The Rayburns could never forget their daughter, their precious angel. And that boy I've seen hanging around town with her, I'm sure he won't. Therefore, they won't be able to discard me from their past, or even from their present, not like everyone else has, not if I can pull this off.

But I know now is not the time. I let go of Emma, and I walk a little distance back from her. Cleo rushes to her side to support her.

"Leave," Emma finally says something, her voice raspy. "Leave. Me. Alone." She pauses between each word and forces them out through gritted teeth.