People say actual craziness isn’t noticeable.
It seeps under the surface and eats at you piece by bloody piece. It creeps up on you like a vampire to blood or a predator to prey.
But I do. I feel it.
I wouldn’t call it craziness, but it’s something abnormal.
It’s what stops me from laughing out of courtesy when everyone else does. They recognise the societal norms; I don’t. Even Knox does. He’s way better at blending in than me, and it’s probably why the therapist liked working with him, but never with me.
I heard her tell Agnus I’m a well. She said there’s a lot of digging that needs to be done, and I’m not allowing her to do that.
I’m an anomaly even with the people who treat crazy, and I’ve always taken pride in that.
I looked in the mirror and liked my scowling face. People react differently to trauma. There are those who lean on their closest family and friends. There are those who fight so they can smile again. And there are those who close in on themselves and eventually spiral out of control.
Then there’s me.
I never spiralled out of control; I didn’t drink, do drugs, or even try weed or smoking. I was always a good girl, but with the worst facial expression.
I didn’t allow myself to smile, and eventually, I didn’t know how to smile. What right did I have to laugh when I never made peace with myself?
What right do I have to exist as if nothing happened?
There’s a girl I left behind, a small child no older than seven who screamed for help and I didn’t hear her — or rather, I couldn’t. That girl, the seven-year-old me, wants retribution.
No — she demands it. And I have to give it to her, even if a sacrifice has to be made.
I walk down the hall to Dad’s office, determination bubbling in my veins.
When Ronan confessed his trauma to me a few days ago, I couldn’t breathe properly.
I still can’t.
Every time I think about him, I have this ball the size of my head clogging my breathing. I can’t stop dreaming about a small child running alone in the streets with no place to go and no one to ask for help.
And then, the face of that child wasn’t Ronan’s. It was mine. It was the girl who stopped smiling because someone confiscated that smile and refused to give it back.
I unlock my phone and stare at the texts he’s sent since that night at the Meet Up.
Ronan: When someone pours their heart out to you, the least you can do is not leave.
Ronan: Aside from the tidbits I told Xan, you’re the first person I’ve told the entire story to. Now, I’m feeling rejected, and I’m tempted to find you and punish you.
Ronan: I wish you trusted me enough to let me see you.
Then his last text came today.
Ronan: Why the fuck do I have no pride when it comes to you?
Probably the same reason I have no walls when it comes to him. After that therapist called me a well, I started to believe it. I started to think no one could understand me or dig deeper into me, and that’s why I strengthened those walls.
Until he came along.
I’ve never felt as open and as in danger as I do with him. I always thought people aside from my family would eventually leave. Not Ronan.
Never Ronan.
He barged in so easily it’s as if the well never existed.
And that can’t go on.
For his sake, not mine.
He’ll eventually hate me, so I might as well do it now rather than later.
I knock on Dad’s office door.
“Come in.” His reply is curt.
I push the door and step inside, inhaling a deep breath. Dad and Agnus are sitting across from each other in the lounge area. Both their jackets are discarded and they have the cuffs of their shirts rolled up. Dad doesn’t have his tie on, but Agnus still does, and he generally looks in a less dishevelled state. They each have their tablets in hand, which means they’re exchanging data.
“Am I interrupting?” I ask.
Dad’s face eases with a smile. “You can never interrupt me. Come here, Teal.”
I sit by his side, in the spot Dad pats.
Agnus starts to stand up. “I’ll be downstairs if you need anything.”
“You don’t have to leave,” I tell him. “I want to talk to you both.”
Agnus settles back down. Now, as I look at him, I realise whatever I felt for him in the past was fleeting. He’s been there for me and Knox our entire lives, and that gratitude has lived with me for as long as I can remember, but that’s it.
That’s all.
The only consuming feelings I’ve ever had are for this boy who can make me laugh when I didn’t even know that I could.
Dad slides the tablet on the table. “Is something wrong?”
“No…well, maybe.”
“Does it have to do with the fact that you skipped school for two days?” Dad asks.
Why did I think he was too busy to notice that? This is Dad. At some point, he felt my pain before I could notice it myself.
“Dad, promise you won’t hate me?”
“That’s off the table — not even if you killed someone.”
Agnus raises a brow. “We can always cover your tracks.”
Dad gives him a look.
“What?” Agnus lifts a shoulder. “I can help her get away with murder.”
“Don’t put ideas into her head…” Dad focuses on me. “This doesn’t have anything to do with murder, right?”
“No.” Yet.
“So what is it about?” Dad asks.
“I know I told you I want to be engaged to Ronan, but can I change my mind?”
“Of course.” Dad doesn’t even miss a beat. “As I said, I would never make you do something you don’t want to.”
I release a long breath, feeling some of the weight vanishing off my chest, only to have it replaced by a different type of weight.
“Why?” Agnus’ quiet voice drifts into the air.
“Why?” I repeat.
“You were so hell-bent on being engaged to that kid, but now you’ve changed your mind. It’s not that I didn’t think you had an ulterior motive, but I doubt it’s only because of the partnership between us and Edric’s company.”
“Agnus.” Dad shakes his head, but it’s more out of resignation than anything else.
“She asked for this, and now she’s ending it.” Agnus’ attention doesn’t waver from me. “This isn’t a children’s game, Teal.”
“I know that.” More than anyone.
“I’ll support you through whatever decision you make.” Dad takes my hand in his, and the warmth touches me deep inside. “But I thought you were getting along with Ronan? Elsa and Knox talk about it all the time, even when you try to quiet them.”
I bite my lower lip. “Dad…have you ever felt like you need to let someone go for their sake?”
Silence fills the office for a second and I almost think he won’t answer, but then he says, “I have. It was Elsa’s mother. I should’ve sent her to a psych ward, for her sake.”
“But he didn’t,” Agnus says in a detached, stone-cold tone. “He didn’t follow his head, and that mistake not only cost him nine years of his life, but also of his children’s lives.”
“Lovely reminder, Agnus.” Dad’s voice is hard with disapproval.
“It wouldn’t have happened if you’d listened to me,” Agnus continues in the same tone, scrolling through his tablet.
“And you won’t let me live it down for a lifetime, will you?” Dad asks.
“Probably not.” Agnus lifts his head and his emotionless eyes trap me in their merciless hold. “If there’s anything you need to learn from him, it’s that you should never follow your heart, Teal. That thing is untrustworthy and will land you in trouble and bring regrets.”
“Don’t listen to him. He’s old and pragmatic, and did I mention he’s been single for life?” Dad brings my attention back to his kind eyes. “I admit I made a mistake with Abigail, but it’s because of her that I have Elsa, you, and Knox. I would never regret that fact.”
I smile at that.
For a long time, I believed Dad only took us in because of guilt, but that was never the case. He could’ve sent us into the system — or even thrown us back out on the streets.
He didn’t.
“Think about it,” Dad continues. “And if you believe your decision is final, I’ll be happy to oblige.”
I nod, even though my decision is already cemented and is screaming loud and clear in my head. “Can I ask something else?”
“Of course.”
“I know Knox and I told you we’d never ask about Mum or where she is, but I think I’m ready. I want to know.”
Dad and Agnus exchange a look before the latter goes back to staring at his tablet.
“What?” I ask.
“Your mother is no more, Teal,” Dad says in a sympathetic tone. “She died that same year you ran away. I was searching for her to have her give up her parental rights when I learnt she died of an overdose.”
Oh.
I remain still, unsure what to feel. No, I know what I feel.
Nothing.
I just learnt my mother and only biological parent — the only one I know of — is dead, and all I keep thinking about is how she doesn’t have to pay.
She left without paying.
She died as if she didn’t do anything wrong.
My nails dig into my lap until I register the sting on my flesh.
Now, her accomplice will pay for both of them.
Dad pats my shoulder. “Are you okay?”
I nod. “I don’t know why, but I think I kind of suspected it.”
“One less piece of scum in the world,” Agnus says without lifting his head from his tablet.
“That’s insensitive,” Dad tells him.
“The woman abused her own children — that’s what’s insensitive,” Agnus says in his usual cool tone.
“Agnus,” Dad warns.
“He’s right,” I say, not wanting them to fight because of this. It’s not like I wanted to find her for a noble cause, or like I wanted the engagement with Ronan for the reasons I made everyone believe.
I’m the worst scum.
I guess that’s what happens when you’re born the daughter of a whore.
After wishing them a great rest of the night, I leave Agnus and Dad’s office. I come to a screeching halt at the door. Knox stands there, feet crossed at the ankles as he leans against the wall. It’s then I realise I didn’t close the door earlier and my brother probably heard the whole thing.
I make sure to shut the door this time before I speak. “How much did you hear?”
“I already knew about Mum.”
“Y-You did?”
“I wish I was detached like you.” There’s pain in his voice, and I recognise it without struggling to. Knox’s pain was the only pain I could feel — until Ronan.
“Knox…”
“I searched for her when we were in Birmingham and — wait for it — I went back to that brothel, when I was maybe fifteen. When they told me she overdosed and died, do you know what I did?”
I approach him slowly, shaking my head.
“I cried so hard I thought I would never stop crying.” He laughs, rubbing the back of his nape, but it’s forced. “Pathetic, isn’t it, T?”
“No. She was our only family.”
“She was the whore who let those fuckers in while we were sleeping and—”
I slam a hand on his mouth, cutting him off. I don’t want to hear it. I’m so close to reliving it, and that’s never good.
He removes my hand gently. “Point is, we’re each other’s family. Dad and Agnus are our family. I shouldn’t have cried for that whore, and that’s when I realised I wasn’t crying for her. I was merely mourning our childhood and how abnormally we grew up because of her. It’s okay to cry, T. It purges more than those runs.”
“Thank you, Knox. I needed that today.”
“Happy freedom day.” He grins.
On this day eleven years ago, Knox and I broke the chains. We ran and never looked back.
We were kids, but we earned our freedom. We saw an out, so we took it. If we’d stayed there, I would’ve become like my mum and Knox would’ve probably killed himself or gotten into drugs and overdosed like a certain mother.
We’ve always saved ourselves, and that will continue.
He glares at me. “For the record, tell anyone I cried and I’ll murder you.”
“Depends on how you act.”
“I won’t be your bitch, sis.” He switches to his overdramatic tone. “Remember, I came out first.”
“Which means you cried first, right?”
“You little bugger.” He puts me in a headlock, and I stare up at him with a smile.
He softens almost immediately, letting me go as awe fills his features. “You’re…smiling.”
“You’re one of the few who gets to see it, so engrave it somewhere.”
“Ronan is rubbing off on you, isn’t he?”
“It’s not about him.”
“Yeah, right, could’ve fooled me.” He raises an eyebrow. “I was going to kick him out of our lives until I saw you with him. You’ve never been at ease with someone like you are with Ronan. Not even with me — and I hate it, by the way. I’m supposed to be your favourite.”
“You are.” My chest aches, but I mutter, “I’m breaking it off with him.”
“Why?”
Ugh. Why do he and Agnus have to ask that question? Would it be the end of the world if they didn’t know?
“Can’t you see it? Ronan and I couldn’t be any more opposite.”
Lie. We share more than the world will ever know, but I’m not telling Knox that.
“And yet you make it work. He’s been asking about you every time he sees me. He’s not doing well, T.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. He’s distracted at practice and hasn’t been throwing his usual jokes.”
He’ll move on. Ronan is the strongest, most admirable person I know.
He called me strong, but he’s way stronger than me.
I hid and shunned people. He slammed straight into them.
And then into me.
And now, we’re here.
And we shouldn’t be here.
After saying goodnight, I retreat to my room and slide down the door after I close it.
Something burns in my chest, and it…God, it hurts.
It hurts so much knowing what I’ll do to him. That’s why I’ve been delaying it, trying to talk my brain out of it.
Maybe I can live without revenge.
Maybe…
The little girl with black hair and soulless eyes appears in front of me. Silent tears fall down her cheeks, but she’s not speaking. She’s not doing anything.
She just stands there in her torn collar and dirty dress.
Help me.
Save me.
Free me.
She doesn’t have to say the words for me to feel them. She’s always been there; she’s the constant shadow on my shoulder.
And now, I have to get justice, for her.
For me.
You know what? I’m done hiding and running away from the inevitable. Agnus will get me the supplies if I ask him to.
I retrieve my phone and call the number I should’ve dialled sooner.
“Hello,” I say. “Can we meet tomorrow?”
After he confirms, I pull out a piece of paper and pour my heart onto it in one go.
This is my legacy.
My goodbye.
