Forbidden Knots (Shadow Duet #1)

23. TWENTY THREE

TWENTY THREE

Shadow

S itting in the corner of the living room, walls closing in around me, coldness stiffening my body on the sofa, I stared at the fireplace. Christian had lit the fire to help with the cold, as all three of us were exhausted from the search and the chill. His face was pale, his eyes red, and if I didn't know him better, I would say he really cared. Chiara was sleeping on the sofa, clutching a pillow against her; she looked so peaceful. My hands were on my head, my fingers brushing through my hair. I bit myself for not being able to find her.

I closed my eyes, memories bringing me back to the last night I saw my mother and father. It was a night like this, rain falling, and thunder piercing the air. I remember they got into a fight because we received another lawsuit from a neighbor due to my breaking in.

They didn't know I was breaking in to steal a necklace for Sophie that a kid from her school had stolen from her. Father was so angry that he took a belt and beat her with it. And she didn't care; she didn't even resist because she wanted to take it all in, not wanting his anger to be directed at us. I remember holding Sophie close as we heard her screams after each hit. That night, I swore I would do something about it, so I ran into the garage and cut the cable that connected the brakes. What I didn't know was that the same night they would take Sophie to rehearsal for her school play, and while I was getting high with two of my idiot friends, they were losing their lives.

I bit myself for so many years, thinking I was the one to blame and that all of this was my fault. And now I bit myself because Sophie is gone again, all because the last words I said to her were, "You are not Dad, not like him," when I saw her beating Thalia with a whip.

We are all made of trauma from our childhood, sometimes from abuse, sometimes from something we couldn't get, but it scars our minds to the point that now, as a grown man, I am not able to go to sleep in the bed without an open window because I missed the noise.

I can't keep a relationship because I am holding onto the fear that something like that will happen to me, and I will turn out like my father. We are running so fast from those broken family portraits that we end up being in situations just like that. And even if we try to break those images, something new comes back to turn us back to the beginning.

I love Sophie so much that I pushed too far by keeping her close, taking her from her friends and her life to this miserable town where she decided to try to end her life. I am begging all saints she didn't do it, and I bit myself for letting my demons win and becoming obsessed with Thalia. I know I won't be able to let her go, and I am afraid of what my love will do to her. I am afraid that my attempt to love will just dig a hole underneath us, and we will be buried in the depths of our broken minds. As fucked up as the situation is, she was my drug, and I needed her even now.

I blamed myself for falling asleep and letting her be gone, I blamed myself for her being in that haunted house instead of being safe and sound with me, and I blamed myself for not taking Sophie with us last night and locking her in her bedroom.

It's hard when time takes something you care so much about, yet it doesn't allow you to turn back. It's torture to the very end until you are awake as a madman trying to fix broken pieces that were never broken in the first place. I am fucked up , in all shades of fuckiness . And now I am dragging all of them with me. I became the Shadow, and they are becoming my darkness upon me. At one point, I haunted them, and now they haunt me.

Deep in my thoughts and regrets, I looked at the fire, my pupils scanning the flame. For a full minute, I thought something was calling me, but the fire was slowly dying out. As I came to the fireplace, I placed the iron poker into the fire and added some pine to make it warmer. As I lifted my head, I noticed something else catching a flame. I placed my hand into the fireplace, soot, and ash burning my skin, but I clenched my teeth and took the old paper out.

I knew immediately that this belonged to Sophie, as she was the one who wrote those notes and hid them around for 'special people' to find, and for a moment I thought this was for me. My heart raced and fell upon my arms, pulsing through my whole body as I took the letter and opened it wide, and as my eyes set to the paper, I knew this wasn't a clue, nor a note. It was more a secret she kept from me.

Pages were torn from her diary and showed a few dates close to when we left Chicago after our parents' deaths. As my eyes set on the text, I sat down, my hand hitting my jaw as I read what was written between those lines.

June 5th

He told me I was his only one, that I was his sky and his stars, but he never told me that he had a lot of stars and I was not his only one. Last night those stars were shut down as he laid his hands on me, touching me all over my body. He said I was his good girl and that it would all be over soon, but for me, it felt like an eternity. He was supposed to cure me, to fix me, but what he did was to forever make me sick.

He told me I was his secret, and I told him he was my dirty one. Over time I liked his touch, I liked his eyes, I liked the words that came out of his mouth. I was in love, questioning what was wrong and what was right, and all these years that he was with me, trying to fix me, I was fixing him and his dark lust.

His stars were starting to disappear, and I was the only one left. I told Mom everything, but she never believed me, no one did, just like he said. And now, when she is gone, I am afraid to tell anyone else.

He is still calling me every day, trying to get to me, but somehow Tristan saved me like he read that something was wrong and he took me far away from him. Even if I hate him for this, I am forever thankful, I will always be.

My hands clutched the paper, almost breaking the page as my eyes filled with tears, one of them falling down my cheek. I got up, my fist hitting the wall, peeling the paint with the impact. I hit it again, this time breaking my skin on the brick.

Christian came to me, holding me as I shouted, "Let me go." I turned around, ready to hit him too, but I stopped myself, shoving the page into his hands.

I sat down, my breath quickening, my hands shaking. Chiara slowly woke up from her sleep, her eyes wide with concern as she took in the scene.

I picked up another page, the date was just from yesterday. My hands shook as I read it, my palm hitting my mouth as tears streamed down my cheeks.