"BURN OF DEATH" by Sarah Ryniker

STORY LAST UPDATED ON 20/06/2002

Burn of Death Prologue Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Epilogue

CHAPTER THREE

I forgot about the letter. I went straight back to my bedroom where I fell asleep. I didn't want to think about it. Why couldn't Mama tell me about it all? Did she not trust me enough to tell me? What was there not to trust? Was she afraid I'd tell Kit? Why wouldn't she want either of us to know, anyway?
    I felt betrayed. I felt as if my mother didn't trust me or feel that I was mature enough to hear the whole story. Why couldn't she tell me? I was hurt that she was hiding things from me. And I knew that she was hiding a lot from me. It wasn't what I had found out that had hurt me. It was the fact that my mother had a million secrets from me. Once again, I felt hurt and betrayed by my mother. Hadn't she meant to be a good mother? Isn't that what she had told me a million times?
    I woke up off and on during the night and right before the sun came up, I decided to go for a walk. I threw on a jacket over my pyjamas and made my way out of the house. I didn't know where I was going to go. I had no actual destination. I just walked with my head down, my arms crossed over my breasts to shield me from the early morning chill.
    I wasn't shocked when I ended up at my father's grave. I usually did when I felt lonely or hurt. It was my salvation, my way to be close to my father, a man that never hurt anybody. He was a man that had charm and was happy almost all of the time. He could take away pain as easily as it was given. And I was wishing that he were truly here now. But then again, if he were, wouldn't things have been different? I was positive that they would be.
    I sat at the gravesite. I didn't have anything to say to him. I knew that he'd known about it, but I was only twelve when he had died. I was much too young for a bunch of family secrets. I didn't stay young for long, as sad as it is. After the kidnapping, the raping and the beating, I lost my childhood. I lost who I really was. I often told Daddy about it, hoping that he could hear me, even in death.
    I sat there crying, my misery getting the best of me. I never let anyone else see me cry because tears were signs of weakness. Mama often told me that she never let anyone see her cry, either, but that was a lie. My mother was always crying in front of somebody, whether it was people on the phone, or Richard, or even Kit and me. I think maybe Mama didn't realise just how often she let everyone see her inner feelings.
    I really never let anyone see me cry. I acted hard and cold. The last time I had let anyone really see me cry was during the kidnapping when Mama showed up. I was so happy to see her that I cried and cried. After that, my tears stopped cold and the only place I ever shed them was either in my bedroom or here in front of the dead. They would not judge me.
    So when somebody I knew as no more than a judgmental jackass came up to me and asked me what was wrong, I felt embarrassed. I felt as if I had been caught doing something wrong. And not by somebody I knew and cared for, but by somebody I really didn't like at all.
    I glared up at Jackass, also known as Hunter. "What the hell do you want?"
    He seemed sincere as he sat down beside me. "Is this why you come here all of the time and never talk to anybody?" He nodded to the grave.
    "That is none of your business," I hissed and stood up. The sun was just coming up over the horizon to send a glow over the newly colourful trees. Fall was definitely starting to show.
    He stood up with me. "Why don't you let anyone be nice to you? You call everyone a jackass, and then you only act like one."
    I glared at him, though I knew he was right. He had been trying to be nice to me and I had acted like the jackass I accused him of being. "I don't call everyone a jackass. Just you," I said. I didn't make an attempt to leave. Something was keeping me here. Maybe it was the loneliness in my heart, the need to have somebody befriend me and understand me.
    "Well, then, I feel honoured to at least be chosen out," he replied, his incredibly dark blue eyes shining.
    "Why are you trying to be nice to me?" I snapped. "Are you and your friends pulling a prank on me?"
    "No, my sister and I live in your old home. I…" He paused for a second, looking a bit embarrassed. "I like to come here to the graveyard," he admitted.
    "And you've been making fun of me, calling me a freak, and being a jerk to me this whole time for something that you do?" I sat down on the ground. Why did it feel like the entire world was against me?
    "Well, you are kind of freaky, Gabriella. The only place I ever see you anymore since school ended is this graveyard. And always in pyjamas," he reasoned.
    I simply shrugged. "I'm more comfortable in my pyjamas. And I have no reason to show up anywhere else, anyway. This is where my father is and I don't feel bad for showing my feelings to the dead. They won't make me feel like a freak." Why I was confiding in him was beyond me. Maybe I had just been pushed too far over the edge.
    He nodded. "I'm sorry, Gabriella. You've always just been a mystery to everyone. You've always been something different from the rest of us, and I think it made everyone, even the adults, feel almost inferior to you."
    "Are you calling me a snob?" I asked, becoming defensive again.
    "No. I am saying you are on a different level than anyone else. Your being different makes people like they are all the same. You intimidate a lot of people. A lot of girls, including my sister, are jealous of you. At least in school I know they were. Don't know about now, nobody ever sees you."
    I looked at him as if he was truly insane. "Jealous of me?" I laughed. "Why the hell would anyone be jealous of me? I'm a freak, remember?"
    "A beautiful one." I stopped laughing and looked at him. "A lot of guys in school thought that even though you were the weirdest girl in school, you were the prettiest."
    I stood up again. "I'm done with this. You're trying to do something. I have no idea what your motive is, but I definitely do not trust you. I'm out of here." I started walking away, the sun shining through the trees and blinding me.
    "Do you trust anyone?" he called after me, still standing where I'd left him.
    "It's none of your business. Leave me alone," I yelled back, not bothering to look at him. Why did he care so much? He and his buddies must have something up their sleeves that I am not sticking around for, I thought to myself, walking faster.
    "I'll leave you alone this time, but I'll see you again, Gabriella." He just wouldn't stop.
    I stopped. "What is it to you? Why do you have to keep antagonising me?" I cried.
    "Because you're lonely and need a friend," he insisted, his palms out.
    "I don't believe you." It was the last thing I said to him. I turned and ran from him. I wouldn't believe him. I wouldn't have my mind messed with just because those people thought I was a freak. Hell, maybe I was one.
    When I got back, I saw Julie sitting on the front porch. She was still in a nightgown, her red hair braided and thrown over one of her shoulders. I never could understand how girls could keep their hair so long. I had always keep mine shoulder-length. It was so much easier to care for.
    "Are you always up this early?" I asked her.
    "Not always, but I can't sleep. What about you?" Her eyes were the deepest, most beautiful colour of green. Already a part of me was jealous. She was so beautiful and, at one time, she'd been given my mother's love. It just wasn't right.
    "Why do you care?" I snapped.
    "I was just curious. No need to take offence," she said softly.
    I felt a sting of guilt. It wasn't usual for me to feel guilt for being rude. But I somehow knew that Julie was not a bad person. "I'm sorry, I just can't sleep because of things on my mind." I sat down beside her.
    "Well, I can't sleep because I am sharing a room with somebody I truly can't stand," she said, her eyes growing dark and angry.
    "Who is she, anyway? I mean I could easily tell that you were Damian and Karen's daughter, but who is she?" I asked, looking at her.
    "She's the woman that my mother has always loved. Why she even wanted me in her life is beyond me. She always had her precious Annie. I have never truly mattered to my mother," she said bitterly.
    "You came here because you were hoping to stay, didn't you?" I asked. "Why don't you just move out?"
    "I'm in a junior college and I have no money to move out. Or else I would have been long gone," she muttered.
    I nodded. "Well, then stay. But I can assure you, Richard has my mother's attention twenty-four, seven."
    "I'd rather it be that way, than constantly being compared to beautiful, smart Annie." She was truly in misery when it came to that beautiful dark-haired girl. "The thing is, Annie knows my mother favours her. She rubs it in my face all of the time."
    "Well, favours do not happen in this house. Have you met my sister Kit yet?" I knew she would definitely like Kit.
    "Not really. I saw her when I got up this morning, getting ready to go to school. Other than a hi and good morning, I didn't talk to her." She shrugged.
    "You should talk to her more. Kit is a great person. In spite of what happened to us, she has become a wonderful young woman," I said proudly.
    She smiled. "You are very proud of your sister, aren't you?"
    I nodded. "Yes, very. She is amazing. There is nothing to not be proud of. I love her with all my heart. I became extremely close to her after what that bastard did. He ruined not only me, but my entire family as it was before he came into our lives."
    "What happened?"
    I felt like a fool. Why had I thought she had known? Because she was family? I didn't know Mama to associate overly much with family outside of her home. I shrugged my shoulders. "Nothing. Just nothing," I said. I got up and went into the house, not bothering to look at her. She was a stranger, and if she didn't know what had happened to us, then she would never get to know.
    "She's your mother's cousin, you know," I suddenly heard and turned to see that Julie had followed me into the house.
    "What?"
    She stood there, the morning light shining through the small, decorative half-dome window on the door to illuminate her and make her look even more beautiful. "Annie is your mother's cousin. Her mother Carissa is your mother's blood aunt," she told me.
    "Why wasn't I ever told that there was another one other than her aunt Jenny?" I wondered out loud.
    "Because I never really associated with Carissa. After my grandfather's death, she said she wanted nothing of his money since he had so easily given her up for adoption after her mother's death. After that happened, we never spoke. I was the only one to inherit anything." My mother's explanation came from the middle of the stairway. I looked up to see her standing there. I always wondered why my mother always seemed to look beautiful, even though she was so plain.
    Julie had disappeared when I turned to see if she was still there. I walked up the stairs to meet my mother. I stopped at the step just below the one she stood on. "Why are they here, Mama? After not seeing them for so long, why are they here?"
    Her eyes looked suspicious, and worried, as she shook her head. "I have no idea, Gabby. But Karen isn't one to do things out of the goodness of her heart. Why she is here is beyond my knowledge. But I guess we will find out, won't we?"
    I nodded. Then Mama and I went downstairs and began to make breakfast for everyone. The whole time, I couldn't help wondering what exactly was going on now. Karen had never so much as sent me a silly, cheap birthday card on Mama's, Kit's and/or my birthdays. So her being here now meant she had to want something. I mean, after not acting like a family for so many years, why would you show up on somebody's doorstep and be all ready to be family again? Hadn't that been how the whole psychiatrist incident had started? I stopped in the middle of cracking an egg, my mind spinning. What was going to happen this time? And as I stood there, feeling utterly dizzy, I knew, without a doubt, that something was about to happen. And this something just might throw my life into even more of a tale spin.
    When Karen and Damian walked into the kitchen, looking disgustingly like newlyweds, giggling and teasing each other, I felt like gagging. They smiled at us and said their good mornings and took seats at the table, waiting to be served. I could tell Mama was very annoyed; her eyes were dark and her movements jerky. We had been talking quietly before they had come in, and now she wasn't saying a word. Her lips were drawn together tightly. She was displaying her irritation, where as I was trying to keep mine under control. Yet I felt exactly how she looked.
    Julie came into breakfast, followed by Annie. Annie was nothing but sunshine and sweetness. She actually walked up to Mama and kissed her good morning. Mama gave her a smile and I shot a glance at Julie to see her reaction. Her eyes turned into slits and she looked as if she was about ready to grab a fistful of Annie's thick, dark, beautiful hair and slam her into the stove Mama was standing over. I honestly couldn't blame her. There was something completely phoney about Annie. I just had yet to pinpoint it.
    When everyone was finally sitting down at the table, I could tell Mama wanted to jump up and run back upstairs to hide until they left. I felt her pain. I wanted to do the same exact thing. Kit and Richard weren't even there because they had work and school. It left Mama and me to deal with this uninvited family who seemed to be as strange as they had been unexpected. Julie seemed hurt and unstable in the family, wanting to just escape them. Her bitterness saddened me. I never thought anyone could be as bitter as me. But, it was apparent to me, she was far bitterer towards her family than I was my own. But when I watched how Karen treated Annie, I understood.
    "Julie, why are you even at the table this morning? You never eat breakfast," Karen snapped at Julie, who had taken the seat next to her mother, Damian on the other side of Karen, with Annie on the other side of him.
    Julie glared angrily at her. "I thought it would be decent of me to come to breakfast; they did make it for us, didn't they? They didn't have to. I told you we should have called before we left. Now we look like nothing more than beggars!" Julie got up from the table, apologised to Mama for leaving so rudely and left the table.
    "I don't like breakfast myself, but I thought it would be friendly of me, as well, to join you." Annie smiled. I felt like choking her. I somehow felt protective over Julie. Why, I didn't really understand. But I knew that she truly had no one as far as her family went. And I vowed to be there for her. Annie, true blood cousin to me or not, didn't need anyone else. She was already treated as if the sun rose and fell on her every whim.
    We ate in silence after that. Julie's word kept ringing in my head. Now they looked like beggars. As I looked at Karen, who had tried to start a conversation up with Mama, I knew. I knew what they wanted. I was just waiting for somebody to drop the other shoe. And to confirm my hunch, I knew whom to ask.

Burn of Death Prologue Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Epilogue

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