"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 FIVE

I knocked on Julie's door gently. I needed to talk to someone and I didn't want to bother Kit. This would be too much for my sister to handle. Or maybe I just feared that by telling her, I was admitting defeat already. Did I honestly want to fight whatever was coming?
    It was getting late. We all had already had dinner. At least, I assumed that everyone had. I could, of course, be wrong. Nobody had eaten together. I wasn't sure Mama had come down at all.
    Julie came to the door. She had obviously just taken a shower. Her red hair looked the same dark red as dried blood. It set around her shoulders in wet waves. She wore a terry cloth robe of pink that made her look sickly pale. Her eyes looked wide and miserable. I could feel the same fear I had emanating from her as well. Without a word, she stepped back to allow my entrance. When she shut the door, she turned to me, looking ever so haunted. "What's going to happen, Gabriella?" she asked in a voice that told me she hoped that I would have the answer.
    I simply shook my head. "I have no idea. My mother looks so empty. I have honestly never seen her in such a way."
    "I wish I could turn back time and make it to where my mother and daddy hadn't come here. I know you weren't happy before, but anything has to be better than what's coming," she said, looking guilty.
    I shook my head once more. "You couldn't have stopped them, Julie." I sighed. "What happened when Mama got back here?"
    "Phoenix went straight to see my mother. There was some yelling and then crying. I couldn't tell whom it was from, but I would assume it was Phoenix. It sounded so much like the cry of defeat and it frightened me. I heard a door slam and then another. Then the house became so deadly quiet."
    I shivered, remembering all too well how deadly quiet the house still was. "I can't believe Richard and Mama are actually letting Karen, Damian and Annie stay here. I just think my mother has completely given up all hope of ever being happy." It was a fearful thought. My mother wasn't a quitter. Yet, wasn't she quitting?
    "Me, either. I wouldn't blame them if they made them leave. They must not really care." Julie looked down at her hands. "I am so sorry, Gabriella."
    I left the room, not feeling any better than I had before going in there. I had hoped that talking about it to Julie would get it off my chest. But she seemed to be as helpless and pessimistic as I was. And I didn't want my own thoughts being spoken out loud by somebody else.
    Suddenly, the thought of the letter rang in my mind like a warning bell. I knew Mama and Richard were sleeping in there and it would be dangerous to go into there right now, so I decided that tomorrow night I would go find it. I didn't know if it would bring about more trouble, or the answers to these problems. I had to find out, though, because it seemed to have all stemmed from that damned letter.
    The next morning I woke to the sound of pounding on the front door. It would stop for short pauses and then begin again. Annoyed, I rose from the bed and made my way to the door.
    When I opened it, I was only further annoyed to see Mitchell Branch standing there with, who I could only assume, his wife, my mother's half sister Celeste on his arm. Her golden red hair, so much like Karen's, framed her face in glorious waves. She looked extremely younger than what I knew she was. If I didn't know who she was, I would assume she was no more than twenty-two or -three. She wore a red dress that clung to her body tightly, showing off every single curve. Too many curves, as far as I was concerned. She looked younger than what she was, but her body was far too chunky to wear what she was wearing. Her belly was straining obviously against the thin, stretchy material.
    I didn't hide my disgust. "You've only come for trouble. I would appreciate it if you'd leave." I went to shut the door in their faces. Celeste, once smiling brightly, looked at me with her own annoyance and disgust and put her foot in my way. I slammed the door anyway, and she cried out in pain. I smiled brightly and continued to shut the door. I locked it behind me.
    I could hear her through the door, complaining about how I was just like my mother. And I was shocked to find myself taking pride in that.
    My smile was wiped from my face suddenly, when the doorbell began ringing over and over again, until I had to turn around and thrust the door open. Celeste was just about to press it again when I glared out at her. She smiled once more. "We want to talk to your mommy." She spoke to me as if I was a child of no more than five.
    "I am nineteen years old, not four. Talk to me like an adult, and maybe you'll get to see my mother. But I highly doubt it. She doesn't need the stress of you two," I hissed, my blue eyes shooting fire at the two who looked so arrogant and ready to ruin my family.
    "How do you know I will cause your mother stress?" Mitchell Branch asked. He seemed to be hanging on my very answer, his eyes suspicious.
    "Because of the way she reacted when I spoke your name, if it's truly that important to you." I began to shut the door again, but this time Mitchell shoved his hand against the door to hold it open.
    "Why don't we just see? Let me talk to her. This is important business," he said, trying to keep his calm.
    "So is my keeping her from the likes of you," I snapped.
    To my surprise, Hunter walked up the walkway behind Mitchell and Celeste. Mitchell was tall, but Hunter was at least four inches taller. "Sir, ma'am, may I ask why you are bothering Gabriella?" he inquired, his tone polite, but his eyes dark, giving off a warning.
    "We are in need of speaking with her mother, Phoenix," Mitchell said, looking at Hunter, challenging him in some way. Hunter smiled at the irony of it. The smile frightened even me. It made me question the young man standing there.
    "Well, I would think that you were trespassing if the young lady here said no and you were so persistent you were willing to shove your way into the house." He made a point of looking at the hand placed forcefully against the door.
    Mitchell and Celeste left, though I knew they'd be back. I was grateful for not having to argue with them any longer. I looked up at Hunter thankfully.
    "Are you all right?" he asked, honest concern shining in his eyes.
    I nodded. "Yes, but so much is going on right now. And I know my mother is having the hardest time with him being the family's lawyer. I don't understand why, but that is how it is." I squinted my eyes as I watched the car Celeste and Mitchell had arrived in leave. "Too many damn secrets are flying through this house. And I have yet to know a single one."
    "I don't know what to tell you in that aspect, Gabriella. I don't really know what could be going on right now. Have you talked to your mother?"
    I stepped outside and began walking down the walkway, wanting ever so much to get away from the house. "I tried yesterday when I got back," I told him. I continued walking with my arms cross over one another and resting on my chest. I proceeded to tell him what had happened when I had come home the day before.
    "It gives me the chills thinking about it. I have never seen a family with so many ghosts flying about them."
    I smiled at his surprise when he looked up to see that we were at the graveyard. We had walked here, and I knew it had shocked him to know that he had walked here with me. He looked over at me and saw me smiling. It brought a smile to his lips. I suddenly felt very self-conscious and wiped the smile from my lips. I made my way into the graveyard to my father's tombstone. "I never thought I'd find myself becoming friends with anyone. This is the closest I have ever come," I admitted, looking at the granite stone. I didn't have the nerve to look at him.
    "Is it so horrible, Gabriella, to trust somebody?"
    His words brought tears to my eyes. "I was never so distrustful. Not until it all happened." I felt the tears willing themselves over to my cheeks. I didn't want to cry, damn it. Yet I needed to. I needed the comfort of somebody being there to say consoling words while the tears rushed their sad paths down my cheeks.
    I felt him standing behind me, so close to me. Yet he was in a different world than me. Just as he had said. We were on two different levels. He wanted to help; he wanted to be my friend. Yet I felt that no matter what, I would always be in a different world than him. He could never understand what I had been through.
    "Until what happened, Gabriella?" It was the first time the sound of my name on his lips had ever given me the chills as it did then. He spoke it so softly. And for once in my life, I knew what it felt like to truly want to trust somebody, to have someone understand me.
    The tears burst out as if I had been holding them back with a dam of emotions for too long. The dam had broken and now I was becoming a mess, much like my mother. I felt my knees fall out from beneath me. Hunter grabbed me and pulled me to him. He sat on the ground and held me close while I cried.
    And I told it all. I told him everything from my father's death until now. All of my feelings and everything that had led me to them. I had a fear of shocking him so much that he'd never want to be friends with me again, yet his arms never faltered around me. They felt solid, strong enough to take on the world, my world of misery.
    When I was finished, I was drained of tears. I was emotionally drained. My body felt limp and weak. I felt empty, as if I had finally let go of it all. And in some strange way, I felt better. I sighed, closing my eyes, letting my head rest against his shoulder. "Thank you," I whispered, feeling myself begin to drown in the darkness of sleep. My head fell back, the sleepiness coming over me. I felt safe and comforted, more than I ever had before.
    "You needed it, Gabriella," he whispered back, his lips just inches from mine.
    I had never been kissed before. I knew that most women who had been raped became scared even at a kiss. Yet this was different. His lips brushed gently against mine, and to my surprise, energy came back to me and I kissed him back, my arm wrapping around his neck.
    It was as if I was completely in a dream. When it was over, neither of us spoke. He simply rose, keeping me in his arms, and he walked all the way back to the house with me like that. I fell asleep from emotional exhaustion and only woke when I was being placed back into my bed.
    I looked at him, bending over me to place my blanket around me. "Thank you, Hunter. You were right, you know. I did need a friend. Now I have one." I felt like a child, one just learning to trust the world again. I truly felt as if I was waking up to the world of trusting again. I just didn't know what would bring me back to my bitter world of distrust. But I knew something would.
    He kissed my forehead and left the room. I curled up in bed and slept for the rest of the day. I didn't feel like waking up from the dream that somebody might actually care about what I was feeling. I didn't care if it was real or not. It felt good to have somebody even act as if they cared. I felt safe. I didn't feel that emptiness that had frightened me so much.
    When I did finally wake up, it was just after dinnertime. My stomach was growling. I was incredibly hungry. I had yet to eat anything. It had felt good to feel that floating feeling, but now it was gone, in its place only the feeling that everything was going wrong. I had been able to ignore it all for a little while, but it was back now. Reality had come back to me and I hated it. I could now understand why people said ignorance is bliss. It truly was.
    I left the room with a feeling of trepidation. I ate in the kitchen completely alone, which didn't truly shock me. I was actually relieved. Facing them meant facing the problems. And problems were always around. I was tired of looking into the face of misery.
    Julie came down the stairs as I sat there, Kit following at her heels. Both saw me in the kitchen and quickly came to sit down beside me. Kit's face was filled with concern and worry. Julie and I, I suddenly realised, had befriended one another. When that had happened, I didn't know. Maybe I had been too self absorbed to notice. I was feeling mighty selfish with these wondrous feelings developing in my heart, while my entire world was tumbling down around me.
    "Are you okay, Gabby?" Kit asked. "You slept all day, and you haven't done that in a long time. Julie said a boy brought you home and had told her you had just passed out."
    I smiled at her as I stood up to take my plate to the sink. "I'm just fine, Kit. I am starting to realise that things always find a way to work themselves out. The things that have been going on around here, though, have taken their toll on me. But trust me, I am fine."
    She smiled with relief. "I'm so glad you're alright, Gabby! Now tell me, who was this boy that brought you home?" Excitement lit up her eyes to make them sparkle with mischief.
    For the first time in my life, I found myself blushing. "Nobody, really, Kit. Just somebody who is becoming a good friend. I didn't realise how much I really needed that."
    "Everyone needs friends, Gabby. Even you," Kit said, evidently extremely happy that I had finally found someone I could actually be friends with.
    "I am terribly tired," Julie said, standing up. Kit looked up at her and then rose herself. "I'm going to go to bed."
    "Me, too. Goodnight, Gabby." Kit turned around and then stopped and looked back to me. "If Mama and Richard get home before you go back to bed, tell them I love them and goodnight."
    I nodded, though I felt my whole body paralyse. Thunder and lightning crackled outside, reflecting on what was going on inside of me. I could go into their room to find that letter now! So why did I stand there, feeling scared? My legs actually shook as I walked through the kitchen.
    I don't truly remember walking up the stairs. My legs felt like jelly, but I was in such a daze, my eyes stayed forward, looking in the direction of my destination. Whatever was in that letter had something to do with what was going on now. I knew it deep in my heart. My intuition rang off bells at the thought of that secret letter.
    And it was secret. Part of me, like last time, felt like turning around to run. A little voice in my head was screaming at me that the letter wasn't worth reading. That little voice was promising me that whatever was in it would only cause more problems. Something that I didn't need right now was another problem.
    Later, I knew that I should have listened to that voice, rather than the one urging me on, promising to answer all of my questions. But this voice was so much stronger. I wanted the answers to everything. I didn't want to wait until I could pry them out of my mother. I wanted what this voice promised. It promised to solve all of the mysteries of my family. How could I fight that?
    My hand burned on the doorknob, the voice of reason getting louder and stronger, trying to make me turn back. I closed my eyes and stood there for a while, my hand stuck on that handle. I took deep breaths, willing myself to leave, but willing myself to go on.
    I began to cry with my indecision. I needed to know. Why I needed to know, I didn't truly understand. But the letter was calling to me. I could hear it, telling me to come read and learn.
    "I'm sorry, Mama," I whispered out loud to nothingness as I turned the knob and pushed the door open.
    I walked into the room and turned on the nearest lamp. I looked around to decide my first plan of action. I started going through her dresser. Next, her nightstand. When I hadn't found it in either place, I sat on the bed and began to contemplate where it could be.
    I leaned over her bed, something actually coming to mind. I pulled the pillow back to see her diary sitting there. Did I have the guts to pick it up and look? I bit my lower lip as I gently picked up the book. It burned in my hands, and I had a feeling that I should drop it.
    I opened the first page and then the second, resisting the urge to read the words scrawled over the pages. Finally, I came to an envelope hidden within the folds. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath before lifting the envelope into my hands. I placed the diary in my lap as I turned the envelope over to read the address and names printed so elegantly on it.
    I was shocked to see the letter was from Mitchell Branch. All nervousness left me as curiosity took over. I slipped out the four-page letter from inside. I began to read, my heart pounding more and more with each word. I covered my mouth before actual screams escaped, as I read what I truly didn't want to.
    I jumped to my feet. Tears were blinding me as I shoved the letter back into that evil white envelope. Why did I have to read it? The book fell to the floor and, not caring to pick it up, I thrust the letter onto the bed.
    I rushed from the room, hating what I just read. I felt the walls of the house suffocating me. I turned around and pounded on my mother's door over and over again, letting out screams and cries of frustration.
    And then I ran. I ran from the house and into the storm outside. I ran through the streets until I couldn't breathe, and still I ran. I ran into the cemetery and to his grave. I looked through blurry eyes at the gravesite before me and shook my head back and forth, crying so hard I starting gagging. I fell to my knees as I began to throw up.
    "Why, Daddy? Why didn't you ever tell me? Damn you!" I screamed. "You're not even my father! You all lied! All of it has been a lie." I fell onto the ground, helpless to move. My entire body had felt drained of every bone. I could die right then, and I wouldn't have cared. Mud splashed around me as the rain pounded to the ground. And I laid there helpless, staring at the grave and wishing to God that I had never read that letter to find out that Mitchell Branch was my father.

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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