© 2003 by Sarah Ryniker JudgmentalMama@hotmail.com http://www.oocities.org/iamthealmightyrah/FF.html

STORY LAST UPDATED ON 31/05/2003

PROLOGUE

For all the times I never asked my mother my true origins, I knew now that I should have. But I'd had no suspicion that I wasn't brought up here; that I didn't belong. As far as I was concerned, this was my home. I'd known no other. It wasn't the woman who'd adopted me who was being put into the ground; it was my mother.
    My mother had been a beautiful woman, and her death hadn't been deserved. It hadn't been her fault that she had walked into our home first when we had been being robbed. It hadn't been her fault that the thief had got scared, turned around and shot her with a hunting gun he was stealing from me. Sometimes I wished that I had been the first one in the house. I'd be the one in the casket, and she'd still be alive.
    My mother's aunt, my great-aunt Diane, was the one to tell me of my adoption. She wasn't a nice woman. And her cruelty hit home slightly too hard. Especially since she told me the day before the funeral. She said that I had no right to be upset, and that I really should have been the one in the ground.
    "She's dead, and it's all your fault," she snapped harshly, making me sit down. "If you'd just gone off to college as planned instead of taking time off and then buying that ridiculous gun, she would still be here."
    In spite of Aunt Diane's cruelty, my mother had been her favourite niece. She had a special liking for Annie Lowell, her twin sister's young daughter whom she'd raised herself. But as much as she loved Mom, she hated me.
    "I wish I'd never brought you to her," she claimed, and I looked at her confused. "Yes, it was all because of me that she had you. She and her husband had just lost a child, and her husband killed himself over the depression he suffered because of it. I brought you here to fix it all, and now look at the mess you've brought about. You're nothing more than a curse!"
    "What are you talking about?" I looked at her as if she was completely nuts, but she shook her head.
    "Don't look at me as if I am going insane and have no idea what I'm talking about," she snapped. "You were adopted, you little fool, and your real mama isn't anything but a silly little whore. She was sixteen when she gave birth to you, you know. She was my young cousin's daughter, and he pleaded with me to help him. So I did, by taking you away from the silly girl."
    "Adopted?" The words rang over and over in my head, but they wouldn't click. I couldn't be adopted. Mom had never treated me as if I'd been adopted.
    But it was true, and I stood there as the rain gently came down while they put Mom into the ground. I was adopted. She had treated me as if she'd birthed me herself, even telling me stories of my birth. Maybe somewhere in her mind I was the child she'd lost before I'd actually come along. That made me think… Was my birthday my real birthday? Was I really eighteen already?
    And was what Aunt Diane said true about my real mother? What was the real story behind it all? I decided then and there that I needed to know the truth of it all. I couldn't go on without knowing.

CHAPTER ONE

Mom used to tell me that she didn't think there was a man as handsome as I was. She promised me that I looked just like my father, only I had blond hair and he had black. I never saw the resemblance, but she insisted, so I never said anything against it. I never wanted to hurt her. Her feelings were so fragile, and I was the only one who could ever make her smile.
    She was always so depressed. Large golden-brown eyes would stare off into space at times, making me wonder what she was thinking about. She seemed so empty, so lost. I felt as if I was her only life raft, and should I ever leave her she would float away, and I'd never see her again.
    I never told anyone, because she made me promise not to, but I had prevented her from committing suicide many times. She always seemed to want to be dead, along with my father. I'd never met him, since he had died of an overdose right before I'd been born.
    It was the true reason I'd stayed home instead of going to college after graduation. I enjoyed hunting in the dark forests that surrounded our home in Colorado. It was the only time I ever left my mother alone, but it was never for long. I always rushed right back to her as soon as I was finished.
    I never had any friends because of that reason. Girlfriends were just as scarce. I rarely ever asked a girl to go on a date with me, and even when I did they seem appalled that I'd even asked. I knew rumours were flying around the school madly about me. They all talked about incest, and my strange obsession with my mother. If they only knew, maybe they would have shut their filthy mouths.
    I got into more than one fight about it. It was one of the only times I went against Mom about something. She begged me not to fight, that nothing was worth it. But she didn't know what the fights were about. I doubt she would've liked me fighting, even if she did know, but I didn't want her to. It would just add more to the burden that she carried.
    We were a family, albeit a small one. I knew there were many families in our town similar to ours. There were all over the place. It wasn't so unusual in this day and age for mothers to be single. It was just unusual for my attachment to be so strong, and for my mother to be so "crazy".
    Nobody knew of her trying to commit suicide. But Mom had herself locked into her own world. She never left the house, and when she tried her palms would get sweaty, and she would rush right back into the house. She couldn't even check the mail. Aunt Diane did whatever I couldn't do for her.
    Mom had been diagnosed with agoraphobia when I was five years old. People knew of me and wondered why I wasn't in kindergarten, and had somebody sent over to the house. That's when they first started talking about how crazy she was. They just didn't understand her, and it made me angry. My mother wasn't crazy. She was just scared of things that most people weren't.
    I was mature for my age, though I longed to have the freedom to do what other children did. It wasn't Mom's fault that I didn't, though. She told me to go out and play, even though she would watch out the window nervously when I actually did. Eventually, her looks of fear made me feel guilty, and I stopped going out unless I had to. I just couldn't stand making her feel that way when it wasn't needed. I had toys and things to play with. I didn't need to be outside that much.
    Often, I could hear Aunt Diane in our home, begging my mother to do something about my strangeness. "People talk about him being weird, Annie. They make fun of him. Do you want that?" she would raise her voice harshly, and I could hear Mom crying in the next room.
    "Of course I don't want that. But he doesn't go out and play even when I tell him to. He always just wants to be with me," she would cry hysterically, and I would feel that it was my fault.
    This conversation happened when I was twelve years old. Most boys were just getting into trouble, experimenting with things such as cigarettes and even alcohol. How could I ever explain to Aunt Diane that I just didn't want to do what they did? She would insist that I did, anyway. She was convinced that I was abnormal.
    I would question myself daily, wondering if I was normal. If I was, then why was Aunt Diane convinced that I wasn't? If I wasn't, what made me so strange? I knew what people said made me weird, but what truly made me like that? I never asked Mom much about Aunt Diane's nagging, and her cruel words. I hated bringing it all back up after all was done and said.
    And now Mom was gone, and I was on my own. Mom had never made a will, but the house belonged to me, along with all of her belongings. Aunt Diane wanted none of it. After the funeral, we didn't even speak to one another. I had no use for the harsh old woman, anyway.
    But I did have use for her information. I was adopted. That meant I still had family out there, and I wasn't alone. I wasn't in the slightest worried about acceptance, of course. It wasn't like me to care if people accepted me or not. If they didn't, then I would live on, maybe even like a hermit, having only the memories of Mom and I to keep going. If I were accepted then I would have a whole new family, a whole new life to live. And maybe I would be given the hope that I could be normal.
    It took me a month to get over the fear of going on my search for the truth. Now my whole life seemed like a lie, and all there was surrounding me was mystery, rather than the comforting love of my mother. Now I was naked and vulnerable. But this was something I had to do. I knew that.
    And so I packed up my things, threw them in the trunk of my car and made my way over to Aunt Diane's. I first had to find out where I was really born, and where this cousin of hers lived. After all, I couldn't just hop in the car and go from house to house asking, "Are you my real mother?"
    It was late afternoon as I made my way up Aunt Diane's front walk. For some reason, my heart pounded nervously. But I was always like that around her. Aunt Diane made me nervous. I could never make eye contact with her because I was afraid that she would see something in me that I didn't know existed.
    I knocked on the door, and waited until her only companion, a rather large, tall, round woman named Rhonda, to answer the door. Rhonda was her maid and cook. Aunt Diane couldn't do any of that on her own, and Rhonda didn't mind doing it for her. I never asked questions. However they wanted to live their life was their business.
    "Is my aunt home?" I asked as soon as Rhonda pulled the door open. She nodded, and turned around to lead me into the house.
    Rhonda never spoke. It made me wonder how Aunt Diane could tolerate her. Aunt Diane preferred that people give her answers should she ask a question. Not just a quick "yes" or "no", and not just a nod of the head, either. She wanted a full explanation of something, and if she didn't get what she wanted all Hell broke loose. She was a tyrant of a woman.
    I was led towards the back of the house, where my aunt was having her lunch on the back porch. She turned as she heard the door to the porch open, and saw me. She rolled her eyes, and turned back towards the vast view of mountains and trees that surrounded her home.
    "I need to know where I was born, Aunt Diane," I spoke after Rhonda left us. I didn't bother going up to her. I knew she wouldn't look at me, anyway.
    "If you're looking for your birth family, they live in Carmel, California. If you want an address I can give it to you. I'll even give you their names," she said, and took a slip of paper and a pen out of her purse.
    I left there with my mother's name and address in my hand. Felicity Lavigne. I had to admit she did have a rather pretty name. I just couldn't imagine what she looked like. Did she have blond hair like me? Did I inherit my pale blue eyes from her? Did I have her nose, her lips? What part of me was the woman who gave birth to me? And could I ever be close to her?
    I thought about all of those things over and over as I drove towards California. It was a long enough drive to have time to think. I almost turned around several times, deciding that I didn't want to know. I was scared that if I loved my real mother, that meant Mom meant nothing to me. I knew in my heart that it was a silly fear. But it was there all the same.
    I ignored it, however, and only a day and a half later, in the middle of the night, I was driving up the drive towards my birth mother's home. It was a beautiful house, like none I'd ever seen before. It was giant, and sparkled in the moonlight like a rare gem. I was scared about entering the gates, and deciding against it, I turned around and left. I checked into a hotel, and there I stayed the night, debating on what I should do.
    I didn't know if I could go about just knocking on their door and saying, "Hi, Mother, I'm your long-lost son." What if she had meant to get rid of me for good? What if I reminded her of something that she had wanted to forget? I didn't want to ruin anyone's life.
    But what about your life? a little voice within me asked. Doesn't what you want matter? Isn't it time to live for you, and not somebody else?
    Yes! I wanted to scream. Yes, my wants and needs do matter, no matter what anyone says.
    As I lay down after my long drive, thinking about it all, I began to hum to a song my mother used to sing to me. And, without really noticing, I began to sing it out loud.
    "Why do birds suddenly appear, every time you are near? Why do stars fall down from the sky, every time you walk by?" I sighed, and stopped my singing. I shook my head. The song brought tears to my eyes. I missed her so much. Her love was the only thing I'd really had to live for before.
    I couldn't sleep that night. I could only be lost in the maze of memories of my loving mother. I was her only reason for living, as well. If I happened to doze off, I would wake in a sweat, having relived that horrible moment when I heard the gun go off. I wanted to tear apart the guy who did it, but I'd been frozen and he'd run past me and out the front door. I held Mom in my arms during her last moments. She just stared at me, and began to sing our song.

When dawn came, I still didn't know what to do. So I swallowed, got up, took a shower and got dressed. Then I got back into the car, and drove my way to my birth mother's home once again. I pushed the buzzer when I got there, but nobody answered.
    "Damn it," I muttered, and gripped the steering wheel. Not knowing what else to do, I just sat there in my car, staring at the house. I didn't know how long I was there, but suddenly I heard a car horn blaring behind me.
    I turned around just to see a pretty blond girl get out of her black Porsche, and make her way towards me. There was no way of escaping her obvious attempt of assault. Her car had me trapped here at the gates.
    She tapped on my window, and I rolled it down. "What do you think you're doing?" she demanded, her turquoise eyes lit with fire.
    "I - I - I," I stuttered. I was trapped, and I could feel it. I was scared, and this little rich princess looked as if she was about to throw me in the dungeon of her precious castle for blocking her driveway. "I need to see a Felicity Lavigne," I managed to get out.
    Her eyes took on recognition of the name, and curiosity filled her eyes. "That's my stepmother," she said. "I guess you can go in."
    She walked around my car, and dialled some numbers on the pad next to my car. The gates opened, and I drove in. There was no turning back now. I felt as if I was doomed and heading towards a firing squad, with the princess behind me as my captor. She drove behind me, and I knew that she was getting frustrated as I drove slowly.
    When I parked, she did so behind me and got out. She walked up to my car again, her hands on her hips. "Are you getting out or what?"
    I nodded, and took a deep breath. I opened the car door slowly, and got out. She looked at me with her eyebrows raised. "I am just a little stiff from travelling from Colorado."
    She nodded, still looking curious. I could hear the question "Who are you, and what do you want with my stepmother?" going through her head. Yet, to my luck, she didn't ask.
    "Well, I'll take you to see Felicity. I'm sure she's not expecting you, right?" I nodded again, and she smiled tightly and turned around.
    She went so fast I didn't get to stop and glance at the beauty of the house. Not that I didn't notice it, of course. It was lovely. Beautiful paintings hung all over the place. I was sure that they were extremely expensive. Everything in the house had a rich look to it. I was scared of even stepping in here, and contaminating everything. How could anyone live comfortably in such riches?
    The girl turned a corner, and told me to wait outside a door. I heard voices, and then heard a woman say, "Let him in" with a sigh.
    The girl opened the door, and I walked inside. I looked upon my birth mother, searching immediately for similarities. I could see them immediately. I had her nose, and her eye colour. Her hair was brown, though. But I did look like her. That put something bittersweet into my heart.
    She knew who I was right away. I could see it in her eyes. They evaluated me, probably doing the exact same thing I'd been doing. Then she met my eyes, and I knew that I wasn't going to be turned away, but many questions were to be asked.
    "You can leave now, Kylie. We'll talk later about this," my mother said, addressing the girl that had led me into the room. Kylie seemed reluctant to leave, but did as she was told, promises of later gossip dancing in her head.
    After Kylie left, I spoke first. "I'm sorry to just burst in on you like this. I just-"
    She put her hand up to stop me. "Don't say a word. I know. You need answers. I just never thought you'd come here. I thought you'd never learn of me and your birth."
    "I know only of you, not my birth. My mother never told me." She seemed hurt by the word "my mother" but that was what she was to me. If she didn't like the thought, she shouldn't have given me up. "I just learned of you from my great-aunt Diane after my mother's death."
    "I know nothing other than Diane Morton taking you away. I really didn't get to know you all that well before you were whisked away from me. I hardly got to hold you," she said, not looking at me. "What is your name?"
    "Travis Robert Lowell," I told her, and she looked up and smiled at me.
    "They picked a very nice name for you, Travis." She seemed ready to cry, but held it back. "I used to wonder about you, you know. I suppose all women wonder about the children they give away. But never in my life had I imagine you'd appear again." She shook her head. "And yet here you are, and I haven't got a clue what to do. I love seeing that you're here, yet it's so difficult to deal with because I don't know who you are."
    I looked away. I had never thought of that before. I had expected my birth mother would open her arms wide, hold me and tell me she wished she'd never given me away. Yet truth was stabbing me directly in the heart. It wasn't that she said she didn't want me. But she had made it clear that she had a family now, and I had only existed in the deepest parts of her imagination. She'd never thought of me coming here because she never wanted me to. But why?
    She must have seen the hurt in my eyes, and eased up a bit. "We can get to know each other, though, Travis. I'd like that a lot. And maybe one day we can be close, as we should be."
    I nodded, and she smiled. Her smile was beautiful, but there was something dark in her eyes. I'd noticed it from the moment she'd looked at me. And with her words, I was left to wonder, why? Why was that look there? Had I put it there, or was she not as happy as she was appearing to be?
    In the days and weeks to come, I would learn things I hadn't expected. I would learn about the part of me that made my real mother flinch inside with agony. I would learn the secrets of my birth, and learn about the horrible reasons why my mother seemed to have mixed feelings about greeting me with joy. And all of it made part of me wish I'd never shown up on her doorstep, to bring back the agonising memories of the past.
    I was a walking memory. I was only meant to stay as a baby in her mind. I was only meant to be something to be remembered, but never to be a reality. Yet here I was, in the flesh. And I could almost hear her questions of "Why? Why? Why?" echoing in my head. My only response was "Yes, why, Mother? Why?"

CHAPTER TWO

I knew that one of the things that went through my mother's head was "How in the world can I explain this?" Even if her husband knew about me already, her children didn't. And it would be difficult to explain the sudden appearance of an older brother they'd never known existed. She'd never felt a reason to tell them because she'd never even dreamed that I'd show up on her doorstep.
    I gave her no choice, however. The first to hear the truth about me was Kylie. Her eyes bulged out of her head to hear what Felicity had to say. I just couldn't call her Mother. I couldn't find it within myself. Sure, she'd given birth to me. But that was far as our connection went.
    It was when her children, Tomas and Kimberly, came home from school that she told them about me. She didn't go into depth, of course, they were awfully young. Tomas was nine years younger than I was, and Kimberly was five years younger than that. At nine years old, Tomas stood tall and strong. He looked a lot like me when I was his age, and seemed very mature and caring for his four-year-old sister, who was a mini-genius because she went to a special school for advanced children. At four years old she was already in the third grade.
    I watched as Felicity explained to them how their mommy had sent her first child away to live with relatives, and now he was back to see us. Both turned to me with curious eyes, especially Tomas. "Why did you send him away?" he asked, his blue eyes suspicious.
    Felicity shot a look at me, and then back to Tomas. "I sent him away because I couldn't take care of a baby at the time."
    "Why didn't you send for him after you were ready? Did you forget about him?" he asked, and I saw something in her eyes show her guilt and sadness.
    "No," she said, looking at me. "I never forgot about him." She looked back to the children. "I just couldn't take him away from his other mommy."
    Tomas looked confused but quickly stopped his chain of questions. He still looked at me with suspicious eyes, making Kimberly treat me the same way. "Come on, Kimmy," he said, grabbing his sister's hand. "Let's go play outside."
    I watched them leave; a bit amazed at their intelligence, yet jealous of the love she gave them. Why had she given me away so easily? She could have provided for me very easily with all her obvious riches. So why was it that I hadn't been raised here, with my true mother?
    "I know you have a lot of questions, Travis," she said, and shook her head as she wrapped her arms around herself. "I just don't know if I have the strength to answer them right now."
    "I do have many, but why can't you find the strength to answer them? I deserve to know them as much as you do. It's my past, too." I knew I was being demanding and selfish, but I'd never really thought of myself before.
    In her eyes was a pain I'd never seen before, and I felt like backing off. "Give me some time, Travis. Please, just a little bit of time. I know you deserve to know, but there are just some things in my past I'd never expected to revisit. I guess I should have."
    She walked past me then, to end the conversation there. I sat down in the chair she'd been sitting in, my elbows on my thighs as I ran my fingers through my hair. Already it seemed to be nothing but a confusing mess here. My mother didn't want to tell me the things that I'd come here to know. How could she be so positive that she would ever be ready to spill it? She probably never would, I thought bitterly to myself.
    Suddenly, a man with thick red and grey hair stood in the doorway. He smiled gently, and offered his hand. "I'm Kingsman Riley, the Lavigne family butler. Although, they aren't the Lavignes here anymore, now are they?" He laughed.
    "I don't know. I don't know my mother's last name." I was in too much of a huff to joke around. I knew I was being rude, but I couldn't help it. I was so frustrated.
    "Thortyn." He clipped any other sort of conversation short with the one word. I knew he wasn't a rude person, but I deserved it. "Come, I'll show you to your room." He had a hint of a Scottish accent, but I had a feeling living here had removed it.
    I followed him to a room on the second storey. It was so big the mahogany four-poster California king-sized bed looked almost tiny in the centre of the room. The walls were painted a rather dark blue. The bed sheets were made of a soft, ivory silk, and the comforter was so black it appeared to be brand new. The other furniture in the room, such as the large desk off to the side of the bed and the dresser on the other side, were all in the same dark mahogany. The room was very dark, and gave me the chills. My bedroom back home had been bright, maybe a little too childish.
    The room was masculine, however. There was a large wooden chest at the end of the bed with a beautiful handmade quilt on it. I was very curious about the room. It seemed as if it was more than just a regular guest bedroom. I imagined it probably belonged to somebody at some point in time.
    I had my own bathroom in the room, too. It was large and luxurious itself. The giant tub with the jets inside was placed up against the window that gave an absolutely breathtaking view of the ocean. The counter tops were made of black and gold marble. There was plush white carpeting on the floor, rather than tile or more marble. It gave a rather nice feel after a bath or shower, I would soon learn.
    The whole place was as big as my living room and kitchen put together back in the house I'd grown up in. I suppose I should have expected such luxuries. But I hadn't expected it. I had almost expected to be treated somewhere close to a servant, only more useless. But I was being treated like some prince come to bestow a wonderful visit on the family.
    I heard a knock on the door, and turned to see Kylie leaning in the doorway. "You like?" she asked, noticing how big my eyes were.
    I nodded. "It's very nice, albeit a bit dark. My room back home had a lot more lighting," I said, looking around the room again, still disbelieving what my eyes were seeing.
    "Open the curtains." She smiled at her smart remark and then invited herself into the room. She threw up on the heavy, dark blue curtains to reveal a window that curved out, rather than another wall. The lighting was amazing, and I got a perfect view of the trees and gazebo on the property.
    "Wow, I didn't know that was there." She laughed at my surprise. I turned towards her, admiring her smile. She was really very beautiful. But she was probably the type of girl that knew it.
    "Well, there are a lot of things here you'll need to learn about. But you'll get the hang of it." I thought I heard her mutter "I did" but I didn't question it. "All of the furniture and everything belonged to Felicity's father, Tomas. She didn't want to get rid of it, but she wanted to make the master suite hers. So she renovated one of the guest bedrooms and modelled it after her father's room. She did a fantastic job, if you ask me. It almost seems larger than the master suite."
    "Why did she give this to me? I hope she's not trying to impress me." It was a thought that had just come to me. I certainly didn't want her to show off her wealth. It wasn't something I was interested in, no matter what it bought you.
    "Felicity?" Kylie laughed. "No, Felicity doesn't try to impress people, nor does she try to show off what she was born into. I'm sure there is another reason for giving you this room."
    "Well, maybe she can at least tell me that. God knows she won't tell me about my birth." I wasn't getting off to a good start with anybody here. Kylie was making a grand effort, but I could see in her eyes that she was beginning not to like my attitude.
    "Okay, just because you can up and accept you were adopted and come running here doesn't mean it's just as easy for her to go back through it all and tell you. Give her some time, and stop being an impatient little brat," she snapped, and turned to leave.
    "Kylie!" I heard a girl's voice call. It wasn't Kimberly's, so I was interested. I hadn't known there was another child here.
    "I'm in here, Tawny. Hold on, I'm coming right now," she called out before throwing me another disgusted look.
    "What are you doing in this room?" I heard the voice say again, and saw a rather beautiful young girl peek inside the door. Her hair was at least waist-length and a beautiful midnight-black colour that most people could only get by hair dye. Her eyes were the same blue as my own, only they were more almond-shaped.
    She wrinkled her nose in confusion at Kylie, and then realised I was there. Then the most beautiful smile I'd ever seen was bestowed upon me. "Hello!" she said brightly.
    "Hello," I replied. "Who might you be?"
    "This is Tawny," Kylie snapped. "Your other sister."
    "My mother never mentioned that I had another sister," I said, stunned that she hadn't told me about Tawny. How could she forget her older daughter?
    "Well, you do. She is twelve," Kylie went on, as if Tawny wasn't even there. "Tawny, this is your older brother, Travis."
    Then, not caring if Tawny followed, Kylie left, annoyed. I almost felt like running after her and apologising. But I had a feeling that it wouldn't be accepted. She was annoyed that I had such bad things to say about Felicity. Maybe I should have understood more. But I didn't.
    "I didn't know I had an older brother. I always thought that Kylie was my only older sister," she said, and then looked around as if she didn't want someone to hear her. "She's only my half-sister, though."
    I smiled. "That's all right. I already knew that." She looked surprised that I knew, but I guessed that not many people knew much about their family. "I would tell you more about me but all I know is that your mother, our mother, gave me away right after birth."
    She cocked her head to the side, her beautiful eyes lost in a thought for a moment. Then she leaned towards me and whispered, "Maybe Cry can tell you something."
    "Cry? Who is Cry?" Evidently this was a secret, and Tawny was nervous about telling me about it.
    "Ssh!" she cried, and came closer to me and grabbed my hand. "We're not supposed to talk about Cry. She's Mama's crazy younger sister that lives upstairs where we're not supposed to go. But Uncle Eddie always takes me up there to see her, in spite of what Mama wants."
    "Who is Uncle Eddie?" I was very curious. What skeletons was this family trying to hide? I would learn sooner than later.
    "Mama's twin brother," she said. "Cry is very smart." She went on to talk about Cry. "Mama says she's crazy, but Cry is always giving me good advice. And she's always writing in this little journal that she keeps with her. I always wonder what's in it, but she never tells me because she says that it's secrets that I'm not old enough to know yet. She promises to tell me someday, though!"
    "If she's so smart, maybe she'll have the answers I need. Or maybe Uncle Eddie will be able to tell me things." I knew I was getting a bit hopeful by the look in her eyes.
    "Uncle Eddie won't speak much about the past," she said, her shoulders slumping. "He says that it's no longer important because it's now history."
    "Well, maybe I can change his mind about that." She looked sceptical, but I really did hope that I could change his mind. Maybe I could get at least a few answers from him.
    Suddenly, I heard Felicity yell for Tawny, who looked as if she'd been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. I had a feeling that Felicity was a bit harsher on her than the other children, though I couldn't imagine why.
    "Tawny! What are you doing in here?" Felicity demanded as she peeked in and saw her oldest daughter standing next to me.
    "Nothing, Mama. I was just introducing myself to my other brother." When Felicity began to give me the evil eye, Tawny quickly intercepted. "Kylie told me about him, so I decided to come see."
    "Well, it wasn't Kylie's place to tell you anything about him. But I guess you know now, so no point in dwelling on it." She said the words, but I could see in her eyes that something or someone annoyed her.
    Then she turned to me. "I would appreciate it if you didn't entertain any of the young women in this house in your bedroom alone. It's not…" She paused a moment. "It's not right."
    I didn't know what she feared about it, but I decided that maybe it was a good idea to listen to her for a bit, although, it was difficult for me to kick Tawny out. I was enjoying her, but added to that, she was the key to the family's past. She probably knew what the walls would say if they could talk.
    And what would a key be without a door? Could Cry or Eddie be the doors to my mysterious past? And my past was mysterious. If it wasn't such a big secret, then why didn't I already know? Why was it so hard for my mother to tell me the truth about myself? A million questions flew through my mind all at once. And there were only a handful of people that could answer them.
    I stayed in the room, pondering over things, until I heard a knock sometime during the early evening. I opened the door to see Kylie standing out there like an annoyed messenger. Her blue-green eyes looked at me with disgust. By the way she was looking at me, you would think I had personally insulted her, not her stepmother. Weren't stepmothers supposed to be evil, anyway?
    "Dinner will be ready in about forty-five minutes. We don't dress up for dinner, but Felicity prefers that we are dress nicely. Be ready and come down," she announced, and then left quickly.
    I sighed, and began my search for something nice to wear. I didn't know what nice was, really, so I simply chose a pair of black slacks and a blue button-down shirt, tucked in, of course. It was what Aunt Diane usually dragged me to church in. She swore that I still had to go, even if my mother didn't. She said that I had plenty of sins to beg God for forgiveness for the rest of my life. But didn't we all?
    I brushed my hair off to the side and slightly back. I had quite a bit of hair. Mom had always said that my hair was beautiful, and she was jealous of its dark gold beauty. I kept it long for her, mostly, and eventually I began to enjoy the look. I could pull it back in a small ponytail at the nape of my neck, as I did now.
    It wasn't until I walked out of the room that I realised that I had no idea where the dining room was. I stood there, feeling like an idiot for a moment. There were two options; I could go on a search and look like a moron when somebody found me, or I could stand there and be late, hoping that somebody would come get me.
    I didn't have to do either, fortunately. Just as I was about to make the decision to search for the dining room, Tawny came down the hall. I was glad to see that I hadn't overdressed or underdressed. She wore a plain, cream-coloured, tea-length dress with cropped sleeves. She smiled her pretty smile when she saw me, and offered her arm. "I'll show you to the dining room. I know you probably don't know what you're even doing!" She seemed to always be enthusiastic when she spoke, making everything larger than life. She was a joy to be around, making the entire world optimistic, no matter how pessimistic most people were.
    I laughed. "You're right. I was just about to go on a search when you came down the hall. Thank goodness for guardian angels." I winked at her, and she blushed.
    "Oh, I'm no angel. I'm probably the most damned of us all," she said, her eyes dark and serious for a moment. The look changed before I could really tell what she was feeling, and soon I was being pulled down the stairs and into the dining room.
    Kylie was the only one sitting at the table, waiting for everyone. She looked so beautiful in her crimson dress. It had a square neckline with a teardrop shape to show off some of her small cleavage. Her hair was swept up with a few strands falling in her face, and I swore then and there that I'd never seen a more beautiful woman in all my life. Though I wasn't about to tell her that. I was positive that she knew how good she looked, and didn't need any ego boosting.
    I thought I saw her eyes look appreciative for a moment before she spoke. I even thought I'd seen a smile at the corner of her lips, just waiting to be unlocked. "You can sit besides Tomas." She pointed to the chair opposite to her. "He sits directly across from Tawny, and on the side closer to Felicity Kimberly sits. I sit next to my father, and Tawny sits beside me. You can sit next to my father as well, seeing there are no more seats beside your mother."
    "It doesn't really matter where I sit. You could throw me to the servants' quarters and I wouldn't care."
    Her eyes grew dark and icy at my words. "What kind of family do you think we are? We take care of our own, here, whether you think so or not," she declared. It was almost sweet the way she defended her family. But I had a feeling my mother was sort of an idol to her, and she tried too hard to be just like her.
    "If the whole family is taken care of and loved, then where does Eddie sit during dinnertime?" Her mouth dropped at my mention of Eddie, and she shot a glance at Tawny. Tawny looked away quickly, though she looked at me, her eyes almost asking me why I'd said that. I felt guilty right away.
    "Eddie chooses to eat by himself. We never told him he couldn't eat here," she nearly whispered. "If I were you, I wouldn't try mingling in affairs you know nothing about."
    I wanted so to agree with her, but then again, she was angering me with her uptight ways. She was treating me like an idiot. "Oh, is that one of the family's dirty little secrets?"
    Her face turned the same colour as her dress, and I could see her eyes almost glowing red with anger. But before she could retort, Felicity came in the room on her husband's arm, her children following suit. She looked at me almost as if she'd forgot I was there.
    But something in her eyes lit up, and then darkened. She almost seemed to recognise me as a different person, and I saw her swallow. I also noticed that her husband, all too obviously Kylie's father, looked at me with annoyance. It almost seemed as if he was sure I had come to tear apart their family. But who knew, maybe I was there for that.
    Felicity sat down, and we all said grace. It was the only thing that I was used to at this dinner. Other than that, I felt as if I was at some fancy restaurant. The food was rich, and had names I didn't recognise. That night we had French, which was the first time I'd ever eaten French foods. They were all delicious, but almost a bit too rich for my stomach. I felt sick before dessert even arrived, but I managed to pretend otherwise.
    The only conversation that went on was Tomas and Kimberly talking about school. I saw the way Tawny looked at them with jealousy, but I didn't understand why. Didn't she attend the same school as Tomas? Why would she be any less popular than he was? Or maybe it was because of the attention Felicity doted on the two younger children, but hardly even glanced at her.
    I kept my mouth shut during dinner. I observed from my place almost completely in the centre of the table. I couldn't imagine how Felicity or David could ever hear Tomas or Kimberly. They seemed to sit so far away at the very ends of the table that sat at least twenty people. But I guessed that they were pretty used to it.
    After dinner was over, I followed Tawny outside. She didn't seem to notice me at first, so I was able to watch her stand on the porch and stare out at the sea. Her eyes held such sadness for someone so young. And it made me wonder why they looked like that when she was so rich, and money could buy her anything she wanted.
    "I know you're watching me," she said, and turned around to smile. "I bet you're wondering why I'm so sad, huh?"
    I nodded. "You have such a brilliant light about you, Tawny. I definitely wonder what could bring you back down to earth with the rest of us common folk."
    She smiled tightly, and looked away again. "Mama doesn't love me the way she loves Tomas and Kimberly. In fact, she makes me stay home from school. She has me home-schooled. She swears that I shouldn't be exposed to other children. There is no telling what might happen." She sighed. "She's never said that to me, but I heard her mention it to Daddy once. He's the same way towards me, though. That's why I like Cry and Uncle Eddie so much. I feel like one of them. I feel like an outcast, just like they are."
    Suddenly, I felt sadder for Tawny than myself. Sure, I didn't know anything about my past. But here was a little girl who had grown up with secrets surrounding her, and who had been treated like an outcast by her own parents, by her very own family. I couldn't understand why Felicity would treat her so differently than her other children. But then again, I still didn't even know why she'd given me away.
    I felt a kind of kinship with Tawny from then on. I didn't know exactly how she felt, but I could imagine it wasn't much better feeling than how I felt. She knew who she was, and she was miserable. I didn't know who I was, but I at least had good memories of the woman who had raised me, and even some with Aunt Diane. Tawny was, sadly, a loner in her own family.
    And I vowed, silently, that I would take care of Tawny forever. I would never let anything bring her magnificent personality down to the ground. And I would get to the bottom of it for her. I would find out why they seemed to hardly care about her, while they doted upon their other children. And I wouldn't rest until I knew the truth about myself, and the girl who was supposedly my little sister, though I had different ideas.

CHAPTER THREE

I knew that Felicity tried to avoid me. I spotted her several times leaving a room should she see me in it. It made me wonder further what she had to hide. All I wanted to know about my birth, about her and my birth father. Why did she have to make such a big deal about it? I didn't think that it was much to ask. I hadn't come here with cruel intentions.
    Finally, one day I looked out the large window in my room to see her sitting by herself in the gazebo. She was reading, so I knew that she would probably be out there for a while. I got up and made my out to where she sat. As I walked towards the large, white gazebo, I studied her.
    There was no denying that she was beautiful. She was also still very young, having been only sixteen when she'd given birth to me. Her youth was still in her face, though lines about her lips showed that she'd had much to stress about in her life. For a moment I thought about turning around and giving her the time she'd begged me for. But I had been there for two weeks with hardly a word coming from her my way. If I didn't step up to her again, I had a feeling I would never know.
    I stepped into the gazebo, and she looked up from whatever she was reading. I didn't know what she was feeling; she always managed to hold all of her feelings back from showing in her bright blue eyes. She had complete control of herself outside, but I had a feeling there was more of a turmoil going on inside of her than she cared to admit.
    "I need to know at least some of it." I didn't bother to sit. I wanted to block her only way of getting away from me. "I'm not even asking for the entire story, just a bit of it. I want to know who I am."
    "My words will not change the person you are, Travis." She looked at me, and I could tell her words were heartfelt. "You're a grown man now, and you know who you are. I had no hand in the man you've become."
    "Is it so hard for you to at least tell me part of my own past? I deserve it!" Had I come out here on a pointless journey?
    She looked at me with questioning eyes. "Why do you deserve it? You've never done anything for me, and I've never done anything for you. All you've done is come back into my life to remind me of things I'd thought were buried and dead."
    Her words stung more than I'd expected. "Maybe I don't deserve it," I admitted. "But it's part of who I am, and I want to know about my real family's past."
    "Do you honestly want to know what kind of woman I am?" I could see the tears in her eyes that she was holding back. "Do you honestly want to hear about how my sister's husband took advantage of me, beat me, raped me?"
    I swallowed. Her words made me realise why it was so hard for her to tell me about it. I felt the guilt swell up within me, and I looked away. "I'm sorry. I had no idea."
    "No, you didn't. And you couldn't even give me the time I needed to tell you about it. Whoever raised you made you a demanding, impudent little brat." I knew she was hurt, so I didn't say anything. She threw down the box of what looked like love letters, and all of the old envelopes went everywhere.
    The letters were from different people from over a number amount of years. I picked them up and put them back in the box, until I picked up the one with Mom's name on it. It was dated back to when I was five years old. I opened the envelope, but the letter wasn't in there. On the bench where she'd been sitting and reading were a few pieces of paper blowing gently in the wind. I knew that she had been out here thinking about me, and I felt even guiltier.
    I thought all of the papers were to one letter, but they were two different letters. I picked up Felicity's first, deciding to read whatever she'd had to write first.

Dear whomever this may concern,
    I don't really know where my son is. I suppose I have no right to claim him as mine anymore, but I did give birth to him, and I don't know what else to call him. Although I don't remember much about my pregnancy, maybe I just block all of it out, but I do know that he is mine and that Diane Morton took him away.
    I just want to know what he looks like, how good he does in school; this would be his first year. I want to know his likes, his dislikes. I know that I gave up my rights to know these things the day I signed him away, but I had no choice. If I could have kept him with me, I would have. I do love him, even though it's been five long years. I've even got him a birthday gift for every one of those years, though I fear sending them.
    Even if you can't tell me much about him, can I at least have a picture? I just want to see the beautiful little baby all grown up. I'm sure you'll agree that he was a lovely baby. I'm sure he is a spectacular little boy.
    Well, that is about all I can really say. I hope that you fulfil my small requests. If you can't, I understand that, too, as painful as it is. I'm sorry if this is only a mere annoyance to you. Please, don't respond unless you have good news for me.
    Sincerely,
    Felicity Lavigne

    She had written Mom first. She had been interested in me. I hadn't been wiped from her mind the moment my life had been signed away to another woman to be raised. Why, then, did she act surprised and even upset that I showed up now? I looked to the other letter, hoping to find my answers.

Dear Felicity,
    My name is Annie Lowell. The boy's name is Travis Lowell. You need to understand that, and get over the fact that you gave him away. I am his mother now, not you. You have no right sending me any kind of letter asking for any information about that. Did you know that I could call the police on you about that? That is against the law. You even signed something saying you understood that the day you signed him away to me.
    Who do you think you are sending me a letter making any such requests to me? We are strangers to you, and that is how we will remain. You should just go on and pretend that he doesn't exist. He doesn't exist in your world, and never will. He will never know about you, and never love you. He loves me, and sees only me as his mother. That is how it shall remain. I never want to hear from you again.
    Annie Lowell

    Mom's letter wasn't in the least bit nice. I was surprised that she'd even signed it. I could feel her fear of Felicity coming to take me away coming through the letters on the pages. But I understood now. Mom's cruelty towards Felicity honestly surprised me. I hadn't thought my mother had it in her to be so heartless.
    I was about to fold up the papers and slip them back into their envelope when I saw something that chilled my heart and made me hurt for Felicity. On the bench lay an old picture of me, only, my head had been cut out of it. It was an obvious taunt. For the first time in my life, I didn't like the woman who'd raised me. What right had she to be cruel to my birth mother? Felicity had specifically asked that she not respond unless it was with good news, if it wasn't she would never have written again. What was the mean attitude for? It wasn't like my birth mother had been trying to take me from her.
    I finished putting all of the letters into the box, all the while feeling guilty for being mean to her. I lifted the box and began to walk towards the house. But as I was making my way out of the gazebo, Kylie came speeding up, anger flashing in her beautiful eyes. "What did you do or say to her?" she demanded. "Why did you make her cry? Does it give you some sick pleasure to make people hurt?"
    I shook my head. "No, it doesn't. And you're right. I should have understood and backed off, and I'm sorry that I didn't. I have to go speak with my mother now."
    I really didn't feel like fighting with her highness. Kylie had an air about her, a sort of vibe that told the world that she was higher than most, and would get whatever she wanted when she wanted. I loved to admire her beauty, but I couldn't stand the fact that she felt so far above everyone. But all in one breath, I admired her for her loyalty to her family, even to a mother who wasn't hers.
    It wasn't hard to find Felicity. She sat in an old room where a large portrait of a beautiful, raven-haired woman hung like some ghostly presence. I already knew that Felicity often sat in there to think, staring up at the picture with hatred in her eyes. I had witnessed her doing just that several times.
    I looked in to see her sitting in the high-backed leather chair with her head bent down. Her shoulders slumped in some sort of defeat, and she looked so miserable. Not even Mom had ever looked to be that convincingly miserable. It made me wonder how often she faked her suicides. And, if she did, why would she do such a thing?
    I knocked softly before entering. At first, she didn't speak or even turn around, so I knocked a little louder. "Felicity, Mother, I don't know what to call you. But I came here to apologise."
    "Go away," she whispered so softly I didn't hear it at first. "Go away! Just go away and leave me alone!" she yelled, as her voice was choked with tears.
    I was about to leave, but I noticed her jerky movements for the first time. Concerned, I walked over to look over the chair. What I saw made me sick to my stomach, even while it brought back memories.
    Blood covered her arms, even while she continuously slashed at her arms with a knife she must have got from the kitchen. Tears ran down her cheeks and mixed with the blood on her arms, but I knew that she wasn't crying because of the pain she inflicted upon herself. She was crying because I'd made her cry.
    "Stop that! What are you doing?" I screamed, and snatched the knife from her hands. I held the knife away from her as she looked up at me with eyes so dark with painful secrets of the heart that I almost felt like handing her back the knife and letting her get rid of it the way she wanted to.
    "Give it back to me, you little fool!" she screamed. "Don't meddle in things you don't understand! Haven't you learned that yet?"
    "I won't let you hurt yourself. Especially not because of me." I threw the knife towards the door just as Kylie came in. She looked at the knife, Felicity and I. Her eyes widened, and I knew what she thought. "No, Kylie, this isn't what you think!"
    She came at me before my words were even out. She pounded at my chest until I grabbed her wrists and prevented her from hitting me. She kicked me hard in the shin, and I let her go to grab it. She shoved me hard, and I fell into the giant fireplace. She held one of the many lit candles above me, breathing hard.
    "Kylie, you don't understand. Please, don't do that." I was breathing heavy, and had hurt my back severely when I'd fallen. I couldn't move and was completely vulnerable. I silently begged Felicity to wake up.
    "You come in here, trying to murder my stepmother, and you expect me not to burn you to death?" she laughed. "You deserve to die, you scum!"
    "Kylie, wait!" I saw David, my mother's husband, come up behind her and grab the candle from her, along with prying her hand off the gas knob that she was threatening to turn on. Well, more than threatening, she had already turned the gas up.
    Kylie turned towards her father, and looked at him with fire in her eyes. "He tried to kill your wife and you protect him? You really are a nutcase!"
    "He didn't try to kill her. He stopped her from hurting herself. She was cutting herself again." David looked down at Felicity. "Go get a bowl of warm water, a needle and thread, and a washcloth."
    Kylie, glancing an angry look my way, left the room to do as she was told. She left cautiously, and I could tell that she still didn't believe either of us. At the door, she turned a suspicious look our way and then left.
    David turned to me, and held his hand out. I shook my head. "No, she really hurt my back when she shoved me. I can't move."
    "The girl has some power," he said, shaking his head. "She needs to learn to listen to people before using it, however."
    He helped me up and out of the fireplace. I was covered in soot, and my back was throbbing. David took a quick look at it, and noticed a gash across my lower back. He promised to take care of that, along with my mother.
    I could tell by the way he took care of my now limp mother that she had done this before. She just lay there as he cleaned her up, tears still streaking her face. He spoke softly to her; trying to ease whatever pain she was in. There was no numbing solution, yet she acted as if the needle he poked into her skin to make stitches didn't even matter.
    "Are you qualified to do that?" I asked, raising my eyebrow.
    He laughed. "Yes, I am. When I first came to live here I decided to go to school. I wanted to be able to take care of my daughter on my own, especially after her mother died. However, after I married Felicity, I never put my education to use. I began to help Felicity out with the family's candy business."
    My mouth made the shape of an "o", but no sound came out. "How did you come to live here? Were you two dating?"
    He shot a glance at me over his shoulder. "I wouldn't worry about that if I were you. It has nothing to do with you."
    He wasn't cruel in any way when he said it. I just accepted the fact that he didn't think I needed to know. After all, he was right, it had nothing to do with me. My mother's love life with her husband was none of my business.
    David lifted my shirt and washed off the wound. "Just go take a quick shower so that it won't get infected. It's not deep enough for stitches. I'll have it bandaged afterward. Right now I have to take Felicity to her room and go talk to Kylie about this. She didn't know about Felicity's mental illness."
    He lifted her up as if she weighed no more than a baby and left the room. I followed suit, going to my room. The hot water stung my back something fierce, and I realised quickly that the cut ran all the way around to my left hip. I was in a lot of pain, and cursed Kylie several times.
    I wrapped a towel around my hips loosely and got out. I wasn't bleeding anymore but the cut was painful. I wanted to hate her for it. I couldn't, though. She didn't know, and she'd only been protecting Felicity. But that seemed to be the only thing she did these days, and it was rather annoying.
    I waited for David to come up, and when there was finally a knock on the door, I answered it with only the towel still around my hips. Imagine my surprise and embarrassment when I saw Kylie standing there with bandages and medicine in her hands. Her face turned red, but she held her composure. "I came to make peace," she said, holding her hands up in the air while holding tightly to the bandages. "I'm sorry for what I did, I should have listened."
    "It's alright," I said softly. It was easy to get back my dignity while she was pretending that I wasn't standing there completely naked except for a towel. "You're sure you're not going to hurt me with those scissors, right?"
    She laughed. "No, I brought them in so I could help my father bandage up your back. He'll be here any minute."
    I felt relieved that somebody else would be in the room. I didn't feel comfortable with just us two. I didn't know how my body would react should she be the one touching me and bandaging me. I was already attracted to her enough as it was. Her being nice to me was only adding to it, and I had to think of other things to keep myself "proper" in front of her.
    Finally, David came into the room, and the two bandaged me up. I knew I looked ridiculous with a bandage with went all the way around my hips. I felt like an idiot, but so did Kylie, considering she was the one who had caused it. Her guilt shined in her eyes even as she apologised over and over again.
    After they finished, David disappeared from the room quickly. Kylie stood in front of me with her shoulders slumped and her head down. "I'm so sorry, Travis. It's just that ever since you got here, Felicity has been so depressed. Not that she's some happy-go-lucky person, but I don't remember her ever being like this."
    "She's just reliving things she'd meant to forget. It's not my fault," I insisted. But I knew that part of it really was.
    "But you are part of what she doesn't want to relive. If you really care about your past, then why won't you just leave and write her a letter? I'm sure seeing you isn't helping." I had assumed too soon that Kylie would be kind to me. But her thoughts always drifted back to the way Felicity felt. My feelings meant nothing to any of this family. But why should they? They didn't know me.
    "I can't leave now, Kylie. I need to know things about me, and nobody can tell me them. I can't depend on her to just send me a letter with everything in it. I deserve to be here as much as anyone else." I felt mean and wanted to lash out at her. "At least I'm blood."
    Her mouth dropped, and her eyes were a mixture of anger and hurt. "How dare you?" She shook her head in disbelief. "I may not be blood, but at least my real mother didn't just give me away. At least my real mother died before some other woman became my mother."
    Her words were harsh and true. She left the room in a huff. I watched her go, feeling every sting of every word. What bothered me the most was the woman who had adopted her had been the mother who had given me away.

CHAPTER FOUR

Kylie and I had nothing more to say to each other from then on. When I was in her presence, I felt suffocated by the cold, hard truth she had so generously thrown at me. Every time I saw her, I was reminded that she had been a child loved and wanted by her real family and her adopted family. My real family still didn't even want to believe that I was here.
    I suddenly knew exactly how Tawny felt. Tawny, the outcast of her family. How often at night, while she lay in bed, did she think about all of the things she may have done to make them hate her so? I knew, in my heart, that I hadn't done anything but be born. But so had she. So why was it that we just happened to be born at the wrong time? Why did they hate us so much?
    Every year the family threw a huge garden party. Although I was there, I wasn't really introduced to anyone. Many of the younger girls watched me from corners, giggling, but nobody approached. I seemed to be the untouchable. I existed, but then again, I didn't. And none of my "family" seemed to want to invite me into any conversation, much less introduce me.
    "You're like me," I heard as I stood by the giant punch bowls. I turned to see Tawny standing behind me. She was dressed up, as was I, but nobody approached her either.
    "How am I like you?" I knew the answer, but I wanted to know if she felt it exactly the way I did.
    She smiled sadly. "They see you, but they'd rather pretend you don't exist." She sighed. "Maybe it's better we don't mingle with those who don't really like us anyway."
    "Then I should just shut up around everyone, because God knows the only people I have left for a family don't even like me. Felicity likes to pretend I'm not real." Sometimes I felt like I was talking to someone years older than Tawny.
    "It's not about liking you," she said, coming up beside me. I noticed how tall she was, especially for a twelve-year-old. "It's about trying to hide from some sort of sordid past. The children don't know about it, but they follow their parents' lead. And it's the parents who want to forget you ever happened."
    "How does that involve you, then? You were born here. You're Felicity's own."
    She looked up at me, her eyes wise and old for someone so young. "I wonder if that's so true. I've been asking Uncle Eddie questions like that for years now. But he insists that my mother just doesn't know how to express her feelings for an unexpected child such as myself." She shook her head, a smirk upon her pretty lips.
    "I find that very hard to believe," I muttered. "So if you know deep in your heart that you're not Felicity's daughter, why don't you ask her about it?"
    "What am I supposed to say?" she asked. "She won't even tell you anything. What makes you think she'd tell me?"
    I shrugged. "That's true. But it's a worth a shot. At least I know who my real mother is."
    She nodded. "That's true." She crossed her arms over her breasts and looked at the ground. "I thought I did. But as I've got older, I've noticed the truth of things. I just don't have any answers to a million questions."
    I put a hand on her shoulder. "Slow down on growing up, Tawny. It goes too fast. Right now, take advantage of all of the riches you were born into. Don't worry too much about the family. Hell, take advantage of them."
    Tears were in her eyes when she looked at me. "Don't you think I've tried that? It just weighs so heavily on my mind. It's too late. It's already made me old."
    I felt sorry for her as she trudged away, her head down. How could someone so young feel so miserable? I hadn't thought that depression could hit children. But then again, it was very difficult to view Tawny as a child. She not only acted older, she looked older.
    I was about to go after her, when Kylie caught up with her. I noticed that out of everyone, Kylie treated her differently. Kylie could actually get her to smile and laugh. It amazed me to see the two of them together because Tawny seemed to be a different person. She became someone happy and joyous again, rather than brooding around the house. Her enthusiasm I had first witnessed had been an act. I knew the real Tawny now. But Kylie was always able to bring out the girl I'd first met.
    I left the party before it ended. I had no business there. Only the family did. It felt far too late for me to become one of them. I had stopped demanding Felicity tell me the things I wanted to know. The curiosity never left me, but I never wanted to feel as if I caused her to harm herself again.
    After the incident with my mother, David treated me differently. He began to act as if it had all been my fault. He must have talked to my mother, who had told him what had happened to make her so upset. Ever since then he'd acted as if I was some monster. It was all right, I didn't like the way he treated my mother, anyway.
    It didn't take me long to decide that I didn't like my birth mother's husband. He seemed to hover over her, fearing she may do something without him. He was always there, especially when she spoke to men. He was a jealous man, and I could see that easily. He may have loved my mother, but his way of showing it made me angry. He seemed to be another reason she was reluctant to tell me the secrets that I needed to be told.
    I saw David's looks of disgust and hatred coming my way on more than one occasion. I wasn't the only one who noticed it, either. Even his own daughter had the nerve to ask him, in front of me at dinner one evening, why he was always giving me nasty looks and making crude comments that might hurt my feelings, along with Felicity's.
    "Why do you do that?" she demanded to know. She wasn't one afraid to speak her mind, and I had a feeling she'd gained her confidence from Felicity.
    He looked at her a bit bewildered. "Do what?"
    "Give Travis nasty looks. You also make very rude comments towards him that may offend Felicity as well. If you have something to say, why don't you just say it?"
    "Must we start this at dinner, Kylie? It's not the right place for it," he insisted, glancing at Tomas and Kimberly at the other end of the table.
    "Send them away then," she snapped. "It's an issue that needs to be discussed. I'm so fed up with pussy-footing around all of this!"
    "Enough of this, Kylie Ann!" he bellowed threateningly. "Maybe you should be the one to leave the dinner table."
    She wiped delicately at her lips with her napkin and threw it down. She pushed back her chair and got up. "Gladly, David. I don't want to be around somebody so insecure, anyway."
    She left the room with David fuming. I just sat there; surprised that she had spoken to her own father like that. She had also used his name. I didn't know what to say or think about the fact that she had been, in some strange way, defending me. I quickly got up to follow her.
    I found her on the sun porch. It was a large room off the side of the house. It was made of nothing more than windows. Flowers basked in the warmth of the sun during the day, even while there was a perfect view of the ocean crashing against the rocks.
    Kylie stood, staring out the windows. Even though the sun was almost completely sunken into the ocean, I could see the tears on her cheeks. She knew that I was here, but she didn't turn to me. She didn't try to hide her crying, either.
    "I never meant to make trouble between you and your family, Kylie," I started, making a step toward her. "You're right. I don't belong here. I should go home."
    She shook her head, her lips pulled into her cheeks while she shook her head. She had a strange, sad smile on her face. "No, you belong here, too. This family belongs to you as much as it does me."
    "Why did you change your mind so suddenly?" I sat down on the porch swing, and she came to sit beside me.
    "Because I see the way you are with Tawny. I see the good in you. You deserve to know your family, Travis." She looked down at her hands. "I'm ashamed of myself for being so rude to you and trying to make you leave."
    "You had every right," I insisted. "I was a total jerk, to you and Felicity."
    "Well, yes, that is true," she laughed. "But you're a good person, and you have backed off of her. It's her turn to make a move now."
    She left me out there to think. I hadn't meant to make trouble between her and her father, just as I'd told her. I didn't understand why he didn't like me. But I knew there was no way to change his feelings for me. Kylie could bite his head off all she wanted; he would never change his views on me. The question was why?
    But then again, there were a lot of "whys" in my life. I was beginning to pick and choose which ones were the most important to deal with first. David's attitude wasn't at the top of my priority list. How strange that his attitude had so much to do with where I came from.
    I didn't know how long I was out there. The moon was now the only light on the porch, and yet I didn't feel like moving. I just sat out there, thinking over my entire life, and wishing I knew more about myself. How little I really knew. How ironic that I'd assumed that Mom had told me my entire reason for being. All of it had seemed like a fairytale. Strangely, it had been.
    I turned when I heard footsteps behind me. I turned to see Tawny standing there, the moonlight illuminating her over-developed figure and shining off her raven hair. She really was exotically beautiful. Sometimes I had to remind myself that we were related, in one way another. Secretly, I hoped that we weren't. But our eyes were the same colour. It only proved that we were, for I'd never seen anyone outside of this family with such a crystal clear blue.
    I also knew that it was wrong to think of her in such a way because she was only a twelve-year-old girl. But it was hard to think of her as that as well because she appeared and acted so much older. I wasn't into child molestation, and I wasn't about to get into it.
    "I was thinking, after the scene at dinner tonight, that I might take you up to see Cry, now. I mean, she is a little crazy, but maybe she can provide some answers to some questions, right?" She stood there, waiting for me to either tell her to leave or to get up and go with her.
    I got up and walked to her. "I think that I'd like it very much if you'd take me to see her."
    She nodded, and turned. She silently led me up the back stairs through the kitchen. When we got to the end of the hall on the second storey, she pulled out a key and unlocked the door. She led me up another flight of stairs and into a room that was painted a bright, pale yellow. Two small windows looked out over trees, and there were two lamps lit to make the light shine as brightly as the sun.
    It was a plain room. There was a single, double-size bed lying between the windows. It was made up nicely, with a bright blue blanket pulled back slightly to reveal white sheets. There were many pillows in different colours decorating the bed, with a teddy bear in the centre. There was a nightstand just off to the side of the bed, where another brightly lit lamp stood.
    The room was spotlessly clean. There weren't any clothes sticking out of the small dresser against the far wall across from the bed, and there was nothing on top of it, either. There were no mirrors in the room, either. No vanity table so that Cry could get herself ready for the day. But then again, whom would she ready herself for?
    I didn't think anyone was even in the room at first, but out of the corner of my eye, I saw someone rocking in an old wooden rocking chair. Her hair, the same jet-black as Tawny's, was pulled back into a loose braid that hung down her back. She wore a simple, white nightgown with a small pink ribbon at the collar for some colour. Over it, she wore a pink cotton robe. She turned to see us standing there, and smiled. "Hello," she said softly. "It's very nice to have visitors. I'm so very glad you came."
    "Hello, Cry. Have you already forgot me and what I discussed with you?" Tawny had a hurt look on her face when Cry continued to stare at her with a blank expression.
    "I was just up here, Cry. My name is Tawny. I am your sister Felicity's daughter. This is Felicity's son, my brother Travis. I told you that I was going to bring him up to see you, and you said that would be great." She looked about ready to shake some sense into her.
    "Oh, well, if you say that you told me that, miss, then you must have, right? I just forget things so easily these days. So damned easily," Cry muttered, rocking back and forth, back and forth while staring at her hands.
    "Mama says that Cry has got worse since she was younger. That's why she put her up here. Mama was afraid that Cry would hurt herself if she didn't put her in an environment with nothing but essentials," Tawny told me before going to sit at Cry's feet. "Mama told me that I shouldn't come see her, that none of us should. But I do anyway. I love to be around Cry. She needs people."
    I had a feeling that Cry couldn't tell me anything about myself. But it was touching to see the way Tawny was with her. She truly seemed to love the woman. And it made me wonder if love between mother and child just came natural. Maybe, somehow, Tawny loved Cry dearly because there was some incredible link between them that told her that this was her true mother.
    And it was so very obvious that Cry was Tawny's real mother. Tawny was identical. Just as Cry was identical to the woman in the picture of the room Felicity had gone crazy in. I hadn't entered the room since, not wanting to remember such a thing. Plus, it made my back hurt just remembering.
    Cry didn't speak to me at all. I just sat and watched silently. I observed the two together, and it occurred to me that maybe Cry didn't seem to realise that Tawny was her child. How could somebody not even remember having a child, especially the woman who carried it? It was rather tragic how she had lost her memories. What had made this beautiful woman go so insane that her mind just refused to remember the important events in her life?
    Tawny spoke to me every now and then, but I believed, deep in my heart, that she knew the truth. Why else would she spend so much time trying to make a crazy woman remember her? I'd never witnessed anyone so caring.
    Soon, Tawny was putting Cry into her bed. Cry smiled weakly at her as she shut her eyes. "Sing to me, please I do remember that I love to hear you sing."
    Tawny looked at me, a bit embarrassed. But she did as she was asked. "You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy, when skies are grey…"
    When we left there, we walked back down silently. After we were back down onto the first floor, Tawny turned to me. "She's the only person I know who doesn't hate me. Even when she forgets who I am, she still treats me as if she loves me. I know she may not be any help to you, but maybe one day she can tell me the truth of who I am."
    I so wanted that to be true for her. I wanted Cry to be able to remember everything of the past. I wanted her to be able to tell her daughter who she was. Tawny went through the same things as I did, in a family that was supposed to be hers. But she was adopted. But if she was so willingly adopted, why was she such an outcast?
    I had so much more to learn in those days. Maybe I didn't really understand what I was tampering with. Maybe I should have let things lie. But at the time, that wasn't what I was thinking about. I didn't want to let sleeping dogs lie. I wanted to know the truth. The past needed to be brought to the present.
    In a strange way, I had become fate's cruel game piece. As fate toyed with the family, fighting against them to hide their secrets, I had come to bring them to surface. And maybe that was why my birth mother's eyes would darken every time she saw me. She knew the truth would soon be revealed. And with that came the thought of other deep, dark secrets being unburied. And, as mean as it seemed, I only wanted to help fate with its game and bring it all to light.

CHAPTER FIVE

As a child, I was never one to assume that Mom was crazy. I was just told that she was abnormal. We never had a television in the house, and I'd never known any other kind of family. In my mind, my family was picture perfect. I had a mother who doted all of her time on me, and loved me. We had a nice home, food to eat, nice clothes to wear. It was perfect living.
    Mom used to tell me that I should never take what we had for granted. Some people actually had to work to provide for us. Her father, my grandfather, had been a hard-working man, who had earned his way in life. Now his family had so much money we were able to live off of it. But I was never to take advantage of what we had. She refused to see her father's hard-earned fortune go to waste on selfishness.
    Sometimes, Mom was normal. I knew that at one time she had been. She had even been her high school's homecoming queen and prom queen. She had been that beautiful. She had been the most popular girl in her entire school. She was hated by some, but loved by most. What had driven her to a hermit's life always puzzled me. But I never asked. I just accepted. She was my mother, and I was her son. We were all we really needed in the world.
    "Someday, Travis, you'll leave me. I hope that you'll only have good stories to tell about me to people," she once told me as she cut apples to make one of her delicious apple pies.
    "I'll never leave you, Mom. I love you too much. And it makes me sad to think of you in this big, lonely house all by yourself," I told her, as I sat upon a barstool next to her.
    She smiled at me as she continued to cut. "Someday you'll meet a girl you'll want to marry, and you'll have to leave me," she insisted.
    I shook my head. I was only eight years old. Why would she be thinking about such a thing right now? "No, Mom, I won't ever get married. You're the only girl I'll ever like!"
    She laughed. "You think that now, my love, but you'll change your mind someday. I promise."
    It made me sad to think about now. She had been so sure that I would leave her. But she had been the one to go first. I'd been the one to be left alone in that big, lonely house. And just as I'd promised her, I never had wanted to be around anyone else. I was happy living my life beside her, in the same hermit way she did.
    It made Aunt Diane sick to see me out of high school and still sticking close to my mother. She said I probably had sick thoughts about Mom. She insisted that I was sinful and disgusting. She often made Mom cry about that, too, blaming her for my odysseys.
    "If you would just be normal, Annie, he wouldn't be so strange. And the thing is, I see the way he looks at you. He is a young man now, not a little boy. He has filthy thoughts in his head, and I know they're about you!" she would declare as she swelled up like a balloon, her forefinger high in the air.
    To be honest, I'd never really thought about it. Sure, I'd hit puberty, and I was a man now. But it was different with me. I was just content with who I was. I just couldn't get myself to like any girls. They all seemed stupid to me, so I chose to stay away from them all. Mom was the only smart woman I'd never known. And maybe, deep down, I did have feelings for her that were wrong and immoral. But I'd never really thought about it, nor acted upon it.
    But now I was going through immoral and wrong feelings again. Only this time they were at the surface, and hard to deal with. And this time, there were even more reasons for them to be wrong. But as much as I tried, I couldn't get them out of my head.
    I often imagined what it would be like to be with Tawny. I could imagine myself really making her happy, making her smile. I did love to see her smile. It lit up my life during those dreary days. I loved to spend time with her, whether it was talking to her, or watching her with Cry. But she was my cousin, and I knew that it was horrible of me.
    I also, to my own, personal disgust, had begun to like Kylie. Kylie wasn't nearly as untouchable. She was much safer. Yet she didn't excite me the way Tawny did. She was smart, but she didn't seem to hold a candle to Tawny. I found myself having a serious dilemma. There was something in both of them that I was really beginning to fall for. And that only added to my misery.
    I spent a lot of time with Kylie, too. She had an amazing laugh, along with a spice to her that made her fun to be around. She was sassy, fiery and sweet all at once. She was beautiful and intelligent. She was everything a man could want in a woman. Yet her father made her untouchable to me. As did she, keeping a certain amount of distance between us.
    Finally, one day, after I'd been there a good six months, I decided to ask her about it. "Why won't you let me get close to you, Kylie? What are you so afraid of?"
    She looked at me as if she didn't understand at first. But then she sighed, and looked up at the bright blue sky above us. We sat on a grassy patch not far from the stables where we'd just ridden the horses. Her hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail, while strands of it blew gently about her face. She seemed to grab a tighter hold upon her knees.
    She looked down again at me, where I lay on one of my arms, while fumbling with some grass. I looked back at her and met her eyes. She didn't seem as if she was going to answer. I was a little disappointed. I'd never really liked any other girl the way I did her.
    Finally, after turning away again, she sighed. "First off, my father would have a fit at the thought. He already says I spend too much time with you."
    "That's his opinion. You have control over your life, now. Not him. You're not a child." I was hoping that was it, but I knew it wasn't. "What's the second reason?"
    "I don't want to be hurt in this relationship, Travis. I'm not stupid. I see how much time you spend with Tawny as well. She's only a child, but I know how you're feeling. I can see it in your eyes. I don't want to compete with her." She got up, and started to walk towards the house.
    I was hurt by her words - and scared. If Kylie could see it so well, who else could? I hadn't thought that my feelings were written on my face. I wanted to deny them. I knew they were there, but I denied them to myself, as well. I just needed to convince Kylie that what she was seeing wasn't what she thought. If I could be with her, maybe my feelings for Tawny would go away.
    I went to follow her, but stopped when I saw David meet her on the back porch. She spoke to him for a moment, and went inside. He looked suspicious, and looked out among the fields. I hid behind a tree, not wanting him to see me. I was sure Kylie had made some excuse, pretending not to be with me. We often met behind his back. No matter what control she was supposed to have over her own life, the control really didn't exist. David had a firm hand on her.
    He looked for a while longer, and then went back inside. He ran Felicity's family's candy business alongside Felicity. He was the one who dealt with a lot of the business, however, and was gone enough for me to be comfortable with myself. But he was home this evening to be home for the big Halloween party that they were having.
    I didn't have to decide what I'd be for the party. Felicity had the idea to have all of us dress up from the era the house was originally built in. So I was decked out in a full costume from the 1920s. It was actually kind of fun.
    I was one of the first people down in the large ballroom. Felicity was making sure that all of the music was proper, and that the decorations looked right. Fake cobwebs hung from the high ceilings and three chandeliers. A giant spider hung from the centre of the ceiling. The room would be lit mostly by black light, with a few other coloured lights to brighten it up just a bit.
    I had to admit, in spite of giving birth to three children, my birth mother looked fabulous in her cute, silver flapper dress. She wore stiletto heels that really brought out how shapely her legs were, and there was a headband with a large silver feather coming out of it wrapped around her head. Her hair came down in light brown curls to frame her face. She seemed to actually be in a good mood, and smiled when she saw me. By this time, she was getting used to my presence.
    "Well, don't you look absolutely dashing, son!" Her smile was brilliant, but it wasn't the smile that left me speechless. She had called me "son".
    "Well, I…" I didn't know what to say. I was confused by her sudden sweetness to me.
    She actually blushed a bit. "I'm just in such a good mood. And we all know that you're my son, so why pretend otherwise? As someone once reminded me, I am not one to dabble in the fantasy world."
    "You look beautiful," I finally managed to get out. "And thank you for not ignoring me. I've been waiting for that."
    She didn't say anything, but her smile was sweet. For the first time since I'd arrived I felt accepted, at least by my mother. I had befriended Kylie and Tawny, but I hadn't come here for their acceptance and love. I had come here for my mother.
    Guests began to arrive, and Felicity stood at the door, greeting them. The lights had been turned on, and the music had begun. There were few people here, so the dance floor seemed pretty empty.
    But all of the air was sucked from the room the moment I watched Kylie walk in. Her tall, shapely form walked into the room like a 1920s goddess. She was beautiful in a costume that matched Felicity's, only in bright red. And I was suddenly struck by just how much I had really begun to feel.
    She smiled at me, and came over. "I was a bit nervous about getting into this thing. It's not too short, is it?"
    I turned her about, and looked at her. "No, not at all. It's shorter than it is on Felicity, though. But that's because you're so tall."
    "Are you sure? I feel as if my ass is showing." I laughed. She had such an outright way of saying things. It was actually charming to me.
    "So what if it was? I wouldn't mind seeing it," I teased.
    She laughed. "I'm so sure you wouldn't mind. But I can't promise that my father wouldn't be so willing to see it hanging out."
    I shook my head. "Forget your father. He just has a problem because he has such a beautiful daughter."
    She smiled. "Thank you, Travis. I really appreciate it."
    "Appreciate what?"
    She sighed. "Your ego-boosting. I need it!"
    The night started out so well, I was sure nothing could go wrong. It was the first party I felt really invited to. I even talked to some people, and danced with a few girls, including my birth mother. I felt David's eyes on me, but for once, I didn't feel uncomfortable. I simply ignored him.
    But no matter how many girls I danced with, none of them could take my eyes away from Kylie. She was a magnificent creature. She danced, smiled and charmed everyone in there. Nobody could tell that she wasn't truly confident in herself. For some inexplicable reason, that made me proud.
    "She is very taken with you," I suddenly heard beside me as I watched Kylie dance from the candy table. "She has been ever since she met you, in spite of what you may think."
    I turned to look at Felicity standing next to me. "She refuses to be with me, though. And I can't change that. She says David wouldn't agree, and she doesn't want to be hurt."
    Felicity laughed. "Trust me, sweetie, she'll change her mind. She's already half in love with you."
    "How can she be in love with somebody who hardly even knows who he is?" I asked, my head down as I twirled my drink in my glass.
    "Tonight is not the night for that talk, Travis." She rested her hand on my arm. "Just have fun for the night. I think tomorrow we'll have a talk."
    She walked away with her promise hanging in the air behind her. Tomorrow couldn't come soon enough now. Tomorrow she would tell me the things that I needed to so desperately know. The night couldn't be made out to be more perfect.
    Finally, I decided to ask Kylie to dance. I walked over to her, my head held high, my shoulders straight. I knew that she would. There really was no asking about it. But my heart pounded something fierce. I'd never asked someone I really liked to dance with me before.
    "Kylie? May I cut in?" I asked as she danced with a young man to a rather provoking song. I almost turned around and left. She was an amazing dancer, and she was looking very appealing and sexy. I wasn't sure if I could keep my head straight, especially after quite a few glasses of champagne.
    She smiled at me, and then at the young man. Then she gently pushed him away. "Why would you even ask?" she teased, a sly smile on her lips.
    I ended up dancing three dances in a row with her, the last one a slow song. She really was the only one in the room at that time. I could see nothing or no one else. She had me so enraptured it frightened me. I'd never thought to have such strong feelings for someone.
    It was getting very close to the end of the night. It was all seeming so perfect. I'd never let myself drift into such a fairytale world. I was so sure that there would be a fairytale ending. Nothing so wonderful could end disastrously.
    And then, just like that, the magic carpet that I was riding on was ripped out from beneath my feet. I had stepped away for a break from fate's evil little game for this family, and I was about to be added to the play list. The revelations couldn't wait until tomorrow. They wanted to rise, and they wanted to rise right now. And I had no say so in it.

CHAPTER SIX

"Slut!" we all heard screamed from the doorway of the ballroom. Everyone turned to see Cry standing there, looking every bit as insane as she was. Her hair was a mess, tangled in barrettes she'd attempted to put in herself. She had her eye shadows all the way up over her eyebrows, and her lipstick had been put on repeatedly in thick layers to where she appeared to have a clown's mouth.
    I looked over to see Felicity standing not far from her. But she couldn't seem to move from her spot. I don't think any of us could. We were so stunned by this mad woman's sudden entrance.
    From behind her, Tawny came up, pulling and tugging on Cry's arm. "Come on, Cry. We have to get you back upstairs."
    Cry was a lot stronger than Tawny, though, and fought her arm free to come farther into the room. She turned to Felicity. "You're nothing more than a whore, and your whole family knows it. All these years you've thought I've been blind and stupid, but I haven't!"
    "What are you talking about?" Felicity asked, her eyes wide. "Tawny, how the hell did she get out?"
    Tawny looked guilty. "I'm sorry, Mama. I didn't mean to. I was just going up to see her. I didn't know that she was waiting for me to unlock the door!"
    "Don't you call her Mama, young lady!" Cry yelled, turning on Tawny. She was so different from the woman that I'd met. "I'm your mama. Not her! I gave birth to you! She just took you away from me like the selfish bitch she is!"
    Felicity shook her head, tears coming to her eyes. Suddenly, my heart was filled with loyalty, and I rushed to her side. I stood behind her, like a sort of bodyguard. "I'm here if you need me," I whispered to her.
    "Oh, isn't this sweet?" Cry snapped sarcastically. "Mother and son so preciously sticking together. Well, the only reason he was born because you stole your sister's husband. Then you stole the love of my life from me. You are a rotten, backstabbing bitch and I hate you."
    "That's enough," I finally growled, and walked over to her.
    But Tawny stepped in between us. "I will not let you hurt my mother!" she screamed at me, her eyes full of fire and anger.
    "But you'll let her hurt mine? I don't think so; I'm a hell of a lot bigger than you are, Tawny. I think you'll get out of the way." Her eyes widened a bit in fear, and she moved away slowly.
    Cry laughed, and spat out vulgar insults about the family, even as I pulled her from the room. The entire way back up to her room, I couldn't help being angry with David. He hadn't even protected his wife's honour. He had sat there and let her basically ruin my mother in front of a large amount of people. If he didn't like her so much, then why did he marry her?
    Tawny followed me up, and locked Cry in her room after I shoved her in. She screamed and pounded at the door, but I knew she wasn't going to even remotely break the thick, cherry wood door. Her screams were muffled a lot by the door as well.
    I turned to Tawny to see her looking guiltily at the floor. "You didn't just happen to unlock the door and let her out, did you?" I asked. "You knew about this."
    "She told me earlier today about being my real mother. She's told me such horrible things about Felicity! And I know they're true! I just know they are!" she cried, her eyes pouring tears.
    "How do you know? Maybe she has her own side of the story. Would you really trust a crazy woman who can hardly remember her own damn name over a sane one?" I attacked.
    She stopped a moment before answering. "Felicity is nuts, too! That's why when she gets depressed she cuts herself!"
    "That's not nearly like Cry!" I retorted, hardly believing that she was siding with her. "The thing is, Felicity chose to give you a home instead of sending you off to some orphanage where you could have been treated worse! But instead, she gave you all of this!"
    "Or she could have given me away like she did you," she snapped back viciously, her hands on her hips. She looked positively nasty.
    And her words hit a spot that I didn't get a chance to dig too deeply into before Felicity came up the stairs. She obviously heard what Tawny had so cruelly said. "That was uncalled for, Tawny. You don't know any details about that, so I'd suggest you shut up. Not even your mother knows details about that, considering she didn't appear for months after." She put an emphasis on "mother", and looked directly at Tawny. "And he is right. I could have given you up. Your mother slept with so many men, we really don't even know who your real father is. But I kept you because I wanted to give you a chance. After all, none of it was your fault."
    "Cry says that not knowing who my father is, is just as bad as knowing who fathered Travis, because he was your older sister's husband," she said, but her words were softly spoken, and obviously guilt played in her voice.
    "Once again, nothing you know about. Only five people know about what happened, and two of those people are dead. None of them were Cry." Tawny continued to look guilty, and Felicity finally took pity on her. "Get out of here, Tawny. But if you let her out ever again, you will regret it."
    I knew that my birth mother could be a harsh woman. But she only did what she had to. It was no wonder she was so admired by Kylie. But hadn't she moulded Kylie into what she was? Somehow, that didn't seem so bad anymore. Watching Felicity take care of things and keeping her composure, in spite of things said, made me admire and respect her far more than I did before.
    "Cry will always hate me, no matter what I've done for her. I give up on her. If she wasn't Tawny's mother, I'd get rid of her," she muttered.
    "So you knew that Tawny was coming up here? She told me that it was a secret, and that you had forbid all of the children to come up here." It confused me. Why would she keep it so secret if Felicity knew?
    She looked puzzled and concerned, and shook her head. "I fear that Tawny will end up like her mother and aunt in the end. She already seems to suffer from compulsive lying. It's only a matter of time."
    "Aunt?" I asked. "But you're not crazy."
    She shook her head. "Not as crazy as them, maybe," she laughed. "I wasn't referring to myself, though. I was referring to Cry and my older sister, Kassy. They were a lot alike, only Cry suffered from severe nymphomania, whereas Kassy was scared to death of sex."
    "What happened to Kassy?" I was suddenly very intrigued. I'd only heard of this older sister. I'd never been told much about her.
    Felicity began to make her way down the stairs as she spoke. "She ended up killing herself. I haven't seen her husband, Allen, since."
    "Is that…?" I paused, hesitant to ask. "Is that my father?"
    She sighed deeply. "Yes, I'm afraid so. But your birth isn't what Cry made it seem to everyone. Your conception and birth was much darker than that."
    "How much darker?" I prodded on, hoping to catch a little bit more of what she was willing to tell.
    "Well, it sent me to a mental clinic for months on end for depression. It also caused me to cut myself for the very first time. I don't do it often, but every now and then I do lose it. But doesn't everyone? I think everyone has their own way of dealing with a severe amount of depression and stress." Her confession surprised me. I couldn't imagine this cool and calm lady in front of me being nutty enough to go to a mental hospital.
    I sighed. "I'm sorry I caused all of that."
    She turned around and placed her hand gently upon my cheek. "Oh, Travis. You weren't the cause of it. And maybe it's just taken me this long to really understand that. I guess we never stop growing up and learning things."
    "Would that be considered advice from you?" I asked, and she smiled.
    "The best advice that anyone can give you is to have an open mind to learning about new things. You're never too old to grow older and be given more wisdom." She seemed so wise for her age, yet even she herself said that there was so much more that she still had yet to learn.
    She turned, and left me standing in the hallway. I watched her walking away, and fully realised that extent of Kylie's admiration. Felicity was a miraculous woman who could, and had, make it through any kind of tough time. She had strength within her that shined through in a brilliant light. And for the first time, I was proud to say that such a woman was my mother.
    Yet I knew there was so much more for me to learn. This was just the beginning of a long journey of secrets. At least my mother had at least told me the name of my father. And even if she hadn't given me details, I now knew that being pregnant with and having me was a traumatic thing that my father had caused.
    I made my way down the hall and into my bedroom. I was surprised to see Kylie standing by the giant window, looking out over the ocean hitting the rocks below. Moonlight trickled in to illuminate her, and she looked like an angel. Her true innocence and beauty seemed to shine from her that night.
    "What are you doing in here?" I whispered, not really wanting to break the spell the moon and her beauty had cast.
    "I just wanted to say goodnight to you. I just wanted…" She paused. "I just wanted to make sure that tonight wasn't all a dream, and that with midnight you wouldn't pop and disappear, or fall back into your strange obsession with Tawny."
    I walked over to her, and placed my hand on her shoulder. She had her arms wrapped tightly around herself, and she looked down at the ground. Up close I could see a tear in sliding down her cheek. I touched a fingertip to her cheek, gently wiping away the one tear.
    "I only saw you tonight, Kylie. You're all I want to see. I promise you, it's not Tawny I want to be with." Only part of it was a lie, and it wasn't a very big part. Yes, I was interested in Tawny in some strange way. But I was completely falling for Kylie.
    She laughed, and shook her head. "I feel so stupid for getting scared. But when you left with Tawny and Cry, I was sure that my magical night had ended and you were gone forever, wrapped up in Tawny's world."
    I wrapped my arms around her, and pulled her against me. I buried my face in her, taking in the sweet smell of freesia. "Don't feel stupid. But I really promise you, with all of who I am, I want only you in my life, and not some little girl."
    She finally relaxed, and let her head fall back against my shoulder, where she buried her face against my neck. It put something sweet in my heart, but it was also arousing. I knew that I would soon have to let her go, whether or not I really wanted to.
    Before I let her go, though, I peered down at her beautiful face. Her eyes were closed, but I knew that she could feel my eyes upon her. She smiled, and I couldn't resist. I gently bent my head to lightly kiss her lips.
    I wasn't expecting her to kiss back with such fervour. The light kiss turned into a deep, passionate one. I was lost in the moment of it, and I held her tightly. Suddenly, she stopped, and pulled away from me, and I could tell that I hadn't been careful. I was very obviously aroused, and I had scared and embarrassed her.
    "I'm sorry," she whispered, trying not to look at my lower half, but failing. "I - I have to go now." And with that, she disappeared into the darkness past the window.
    I stood for a while, staring out at the sea. I debated on going after her, but I knew that would just embarrass both of us more. I had never kissed anyone before, nor had I ever had an erection in front of anyone. I felt embarrassed, and a little scared. If I couldn't control myself in a situation like that, how could I ever control my raging hormones around her?
    I ran my fingers through my hair. I felt so frustrated. I had wanted her. I had wanted her so badly, and if it had gone any farther than that kiss, who knows if she could have stopped me. But as ashamed of the thought as I was, I still wanted her. I could still imagine her there, the smell of her and all.
    I swallowed hard as I slid my hand down over the hard part of me. I breathed heavily as I imagined what could have happened. Just as I slipped my pants down and touched myself gently, there was a knock, and Tawny came in without my answer.
    I tried to hide quickly, but it was too late. She had seen, and even in the darkness I could see her face was bright red. That made two girls I had embarrassed tonight. I was wondering what the hell was wrong with me.
    Yet, unlike Kylie, Tawny didn't turn away and run. She simply stared. She was intrigued, curious. Her eyes ran up and down my body, and then she looked me dead-on in the eyes. I knew what was going through her, and it frightened me. It only scared me so much because I was making her feel sexually aroused, and I feared where that would get me if I let it.
    "Please leave, Tawny," I said, going over to the bed and wrapping the blanket about my hips.
    "That blanket only makes you that much more appealing, Travis," she whispered breathlessly. "I only came in here to apologise. But I never imagined seeing you this way. I never imagined how it would make me feel."
    "You're too young, Tawny. Don't think of those things," I growled, just wanting her to leave. How strange it was that I seemed just as aroused with her in here as I had been with Kylie. It was scary.
    She came farther into the room. "Is this why Kylie ran from your room? Did you scare her?" I nodded, trying not to think of anything sexual. "I'm not like Kylie, you know. I'm not scared of it like she is. I'm a virgin, but I'm willing not to be. As long as it's with you."
    I turned away as she came up to me, just inches from me. "Please, go, Tawny. Please," I begged.
    She ran her fingers over my groin, and I let out a helpless moan. "You turn me away now, Travis. But I'll make you want me more than you want Kylie. You won't turn me away eventually."
    Then she left, and eventually my aroused state went away. But it was guilt that had caused my erection to go away. After all, no matter how Tawny spoke, looked or acted, she was a child of no more than thirteen, a cousin to boot. And yet, she made me want her as much as I wanted Kylie. Only it was lust with Tawny, whereas I knew that I was falling in love with Kylie. What was a man to do once he lost control?

CHAPTER SEVEN

If I'd known the things that would go on the moment I met my birth mother and her family, I think I may have had more cons than pros. All I wanted to do now run and hide. I was embarrassed and ashamed of myself. And I honestly couldn't understand where all of these feelings were coming from.
    Kylie couldn't look at me, though she did try to spend time with me. I felt horrible for putting her into that sort of position. She had become a very valued friend. Yes, I had strong feelings for her, but I missed her friendship more than anything. I knew that I was no longer on her bad side, but I was no longer on her good side, either.
    I knew that I had ruined things between Kylie and Tawny. Kylie still made an attempt to be kind to the girl who had been a friend, but both of them found it hard to be near one another. Once they'd had a strong connection, and even sometimes seemed to be a lot alike, even though they were very different as well. Now, they could hardly be in the same room. And all of it was because of me.
    I couldn't help thinking about what else I could damage in this family. My mother's relationship with her husband only worsened as she tried to get close to me. The more secrets she was willing to reveal to me, the more he hovered about, wondering what she was doing. At one point he even stayed home from work for a full month, never leaving her side. It was as if he, himself, was scared of the truth. But how could the truth ruin him?
    Finally, a year after I arrived, Felicity decided to tell me more about what had happened between my father and her. It was obviously something that she had thought long and hard about. And she had also come to trust me. Maybe she had even come to love me just a little bit.
    She took me out to the gazebo where we first had a real talk about the past, though she hadn't revealed anything then. I sat while she stood, pacing back and forth. I could tell it was still going to be hard for her to go through.
    "You know, when you first showed up, I couldn't really tell if I was happy to see you or scared to see you. Maybe I was both. I knew that by you coming here I would have to face things that had been better left dead," she began, sighing deeply. "But you are my son, and since you're alive, so is the past. You need to at least know about yourself. You're right about that.
    "When I was fifteen, my sister became pregnant with her first child. Since it made her mind go even more out of whack, I left to go stay with her, to help take care of her. I had no problem with it, but I really didn't like her husband too much. I knew how often he cheated on her, and he always made me feel uncomfortable. I could tell that he had an eye for me.
    "He began to rape me, but no matter how often I begged to go home, he refused to let me. I tried to escape, and one time a young servant boy who had been paid to keep me there took pity on me and helped me leave. However, my father sent me right back. I was already pregnant by that time.
    "He kept me locked up in a room, refusing to let me leave. After being pregnant and having you, I was already crazy. I couldn't have taken care of you, and I knew that. I gave you away, hoping for the best, though it broke my heart to do so. It was just something else to add to my misery and send me to the mental clinic.
    "I got better, but trust me, Travis, I never got over the fact that I so easily signed you over. I know you may not believe me, but it really did hurt to do it." She had talked so fast I had to put the words together slowly. So her own brother-in-law had raped my mother. No wonder she hadn't wanted to tell me.
    "I believe you," I said, standing. "And thank you for telling me. I appreciate it. But why did you choose now?"
    She sighed. "Well, to be honest, it's because Allen heard that you were here. He has demanded to see you, and I wanted you to know the true story, not some collaboration he's come up with. But" - she paused, looked around, not wanting to be overheard - "David must never know about your meeting him."
    I nodded, though I didn't understand why not. "Why should I meet him? He raped you, it's not like I was made of some love affair."
    "Maybe you weren't. But please, just do it. He's not that horrible." She looked away, biting her lower lip. I could tell there were things she had kept held back from me. But I didn't ask. I was afraid to.
    I was afraid of meeting my father. I didn't know what to really think about. After all, the pig had cheated on his wife and then raped her younger sister. What kind of man could he be? But there was something my mother wasn't telling me, and that made me decide to go through with it.
    I kept it completely secret. I never told anyone, not even Tawny or Kylie, although I wasn't talking to Tawny much these days, and Kylie was still too embarrassed to be around me. It wasn't too difficult to keep it from them.
    But it surprised me the day I was to leave when Kylie came out of the house. "Be careful. I've heard stories of your father, and I've met him before. I never liked him."
    "How did you know?" I asked, worried that she would tell her father. They were close, even though he attempted to control her life.
    "Felicity told me." She saw the fear on my face, and smiled. "Don't worry, I won't tell my father. This has nothing to do with him."
    "Why did Felicity tell you, though? It has nothing to do with you, either." I knew that I was being a bit snappy with her, but I was still scared. I didn't want to get my mother into any trouble.
    I could see the hurt on her face. "Maybe she told me because she knows that I can keep a secret. I don't know why she told me, but there is no reason to keep it secret from me. But I can tell you're good at keeping secrets."
    "I'm not as good at it as you would think," I muttered. "And I've never kept anything from you. You already know everything there is to know about my life."
    "There are some things I don't know. But I'm scared to know those things." I was scared to ask her what she meant. I didn't get a chance to, anyway. Kingsman called me over, and I got into the car. I would be staying with my father for a week.
    "Good-bye, Kylie. I hope that someday we can have the friendship back between us that we used to. Now I feel we're back to square one," I said, and turned around. I left without looking back at her. But I had a feeling that had I looked back I would only see that she had gone back inside.

When we pulled up to my father's home, I was as shocked by its size as I had been, and still was, when I'd first laid eyes on my mother's home. It wasn't as large, but it was still so big you could get lost in it. I could tell Kingsman wasn't too happy about driving up to the house. He seemed annoyed that I was even going. As soon as he had my bags out of the car, he left me standing there.
    A butler came out and ushered me into the house. He didn't speak to me; he seemed to understand who I was, though. I followed him inside and up the stairs. I was led into a room much smaller than the one I had at home. I almost laughed at myself at the thought. I was already considering Felicity's home as my own. My, how things had changed.
    "You stay here," the butler said, and left the room, shutting the door behind him. His words and the click of the door gave me chills. The whole house, with its darkness, gave me the same chills. To think this was where I'd been conceived and born. I hadn't thought about it that way until I had arrived.
    I stayed in there an hour, reluctant to unpack my things. For some reason, I felt like running home. No matter what secrets were packed into the walls there, and no matter the people who weren't really included into the family, it was much more welcoming. I wasn't scared to be there like I was here.
    Finally, after an hour, a man walked into the door. I could only assume that this was my father. His hair was blond like mine. But other than that, there were very few similarities in looks. I was thanking God for that. The man looked horrible. His hair was dishevelled, his clothes were wrinkled and he looked as if he hadn't shaved in weeks.
    He smiled. "Welcome home, son. I've been waiting to meet you for years. When I found out that you were here, I was very excited." He walked over, and hugged me to his tall, thin form.
    I couldn't move. My arms were stiff at my sides. I hadn't expected to meet a man who looked like a bum. I was very scared of him, but I tried to hide it. He took my fear for something else, though.
    "I know you must feel dreadfully uncomfortable." He could say that again. "I know that you don't know me. But I am hoping that we can get to know each other in the next few weeks."
    Few weeks? Felicity had promised that it would only be a week. I felt like running and hiding. I immediately wanted to call Felicity. How strange it was that I still felt like a little boy at nineteen years old, wanting to call home to his mommy. This wasn't going to be a grand adventure at all. Not that I really had thought that it would be. But I'd never expected this.
    "Well, it's nice to meet you, too," I finally managed. "But Felicity told me I'd only be staying a week."
    "Oh? Well, she never really did know what she was talking about. She's a silly girl, isn't she?" He smiled. "Speaking of silly girls, I can't wait for you to meet your sisters, Brittany and Bambi. Brit is the same age as you are, and Bambi is four years younger."
    Felicity had never mentioned that I had younger sisters here. They must have been my aunt Kassy's daughters. After all, the reason for my existence was Brittany, right? Hadn't Felicity told me that she'd come here to help her sister along with her pregnancy?
    "Well, I really must be going. I have things to do today. I have a business meeting to go to, in fact. How do I look?" I wanted to tell him that he looked crazy, but I never said a word. He didn't really want an answer, anyway. "Welcome home, son," he said again, and then left the room.
    I sat in the room, scared to explore the house. But after a few hours, I became hungry, and decided to go looking for something to eat. I didn't know where anything was, but I decided the best way to find things would be by searching. Nobody was going to find me in the halls of this house and be kind enough to escort me to the dining area. It wasn't like a friendly Tawny was going to appear, walking out of the walls, looking as beautiful as ever.
    I was missing Tawny and Kylie right about then. As I began to think about the two of them, I became sad. My mother and those two were really the only reason I was still there. I had come to care about all of them. Sometimes I wasn't sure that it was just lust with Tawny. I feared that it might be something more.
    As I walked down the halls, I finally found the kitchen. There was a cook in there, a skinny old lady who seemed angry that I had entered her kitchen. I asked for something to eat and she, although annoyed, made me something really quick.
    I was surprised by the food, as well. She made me a quick hamburger and French fries. I hadn't had a meal like that since I'd left Colorado. I'd become very used to the rich, fancier foods that were served in my new home. The hamburger tasted strange, as well, making me feel sick. I didn't even finish it. I hadn't been that hungry.
    As I made my way around the house, exploring, I found that the rooms were in bad need of some dusting. The furniture was old and worn. There were cobwebs all over the place. There were hardly any working lights in the house. It made me wonder how they could possibly live like this.
    As I passed one room, I thought I heard crying. I walked up to the door, and gingerly put my ear to the door. Sure enough, I heard whimpers of sadness coming from within. I pushed the door opened, and peered in. The room wasn't very big and only had a chaise, a couple of chairs and a piano in it. The windows were heavily draped, and there was no light other than one candle sitting upon the dusty old piano.
    I walked in slowly, looking around. I could easily imagine the depression going on in this house. Why would anyone still be living here? I was about to leave when the crying suddenly stopped. I turned around and around, and saw no one. And then I turned to see a small, thin figure sitting in a corner.
    I picked up the candle and held it up. There, I saw a pretty young girl, sitting in the corner, her arms wrapped tightly around her knees. Her brown hair was filthy, and her face was dirty. She was in bad need of a bath. Her clothes I imagined were once very nice, but now the sweater she wore held no colour, and had holes in it. The skirt was tattered and torn, and her feet were bare. Even in the darkness I could see that she was dreadfully skinny, with large blue eyes that looked frightened and miserable.
    "Are you alright?" I asked, taking a few steps forward. "Can I help you with anything?"
    "Are you a new servant?" she asked tentatively.
    I shook my head. "No, I'm your cousin, Travis." I decided not to go into detail right now. She didn't need that.
    "What are you doing here? We never get visitors." She seemed frightened. "Did somebody die?" It frightened me how hopeful she sounded.
    I shook my head. "No, nobody died. I am just here for a visit. Why don't you ever get visitors?"
    "Because, Daddy is crazy. He sometimes calls me Brittany, even though Brittany died two years ago." She was shaking all over; I could see that she was freezing.
    "Why don't you come out of there and we can talk? But first, I think you need a bath." I was shocked to hear that my sister was dead. Bambi didn't tell me how she died, but I knew that it couldn't be very good. I didn't want to frighten her more, though.
    She shook her head. "The water is so cold! I don't want to take a cold bath."
    "You don't have to. I'll heat up some water for you. Now come out. You don't need to be scared of me. I'm not going to hurt you. I promise." I lifted my hand out to her. She looked at me first, and then slid her slim, skeleton-like hand into mine.
    "That's better, Bambi. Now come with me. We'll get you warmed up and clean." I paused a moment. "Do you have any clothes to wear?"
    She shook her head. "I have a few clothes, but none of them are warm or clean." She seemed ashamed, but I couldn't blame her. From then on, my problems seemed minimal, I promised myself to take care of this young girl who was my sister, my blood. I couldn't allow her to live this way. I had to get her out of here.
    I took her into the nearest bathroom to my bedroom, and began to run the water. But sure enough, there was no hot water coming from the pipes. I sighed, and decided that I'd have to probably boil some. I let some cold water run into the water, and then went into the kitchen.
    Fortunately, the cook wasn't in there. I boiled some water, and poured it into a bucket I had managed to find. I knew that I was taking forever, but I had to get her clean and looking slightly healthier.
    Finally, after an hour of trying, the bath was warm enough for her to bathe in. I left her in there by herself, but when she got out, a towel wrapped around her, she hadn't washed a single thing on her body. She obviously hadn't washed herself in a long time.
    "How long has it been since you bathed?" I asked her as I led her to the bathroom. She seemed to lack modesty as she let the towel go and she climbed back into the water.
    "Two weeks. Daddy often washes me," she admitted.
    "You've never washed yourself?" I was truly amazed. I realised how abused the girl was, and with what she said I was convinced that he had sexually abused his daughter.
    She shook her head, and I decided to show her exactly what she needed to do. I felt as if she was a baby, in need of direction. She listened and watched, and as much as she hated it, I was forced to use cold, clean water on her. There was no other way. The water had become that filthy.
    When she got out, she looked one hundred times better. She was underweight, but she was clean. What I was afraid of was that there was no way to get a hold of my mother. And I couldn't ask Allen. He had disappeared somewhere, but I had a feeling it wasn't to a business meeting.
    I couldn't begin to imagine exactly what was going on in this house, but I knew that I would not be spending a week here. I wanted to leave the moment I'd arrived, and now I definitely wanted to go. But I couldn't imagine leaving Bambi behind. After I'd finished helping give her a bath and then given her a shirt of mine to wear, she'd fallen asleep in the bed in the room given to me.
    I waited impatiently for my father to arrive home. I had every intention of demanding for a car to be sent to me from home. I didn't like his servants, either. They were all very strange and rude. They were also very creepy.
    As a late hour approached, I went back upstairs to check on Bambi. She looked at me with her wide hazel eyes; I could easily see they weren't just blue now, but held tints of gold and brown in them, still confused by my presence. She seemed so much younger and vulnerable than fifteen. She was a far cry from Tawny, who was two years younger than she was.
    "Are you hungry?" I asked her.
    She looked at me a moment, looked about the room slowly as if she'd never seen it, and then finally nodded. "I am hungry. But I don't like the food here. It all tastes gross," she said, wrinkling her nose.
    "Well, I'll go into the kitchen and try to find something decent for us both to eat. Hopefully that cook isn't in there," I muttered before leaving.
    When I walked into the kitchen, the cook was in there this time. She turned to me, her eyes cold and harsh. "What are you doing in here?"
    "I came in here to find something decent to eat. I couldn't even finish what you made me, it was terrible." I was going to be honest and harsh to this woman. After all, she evidently put up with living here, and I knew that she saw what went on.
    She didn't respond. She simply turned her nose up into the air and left the kitchen. Evidently, she wasn't one to argue with somebody above her. How strange it was that I'd changed so much. I, inadvertently, had begun to think of servants as below me. But then again, these ones were. I had already determined that if anyone dealt with these conditions willingly, they were scum.
    When I opened the giant refrigerator door, I was shocked and disgusted by what I saw. Almost all of the food was mouldy. The smells coming from within were enough to make me run to the sink and vomit. No matter how I looked, there was no fresh food. It was all moulded and rotting.
    I opened the cupboard doors to see a similar scene. Rotted, disgusting food sat within. Nothing in there looked even remotely edible. And yet, that woman had cooked some of it, anyway. Looking at it and realising that I'd eaten some of it earlier made me sick. I left the kitchen in a hurry.
    As I played over what I'd seen in my head, the realisation of the lack of upkeep in the house, and the run-down look gave way to a cold feeling. My father was poor. The servants probably only stayed to be loyal. It had probably been awhile since either my father or my sister had eaten anything. No wonder both of them looked horrible.
    I knew then that I couldn't stay there. I waited on the stairs that faced the front door for my father to come home. I stayed there and stayed there, but it was a good three hours before the door opened. He looked up when he walked in, and beamed a smile. How could anyone who lived in this place smile?
    "Well, son, how did your day go? I'm sorry to have obviously kept you waiting. My meeting ran overtime. I was expecting to be home a lot earlier. Does Cook have dinner ready?" He acted as if none of what he saw existed. He could only see things as they had been.
    "How can she have dinner done when there is nothing but rotted food to make? You're starving your daughter. Can't you see that she is weak and probably dying right before your eyes? She is unhealthy!" I wasn't about to pretend with him.
    Suddenly, his eyes turned from friendly to mean looking. His anger was very bright, and he looked evil the way he looked at me. I actually backed up the stairs. I didn't know what this man was capable of, no matter if I was bigger than him. He was insane.
    "My daughter? You are not to go near my daughter!" he bellowed, and I backed up the stairs farther. "You will pay for this, you monster. I'll kill you!"
    It was as if he wasn't talking to me. Fear made my heart thump, and I tried to get up the stairs without taking my eyes from him. But he walked away from the stairs, disappearing somewhere far into the house. I thought he'd gone for good, but he came back, a rifle in his hand.
    As he pointed it at me, I was reminded of Mom. So this is the fear she felt, I absentmindedly thought. They say your life flashes before your eyes in the face of death, and they are right. Just as I heard the gun go off and I felt a sting somewhere between my shoulder and my chest, my last thoughts were of Kylie, Tawny and Felicity. And, as sad as it was, I realised, maybe a little too late, how much I really cared for every single one of them.

CHAPTER EIGHT

When I woke, I was in a small room with a bathroom across the way. The room and the bathroom were very small, and the floor in both the room and bathroom had bloodstains on the carpet and linoleum. It gave me the creeps. Was somebody murdered up here?
    When I tried to move, a flash of pain jolted through my arm. I let out a small groan of pain. My arms felt terrible, but I was still alive. Somehow, at the moment. I wasn't too thankful for that. My arm had been bandaged and cleaned up, and my shirt was off. I couldn't help wondering who had helped me, and who had carried me up the stairs.
    I finally managed to get out of the bed. I walked over to the long, skinny window, and opened the shutters. I looked out to see that I had to at least be on the third storey, in a room just below the attic. There were trees that had just begun to blossom below me, and I could see the dusty drive. It was early morning, and a light fog had settled over the grounds.
    It was like a scene from a horror movie. All I wanted to do was escape it. I'd been so safe at my mother's home. And yet, I'd come here to visit and meet my father. She'd actually insisted that I do so. She had acted strangely. Did she know about this? Did she want that crazy bastard to kill me? The thought was painful.
    And maybe Kylie was in on it, too. Hadn't Felicity told her about it? Hadn't she warned me to be careful? She had to know somebody. And just like that, questions of doubt made me hurt more, and any sense of trust that I'd felt for any of them from the beginning disappeared. I was positive that they'd put me here.
    Part of me fought the other, trying to assure me that my mother would never do such a thing. But there were so many things going against her and Kylie to make me believe that this had been done purposely. I walked away from the window and crawled back into the bed, damning my pained arm. And like a scared little boy, I cried.
    I cried because I felt betrayed. I cried because I was scared. I cried because I didn't know what was about to happen to me. The man was crazy. He could kill me and not even feel anything about it. He would probably prop my body up and pretend that I was still alive. Hell, maybe I really was already dead and just a ghost.
    I fell asleep again, and didn't wake until I heard somebody jingling the door handle. When I opened my eyes, I saw Allen walk into the room, carrying a tray. There was a silver cover over the plate, so I had no idea what was under it.
    He smiled broadly. "I am here to serve you breakfast. I hope you enjoy it. It was one of Felicity's favourites."
    He placed the tray down and left. I heard him shut and lock the door. I shivered. I was more trapped up here than I'd first realised. He was locking me in, keeping me prisoner. Hadn't my mother told me that this is what he'd done to her? He was truly a sick man.
    I was sure that there was rotten food beneath the silver cover. But, my stomach growling, I picked it up anyway. But I was shocked to see not moulding food, not good food, but no food. There was only a leaf as part of decoration sitting on an empty plate. He did give me a glass of water, though.
    After I drank a quick glass of water, I found my way into the bathroom. I knew that my showers would be cold ones, since there was no hot water in the house. I feared stepping into the cold water, but being clean was being clean. And I felt filthy.
    After the first, initial shock, the water wasn't so terrible. I was only in long enough to wash quickly and then get out. Afterward, I lay down on the bed and stared at the door. What had I done to deserve this? What had I done to become some man's captive? Did somebody really have it out for me?
    I hated thinking that maybe my mother and Kylie had anything to do with this. I'd never been so distrustful in all of my life. I'd always given people a shadow of a doubt. Had I been wrong to trust them? I felt tears coming to engulf me, no matter how I tried to hold them back. I definitely couldn't be a "man" about this.
    When Allen brought lunch, it was the same thing as breakfast. There was a glass of water and nothing else. In his mind, there always was something on the plate. He would even tell me what it was. The man was truly insane. It was frightening to think that maybe this was how I was meant to die.
    I didn't know why, but with every glass of water I drank, I felt more tired. After my so-called lunch, I fell asleep until he arrived once more with "dinner". I drank the water, and then fell back to sleep all the way until he brought "lunch" the next day. The "breakfast" plate and glass of water was sitting on the floor beside the bed. He had woken me to "eat".
    When I drank the next two glasses of water, I passed right out. When it was time for dinner, I woke to him forcing the water down my throat. It was very frightening, because I felt as if I had no will of my own. I felt stiff and broken. I simply drank as he bid me to do.
    "Father, what are you doing?" I vaguely heard a voice ask. Somewhere in my mind, I recognised it as the small voice of Bambi.
    "I'm only helping Travis drink his water, darling. Go on back downstairs and get ready for your bath," I heard my father order gently.
    "No! Don't make him drink the water! Brittany died drinking the water! Don't make him go with her!" she cried.
    "How many times do I have to tell you that Brittany is not dead? How many times?" I heard him scream at her.
    "I know, Father, I'm sorry. I promise to never say it again," she said in a tiny voice. I heard the door shut, and then all was quiet again.
    I felt myself falling back into my coma-like sleep. I wanted to fight it with all of my being. Especially after hearing the fear in Bambi's voice and what she had said. Brittany had died drinking the water? But water was just water, wasn't it? Or was there more in that water than appeared?
    Eventually, I got to where I began to not realise the time. I could hardly remember drinking, although I knew that Allen helped me do so on more than one occasion. I knew there were a few times when I'd tried to weakly fight him off and not drink, but in spite of his sickly thin size, he was strong. He was definitely stronger than me now that I had become so weak.
    Finally, after being forced to gulp down another glass of his water, I became ill. I began to gag and throw up. Nothing but water came up, and I realised that a lot of time must have passed by. The only thing keeping me alive was the water that had been forced down me… the water that was obviously poisoned with something.
    I forced myself to stay awake, no matter how tired, weak and pained I was. And I was in pain. My shoulder wasn't healing correctly at all. It felt on fire, and I knew it had to be infected. I could smell that I was filthy and in dire need of bathing. All of it put together made me want to just give up, go back to sleep and die.
    And I would have done just that if it weren't for the clicking of the door opening, and a soft voice whispering above me, "Travis? Are you all right? Are you still alive?"
    "Barely," I croaked out, my voice hoarse, my throat terribly sore. How long had it been since I'd spoken?
    "At least you still are," Bambi said. I could hardly open my eyes to see her. I could see well enough to see that she was clean and had some of my clothes on. Where were my clothes anyway? "We need to get you out of here."
    She began to try pulling me up, but pain shot through my arm, my eyes flew open with the intensity. "Stop! Just leave me here!"
    She looked at me with pity and sympathy in your eyes. "I can't leave you here. I won't let you end up like Brittany, like me eventually, I'm sure," she whispered softly, her eyes sad.
    I let her half-drag me to the bathroom. She made me sit on the toilet while she ran cold water into the bathtub. "This is going to be cold, but if you don't get clean, you're going to get more sick, and your arm is going to become more infected."
    Somewhere, in the back of my mind, I couldn't help wondering how she had become so intelligent. Why wasn't she as nuts as the man who had created us? And what was it with crazy people in this family, anyway?
    I lay back against the back of the toilet, my eyes closed. I knew I was drifting back into sleep, but I couldn't control it. It wasn't just because of being drugged, either. I had used up every last bit of strength I actually had. I was even weaker now, and felt even more miserable.
    I felt her hands pulling my shirt from my shoulder gently. I felt the blood-soaked bandaged coming off. None of it affected me in any way. That is, until she began to unbutton and unzip my pants. But as much as I tried, I was too weak to stop her.
    Yet, there was nothing sick and wrong with her mind. She didn't stare, touch or make a single comment. She simply urged me up after I was naked, and had me gently lower down into the icy water.
    The cold water did break my sleepy spell a bit. Though I was still weak, I managed to hold my eyes open more, and became a bit more embarrassed by my naked state. But Bambi was to have none of that. When I tried to stop her from washing me, she snapped at me. "You are much too weak to wash yourself. I am not some pervert; I am just making you clean. Now stop this silly modesty thing and let me help you!" She seemed to have more energy than the Bambi I'd first met.
    I lay back, obeying her command. When I was cleaned up, she helped me out of the water, quickly wrapping a towel about my waist. I noticed how she kept checking the clock on the wall above the bed that was directly across from the bathroom. I knew that she was just waiting for her father to come up those steps.
    She bandaged my wound again, and helped me dress in clean clothes. Then, helping me up from my position on the toilet seat, she led me to a small closet door. "Hide here, Travis. I promise to bring you up some real food. I found a stash."
    I nodded, and fell to the floor. The bath and clean clothes had rejuvenated some of my energy, but I still felt weak. I prayed that she could bring up something for me to eat. I was starving, and as the time wore on, I kept hiding, even though my mouth had begun to get dry. I was sick, severely sick. I could actually feel myself become dehydrated.
    After what felt like hours and hours of waiting, the closet door was opened again. Bambi stood there and studied me. She shook her head, and helped me to my feet. I couldn't read her thoughts, but I feared that she feared the worst. And at that point, she was my optimism for my life.
    She sat me on the side of the bed and proceeded to bring a chair up beside me. She had a plate full of gelatine, chicken broth, water and juice. All liquids, though I didn't understand why. I was hungry for real food.
    She soon explained. "It's been two weeks since you've actually eaten solid foods. I have no idea what my father was putting into that water, so I decided to start you out on liquids. You need to get some semblance of strength back. Also, don't drink the water. I'll dump it down the sink and tell him that you drank it."
    She helped me eat, and in spite of it not being solid food, it ran down my throat gently, making my stomach very grateful. I didn't finish it all, however. By the time half the broth was gone, I felt full.
    "Please, my stomach can't take another bite," I pleaded. I already felt almost one hundred times better.
    She nodded. "Alright. I promise to get you out of here as soon as possible. I promise to get you home," she said softly. She leaned over and kissed my cheek. "Sleep now. I'm sure that you'll be alright now."
    I did as she said, and fell asleep. I was scared, though, that Allen would be the next to come up the stairs. I could almost feel him forcing the water down my throat. I prayed to God that I wouldn't have a fear of water after this. But after thinking about it, I knew that it was a silly idea. Especially if I understood that it wasn't water that was my enemy, but my very own father.
    I woke up often during the night, wanting to fend off any harsh attacks. I was so scared of being vulnerable. I knew that death was so close to me. I could almost see it. I could already feel it surrounding me, trying to crush out my very existence. What a frightening feeling that was.
    Then sometime during the early morning hours, I heard a shrill scream coming from directly below me. I had just woken, believing it to be a dream, but I knew that it wasn't. Of course, the screams were really just begging, pleading and crying. They weren't nearly as shrill as I'd believed them to be.
    "Father, please, no. Not this again," I heard Bambi begging and crying. "You hurt me!"
    I don't really know what made me move towards the sound of her crying, but I did. As I crawled along the floor, their voices became clearer. Suddenly, I reached a hole in the floor where the wooden planks had settled. The crack between them was big enough to where I could peek through and see exactly what was going on. What was happening made me physically sick.
    "Oh, Felicity. Don't cry. We were made for each other; we were made for this. Tell me you love me again! Tell me!" my father cried, as his hand moved quickly between his own daughter's legs.
    "I love you," she cried, her body shaking in fear and repulsion. "Please, stop," she begged.
    "We can't stop now, my love. We can't. Just relax. I hate how you're always so tense at the beginning. You still play hard to get, no matter how many times I have you. But that is why I love you so." He pulled his hand away, and I was absolutely shocked to see not his fingers, but a dildo that he'd shoved as far as he possibly could inside of her. It had been so far in her that I had not been able to see it until he'd began to pull it from her.
    He pulled his already undone pants down, and turned her over to where she was on her hands and knees. No matter how sick I felt watching it, I couldn't pull my eyes away. I could almost feel the repulsion Bambi felt for herself and her father as he did these things to her. I wanted to feel it for her, to take her pain away as she had mine.
    "No, please, please. This is why Mother and Brittany are dead," she sobbed harder. So he had abused both my aunt and their eldest daughter? But what did that have to do with Aunt Kassy and Brittany's deaths?
    Questions ran through my mind at lightening speed. All of it was too much to take in. As Allen got up and walked away from a curled-up and crying Bambi, I laid onto the floor. I wanted to let her know I was there, but I felt so tired and drained. I passed out before I could even pull myself back to the bed. But as I started drifting back to sleep, I couldn't help thinking about Allen and his strange obsession with my mother that he still seemed to possess.

CHAPTER NINE

I knew the poison, whatever it may be, was flowing through my body. Somehow, Bambi kept Allen from coming up to the room. She continuously gave me water and juice to drink, attempting to flush my system. I didn't think it was working, because I still felt so weak, but after a few days I did feel my strength coming back.
    "You'll be out of here in no time," Bambi promised, her eyes wide with a sadness that broke my heart.
    "I want to take you with me, Bambi," I told her, and her eyes widened. "It's the least I could do for the person who saved my life."
    "I haven't saved it, yet, though. You're not out of here, yet," she said, shaking her head. "I can't go, anyway. Felicity, my mother's sister, forbid my family to ever be seen there again after Mama's death."
    I tilted my head to the side in question. "Why would she do something like that? You're still her niece."
    She looked towards the door, as if she half-expected Allen to come through it. "There were rumours," she whispered. "Brittany told them to me before she died. I never knew if it was the truth or not, even though she swore that it was."
    "What kind of rumours?" My heart pounded in my chest as I waited to hear what she had to say. Maybe she already knew that I was her half-brother.
    "Brittany said that reason she banned us from her home is because she was having an affair with our father, and actually produced three children from him, not her husband." She shut her mouth quickly. But she squinted her eyes as her thought process began to take over. "Who are your mother and father?"
    I had to but look at her without a word for her to put two and two together. She dropped the tray she'd been holding on her way out. "Calm down, Bambi. It's not quite that big of a deal."
    "Oh, but it is!" she cried. "That means what Brittany said is the truth!"
    "You already knew that it was true. Why else would he force himself on you and pretend that you were my mother?" I hadn't meant for her to find out that I knew.
    She looked down, ashamed and hurt. "I always thought it was just some sick fantasy in his head. But it's all right. I'm used to it now."
    I shook my head and stood up. "No, you're not used to it. You beg him to stop, but he keeps going. You turn into Felicity the moment he lays his eyes on you in that room."
    She began to cry, her shoulders shaking. "He will never stop, and it hurts so much. And now I have a secret, too."
    I felt sick to my stomach, immediately understanding her. "You're pregnant?" She nodded. "How far along?"
    "Four months, but I've hardly begun to show. I've been so afraid to say anything to anyone," she confessed, her tears large. I could almost see the pain within each tear that shed from her eyes.
    "We definitely have to get you out of here, now," I declared. Just as the words left my lips, the door was shoved open and slammed against the door.
    My head shot up as Allen stormed in. "Neither of you will be going anywhere," he said. Then he turned to Bambi, who cowered behind me. I could feel her shaking. He smiled at her and held his arms out. "Why didn't you tell me this ridiculous young man impregnated you, my dear? I could have had it aborted for you."
    She shook her head. "Leave me alone!" She fell onto the bed, and looked up at him with eyes large with fear. "You did it, and you know it. You made me pregnant!"
    "She's right. I have my strength back now. I'll fight you. You're a sick bastard to rape your own daughter and kill the other." I felt angry. I wanted to wring his neck.
    "Now, who would tell you I did such a thing? I would never do those horrific things!" He looked genuinely concerned about my opinion of him. He truly appeared as if he was appalled by my accusations.
    "Get out of here and let us both leave or you will regret it," I swore to him. He seemed so calm and in control of the situation. But one look in his eyes told me that something was clicking in his head.
    He attacked me without warning. I fell back and almost landed directly on top of Bambi, who moved out of the way at the last minute. She looked at me as I was pinned beneath our father. We fought, but as before he was stronger than expected. And I had yet to fully recover my full strength.
    Bambi ran from the room. I hoped and prayed it was to go run for help. I was at least able to fight for my life this time. There was no trusting. I wanted to kill the bastard for many reasons now. I just hoped that if Bambi was able to get a hold of Felicity, she wasn't involved and would come to my rescue. Please, my mind begged, let my mother still be trustworthy. I had come to love her too much for her to betray me like this. This sort of betrayal would hurt more than words could ever describe.
    I got my father up on his feet again, and got a few really good swings at him. By this time he had a bloody nose, and his lip had been busted open. I could see a bruise forming around his eye, too. I didn't know how long we were fighting, but I knew that it was a long time. Both of us were getting exhausted, but I was more so than he. I felt my strength disappearing, and I almost began to cry, knowing the danger of my faltering energy.
    Then he had me down on the bed again, and his hands were wrapped around my neck. I gagged and choked, but I could get no air. "I should have killed you like this in the first place instead of slowly poisoning you with that arsenic." So it had been arsenic, I remember thinking. Not that it mattered. I was done for now. But at least Bambi had got out.
    Just as I was about to pass out, I heard some commotion and felt the release of my neck. I began to gag and choke and gasp for breath. Then Kylie was there over me, slapping my face gently. "Breathe, Travis. Take deep breaths," she ordered.
    Finally, my breathing calmed down, and I looked at the worry and fear that she had been going through. I knew then that she'd had nothing to do with any of it. "I thought I'd never see you again," I whispered, my voice too hoarse to speak.
    She smiled through tears. "I thought that, too. I'm so glad you're all right. And I never thought that I would be this happy to see you alive!"
    I managed to sit up. I looked down at the ground where my father lay limp. His eyes were shut tight, and a bruise had begun to develop on the side of his head where he'd been hit with something. I had started to wonder what had happened when I looked up to see Felicity looking down at him, too, a frying pan in her tight grasp. She seemed so stunned that she'd done that. But there was more than that in her eyes. There was pain, too.
    Finally, she shook it off and looked my way. She swallowed hard, something my mother was prone to do, I'd noticed. "Are you alright?"
    I nodded. "Yeah, but he's been poisoning me with little doses of arsenic over the past few weeks."
    "I'm sorry, Travis. I never thought to come here and check. You're so mature and plenty old enough to make your own decisions. I'd thought that you'd decided to stay here. I should have listened to Kylie warning me."
    I turned to Kylie. She had wanted to come to my rescue the entire time. I smiled at her, and she smiled back. "You knew that I was in trouble. Thanks for being such a good friend."
    She began to cry, and threw her arms around my neck. "I'm so sorry for anything mean I've ever said. I'm so sorry."
    "It's alright," I whispered in her ear. Just then, I began to wonder how Bambi had got them so quickly and where she was now. I turned back to my mother to ask, but noticed that she was staring down at Allen's body, crying.
    "He wasn't like this," she whispered. "This isn't Allen. The man I knew was dashing in looks, and charming. He was intelligent and witty."
    "Felicity? What's wrong?" I stood up and walked over to her. "Are you alright?"
    She shook her head. "I loved him." She began to sob harder. "I truly loved him with all of my heart, and I have no idea how I could ever have come to love him. I knew that there was something in him that was crazy. I must have really set it off after banning him from my life. I know that he loved me, too."
    It struck me then, the reason for her pressuring me to see him. The strange way she had acted the day she had practically begged me to see him came rushing over me like a tidal wave. My mother had loved my father, but her love had come late, too late. She was the reason for his insanity, and he was the reason she seemed to hate her existence.
    But how can a woman fall in love with the man who raped her? How could she suddenly love him out of nowhere, when she had given me up because she'd been raped? It all seemed like a lie. She hadn't wanted me, supposedly because Allen had raped her. But now here she was, crying over his limp body.
    Paramedics had been called and both Bambi and I were taken in. Allen was, too, because he wasn't dead. But after evaluation, they put him into a mental institution. Everyone would agree that this man was far too crazy to be let loose into the public world. He was also a danger to our family.
    I was forced to stay overnight in the hospital. I didn't want to, but since arsenic was found still in my bloodstream, I had to be kept overnight with intravenous treatments to flood it out of my system. I agreed, though I didn't have the insurance.
    Felicity didn't visit me that night. She went home, this expression of pure misery on her pretty face. I was a bit disappointed that she didn't want to see me. I feared that this would rip apart anything that we could have developed. I so wanted her to be the long-lost mother I'd made up in my mind. The woman who had raised me had loved me, but she'd always been insane. Now I was losing the other woman that I could call my mother.
    Kylie stayed beside me, wanting to know every miserable detail. She sat beside the bed, listening to me describe what I could remember. For the most part, I didn't know what had been going on. I'd been passed out, barely living. I had been holding onto a small thread of life, though I didn't know what for. What did I really have left to live for? I didn't feel as if anyone really loved me. I felt extremely lonely.
    Kylie stared at me with pain in her eyes; the hurt felt so deep within her heart, her eyes had turned to a deep blue. "You are my friend, Travis. I love you. Why would you think otherwise?"
    I shrugged. "Things have just been so strange between us lately. You act as if you don't know me, and I really have no idea why."
    "How can you not know or understand?" I saw the tears just before she turned her head to hide them. "I have been so afraid to be around you."
    Her words stung me somewhere deep inside of my heart. "I never meant to make you afraid of me."
    "Not of you!" she cried, standing up. "I'm afraid of myself around you. I am scared to death that I will lose myself again, and I can't put up with that. I will not let you make me lose control. I let it happen once, it won't happen again."
    "I never expected to take advantage of you, or make you lose control of your emotions, Kylie. That's not my fault." I looked straight into her eyes. "I promise that I have no intention of that ever happening again."
    It shut her up, but it also put something akin to disappointment in her eyes. If she wanted some romance novel type of man, she wouldn't get that from me. I wanted to make her happy, I wanted to love her. But she was fighting me on that, but she couldn't fight somebody who wouldn't fight back. If she wanted me, she could come to me. I wouldn't play this game of cat and mouse.
    "I'd better get home," she replied icily, her shoulders pulled back. She was never one to lose her composure for long. "I need to check up on Felicity."
    "Yes, I forget that you are her mother hen. She can't go to the bathroom without you on her tail finding out how she's doing it so that you can model even that after her." I felt angry with her. It wasn't just about her turning me down, but her reasons for doing so.
    Her eyes turned cold and harsh. "I wish you'd never come here at all, Travis Lowell. I wish you would have left when I'd begged you to!"
    She left the room, attempting to slam the heavy hospital door behind her. When that failed, she turned toward the door and let out a frustrated scream through closed lips. She glared at me one last time as the door shut slowly, and then disappeared.
    I felt no guilt for being mean to her. She'd been rude to me almost from the moment she'd met me, and she only liked me if things were going her way. I hated her controlled attitude. She was never impulsive, not that it was such a horrible thing. But the fact that she seemed to refuse to even let herself fall in love with somebody, not just me, aggravated me. How could somebody be so cold to the thought of love? Wasn't that kind of control loss the best kind? Evidently, Kylie didn't feel that way.

I went home the next day to be greeted by Bambi. Everyone else in the house seemed to be too angry with me to speak to me. Tawny was angry because I still wasn't showing my true, red-blooded male interest in her. Kylie was mad because I'd thrown honesty right back into the face of somebody who prided herself on honesty but didn't always practice it. And Felicity didn't seem to want to see me because of everything that had happened. I felt more alone now than when I'd first arrived.
    Felicity had gained custody of Bambi. Bambi didn't mind, though she didn't want to impose on anyone. Nobody here was exactly the type to welcome people with open arms, I knew that. They especially seemed to not want her here. I knew David and the kids especially were afraid that she would be crazy, too. After all, her mother and father had both been pretty nuts.
    I searched Bambi out as soon as I came home. She had insisted that I find her the second I got there. She was ready to greet me with a warm, friendly smile. Her small but wary smile made me hate the father we both shared even more. It was his fault she was such a timid little mouse. And what was she to do now, pregnant and alone?
    I felt as if I should do something. I didn't know what, but I needed to find something. I couldn't find it within my heart to leave her in this sort of state, alone, floating on a single life raft in the middle of the ocean, the big ship within reach but never close enough to touch. How could a girl so young be so lost and alone? She was worse off than I'd assumed Tawny to be when I'd first met her.
    "How are you doing?" I asked her, as I stood in the open doorway of her new room.
    She nodded a bit. "I'm alright. Felicity took me shopping for some clothes and other things. And she got me a doctor's appointment for the baby and me."
    "How much do you want the baby, Bambi? Have you really thought about the sort of problems that it may have?" I was seriously curious. I didn't want to hurt her feelings, but I needed to know if she understood.
    "I guess I know. But I can't hurt it. It's never done anything." Her reasoning was too giving. If it had been me, I would have wanted to get rid of it immediately. She was too young to be weighed down by a child she didn't willingly create.
    I didn't try to convince her to put it up for adoption, though. No matter how young a girl was, there was always a bond between mother and child that was hard to break. There was a child growing within her, something that was a part of her. It was difficult for something like that to be ripped away, with your consent or not.
    That night, as I lay in my room for the first time in three weeks, I began to really think about Bambi and her ordeal. She needed me; she had no one else. She knew this family about as much as I did when I'd first arrived. She had nobody else.
    The solution was simple. It wouldn't be such a big deal, and would solve many of my own problems. I knew what I had to do, and I vowed that I would do it. And I would take care of Bambi for as long as she needed me to.

CHAPTER TEN

I decided that the best thing would be to talk my idea over with Felicity first. I knew that she would be a big help on my decision. Maybe I wasn't thinking completely clearly, and she wasn't one to hide it from me. She would tell me immediately if I were being a fool.
    I found her in her infamous shrine room. Every time I went into the room. I found her glaring at the large portrait of her mother on the wall. She seemed to hate the woman in the picture, but I really knew nothing of the family's past. I was afraid of knowing why my mother glared with hatred at her own mother while she kept both her twin brother and younger sister locked up and under her complete control.
    "Felicity," I said softly as I walked into the room. I was always nervous when approaching her in this room. She always seemed to be in some deep meditation, where she could hurl angry words at the mother she seemed to despise more than anything.
    She turned and saw me standing there, nervously in the doorway. "Yes? Is something wrong, Travis?"
    I nodded. "Yes, it's Bambi." She raised her eyebrows for me to go on, and I sighed and sat in a chair to the right of her. "Well, she's pregnant and I was thinking that maybe I could help her."
    "Help her how?" Immediate alarm jumped into her eyes. "You do know that she is your sister, Travis, I know that you know that."
    "I swear I would keep it strictly a marriage of name only. She doesn't deserve to be treated badly because of a baby she never willingly made." I could feel her eyes burning into me, trying to decide if I could actually keep it platonic.
    "Bambi is a very pretty girl, Travis," she observed out loud. "She also saved your life. Are you sure you're not just being a silly romantic with silly ideas?"
    I nodded. "Yes, ma'am. I promise that I feel nothing for Bambi but appreciation and friendship. We both know that we are siblings, and I would never allow it to get farther than that."
    "Do you want my blessing? What do you want me to say or do?" she asked.
    "You're her guardian. Allow me to marry her and take care of her. She'll never be able to have a normal relationship with any man after what he did to her." I felt a fire of anger in my belly at just the thought of what he had done to his own daughter.
    She sighed. "You must promise, Travis, that should you fall in love with her, blood or not, and she doesn't feel the same and wants to leave, you must let her go. You must promise never to hold on too tightly. Never get too attached. Chances are this arrangement won't last long if she is able to have a normal relationship."
    I agreed quickly. "I promise that I'll never assume that she'll stay with me forever. And I'll let her go the moment she says that she is ready."
    "Are you willing to be a father, Travis?" Felicity looked thoughtfully at me, a warning shining somewhere within their blue depths. "You do know that by marrying Bambi, you are as much a parent to that child as she is."
    I swallowed. That hadn't been something I'd really thought about. I nodded, anyway. "Yes, I can do it, Felicity. You know that I am responsible."
    She nodded. "All right, then. You may do this. But you must have Bambi's full cooperation and she must know that she is allowed to leave at any time."
    I left the room to go find Bambi, my heart pounding nervously. I continuously asked myself what I was doing as I made my way slowly up the stairs towards her room. It was where she spent most of her time. She wasn't difficult to find.
    Could I do this? Could I really take care of this child as if it were my own? Could I really marry a girl that was my sister in blood? Sure, it wouldn't be a true marriage, but wasn't it still wrong, somehow? I felt sick, but I knew that I had to do it. She had saved me, now it was my turn to save her.
    I knocked on the door gently, and when she didn't answer at first, I wasn't sure that I'd actually knocked. I knocked a bit harder and called to her. "Bambi? Are you in there? I need to speak to you."
    She opened the door, her hair messy, her eyes bloodstained. "What do you need?"
    All doubts flew from my mind the moment I saw her. I came into her room, gathering into my arms. "What's wrong? Are you all right? Why are you crying?"
    "Oh, it's silly really. It's not that big of a deal." She blushed, as if embarrassed.
    "What's wrong?" I demanded.
    She laughed a bit. "I lost something that I brought along with me. It's a snow globe that had been my mother's. I'm sure that it's in here; I just got so frustrated searching for it that I broke into tears. I often cry over silly things."
    I breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn't because she was depressed. I felt much better. But why I felt so close to her scared me in a way. There shouldn't be the kind of connection between us that there was. But I knew that it had something to do with one fact, she reminded me of my stepmother, Annie. Just as I'd wanted to take care of Mom, I wanted to take care of Bambi.
    I could actually compare Bambi to a wounded animal, reaching out for help, but too scared to completely take it. She seemed to want to be alone more than anything, hiding in her room, sleeping or not. She seemed frightened of all of the people in the house, especially Felicity. When it was time for her to see the doctor, she begged me to take her instead of my mother.
    "She's just frightening," she confided to me not long after she moved in. "I feel as if her eyes are watching my every move and can see right through to my every core. I feel as if she blames this on me."
    I smiled at her. "That's a silly thought," I insisted.
    But when I thought about it later, I thought that it might not be that silly. Felicity did have eyes like a lioness watching her prey. She watched every move you made and if she didn't like it, she pounced. She was a frightening person, with eyes of steel if she wanted. Felicity could turn her emotions on and off. It seemed rare that she ever "lost it", so to speak.
    "Anyway," Bambi said, "did you need something?"
    I nodded, and took her hands in mine. "Yes, please sit down here." I led her to the side of the bed where we sat facing one another. She tilted her head to the side, waiting for me to go on. I cleared my throat. "I want you to marry me, Bambi. That way you will have a father for your baby."
    Her eyes got extremely large. "But, Travis. I don't think I can do that. You're not only my half-brother and cousin, but I…" She blushed with embarrassment and shame.
    "That's what is so good about it, Bambi. I feel only friendship for you. You saved my life, now I will save yours. The marriage will be in name only." I quickly intercepted her before she could go on any further.
    She shook her head. "No, Travis. You mustn't do this. I will not have you devote your entire life to me just because of something our father did."
    I looked down sadly. "I have nothing else in my life, Bambi. I have a shaky relationship with my mother, no real friends. You're the only person that will talk to me or trust me anymore."
    "You're the only person I do trust and talk to," she admitted.
    "So, then it's perfect!" I decided. "I promise that should you find anyone else, or have a good reason, you may divorce me without a second thought."
    She sighed. "Alright, then. Those rules apply to you as well," she stubbornly insisted.
    I nodded, though I doubted that I could do that to her after what she'd done for me. "I agree. Then you agree?"
    She nodded, though her eyes shined uncertainly. "Yes, I agree. I just hope that this is the right thing."

Two months later Felicity had an entire wedding arranged. It was a beautiful wedding, one that Bambi should have been having later on in life with a man she loved. What hurt most was that she probably would never trust a man or be able to have a normal sexual relationship with one. Just the thought angered me further.
    Bambi was twenty-nine weeks, only eleven more weeks to go, pregnant, but there was only a bit of bulge in her belly. Her doctor was actually beginning to be concerned because the baby didn't seem to be growing at a normal rate. He insisted that Bambi eat as much as possible. However, Bambi didn't like to eat. She claimed it made her sick and would pick at her food like a small bird, the food on her plate hardly bothered by any movement.
    Nobody knew that it was a "fake" arrangement. Not even David, Kylie, Tawny or the children knew. Only Felicity knew that it was going to be a platonic marriage. And I wasn't about to tell them. It was none of their business, and neither Kylie nor Tawny had spoken to me in awhile. Kylie had hardly looked in my direction purposely since the incident at the hospital.
    Both Tawny and Kylie were in the wedding as bridesmaids. Kimberly was the flower girl and Tomas was the ring-bearer. It was all absolutely perfect to anyone invited. The guests took pictures and smiled and spoke to each other. Nobody would ever guess the troubles that plagued the family like a never-ending storm cloud.
    I waited at the altar for Bambi to walk down on David's arm. David was actually relieved that Kylie and I no longer spoke. He actually began to get along slightly better with me after our engagement was announced. He was the one who insisted that we rush it. It was already in Felicity's plans, but she smiled, nodded and pretended as if it was his idea.
    As Bambi walked down the aisle towards me, I smiled a smile of reassurance to her. She didn't have a veil and I could see that she was extremely pale. Makeup had been applied to her face, yet it looked gaudy against her sickly-looking flesh. She had dark circles beneath her eyes, and they appeared sunken in.
    I didn't get a chance to ask her what was wrong before our vows were exchanged and we had our first dance together as husband and wife. It wasn't much of a dance. I was holding her up for the most part. When I asked her if she was all right, she smiled weakly and nodded. "Just a little nervous," she insisted, and continued to move her feet slowly and unsurely.
    After the dance, she left to go sit down. Everyone else got onto the dance floor and began to enjoy their selves, dancing and socialising. I danced with a few of the guests and then decided that it was time to check on Bambi.
    On my way, however, Tawny stopped me and insisted I follow her into the front parlour away from everyone. "Why did you marry her?" she demanded, her hands on her hips.
    "I married her because I love her," I told her, not meeting her eyes. Tawny could spot a lie a mile away.
    Just as expected, she shook her head. "No, you don't, though. I know that you don't, Travis. Why would you do something like this?" Her voice calmed, and she walked closer to me.
    "She needs me more than anyone else, Tawny. Right now, Bambi needs to be cared for. She saved my life, so I am giving her something in return." I wanted her to understand so much.
    Pain came into her eyes. "I need you, too, Travis. I know you may think badly of me since that time in your room, but that's why I haven't spoken to you. And now you're married to a young girl you don't love. You are to be the father of a child that is not yours."
    "Tawny, you're a strong girl. You don't need me, and I've never thought badly of you," I told her, hugging her gently. "It's just that Bambi really does need me. She is weak and lost. Plus, as I told you, she saved my life. I must give her something for that."
    "Must you give her your life, just because she saved it?" she asked, the tears so vividly in her voice it broke my heart. I hugged her tighter to me.
    "Tawny, you know damned well that even if I hadn't done this, you could never be with me. Why do you torment yourself?" I could feel my own torment in my heart. I cared for Tawny more than I'd imagined until now.
    She let out a cry of frustration and pushed me away. "You will marry your sister, but can't even look two ways in my direction," she snapped viciously. "It sounds like your priorities are a little whacked out."
    "Tawny, you're my cousin and you're so much younger than me!" I insisted. "You know that this thing between Bambi and I will be simply platonic!"
    She looked at me with a sceptical glare. "I hardly believe that," she scoffed. "I see the way you look at her. You do want her and you use that she saved your life bit as an excuse."
    A blush tinted my cheeks. "That is so very far from the truth, Tawny. If you only knew…"
    "Knew what?" she demanded with her hands on her hips. "You're only angry because you know what I say is true!"
    I didn't think before I wrapped my arm about her waist and pulled her to me. I pressed my lips to hers in a kiss that was so thoroughly arousing it shocked me. Never had I experienced anything like the sparks shooting between us. I grew frightened and thrust her away from me.
    She looked utterly shocked. Her hand on her chest, as if willing her heart to slow, as I was my own. She was trying to gather her composure, and yet I could see in her eyes that it had frightened her, too. Her eyes were wide and she looked at me, frightened, excited and with a million and one questions.
    "Now you know," I growled, and hurriedly left the room. My heart was pumping so hard in my chest, I was sure it was about to break free of my chest. She had angered me, yet she had made me want her all in one breath. I hated knowing that I cared for her to that extent. I was always afraid of it being more than silly lust. Yet, it was. It truly was.

Incomplete

Completed Stories Incomplete Stories

Alessandra Azzaroni Sarah Ryniker, Ashleen Woods & Alessandra Azzaroni Ashleen Woods Sarah Ryniker Rebecca Gustafson Alex Simon Anita Sydelle Molli Moran Bunny Edwards Noah Lee Virtue Steppnewskii Jaime Franco Leigh Mikage Goss Gem Kitty Yacomeni Sherry A Mauro

Fan Fiction The Authors Name List

Home Thanks The Books Fan Fiction Mood Music Links