Corrupt(155)

I drive down the dark, narrow lane, nothing but trees and a sea of gray, black, and white stones to my left and right.

Stopping at the top of a small hill, I park and turn off the car, already spotting what I think is a pair of legs lying on the grass a ways down.

Jesus.

Racing down the grass in between headstones, I see Rika lying over her father’s grave, curled up and tucking her hands into her chest.

I stop and gaze down at her sleeping, for a moment seeing that baby from so long ago.

Kneeling down on one knee, I slide my hands underneath her body and lift her up, so small and light.

She squirms in my arms. “Michael?” she says.

“Shhh,” I soothe. “I’ve got you.”

“I don’t want to go home,” she protests, reaching up to hook a hand over my shoulder with her eyes still closed.

“Neither do I.”

I spot a stone bench a few yards back up the hill and carry her, guilt racking through me over how cold her skin is.

I shouldn’t have left her.

Sitting down on the bench, I keep her in my lap as she lays her head against my chest, and I hold her close, trying to warm her or do anything to make her feel better.

“I shouldn’t have said those things to you,” I admit in a raspy voice. “Your scar isn’t ugly.”

She slides her arms around my waist and presses close, shivering. “You never apologize,” she states. “To anybody.”

“I’m not apologizing.” I shoot back, kind of joking.

I am apologizing, actually. I feel bad, but I have a hard time ever admitting I did anything wrong. Probably because my father never fails to let me know anyway.

But she’s right. I never apologize. People take the shit I dole out, but not her. She ran away from me. In the dark. Into a cemetery.

“You got a lot of guts,” I tell her. “I don’t. I’m just a coward that picks on kids.”

“That’s not true,” she replies, and I can tell there’s a smile in there somewhere.

But she doesn’t see what I see. She’s not in my head. I’m a coward, and I’m mean, and I feel so fucking aggravated all the time.

I tighten my hold on her, trying to keep her warm. “Can I tell you something, kid?” I ask, a lump swelling in my throat. “I’m always afraid. I do what he tells me to do. I stand and speak, or I stay silent, and I never say no to anything he wants. I never stand up for myself.”

I told her she was weak. But it was me. I’m weak. I hate who I am. Everything gets in my head, and I have no control.

“People don’t see me, Rika,” I confide. “I only exist except as a reflection of him.”

She tilts her head up a little, her eyes still closed.

“That’s not true,” she mumbles sleepily. “You’re always the first person I notice in a room.”

My eyebrows pinch together in sadness, and I turn my head away, afraid she can hear my heavy breathing.

“Do you remember when your mom made you and your friends take Trevor and me hiking with you last summer?” she asks. “You let us do everything. You let us get close to the edge of the cliff. Climb boulders. You let Trevor swear…” Her fingers curl into my back, clutching my T-shirt. “But you wouldn’t let us go too far. You said we needed to save our energy for the return trip. That’s how you are.”

“What do you mean?”

She inhales a deep breath and then exhales. “Well, it’s like you’re saving your energy for something. Holding back,” she says, nestling into me and getting comfortable. “But it doesn’t make any sense. Life is one-way, and there is no return trip. What are you waiting for?”

My chest shakes for a moment, and I stare down at her, her words hitting me like a truck.

What am I waiting for?

The rules, the restraints, the expectations, and what was considered acceptable were things that held me back, but they were all things of other people’s design. Other people’s restraints. Other people’s rules and expectations.

And they were all an illusion. They only exist when I let them.

She’s absolutely right.

What is my father going to do to me, and do I care?

I want that.

You can’t have it.

Well, what happens if I take it anyway?

I want to do that.

You can’t.

Who’s going to stop me?

Jesus, she’s right. What the fuck am I waiting for? What can he do?

I want a little havoc, a little trouble, a little fun, a chance to go where my heart takes me…who the hell’s going to stop me?

Every tense muscle in my body begins to slowly relax, and the knots in my stomach start to uncoil. My skin buzzes, and I feel my insides flip, forcing me to hold back a smile.