39. RAVEN

39

RAVEN

Darkness, right? It's easier to do unspeakable things under the veil of the night. It's easier to talk about those things in the dark, too.

Thunder cracks outside, and I suddenly feel like I do in my alcove among the rocks. The storm outside resonates with the dark feelings that start creeping up to the surface. And I want to get them out.

"There's one person in my life I ever cared about," I say. "Before juvie. Only one who cared about me. My foster sister, Emily."

Usually, I make Maddy talk, but tonight feels different. I feel the urge to share the one thing that I thought I did right for once, but that led to all my regrets later.

"Emily was sweet," I go on. "A little sunshine. That type, you know. White hair, white brows, white lashes, blue eyes, heart of gold. And the biggest toothless smile. So beautiful. She could make me forget about the cigarette burns on my skin. And the stitches done sloppily by my foster father that got infected once."

Maddy shifts just slightly, then stills again. I don't know how much she saw of how her father handled his enemies. But she asked about my past. Finally, I answer.

"I was fourteen, and Emily was ten when we ended up in the same foster house. It hurt to see her being used by that animal, our foster father. Though I don't think animals deserve to be compared to him. Animals don't do things to each other that we humans do. Depravity and cruelty are solely human traits."

My heartbeat spikes. My stomach starts twisting at the memories. I go quiet for a little while to level my thoughts. Sometimes, memories become wounds. If you let go, they heal and turn into scars. If not, they fester, and eventually, they can spread the infection through your entire life.

"I didn't know what he did to her. I wasn't old enough to realize the depravity of what was happening when he took her downstairs and locked himself with her for hours in the basement. Sometimes, she'd be gone till morning. And I would see her at breakfast, the light in her eyes put out, her little body twitching at the sound of my approaching footsteps. Until she would realize it was me. ‘Mathew!' she'd cry out every time, and that happy light in her eyes was back."

I hold my breath, trying to kill the burn in my throat just thinking about those times. It still hurts. It still makes my stomach turn. It blinds me with rage, though that pig is dead. It makes we want to kill the foster mother who only took in kids for the paycheck. I want to sink into the bed and disappear. And I start rubbing my thumb over the missing phalanges on my left hand to calm myself.

Deep breaths, talk, get it out , I tell myself.

"I tried to do anything during the day to keep that light in her eyes shining. I stole donuts from the school cafeteria so I could bring them home to her because she loved them. I stole money so I could buy her a picture book and a ticket to a zoo. But at night, that monster would take her to the basement, and in the morning that light in her eyes was gone again. I attacked him many times. Got punched. Got hit by a metal rod so hard it spilt my skin and broke my rib. He would take me to the basement, but I was a different kind of entertainment for him. I think that's why I didn't know back then what he did to her. Unlike me, she never had visible wounds. The drunk pig often tied me to a chair and tested me. Said, I ‘needed to become a man.' His words. His favorite punishment was tying me up after he beat me senseless and saying, ‘Let's see how brave you are now.' He would stitch my split skin with a needle and thread, disinfecting it by pouring his booze on me."

I grit my teeth, trying to kill the bile rising to my throat. "He once said, ‘Next time, I sew your lips shut and make you watch me with our precious little Emily.' And I cried, shaking with anger. And she cried, shaking with fear as he led her downstairs again…"

Maddy is quiet, and I exhale slowly, so slowly, so as not to show my emotions.

"They sent me back to the group home sometime after. Said I didn't fit in. Said I was violent. Sent me away but not her. But I promised her I'd come back. And I did, a year later. For him… I wasn't strong enough. I thought having a weapon was easy. But monsters like him are stronger. He beat me senseless that night, in that basement, then brought her in and made her watch as he sliced strips of skin off me."

Silence is heavy between us, but my memories are like lead.

"I was fifteen when they sent me to juvie for stabbing my foster father to death. Emily sent me letters every month. She turned fourteen when she came for a visit with a case worker, and there was a different light in her eyes. The sparkly one, feverish, induced by the only cure for that sort of pain—heroine. The caseworker wouldn't listen to me when I told her. And Emily only smiled. ‘I miss you,' she said. She sent one more letter after that, and then the letters stopped. I was let out when I was eighteen and went back for her. No one knew where she was until the neighbor told me where to find her. ‘Her and her bunch.' Said it with a nasty smirk and pointed to the cemetery. Turns out, Emily took too much one night, and there wasn't enough light to bring her back."

I suck in my cheeks to hold back the burn in my eyes. Life is not always fair, but what's worse is the adults who can't see through their own rotted minds.

"She loved those donuts," I say quieter. "She called me Mathew. And I can't stand that name. The name of the failure who couldn't save the only person who cared."

Right away, I regret what I told Maddy. Now she thinks she's sharing a bed with a killer.

But her hand on my heart flattens, her thumb gently brushing against my shirt.

"You are too hard on yourself," she says quietly, not looking at me. "When you get used to hating your past, you forget to remember that there are those in your present who don't need a reason to love you and appreciate you. They just do. And they feel privileged to have even a little bit of attention."

She doesn't know what she is talking about. There are no such people in my life besides Mac.

"Sonny adores you, you know," she says.

My chest tightens at the words. I want to argue and say that he adores everyone, but before I do, she speaks again.

"You might not realize it, but everyone else knows that on this island, you are Sonny's favorite person. That means you are his favorite person in the entire world, Raven."

We don't say anything else. I lie for the longest time, taking in what she said, listening to the storm outside, imagining how the past could have been different, how the present could have been different with Maddy if I wasn't who I was.

Maddy shifts again, rubbing her cheek against my shoulder and raising her face toward me, but her eyes are closed, and there's this cute sound coming from her—she is sleeping. Her body relaxes, naturally sagging against mine. Her expression is so peaceful like there is no worry in the world.

I wish I was the man who could make her feel that safe all the time.

But I don't deserve her. I don't deserve the little dude snoring on the couch. And I definitely don't deserve her kissing me.

But I am a criminal, right? And I always take what I want.

So carefully, so as not to wake her, I lean over and press my lips to hers just for a second, stealing the first kiss.