Burning Bridges (12 page)

Feven followed me into the small kitchenette and sat down at the table. The sound of her boots on the tiled floor
was
heavy and dragging. I watched her
silently
.
“
Want something to drink?
”
I asked her, just to cut the silence.

“
Sure.
”
The low ceiling lamp illuminated the new
tattoos on the side on her face
. A
lot of things were new about Feven lately.

“
That
’
s nice.
”
She pointed to the picture hanging on the wall of my
parents
. I remembered the picture being taken as if it were yesterday. I was only eight,
but the memory was something th
at would always stick with me. They
were the only times
of happiness, wh
en Misty and Milo were
still very young
and my parents were happy and
lively
. Now
, though, one taste of reality was
all I need
ed
to know that things w
ould
never be that way again, no matter how hard I
strived
for it.

“
They miss you, you know?
”
I hand
ed
her the glass of water and watch
ed
her gulp it down greedily as if she hadn
’
t had somet
hing to drink in ages. I took
the seat acr
oss from her and tried
my best
to seem civilized
.
“
Why
’
d you leave?
”

“
Why does it matter?
I left.
”
She slid me the empty glass and, not catching my eye, began to play with the loose threads of her sweater sleeve.
“
Things have changed, you know that.
”

I frowned.
“
No, I don
’
t know. What exactly has changed, Feven?
”

Her voice was noticeably smaller when she answered,
“
I have. But I
’
ve been doing well. Getting better, I mean. Mimi says she
’
s proud of me.
”

Feven had been battling the wars of depression since her mother
’
s death when she was three. I
’
d known her since, and just enough to
know
that Feven lied so much that she even believed the tales as truths. Now, as she c
ould
b
arely look me in the eyes, I knew she wa
s the furthest thing from recovery.
“
You shouldn
’
t have left,
”
I told her.
“
Knowing that
I
have so much on my hands to deal with already, I
’
d expect you to understand
that
better
than anyone else.
I can
’
t be worrying about my family
and
making sure you have somewhere to sleep and food to eat every night.
”

“
You
don
’
t have to worry about me,
”
she said dismissively with a wave of her hand. When she caught the worry in my eyes, she continued.
“
I met someone.
”

“
Who?
”
The urgency in my voice was
no mistake.

She cleared her throat and only then did she look me in the eyes, as if to confirm she was trying so hard to make her lie sound as honest as possible.
“
It
’
s no one, really. Just someone that I met. They
’
re going to take care of me.
”

“
So why are you here
tonight?
”
I asked her.

“
They had to be somewhere—with someone.
”
Her eyes flashed a gleam of hatred, unmistakable as they stared back at me
through heavy eyelids. She rolled
back her shoulders and sh
ook
her head.
“
Let
’
s not talk about this, eh? How
’
s Carys doing?
”

“
My mother
’
s fine,
”
I said. That w
as when my eyes had left hers i
n both shame and disclosure.
“
Much better, but it
’
s not a constant thing. One day she
’
s walking to the market and back, and the next she can barely
leave her bed.
”

Feven reached across the table and her hands covered
mine. I stared down at our joined
fingers for a long moment, trying to decide how it made me feel. Finally, I got up and figured I really didn
’
t care
what feelings it evoked
. I
’
d been a standing brick since day one and a foolish
,
little girl wasn
’
t even close to the sanity I craved for.

“
I
’
ve been praying for her still,
”
Feven whispered.

“
To who
m
?
”
I laughed.
“
To the gods that find pe
ace in watching their children suffer
? Some hope we have.
”

She said nothing, but I could sense her mind stretching for
the right
words.
The silence went on for so long that neither one of us
could take it any longer. I
had to move away.

Before I made it out of the kitchen, she stopped me.
“
What happened to us?
”
she whispered. There was a tremor in her voice.

It was a simple question, really.
“
Ti
me, life, and history. Those things you seem to have forgotten
. When you remember all that New Haven has stripped from you, ask yourself that question and make sure you have an answer.
I
’
m sure you
’
ll be more grateful for the things you have.
Revenge, Feven,
it is
solace. The only thing I
’
ve ever called home.
”

She still had nothing to say as I walked down the hall to the bedroom, nor did I expect her to. I didn
’
t care if I
’
d answered her or not. Truthfully, I
’
d answered some question buried within myself, a question I
’
d been seeking answers to for far too long.
“
Revenge,
”
I whispered to myself. The word tasted like venom on my tongue, but sounded like a
siren
’
s call to my ears. So sweet, yet filled with so much hostility. Was it a sin to
want both?

I never checked to see if Feven would move from the kitchen, but w
hen I rolled over in the middle of the night, I found
her
on the floor, huddle
d
under a few jackets I assumed she
’
d brought
with
her.
She shivered and murmured something incoherent. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I walked over to the window, slid the drapes apart, and locked the window shut. I considered leaving
her
as she was on the floor, but then again, I was never the heartless type. 

I pulled
a few blankets from an old wicker
dresser and threw them to the floor. Feven
garbled
something again, and I sighed.

“
Feve,
”
I whispered, gently tapping her shoulder.

She stirred but didn
’
t move. I tried again, but all she did was swat
my hand
away. Angry this time
because I wasn
’
t in the mood, I slid my arms under her and carried her to the bed. She weighed nothing as she shifted in my arms.

“
I
’
m trying, Feven,
”
I whispered, laying her down and pulling the blankets up to her neck. She murmured something that sounded like
‘
goodnight
’
then turned over and fell right back to sleep.

Making myself comfortable on the flo
or, I felt my mind begin to drift
. It was unbidden at first, the memories that
plagued
me, but I relaxed and let them take me.
That night I dreamt of the future, or was it of the past? It was before Mother got sick, before we moved to Shadow Hills, and right when I had first met Feven.

Feven Damkuri.

She wa
s a puny little thing, with her russet
ponytails, wobbly knees, skinny features, and
a
thin waist. She wasn
’
t anything special to look at, but she always made sure she was noticed by everyone.
S
chool was j
ust a few blocks away from home
back in Loracre
and,
like all the kids, I
’
d walk
ed
the ways to class. Sin
ce Loracre was closer to the outland bay
, the streets were full of sand and not many people bothered to waste money on
horses
when they
’
d notic
ed the deficit. I was in the seventh
fo
rm then and Feven was in the fifth
. Though I wasn
’
t exactly popular, I had friends.
Feven
,
on the other hand, had no one. Shame to say, I wasn
’
t one to care.

But that day, when I saw her in the alley crying, something broke in me. Perhaps because the sadness that seemed to consume her day after da
y was the same thing I saw in myself
when I found out my mother was dying. The urge to go to her and help was strong, but never being a comforter, I dismissed it. It was
n’t
until th
at day outside by the old play
ground, watching her staring out at the bay as if she was lost out at sea, that I decided to do something.

It took everything in me to go to her and say,
“
You
’
re sad.
”
The play
ground was empty, we were the only ones. While the rest of the children had scurried home, we lingered.

“
Really? I didn
’
t notice.
”
She wiped the tears from her eyes and took another step closer to the waters.
“
What are you doing here, Grey? Want another good laugh at the girl with greasy hair? Or the one without a mother?
”
I
had
froze
n
.
“
Well, I
’
m not going anywhere
,
so take a long, good look at me.
”

My mind twisted with confusion. I knew she was picked on a lot, but I never paid much attention to it, nor di
d I care. Now, though, I felt ba
d for not doing something.
“
I
’
m sorry
about your mother, Feven
. She was real nice to me;
my mother knew her well.
”

“
No one knew her like I did!
”
s
he shouted
,
with her hands up in exasperation.
“
My mother was the…
S
he was the wisest woman I knew. She taught me everything when Father left. I took care of her for years, Grey. It was just her and I. Now she
’
s gone and I have no one.
”
She took another step closer to the bay.
“
I
’
m so lost.
”