Existing (7 page)

I stand up and wander back into the bathroom, placing the towel back onto the rail. “We sure can. Now how about some chicken?”

Four hours later, my Father still isn’t home and Hallie hasn’t come back out of her bedroom. I’ve cooked both Ava and I dinner, helped her to research what felt like a million different things on the internet, and put her to bed. I peek around her door and see her sprawled out and fast asleep on top of her covers.

I fee
l suffocated. I have to get out…now. I run into my room and pull on my exercise clothes and my sneakers and head out the back door before I have a chance to worry about what Hallie will say or do if she finds out that I’ve left.

I don’t really know why I bother to come here, I think, as
I walk among the gravestones, letting my hands trail over the top of some of them. It’s not like they’re actually buried here or anything.

I look at some of the names and ages on the tombstones. Most of them I’ve seen a hundred times before. Some of them I st
ill can’t bring myself to read.

The inky-black night has settled itself over the graves
, but instead of it seeming creepy or weird, it feels peaceful. Maybe that’s why I sneak out of my bedroom window most nights and come here. It’s not that I feel any closer to them or that I suddenly think I can hear them when I step into the cemetery. It’s just simple and peaceful, and I like that. Riley would go nuts if he knew I liked to hang out at the cemetery until the early hours.

I step away from the rows of graves and start to walk up th
e grassy bank that leads to an oak tree that I like to sit under. When I’m halfway up the hill, I hear a ticking, sort of whirling noise. I instinctively crouch down into the grass, hoping I’m not seen. I can tell that the noise is coming from the gate on the east side. A few seconds later, a bicycle appears on the concrete path that streaks all the way through the cemetery. I watch the person that’s riding it and how their legs keep on turning over and over, forcing the pedals to whirl around and around. They’re going fast. Whoever it is that’s riding it is clearly on some sort of mission.

I freeze when they turn off the path and start to head up the bank towards me. I flatten myself out so I won’t be seen and hold my breath.

The bike and its rider whizz past me at a ridiculous speed. They must have really strong legs to get up this bank at that sort of speed. They carry on right up the hill until they get to my tree.
My
tree. They jump off their bike, unclick their helmet, and let it drop onto the floor with a thump and then throw themselves onto the ground.

I can hear my breaths as they push out of my nose and how they’re quick and panicky. What the hell is Roisin Williams doing in my cemetery
, and why the hell is she lying on the damp grass crying her eyes out at ten at night?

It’s been an hour. Her cries have settled down to nothing more than sobs, but I’ve shamelessly sat here listening without attempting to go anywhere near her to see if she’s alright. If she’s here, then she clearly wants to be alone. I get that. I have to respect it.

I don’t move when she finally sits up and rubs at her face. I still don’t move when she climbs back onto her bike and pedals down the hill. I still don’t move even when she’s disappeared out of the east gate.

How dare she? How dare she raise her hand to my daughter like that? Of all the things I’ve ever thought about Hallie,
a child abuser was not one of them. Not until today anyway. I am fuming. I am delirious with rage. I haven’t stopped running up and down the stairs and through the house since it happened. I’ve never wished to be alive again so badly. I want to hit her in her face and show her how much it hurts. I want to punish her. I want to strike her over and over again and not just for what she’s done to Roisin’s face tonight, but for everything. I despise that woman. I can’t wait for the day I get to watch her being dragged kicking and screaming to hell.

I breeze into Roisin’s room and look at her sore eye and face as she sleeps. I can’t imagine the things that are going through her mind right now. She must be so confused and scared.

Roisin shouldn’t have to be frightened in her own house. Her life would be full of sunshine and laughter if I was still alive. I hate that I was taken from her and I hate God for letting it happen.

I listen to her breathing softly into her pill
ow. She sleeps on her side in the fetal position, just like I used to do. I want to curl up behind her and soothe her. I want to whisper in her ear that everything will soon be alright. And it’s not because she doesn’t hear me that I don’t, it’s because I wouldn’t believe what I was saying. I’m not sure that it will be alright. Not yet anyway.

L
ance seems to be oblivious to Hallie and what’s happening right under his nose. How can he be that stupid and that removed from his family to not see the destruction that his wife is causing?

My head
snaps up when the door opens. Lance walks in, still wearing his work suit, and places a small, wrapped box onto Roisin’s desk. Even though I’m blaming him for every bad thing that has ever happened to my daughter, I can’t help but look at his tired face and feel sorry for him for being such a pathetic man, and for being so stupid when he was younger to get himself caught in Hallie’s web.

He’s still a very attractive man
, and although the lines of age have started to creep onto his face, he’s still stunningly beautiful. I watch him flick through the papers on Roisin’s desk and check through her homework using the stream of moonlight that filters in through her window. I know he cares about Roisin, but he doesn’t appear to be caring enough. His issues with Roisin are my fault, and he needs to look beyond the fact that his daughter says she sees a ghost. Just because he doesn’t believe or understand it, doesn’t mean he should be so dismissive of it.

He bends down and gently kisses her head. He shouldn’t do those things when she’s in the slumber of sleep because she doesn’t know it is happening. She needs to see his love
, as well as feel it. I sigh and sit on the floor in the middle of the white room.

He creeps out of her room and down the hallway.

I follow.

I watch him splash his face with water in the bathroom before he wanders into his bedroom. His foot catches on something and I’m not sure what it is until he bends down and picks up an empty vodka bottle. He sighs, shakes his head and removes his tie.

I glare at Hallie, who is lying on her bed with her mouth hanging open, wearing nothing but her panties. Her fake breasts sit perfectly on her chest but our husband doesn’t pay her or her breasts any attention. He picks the corner of the duvet up and throws it over her dismissively. I follow him into the bathroom where he flicks the shower on and stands texting or emailing someone for ten minutes. When he starts to undress, I leave him alone in his own self-pity and disappear.

It’s still dark when I feel a pair of hands roaming over the top of my covers. I feel fingers in my hair and then a face suddenly appears right next to mine.

“Happy b
irthday, Rose,” whispers Ava in her cute, early-morning sleepy voice.

I smile and wrap my arms around her, pulling her into bed with me. I squeeze her tight and kiss the top of her forehead. “Thank you,
titch.”

She giggles and nuzzles into the side of my neck. “Are you going to open your presents?”

I blink at her, wondering if I’ve missed something. “What presents?”

She wiggles out o
f the bed and plods over toward my desk. I see her grab something and then she’s smiling as she walks back toward me. “These ones!”

I sit up and rub my face. “Wow,” I breathe, “thank you, Ava.”

“That one,” she says, pointing at a tiny pink present, “is from me.” She grabs a small, silver-wrapped present and places it into my hand. “And this one is from Daddy and my Mommy.”

I smile at her, placing the silver present back onto the bed and grab the small pink one. “I think I’ll open this one first.”

“Open fast,” she orders.

I do as she says and tear the wrapping paper from the present and find a silver key ring. I turn it over
and see the half broken heart with the words ‘best sister’ inscribed on it. I smile at Ava. “It’s beautiful,” I tell her.

She nods. “I got the other half. It means we’re both
the bestest sisters.”

I ruffle my hands through her hair and pull her into me. I hug her for what feels like forever before I realize the time.

“Ava!” I shriek.

“What?” she giggles.

“It’s your first day of school! We have to get you ready!”

“
Yesss!” she laughs as she spins around and around.

I step off the school bus and smile when I see Charlotte waving at me from one of the benches on the path that leads to th
e front doors. As I walk toward her, I see her tiny purple dress and black tights and wonder if I should perhaps reconsider my wardrobe. I have nice clothes, but none of them seem anything like what the girls at school wear. The idea of shopping makes me smile. I can’t believe that I’m actually thinking of going shopping with a girlfriend. I’m changing.

“Hey,
Rose,” she beams as I near her. I watch her eyes fall onto my bruise and then see her face fall. “What happened to your eye?”

I skim my fingers across it and shrug. “Oh, it’s nothing. I tripped and fell on the kitchen floor.” I’ve tried to cover the angry purple bruise up as much as I can and have parted my hair on the opposite side of my head so it drapes across my face
, but I know it’s not enough.

She hesitates for a moment before she seems to reluctantly accept my lie. “It looks really painful,” she says quietly.

I nod and sit beside her.

“
Ooooh, those earrings are nice.”

I smile. “Thanks. T
hey’re from my Dad actually. I woke up to a little present on my desk this morning, so he must have put it there when I was asleep last night.”

She leans back and tilts her face up to the sun. “Does he do that often?”

I laugh and shake my head. “No, only on special occasions I guess.”

She suddenly sits up and narrows her eyes at me. “Is it a special occasion?”

“Not really,” I say, trying to avoid telling her. She continues to stare at me with a questioning look on her face and I know I’m not going to hear the end of it. “Okay,” I say, “but you have to promise not to tell anyone.”

She grins at me and nods.

“It’s my birthday, but I don’t like a fuss.”

She squeals before
pulling me into a hug. “Happy birthday, Rose! Why don’t you want anyone to know?”

I wrinkle my face up and nod toward Cora and
Hannah who are approaching us. “I just don’t like the extra attention.”

She frowns but nods and greets the girls. Both of them say
‘hello’ and then frown or look worried when they see my eye.

Charlotte waves her hand. “If you’re wondering what she’s done to her eye but
don’t want to ask her, then I can tell you that she fell.”

Cora and
Hannah both look at me and make sad faces. I groan inwardly, knowing I’m going to be asked that question a million times today. Maybe if I repeat myself often enough, then even I’ll start to believe the lie. We all walk into the building chatting easily about last night’s homework, but when the conversation turns to a party that they’re all invited to, I zone out. I’m too busy thinking about what chores I need to do later and planning on how to stay out of Hallie’s way, that I don’t notice Cabe walking toward me until he collides into me. Both of us stagger back in confusion, but when he realizes it’s me, he smiles. I spy the three girls all smiling and giving me the thumbs up from behind him, and I lower my face to hide my smile.

“We
need to stop meeting like this,” he says smoothly.

I nod.
“Sorry – again.”

He laughs and says, “A
ctually, this time it really was my fault. I was too busy reading this.” He waves a leaflet in my face.

“What is it?” I ask, as I watch the girls walk
ing away toward class.

“A pamphlet about the spring ball.”

“Oh,” I say, not really knowing what one is, seeing as though I’ve never been to one.

He cocks his head to one side and I know he’s looking at my eye. “Who did that to you?”

My head snaps up. No one has asked ‘who’ before, just ‘how.’

“I fell,” I lie, but it doesn’t stream out so easily or sound as convincing this time.

He frowns and says, “Really? You fell onto someone’s clenched fist?”