Chapter 31

"You said you never have been on a boat before. So how does it feel?" He asked from where he sat across from me in the canoe.

I felt my smile grow, looking down at the boat and at the slightly rippling water in the otherwise still lake. We were in the middle of the beautiful and private lake, all surrounded by pines and maples. The paddles that penetrated the crystal water stopped moving. Luke was rowing but stopped upon his question, waiting for a response. We had just come out here after he showed me this little boat that was wrapped in the woods. Apparently, it was his families and they kept it up here to use it as they wished.

"I love this," I said, looking down at my distorted reflection from the light waves. It was amazing, to know we were over water and not wet or in the water at all. This was really new to me.

I glanced back up and saw Luke took hold of both handles of the paddles and start rowing, moving the canoe around and across the lake. I couldn't help my eyes from finding his strong arms at work, the muscles he possessed tight with every pull. When I met his eyes though, his smile slightly dimmed at seeing I was observing him. I chuckled and raised my eye brow, hiding my embarrassment at being caught as best as I could by teasing. He smiled slightly, looking away and scoffing himself. This was interesting.

"Have you ever tipped over before?" I asked.

He offered a smile to me again, the jade in his eyes lighting up from the sunlight. The trees no longer shadowed us as we were now in the center of the lake, and still moving smoothly.

"Once before. Why, are you afraid of tipping?" he asked, and as he paddled, he lifted one from the water a little sharper and purposefully splashed me a bit. I gasped slightly, lightly jumping and heard his laughter. It was only a few drops but it was still surprising.

As he laughed, I flipped him off and couldn't help laughing myself. "No, but can't a girl wonder around here?" I also couldn't go without mentioning the slight discomfort I was staring to feel. "My ass is bound to be sore soon enough though. You need some padded or cushioned seats in this bitch."

He chuckled and continued to paddle around the lake. We were silent for a minute, only listening to the sound of the birds and trickle of water as he paddled. It was peaceful and nice, relaxing.

"Are you alright with me asking you a few more questions?" He asked, eyes showing a little hesitation when they met mine.

I sighed. "I guess. But I want my turn eventually."

He nodded, understanding. And soon, we were back to him asking me shit and me answering with surprising honesty. But really, wimpy sounding or not, I still liked speaking with him. He wasn't judging me like others did. He was forming an opinion based on the actual truth. No matter if he bought what I said or not, he still understood that is was real to me. What ever I had to say, he trusted I had been through it.

"What do you want to know now? Since I am the most interesting person you know and you worship my very existence."

He smile and took a small breath. Then, he spoke. "You told me about your dad before. But would you ever want to see him again or meet with him?"

I was a little surprised by this question. I was expecting something about Clare or something along the lines of my treatment around town like before. Plus, he asked about my dad before but since he was asking again, it raised a brow on just what it was that drove him to ponder over such an absent son of a bitch.

It took me a minute to answer. I never thought about it, surprisingly. I couldn't imagine what it would be like to face him, talk to him. What would I say? How would I even feel about talking to him? "I'm not really sure. It would be interesting but I wouldn't care to have him involved with my life."

He nodded, thoughtful as he continued to row in that same motion. "Did you ever have a pet?"

Strange question. Looking in his eyes, I saw there was more to it though than just those words. I had a good guess but I would first answer him. His curiosity spoken brought up a memory, one that would always hurt to think about. But hell, most memories were hard to think about.

I looked away, not wanting to meet his eyes right then. "Never allowed. Pets are something I actually think Clare wouldn't mind, surprisingly. But she--"

"She's allergic to animals," he interrupted my words. But they were the truth and looking back to him, I saw his eyes were shadowed, lips tight in seeing that he knew I was telling the truth this time. I couldn't help but wonder if he was pondering what other things I could have possibly be telling the truth about.

I sighed. "Yeah, she is. And because she never could have the pleasure of having a pet, that meant I had to suffer as well from that. Except it was much harsher than just not having a pet," I said, frowning deeply at the very vivid memory.

My mind left the present, going to the past where ten year old me presided. She never allowed pets. And being ten, I knew just how much she would hate if she found out what I had done. But I couldn't help it, especially since I always wanted a pet. Besides that, I just couldn't let an injured bird die right in front of me. Something happened to the poor guy that made him struggle the way he did outside my bedroom window, his wings in a fluttering chaos but he didn't really move. What else was I suppose to do other than open my window and help him?

That was what led to where me and Birdie were a week later. He couldn't fly. So, I took care of him, as my pet. I named him Birdie and he became my best friend. Of course, that was something I hid from my mother. I didn't think it would be too hard.

"Birdie, do you think your momma misses you?" I asked him, glancing over to where he was perched in his make shift nest I made; it consisted of a wrapped blanket. I even added a few leaves to make it feel more like home to him. I was siting next to where he comfortably laid on my bed, the open window in front of us bringing us fresh spring air as we looked out it.

His answer was to give a slight purr from within him, his beady black eyes looking out the window with me. Sitting with my legs crossed next to him, I looked back down to him as I spoke. "Once your wing gets better, you'll be able to travel home."

I looked back out the window in slight sadness, taking in the leaves of the trees as well as the other free birds soaring by. Me and Birdie watched them go by everyday, and in the hopes he would heal, the window was open in case he wanted to try to fly. But he was always just comfortable, sitting in his little blanket next to me. Of course, during the night I would put him in his little shoe box. It looked like a real bed for him too. I would be happy if that stayed his bed forever. I didn't want him to leave and lose my best friend. But I knew he had to be missing his family and they must have missed him.

I glanced back down at where he laid in his blanket, looking out the window. I lightly ran my finger down Birdie's feathers, softly petting him. Smiling down at him, I felt the breeze against us again and heard the flapping sound coming from outside. It held his attention, Birdie's eyes on it. I eyed the fresh sign I made this morning too, having taped it flat to the roof so all the other birds could see it from the sky.

I explained to him why I had to make a new one. "Birdie, I had to make another one this morning since it rained last night," I said, sighing. Looking back to him, I spoke in a lighter voice, not wanting Birdie to worry. "But this one is even better. It has your name and your picture I drew of you. I was able to color it in too this time. There is a big arrow, pointing right towards this window here," I said, tapping the window sill. He tilted his little head slightly, watching my fingers. I smiled, raising my hand and pointing to the sign a few feet outside my window, taped to the roof.

"So this sign will lead them here so they will find you in case your wing doesn't get better. But don't worry Birdie, you'll go home soon." Petting him still, I frowned. "I'm gonna miss you though. I wish I could come with you and we can both fly away from here. That way we can still be together."

I sighed and grabbed the small plate of crumbs I had from my bread I smuggled up from dinner last night. Dumping some in my hand, I held out my hand in front of him. Birdie looked at it curiously before he started to jerk his head down and eat each little crumb and eat. His head still bobbing, I smiled.

"You know Birdie, you are much cooler than all those other white doves. They are just so stuck up, it makes me mad. I like your kind, Birdie. Grey doves. They are much nicer; always sitting at the edges of my roof and always relaxed so I can watch them out my window."

I bit my lip, daring a glance to Birdie. Would he think differently of me if I told him? I think he deserved to know. We have been friends for at least a week, after all. "Birdie, I need to tell you something." I took a deep breath. "My momma doesn't know about you. And she can't. Your lucky I found you when she wasn't around. She hates me. But she won hurt you. I just thought it was something you needed to know." Looking down at him, he didn't appear too mad at me. I let out a sigh of relief. "I'm glad you understand."

The next second, I heard something from behind us and at that sound, the sound of my door opening, I felt ready to die. I knew there wasn't enough time, not with both me and Birdie sitting comfortably on my bed together. There was no time to hide him.

"Mom!" I squealed in alarm at her walking into my room. I spun around towards the door, facing where she was now standing. And her face... that expression at taking the sight of Birdie in.... I could literally see the darkness in her eyes grow and her face turn to stone with hatred towards me. She took a few steps in, shutting the door behind her slowly. Her lips were tight in a scowl and she crossed her arms. She was not happy, to say the least. I could already feel my tears start to come.

She only stood there, staring daggers at me. Chin quivering with knowledge that my time with Birdie was over, I slowly glanced behind me to see the back of his head. He was oblivious of what was occurring right now, his attention still looking out the window. The silence in the room was strong, to the point where I could hear Birdie lightly purring as he looked out the window.

Looking back to mom, I heard my voice brake when I spoke. "Mom, please listen. He was hurt. He was injured and might have died if I didn't help him. He was just going to stay here until he could fly again." As I explained this to her, her expression didn't change. She slowly walked towards where I was sitting on my bed, my neck craning with every step she took. "I-I couldn't just let him die, mom."

Standing before me, blank expression, she reached behind her and pulled out something from her back pocket. My tears streamed and I felt myself start to scream in agony when I saw she pulled out her pocket knife. With her other hand right away, she slapped me across the face and forced me to stop. I cried harder.

"No! No mom!" I said and stood up, the pain within me over this driving me to do so. I started to hit her, my fists tight and fast as I cried. I knew I couldn't stop her but I had to try. I just promised Birdie a minute ago this would never happen. "He's my friend! Birdie is mine! You can't touch him!" I screeched as I continued to pound at her. It wasn't long until I felt her grasp my arm tightly and whip me in the direction behind her and out of the way. I stumbled back a little only to then feel her not hold back in a wicked punch to my face.

I screamed out in agony as I feel to the floor. My hands rose to my face and I cried, feeling the blood slowly trickle out of my nose. "Mom!" I continued to cry. "I hate you!" I cried. "I hate you so much!" Without even thinking about it I think, I felt my legs work and I stood up. It was hard to see at first as well as stand but I managed. Looking at her, her back to me, she was facing Birdie from where he was sitting on my bed. This time though, he was looking behind him at the commotion and I felt my heart break. He was still though, his deep, beady, black eyes finding me. He tilted his head, glancing to mom before he was really still again. I wanted to tell him to go, fly away but he couldn't. Looking back to my mom, I saw that she flipped the blade out now.

"Mom!" I screamed loudly, finally getting her attention when she turned around slowly, looking curiously at me as to what I had to say. She didn't look in any way disturbed, or angry. She couldn't be persuaded away from what she already had decided. But I had to try. "Please! Don't kill him! At least let me take him outside to let him go. I'm sorry and you can beat me and do anything you want to me. Just let me take him outside." I shook my head and my voice broke as I cried harder. "I don't want him to die. Please."

"Well neither do I!" She snapped, scowling at me and her eyes pointed at me with who's fault this was. "It's your own fault though. He will die because of you. I'm allergic! You are trying to kill me by bringing that thing in here. And now you will learn."

"But Birdie... It was my fault! It wasn't Birdie's fault!" I yelled.

I watched as an idea formed within her and saw a smile stretch over her lips. "You're right. It was your fault. So you should be the one to end this." She walked towards me, gripped my arms again, and dragged me back towards the bed. Standing there and facing him, I then felt her press the blade to my neck. I expect her to hurt me then. To cut or beat me. But what she said... you couldn't get any worse than that.

"You're going to kill him yourself."

I slowly looked up at her from where she was standing next to me. She couldn't be serious. I couldn't do that.... Looking up at her, I shook my head in a daze. "No... Oh no, mom, I wont," I whispered under my breath, so shocked. I knew my whole llife the things she was capable of. This shouldn't surprise me yet it did.

"You will. You started this. You will end this. Now."

I looked back to Birdie and couldn't stand the thought of this. I looked down at my bed, shaking my head slowly. "No. I can't."

"You will. Otherwise, I am willing to make arrangements to make sure you fucking burn in Hell, right next to your sister. And you will be going there today if you go against me again right now." I cried out in pain. I didn't want to die yet. But this time, that threat, I knew she wasn't kidding around this time. Looking into her cold eyes, I saw she would be willing. She has had enough of me since lately, I apparently have just continued to push her to this point, this choice.

"Can... can I at least say goodbye to Birdie?"

"No," she said coldly. "You will kill him. Right now with your bare hands."

I swallowed, looking back to Birdie. Lips and chin both quivering, I had no choice. I slowly climbed back up onto the bed, nearing him. "I'm sorry Birdie."

And with that first twist, I made myself come back to reality. I found Luke's eyes and they were in mine, seeing I was back in that memory. I hadn't even realized I was telling him all this though. His eyes in mine were filled with sadness at what I had told him, his arms now resting, unable to keep paddling as I was telling him what happened. He appeared nearly as broken as I felt.

"I can't believe you went through this kind of stuff," he said. "How did you recover after that?"

I didn't bother in correcting him that it 'never happened'. I liked that maybe he was seeing past that. "I didn't. I just deal with this shit one step at a time. After I buried Birdie, from then on, I started calling her 'Clare'. She wasn't my mother, that fucking bitch. No mother would ever do that." I said in a scowl. I felt a breeze ripple over the water and in return, run through my hair and Luke's. I couldn't help but admire him still. He was very good looking; more than that, he held understanding in his eyes of my pain. "I also started fighting back more. I was able to let go of a lot of what she did to me. I mean, it never scarred me the way that did. She wouldn't even allow me to get a new bed spread after that mess." I cringed at the memory.

His eyes were still in mine. He shook his head, slightly dazed at everything I told him. I didn't like how much he seemed to be dwelling over this; I shouldn't have told him so much. Sighing, I said, "Any other questions?"

He saw the distraction and seemed welcome to take it. Still slightly disturbed, we went on ultimately. "Yeah." He grabbed the paddles and continued to row us across the lake. It was such a beautiful day. And we were out camping. It didn't need such sad words but that's what was coming about. "Who is Emily?"

Though my ass wasn't completely numb, it appeared so at how quickly I moved. Not sure why I would jump like I did. Obviously, it caught me off guard - more than that pet question sure did. I was quick to cover myself as best as I could with a confused face. I also did my best to keep my eyes inside of my head. Damn.

But that didn't solve the staring problem. But what do you expect when the dude says something like that? I was shocked and wasn't sure where to start. How the hell did he know her? No, how the fuck did he come across that name? Oh my god, if he knew about her, he would leave Clare so fast... I just never told him because he would never believe me anyway because it was such a huge thing. Also, it was something I knew Clare was quite nervous over. I never said anything before because. I was sure she did everything in her power to cover it up. There was most likely no evidence my sister was ever born. Yet, why would it hurt now to tell him?

"How do you know that name?" I asked in such a voice, he will understand this is a serious topic.

He didn't answer right away. He was surprised I think by the tone of my voice. He finally spoke. "Y-You said her name. When you were beaten and unconscious, I was carrying you upstairs. You murmured that name."

I felt my breath rush out in a deep sigh. I gripped the side of the canoe tighter than intended, my nerves on edge. I stared down at the water for what seemed to be the longest time before I knew I should answer soon.

"You can tell me, Albany. You know you can," he said, snapping me out of my thoughts. He stopped paddling and had leaned forward, resting his hand over mine in comfort. Looking back up at him, I pursed my lips before nodding.

I never spoke about this out loud to anyway before, besides Clare. This would be interesting. Staring up into his green and caring eyes, I discovered something that I loved about him become present again. I wasn't sure of what his reaction will be. It was frustrating but though sympathy was scrawled over his face, I was completely unsure, especially if I was going to tell him the whole story. With his hand over mine, warm and comforting, I knew I would tell him.

"She was... my sister." I said, so quietly, I wasn't even sure if I had said it. Looking at him though, his expression, I know I did.