If Only I Knew How to Hate You

Bailey

Close my eyes. Nothing. Almost a moment of peace in this well… I shouldn’t… but it is- hell. Then everything is silent and my heart hammers. Open my eyes. A blank skull grinning at me. Real bone, scraped free of blood and flesh. I flinch, turning away, closing my eyes again to nothing.

My uncle chuckles, pressing the hard object to my cheek. Try as I might, my eyes are filling with terrified, revolted tears. “What?” He pouts. “Do you want it to cool down? It might take a while, you know. Getting the skull out takes forever and it takes up a lot of hot water. But you would remember, wouldn’t you?”

Hanging my head, I’ve found its best not to answer. “Here. My gift to you. Now, you can’t say I never gave you anything,” he snickers, and I hear him walking around.

My eyes open and I warily glance around. My hands are still shaking, and my bloody paper towel has fallen to the ground. Who’s blood do I have on my hand? I wonder this every time but I can’t stand to try and answer, it hurts so much inside.

Drake eyes me sitting on the table with a smirk. “What? Ashamed? Embarrassed? Or secretly pleased?”

“You wish,” I spit, snatching the duct tape off that he snarls at. “I hate you!”

“Too bad we couldn’t have a better reunion,” he shrugs. “Maybe you should have visited me in prison. That could have been cozy,” he grins.

“I wish you’d gotten the death penalty!”

“So do a lot of others, actually. But hey, you can’t always get what you want, eh, Elizabeth?”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Why? It’s your name.”

“No it’s not.”

“Huh. Legally changed? Nah, more so- don’t tell me! The witness protection program, huh?” He snickers. “Leaning on the government for advice? How wise.”

“Better than what you did for a living,” I mutter.

“Hmph, so you say. I’m not the one paying taxes,” he points out.

“Better than being a murderer!” I cry.

“Hmmm… you could have a point in that… but I don’t really see it.”

“You’re sick.”

“That’s what they tell me.”

“Mental.”

“That too.”

“The devil.”

“Oooh, I remember you calling me that,” he smiles slyly. “My favorite nickname, hon.” He walks forward, placing a hand high on my leg. “Missed me?”

“Like a child misses a sunburn.”

“Eh, love is pain, darling.”

“You wouldn’t know love if it smacked you in the gut.”

“And you would?” He shoots it back and I fall silent, sullen. He notices, chuckling as he bites his apple. I feel a piece fall on my face but I don’t touch it. “Well, we all like to fool ourselves. Me? I like to fool myself that I’m rich.”

I don’t say anything. “What, don’t you wish for anything? Anything at all?” He prods me by rubbing my arm.

I smack his arm away, giving him a cold glare. “I wish you were dead.”

“Eh.”

“It’ll happen.”

“Psh.”

“You’ll be caught. Sentenced. Maybe even the death penalty this time.”

“Oh, I know. You tried so hard for it last time,” he sighs. “Such a shame. After all you did for those people, they wouldn’t do the one thing, the very one thing you were dying for,” he gives me a mocking face. “Like I said, you can’t always get what you want.”

“Neither can you,” I shoot back, but it’s lame and we both know it.

He just laughs. “Oh, you have no idea.” His eyes fall on me, scrutinizing my whole being in a way that makes me sick to my stomach. He hasn’t changed one bit. “You really have no idea…”