Fear Itself

Later that evening, it was time for me to go. Granted, had I known that things would have played out the way they did, I could have planned to stay longer. I didn’t want to go, don’t think Dean necessarily wanted me to either. I understood. After all, who wanted to be left alone in a big empty house all by themselves? I knew exactly how that felt. Even having Winston wasn’t going to change that; Ralph hadn’t changed my situation either. Nevertheless, when I spotted Avery standing close by outside from one of the windows, I kissed Dean goodbye, and he said he would come see me soon.

With my backpack strapped on and Ralph nestled in my arms, I left the house and approached Avery. “Okay, Mumbles, ready,” I told him, giggling, grinning, still radiating from the last few days.

Avery was leaned up against a tree, toothpick settled between his teeth. He puffed out a breath and furrowed his eyebrows as he looked me over. “Why’re you smilin’ like that?” he asked me.

“I’m not smiling like anything,” I replied, still grinning, unable to wipe the giddy look off face. “Maybe I just like to smile, Mumbles. Is smiling a crime?”

He might have rolled his eyes. Maybe I imagined that. Sometimes, I thought that Avery was so expressionless that I just made things up in my mind to make myself feel better about our weird friendship. “C’mon,” he mumbled, nodding off ahead of us in what I assumed was our desired direction. He didn’t wait very long (never did) before he started off, and I just followed after him. As per usual, my eyes glanced around, taking in the area, taking in everything I saw. A nearby mailbox caused me to stop.

It was nothing strange, just a simple black mailbox, but the letters were peeling off. Naturally, I had stopped to press the stickers back against the metal. Avery hadn’t stopped walking. He was just a few paces away. This was normal: I would get distracted for a moment and just rush back to him as soon as I realized I had stopped. Usually. A car engined sputtered nearby, then stopped. I heard a door open, then close.

“Thalia,” a voice called out to me, not too loud, but just loud enough for to hear it and draw my eyes upward as a man’s figure emerged from the shadows and walked into the soft glow of a nearby street light. “I believe you owe me an explanation,” my father chided.

“Dad,” I sputtered out in a tiny voice. Ralph hissed in my arms, then leapt out and ran back to Avery. “D-dad, why are you—“

“I’m coming back from work, Thalia,” he explained as he took a step forward. “And I thought I saw you. I’ve missed you so much, Pumpkin,” he told me with a sad smile, stepping closer to me. My breath was catching in my throat, my eyes darting wildly. I didn’t want to be anywhere near him, but I had locked up on the spot. “How could I have kept driving and ignore my own child like that?” he laughed, wiping a few stray hairs off of my forehead. When he realized I wasn’t answering him, he kept going. “It’s time to come home, Tali.” I dropped my head. “I know it can’t be easy living out here,” he continued, practically cooing at me in his most soothing voice. “Come home with me, and we can forget all about this.”

“Dad, I can’t—“ I choked out, eyes watering, voice cracking in my throat, leaving my words shrill and squeaky.

“Why, of course, you can,” my father chuckled. He combed his fingers through my hair on both sides of my head, brushing the hair clear off of my neck, and I knew from the look on his face that he had spotted the reddish-purple splotch set just off-center on the right side. “Thalia,” he began slowly, accusingly. “What is that?”

When I didn’t answer again, his hand grasped my jaw and forced my head to look him in the eye. “Who gave that to you?” Out of instinct, I looked away. Unfortunately, my eyes fell back upon Dean’s front door, and my father’s head slowly turned to match the trail. “Cassidy?” he muttered, then turned his head back to me. “Dean Cassidy?” he laughed incredulously. “You’re involved… with Dean Cassidy,” he laughed again, but it wasn’t the kind of laugh when he thought something was funny. “Really?” he asked coldly, releasing my chin from his grip. “You think that Dean Cassidy would actually be attracted to you?” He laughed again, louder this time. “I just don’t see how you would think he’s impressed.”

“He… he is,” I snapped back, though it didn’t really qualify as a snap. It was meek, quiet, and timid. I shrunk back, trying to ignore what my father was saying to me, but the water was hanging on my lower eyelids, ready to spill at any moment.

“Thalia, sweetie,” my father laughed again. “Don’t be daft. He is a grown man, and you are nothing but a child who is painfully unknowing and unaware, needy, often times perhaps a little bit whiny, and overall, awkward and clumsy,” he told me. “It’s in your best interest to forget all about him and just come home, Tali.”

“Father, he does like me,” I cried. Tears were falling now; I couldn’t contain them any longer. “He does. I know he does.”

“Honey,” my father sighed, lifting a hand and brushing it over my cheek. “He’s just using you. It’s not what you think. Pumpkin, he only keeps you around for one thing, and as far as he’s concerned, that’s all you’re good for.” I sputtered out another sob. “Are you going to come with with me, or—“

“No!” I shouted, fists clenched at my sides, tears pouring down my face when I finally looked at him. My father’s face immediately fell into one of disdain and discontent.

“How long have you known Mr. Cassidy, Thalia?” my father asked, tilting his chin higher, giving the air of authority he usually did. I just watched him, couldn’t bring myself to answer because my heart was pounding, and there was actual pain searing in my chest. “I work with Dean,” he told me. “I know him better than you could ever hope to.” He paused, sighing faintly, looking at me with disappointment. “He is not what you think, Thalia.”

“No,” I repeated, shaking my head slowly, lips curved downward because my face refused to do anything else.

“He is a ruthless warmonger, a monster, a killer, Thalia,” my father continued. “He’s killed men with his bare hands.”

“You’re lying,” I sobbed, clenching my eyes shut, wrapping my arms around my stomach because suddenly, I felt sick.

My father’s laughter echoed around me. Where was Avery? I wanted nothing more than for Avery to grab me and take me away from him because I couldn’t find it within me to move. “I’m lying?” he laughed. “Tali, he’s League militia. What do you think they taught him?”

“I don’t know,” I replied quietly.

“That’s right,” my father snapped. “You don’t know. I’m tired of this attitude, Thalia. This rebellious and unruly behavior has got to stop.” He grabbed me by the shoulders and nearly tugged me, but a grip on my backpack held me back and balanced.

“I think it’s time you took your hands off’er, don’t you?” Avery grumbled from just behind me. Ralph sat at my feet, waiting patiently. There was silence. My father’s eyes met Avery in a narrowed stare. “Gotta ask,” Avery mumbled. “How’d it feel bein’ caged up like a goddamn animal, Giroux? All you hoped it would be?”

My father glared, scoffed. “Clearly, you don’t know your place—“ Before my father could even finished his sentence, Avery’s fist smashed dead center into my father’s face. Unaccustomed to the force, he fell straight over onto the ground, howling in pain. Blood covered his face, and all I could do was stare as Avery rammed the toe of his boot into my dad’s side.

“And rich people don’t know when to shut up,” Avery scowled. Before I could even scramble down to help my father, Avery grabbed me by the arm. “Time to go, Princess,” he told me, so I grabbed my cat, and Avery tugged me back onto our path; I couldn’t help but look over my shoulder to see my father stagger to his feet and hobble back over to his car, huffing and puffing the whole way. Suddenly, it came back: the hurt, the ache, the sadness swelling in the pit of my stomach. I sputtered a bit, trying to hold it back, but it all came pouring out in loud sobs. Tears took my vision away, but Avery wrapped his arms around my shoulders and pulled me close to him as we kept walking. “It’s gonna be fine, Princess,” he mumbled softly, trying to be soothing.

But it wasn’t going to be okay. Even though Avery usually could calm me down, I felt inconsolable. Despite my best efforts, my father’s words had crawled into the deepest recesses of my brain, and I felt myself shaking, felt like I didn’t want to walk, almost didn’t even want to be awake anymore. I felt empty. I felt used. Like an old toy tossed in the garbage. Maybe even like a piece of garbage itself.