The Real Ram

Chapter 42

 I walk into my room and immediately notice the difference. The air pressure is different, unsettling. Someone's been here.

I look around and see that some things are misplaced. I notice my sight cube is absent from its place on my nightstand. I walk over and try to find it on the floor thinking it might have fallen, but it's not there.

"It's funny, I remember when Jen first showed this little contraption to me. She seemed amazed by it, but I never knew why. I'm sure you understand why though, right Zoey?" I expect tears to start falling from my eyes, but all I can do is freeze once he starts speaking. The flashbacks have already started. I'm shaking, but frozen in place. "You aren't going to ignore me, are you? I sure hope not," I hear him stand up and walk to the door, "You gave me a fright, Zoey. I came home and you weren't there. I though someone had kidnapped you," he locks the door. I close my eyes, accepting my fate. "Still ignoring me?"

I manage to shake my head.

He walks back to where he was and sets the sight cube down on my bed. "She tried to explain the cube to me, I never truly understood it though," he laughs, "I don't think she fully did either to be honest." He pauses before saying, "You still don't know want to talk to me? After so rudely running away from the safety I gave you?"

"Safety?" I hear my voice as if I'm a third party watching the scene from afar and can't intervene. "The only safety you ever showed me was when Mr. Balm called CPS on you and you pretended to be concerned with the black eye I had."

"I never liked that neighbor."

"I never like you," I say, wishing I hadn't.

"Oh come on Zoey, we were friends."

"You only cared about making my mother happy."

"Because I care about your mother. You have no idea what I would do for her. The sacrifices I make to ensure your safety for her."

"She deserved someone better than you."

"She does. And she had that, then he knocked her up and left so I stepped in to help her raise two freak children."

I clench my fists, "Don't talk about my father like that. He had a reason to leave."

"Then what was it?" John asks. I sense his usual body language. He's tense and annoyed, "Do you know?"

I take in a breath, "He didn't say. But I know, even in his absence, he was more of a father than you'll ever be."

Emotions change in him, and he almost feels...hurt. It unsettles me, and I feel something changing inside me.

"Zoey, turn around."

"No."

"Zoey," he doesn't sound angry or bitter or sad or happy or urgent. I can't read any emotion off of John. All I know is I can't look at him. I can't look at my past. I hear him coming closer, my nerves rise with ever step I hear. He says again, "Zoey."

I feel his hand brush my arm, and I explode. I shout, "Get away!" Pushing my hands out, flinching at his sudden movements. I guess my eyes were shut, because I didn't see it. Suddenly John is on the other side of the room, in the closet. 

He had been thrown so far and hard that the door broke. He starts to move, but that's not what I'm focused on. All I notice is that my hands are glowing. Not like a light, but like an emotion, coming from my hands like mist. Orange mist.

As if I'm not already freaking out already, my nerves rise again when I notice John is regaining his coherence. "Don't come near me." I hold out my hands, hoping whatever I did will work again.