Darkness Falls

Chapter ten

"Jake, are you up yet, sweetheart? I need you to take the girls to school." Mamá's voice floated up the stairs and I blinked awake. 

"Be down soon." I called. 

After a quick shower, I brushed my teeth quickly and got dressed. I paused in the mirror studying the number of scars that patterned my torso. They criss-crossed over my body and one particularly deep, nasty one shone red just below my chest. I couldn't help but count them.

Numbers.

I hate them. I hate all maths. Always have done. The numbers go up and up and up and never ever seem to have an end. 

Thirteen. 

I hate that number the most. It's uneven. It's unlucky. So they say. If I had my way, I would erase that number from existence. 

And it's not because it's uneven. It's not even because it's unlucky. I'm not superstitious. 

I want to erase that number because it's the number of pieces of my soul that I've destroyed. 

Thirteen. The number of people I've killed. 

And I'm beginning to wonder if that's not enough. 

~*~ 

I dropped the girls off at school, having to chide Savannah to go inside, before going to work. 

Yes. I have a normal job. Shocker. Papá told me to get one. Said it would come in useful one day. 

"Jake, I need you to go to the copy machine and get fifty copies of these, please." Wendy told me, handing me a couple of sheets of paper. 

I wordlessly went to the copier and started to copy the sheets as I thought of how empty I felt inside. There was a hole where my heart used to be and for the life of me, I couldn't work out how to fill it. I had this idea that it was just going to get bigger and bigger until eventually the blackness filled my soul and I became nothing more than a killing machine. 

That's why I have to remember the people I kill. The people Papá kills. I can't let myself forget them, no matter how painful the memories may be. But for some reason, every person who I've ever lost becomes nothing more than a number. And I forget. 

And I wish more than anything that I didn't forget. 

I flicked through the copies, fifty. Perfect. 

After leaving the copies with Wendy, I was told to make some coffee and organise some files. This place was my sanctuary. It was the one place I felt safe. The one place in the world that Papá had no control over. 

"Hi Jake." A familiar voice made me turn around with a sigh. 

"Hi, Will." I said, "What are you doing here?" 

"I need something. Can we talk?" 

"No." 

"It's not about your dad." He added. 

"You've got one minute." I said. 

He gestured to the back room, which would be quieter. 

"Are you ever planning to leave?" He asked in a whisper, the minute the door was closed. 

"Huh? I only started here three months ago." 

"Not here, silly." He said, rolling his eyes. "The other...business." 

"You said it wasn't about Papá." I said, with a frown. 

"It isn't. Not directly." 

"Everything about that is about him." I said. "I would even be there if it weren't for him."