Secrets and Lies

39| 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚝'𝚜 𝚘𝚞𝚝

When it comes to love, or anything in fact, there is always a ticking clock.

Forrest had left to go downstairs but I stayed.

Stayed to collect my thoughts and catch a breath.

Whatever had just happened had left me breathless, utterly bewildered. I had not expected that and somehow, it had changed my life. I felt so different.

I walked to the mirror and caught my reflection. Everything about me looked the same apart from my flushed cheeks and my swollen lips but I felt changed. I hadn't known losing my virginity to Forrest would make me feel so uplifted.

But as I thought about it, I realised. It wasn't the act of losing my virginity that had such an effect on me but sleeping with the boy I loved and the effects of his pleasure on mine that changed me.

I loved him so much.

...and yet that was the last time it would ever be like that, the last time I could admit to him, show to him and admit to myself that I loved him. After all, it was like he said. It was just pretending and the sooner I woke up from my fantasies, the easier I would heal.

It was almost twelve and so with a deep breath, I turned my gaze from the mirror and walked down the stairs.

Each step down was like a thud to my heart, the numbness and sadness, making my heart that seconds ago felt full to the brim, wilt like a dying flower in my chest. I had to see Forrest and see in his eyes that memory of a magical moment that had changed my life and shown me what I could've had if circumstances were different only to be reminded that I could never have that.

I took a deep breath in.

I was good at pretending and I'd just have to do it a little while longer.

I took my last step into the living room, turning the corner whilst masking my face to one of indifference, eventually seeing everyone in the room.

My sisters were there, scattered across the room, all pictures of beauty with their coloured dresses, brightly filling this gloomy space. My parents were standing by the cake, an enormous masterpiece with the haunting letter mocking me from their podium, laughing at my poor 18 years of my life and the sad years to come. My mother was standing with her hand clutched in my father's, both beautiful, pristine and elegant, nothing like their tainted daughter.

And surprisingly my boys were here and yet as soon as the thought came to my mind, I had to remind myself that they were no longer mine.

Forrest was there in the background, hiding with the shadows and my eyes caught his first, unable to have my focus anywhere else. I hadn't noticed earlier, too rapt with the energy emanating from him but he had a nice suit on, black contrasting magnificently with vibrant green eyes and matching his dark hair. He looked older, more sophisticated but always just him, just Forrest.

Holden and Rex were here.

Holden, my best friend, was across the room, furthest from me and boy did I feel that distance. He looked every bit the black brother with his dark grey suit. He looked like an anime character, there to save the love of his life. Except I was no longer someone he held any love towards and I could see it in his tense shoulders and the way he wouldn't hold my eye.

Rex was here but he wasn't looking at me either. He had a crumpled suit and an awkward tick to his shoulders. I ought to have felt bad, guilty but since sleeping with Forrest and feeling so much, it was like I was a candle and the energy gone in an instant, blown out to leave me in the numbing darkness.

As I turned my gaze to look at the last member of this party, I was shocked to see Ivan. It was obvious my parents had planned this party but was confused as to why they invited him. We had never been friends, never were the picture of friends so I didn't understand where they had gotten this idea from.

Bury when I catalogued his clothes, rumpled and out of place compared to everyone else and when I saw my parent's face, I knew he hadn't been invited.

That he had party crashed.

And crashed this whole party down with his words but ultimately my secrets and lies.

The clock struck midnight, the eery old grandfather clock we had in the living room passed down from generations screaming out loud in the silent room. Its music echoed in the room and somehow managed to emphasise the darkness that seeped from the outside into here, sucking out all the light and joy, or at least what was left of it anyway.

When the clock's mouth had closed and the room was silent apart from the continuous ticks, my mother took a step forward, her face distraught, shocked and above all, disgusted.

She stared at me like I never thought a mother would look at her child.

Like I was a stranger to her.

Like I was never her daughter.

Like I was a monster.

"What have you done?" She gasped, clutching her hand to her chest in shock.

I didn't speak just looked at the boy that had caused all of this pain on the day I mattered the most.

"You took too long; I haven't forgotten what you owe us and you'll tell me your secrets and lies just as you will to your poor mother and siblings," he snarled.

And as I stated at everyone who held no pity for me, just various levels of disbelief and disgust, I realised he was right and that after all, my birthday wasn't the day I mattered the most. I simply didn't matter at all.

I had enough.

"We knew you were hiding something," Amelie said. I hadn't heard my closest sister speak in so long and was almost chilled to the bone at the level of malice coming from inside her, "and now we know exactly who you are."

I stared at her.

She looked exactly like me and despite the outward appearance, we were the same inside too. Our hearts were both decayed and lacked humanity. She just chose to hide it better than me, to con everyone into thinking she was perfect, just like all the Amherst's.

And instead of the numb feeling that had filtered through my body like a painkiller, leaving me indifferent to everything, her words were a catalyst inside of me, sparking the flame.

And I had remembered in that exact moment, under the eyes of everyone who had once meant something to me in the room, how I had described myself as a bomb.

The catalyst being my sister and her cruel, hypocritical words, the people in the room that held nothing but hatred for me, the fact that my plan to do some good before the bad had unveiled and the clock that had struck had set me off.

I had no one and nothing. So what did I have to lose? I'd get everything off my chest and bathe in the freedom of it all, of telling the boys the truth no matter how much it hurt, of letting my parents know to not trust me anymore, to hope someone could stop the murders and most of all, for my sisters to pay their price for my years of agony and their part to play it in all.

Frankly, I'd had enough.

I had wanted time and I had gotten it but unfortunately, the time was up. The clock's numbers had decreased slowly but so quickly until it was down to the last couple of seconds and to me, it was more symbolic of a bomb with its timer, counting down until the horrid time.

The time I exploded.

The years of secrets weaved like a web of lies on my soul, it was time to undo the horrid pattern.

And fend as the spider with nothing left to live for as its years of hard work collapsed into nothing.

✽