Bleak Hill

CH VII "Blood is thicker than water"

"And this, is where the plot thickens. Now, you did say that you had no contact with your aunt for the last month. Is that correct?"

My heartbeat was unnaturally fast. I peeked at Gregory. No smirk on his face this time. He was solemn. Not sarcastic. Not cocky. Solemn. He was waiting for an answer. I was sure he remembered what I told him. No contact with Elle for a month. I was too busy with work. That was actually true. I was taking double shifts last month, leaving the single ones only on weekends; the remaining time I spent with the guys. But I was gathering money for a new car. Mine used to belong to my father. It's not that I hated the car, I just hated that it reminded me of him. That car is a bit like Gregory. It's not that I hate them, they are more like a vessel of what I hate. It's the memories they bring.

Gregory's impatience got in the way of my response. Not that there would be any, but just saying. Bringing up Gregory's faults was one of my favorite hobbies. Stinks of cheese, check. Impatient, check. Arrogant, check. Revengeful, check. Thick in the head, check.

"I know you did say it, Daniel."

Stupid fucking pauses. What does he do, bathe in cheese water? I started tapping my thumb on the table, just to avoid looking at him.

" You are her only living family member, and I feel it is my duty to inform you that we found traces of her blood."

I dug my nails into my fists and try to push away all the images that came. I felt dizzy and weak and angry. I wanted to leave. But I knew the interrogation was far from over. Gregory, the bearer of bad news. I felt like he enjoys destroying my life.

I was nine years old when it happened. My parents got a divorce a year before, and I remember I felt relief when my dad was moving out. You see, my father was a police officer. Apparently they were a great team with Gregory. He was not a bad person, just a shitty father and husband. I tried asking my mum how they ended up together, but her face turned to stone and the matter was dropped.

 My father was demanding. He was just coming after work, telling me to be better at school and at sports, have more friends, be better, do better. Never was he satisfied. He never showed me or my mum any kind of support. And kids usually crave some sort of support. Especially from a father. And I used to try very hard to be the best person I could be. Standing up for what's right, being liked but respected, and most of all being responsible.

 I started being more lenient on myself when my father left town. I was no longer the Chief's son, people did not expect me to excel at everything, since my father did not either. He failed at his marriage, so I was granted an opportunity to fail at something too. I was his byproduct in the society.

 My mother was very kind, not too open emotionally, but she was there when I needed her. After my father moved away, my mum started working in a hardware store. I did not see much of her then. After school I sometimes went to Rafael's place where his dad would give us chips, because "Oh, Mary's probably shopping, so no dinner but here, take these, you'll love them." And we played videogames while eating chips. His dad would sometimes come to check up on us, or make some kind of bad joke, then went back to his drink. I used to go back home an hour before my mum finished her work, so that she didn't know I was out so late. Things were working out.

 I knew my mum was tired with working so much, but she seemed happier. Maybe I projected my feeling unto her, but I think I remember her smile more. Rafael and I spent much more time together, and ever since the divorce I was more inclined to pranks. We had more time, more will, his brains and my bravery, and we were good. Things were good.

 That was until May 30th of 1979. Such an ordinary day for most. I was in school, we had math, I remember it clearly because while it was my worst subject, Rafael loved it, so I was stuck by myself, usually staring at the window, waiting for the bell. But it was not the wishful sound of the bell that was heard. It was an explosion in the hardware store. When I ran towards the store, Gregory was telling everyone to back off, "This is a crime scene, go home!" Most of the people scattered stressfully, except the nosy ones, they hang out in the back to see what happened. I stood there paralyzed and when Gregory saw me, he gave me a pitiful look, and that was when I knew. His cheesy smell was all I wanted to concentrate on, but I couldn't and I started screaming.

My father stayed with me for a couple weeks, but I don't remember much of him. I was very scared, because death had not crossed my young mind when she died. I sometimes forgot she wasn't there. It was in a way surreal. In the morning, when I went to the living room, I expected her to be there, watching TV, or reading a newspaper, but every time I found out my father had took her place. I remember him faintly from these days. The only memory that stuck was my dad telling me that we were moving to Ridgeport where he lived, so I started screaming and saying I will never live with him. A week after, when he packed his bags, he told me that my aunt Elle was coming to stay and take care of me, but if I ever changed my mind I could always go stay with him. 

Elle was 29 when her sister died. Before my mother's death I didn't have much contact with her. She had finished college a couple years before, then spent the rest of them travelling around the world. It was around two years since she had moved back to my grandparents house. She came for my granpa's funeral in 1976, and she never left. She always looked sad and quiet to me. Elle would occasionally come to our house, sit with my mother on the balcony, and the minute my dad came back, she disappeared. 

 The first months we moved together, we didn't speak much with each other, or with anybody to be honest. Rafael tried talking to me when I went back to school, but I shrugged him off. Gradually it became easier to talk with Elle, because she was very sad, and it was my instinct to protect people who are sad. She grew on me very fast and she started taking proper care of me. Some nights we slept on the same bed, sometimes it was because of her nightmares, sometimes because of mine. And I grew up with her constant yelling at my pranks, unless the pranks were funny, then she would high-five me. She never married, but she worked in a fancy firm. I only moved out when Rafael came to town. 

"Where?" My voice was hoarse, like my vocal chords hadn't been used for months.

"Excuse me?"

"Where did you find her blood? Was it only blood? Did you find a body?" 

"Look kiddo, I will keep you informed about our findings, but you have to cooperate, do you understand?"

Gregory had an unreadable expression on his face, like he was angry at something, but that something wasn't me. I did not respond to him, since I knew he would not get any cooperation from me.

"Daniel!" 

I continued to blankly stare at the empty wall behind him.

"Daniel, we found traces of your blood as well."