𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐠𝐞 𝐎𝐟 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐞

𝟑𝟓. 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐒𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐬

The letter fell almost immediately from my trembling hands and the only thing that echoed in the house was my sobbing. After a while my dad woke up and came downstairs. He found me sitting on the kitchen's chair, crying over Victoria's letter.

"Alice? What happened darling?" he asked me neurotically as he rubbed his forehead with his right hand.

"Dad, it's Victoria," my eyes dripped with tears. My walls, the walls that held me up, made me strong had just collapsed. "We need to talk dad"

We need to talk, that's what I said to him. A simple sentence that could do so much damage. Does the truth imprison us, or does it set us free? One thing I knew for sure, the truth could surely hurt.

I told him everything about the killings, about Victoria, about her dreams, everything. Dad's face fell faster than a corpse in cement boots. In that instant his skin became greyed, his mouth hung with lips slightly parted and his eyes were as wide as they could stretch.

I never expected my words to hurt him so much, it feels like a thousand knives just pierced through his heart. I could feel the hot tears already welling up in my eyes. I looked at him and I could tell he had heard every word I had said, but we both knew my words were the truth. Even if we wanted to deny them and fight about them, in the end they were still true.

Victoria left yesterday and we didn't even know what happened. The only thing that we could do was pick-up the phone and call, but we were afraid. What if she didn't answer? What if she answered?

I watched as the whites in his eyes turned a pure black, and as his iris glowered teal. His lethal stare felt painful and piercing, as if his glare was tearing my heart apart with a blinding teal light. He suddenly threw the vase off the table and smashed it against the wall.

"Why am I learning about this now?" he asked me angrily as his eyes were throwing fire on me.

"Dad, you were not in any position to help us or do anything at all, you remember how you were. You were crushed after mum's death," I answered reluctantly.

Dad just turned his back on me as he was whispering some things, probably swearing. I slowly got up and grabbed my phone and started dialing Victoria's number, it was ringing and ringing.

"Yes?" a man answered. His voice was like the magma chamber of a volcano, deep, but filled entirely with the molten rock.

"Who is this?" I asked almost immediately. "Where is my sister?" I asked with a demanding tone.

"Miss you should come in Snowshill as soon as possible. We can't talk over the phone," his voice echoed through my mind.

"We will come."

I closed the phone as a feeling of sadness overwhelmed me. I collapsed onto the kitchen's chair. The sadness drained through me rather than skating over my skin. It travelled through every cell to reach the ground. I filtered it yet strangely enough, I kept what was pure and it was the dirt that left.

"Who was it?" my dad asked me angrily.

"I don't know, it was a man and he said that we must go to Snowshill immediately."

"Damn it Alice, why didn't you tell me earlier what was going on?" he yelled at me while bringing his face closer to mine.

There was something in that shout, a pain behind it. I watched. I watched his eyes. Then I knew. The anger was nothing but a shield for pain, like a cornered soldier randomly throwing out grenades, scared for his life, lonely, desperate.

Dad was pacing up and down in the kitchen muttering to himself as he was hitting every once and then the wall to his left. Every time harder, with more force. He breathed in real slow. What if nothing blew up? What if there were no consequences? Wouldn't dad have to calm down? Wouldn't the shield clatter to the ground and let the pain tumble out?

Maybe Victoria was fine and she had caught James. Yes, that was it. She had caught James and the police was questioning her. That was it. I knew it. I knew it. I...knew.

"You were never responsible Alice, never. All those years you never cared about us. You were living away, building your perfect life, while we were here suffering."

If the shouts were visible they'd be reaching over the air, strangling the life from me. As the words got more bitter it would be possible to see why I gasped for breath.

"Why...you didn't have to come back here Alice. Victoria was just fine without you, here, safe with me but of course you showed up." he yelled and yelled while hitting the wall with his fists. Every breath felt like his last, every breath made him ache for it to be the last.

His cry's of help went unnoticed, contained by the walls of his body. He did this to himself, he was the one who danced with the devil bidding on his heart. He was the one mopping around and never caring for anyone. We were his family and yet he was acting as if we were trash.

It was all his fault, what was he thinking playing with fire? Didn't he know he was going to burn? Didn't he know gasoline run in his veins? All he needed was a flame, a touch of fire and he would light up like a Christmas tree. Now, look at him, nothing but ashes on the ground, dirt.

Always blaming the others rather than himself.

"You know what dad, I am tired of you. That's why I left, I went away to finally be happy for once after mum's death and as for Victoria, she wasn't happy with you. She was miserable," I yelled back at him with even more force.

When things calmed down, when everything was nice, that was when he would find fault in someone or something. He was an emotional volcano, convinced it was the fault of others. I quickly turned and started walking away from him.

"I am going to pack my things for Snowshill, you better do the same dad."

That was the last thing I said. I felt like I was drowning and there was no hope of being saved. The blackness of my memories started to spread through my mind, clouding my thoughts and taking me back to places I never wanted to revisit. I quickly pressed my palms to my ears trying to block out the screams, but it didn't work. They only grew louder and louder.

Victoria was fine. Victoria was fine, please.

I turned my head up, whispering. Lord, help us. If I bow my head and fold my hands, then will you hear my prayer? It was one of those times that I reached to god for help. It was one of those rare times that I really wanted to believe that someone was going to save us but I had no one to really believe in.