we were snitches (old version)

jolie

Weddings are odd, white things, not a smear of blood on them. Mom, I'm sorry. She isn't here, but I'm searching frantically anyway. The small room traps me in the claws of premonition, warnings scratch at my heart.
"Ready, baby?" Todd grabs my hand, gently tracing my arm-length gloves. The bruises wince and hide under the pure cloth, dirty secrets concealed in white.
"I'm sorry about last night, Olie. I don't know what got into me." Is he really sorry? His voice is pure emotion, fragments of sadness lining it.
"Of course I'm ready. It's okay, I know you didn't mean to, did you?" I grimace, then remember the sweet bits of him. Everyone loses their tempers once in awhile, and Todd is perfect. He's so gentle with the twins, the way he holds them makes me want to be near him forever.
"I won't ever do it again."
"Promise?"
"I swear." My dress swirls around my ankles, swish goes the lace and burn go the scars, two forces battling against each other.
"You're so beautiful," he murmurs, and it's moments like this that make me stay, bits of pretty words that are music notes humming in between fists.

                * * *
Lia skips home ahead of us, a little ring of innocence protecting her from our adult talk. I wish I could be a child again, free from desperation and the haunting pieces of forgotten memories.
"I love you." I whisper to Todd, but he doesn't answer. Those huge shoes of his clomp along the street, heavy thoughts fill him. They're the ugliest pair of blue shoes I've ever seen, giant and cluttering up the delicate house. A house weaved with women and dead girls' souls.
"We need to talk." The statement is weighed with dread, it's a sentence that could change my life.
"Is this about the house being such a mess? I'll clean it up as soon as we get home." My voice is quivering, a thin string of words hoping Todd isn't holding the scissors that could cut us apart.
"No," he pauses, staring at Lia's glittering hair, "I did something."
"Did what?"
"While you were...sick." The laughter erupting out of my body isn't mine, Anxiety controls my emotions and numbs my brain to obey.
"This isn't funny, Jolie. I'm trying to be honest here, and you aren't letting me talk!" His hand is a rock of anger colliding with me, bringing me back down beneath him.
             This will be the third time I've run away.