The Sins of Our Fathers

IX The Biggest Lies

Lazily my fingers traced over the words inscribed on the page, their meaning sending shivers through my body. I closed the small book delicately before tucking into the breast pocket inside of my jacket. Going back down to my knees I scooped handful after handful of the snow and dirt mixture into the ground to cover the evidence of my visit, not that anyone else would care to notice anything pertaining to Romulus Casimir. Though if they did connect me with any of this, there was no doubt in my mind I could evade punishment. As it was I was the shadow among men, ignored by all after the incident at my former school, but beyond that I had my most honed skill. Lying.
Not long ago I had detested anything of the sorts, but after awhile the lines between black and white began to blur and I found myself wandering further into the gray area. Lying wasn't a deception to me, it was merely storytelling, and I happened to be a master at both. Some say that you weave a web of lies, but I consider it weaving a story like the masters of old when they created their works of art. I was the Picasso of pretend, the Dickens of deceit, and recently the Michelangelo of murder. My father was the one who taught me the first and most important lesson I had ever learned even to this day.

"Daddy?" I'd asked on a warm summer day as my father and I had strolled down the street, with my little steps continually falling behind his larger ones.
"Yes little one?"
"How do you do that?"
We had left a small ice cream parlor only a moment ago where the Mafia boss had convinced the owner that I had heart problems and wasn't expected to last the rest of the day. He had sobbed and sobbed to the man until he'd given my father two free ice cream cones one for me and one for him. Apart of me had been appalled, but the other less angelic side that thrived in wickedness begged to learn how to lie like him. That was the first time my darker half had ever won, the first time it began to gain ground in my heart as I rotted from the inside out.
My father smiled down at me, a hint of pride encasing a small sliver of hope in his flawless smile. "Do you really want to learn anything that might make you like me?"
I could hear faint whispers of pain in the words as he recalled the words I had spoken when he told me who he was only a month earlier. I had cried and locked myself in my room and hadn't spoken to him until today.
In all honesty I still didn't want to be near him, but when he'd begged me to at least explain I had reluctantly given him the chance. My mother had taught me to uphold my morals and values, she told me that stealing was wrong, lies were from the mouth of the devil, and murder was unforgivable. Then she died and left me with my father.
Staring in the eyes of the man before me I could see a small shred of good, but it was ever fading and twisted almost beyond recognition. But I saw it and I knew why the minuscule glimmer of light- of hope- was there. I was what my father clung to; the last remaining piece of my mother, Reena Casimir. Calmly I meet his eyes, keeping my voice steady as I betrayed what my angel of a mother had hammered into me for years.
"Yes."
My father's face remained blank; his expression unchanging, but his eyes lit up like a Christmas tree.
"Lovely," He cooed, "The first thing you need to know about lying is that in order for others to believe the lie, a part of you -no matter how small or dark- has to believe it too."
I nodded listening as he went on telling me about the signs of lying and how to avoid the telltale sweaty palms, a twitching eye or mouth, or rapid blinking. When he finished looked up at him and straight into his eyes daring him to look away as I put my knowledge to the test asking the question that had burned in my mind for as long as I could remember.
"Daddy, do you love me?"
My father was a master liar, but even he couldn't control his eyes that betrayed his every thought.
That was the day I learned that the biggest lies we tell our the lies we tell to ourselves.

Shaking off the memory that had haunted me for years I took one last look at the forlorn graves the belonged to my parents and turned away, shivering as I trekked through the snow. Frostbite licked my fingers slightly as I pushed them into my jacket for warmth. Lost in my own thoughts the world around me seemed to fade a little and blend into another one made up of my past.
Roaming through these old remembrances I kept my head down as I followed the trail of my earlier footprints leaving me unaware of my surroundings.
I almost didn't notice the boy until I was right on top of him. He stood leaning against the metal fence that surrounded the graveyard, his dark clothes much too light for the freezing night, but he seemed to be a part of the night if not king of it. Raven hair that matched the black of his leather jacket fell to one side of his face giving a stark contrast to his white skin. Even the man's skin spoke of his darkness, swirls of dark ink were scattered over his body making him more gorgeous than many a male model. Bright blue eyes starred into my green ones as his face broke into a slow, dangerous grin.
"I was beginning to think that you weren't coming out."
His voice was deep and raspy as he pushed out each word with deliberate care and edge. I didn't say a word, I simply stood there calmly staring at him as he starred at me. He shifted his weight away from the metal fence so that he was closer to me. His breath fanned my face as he spoke each word sending sparks of fear down my spine.
"It's certainly a pleasure to meet the last Casimir."
"I'm not a Casimir." I replied coolly never hesitating.
"Of course you are. It's rather hard to forget a face that once belonged to someone so beautiful, so innocent and pure, but that's all changed hasn't it?"
I kept my lips sealed as I stood there debating whether or not to turn and run away from this gorgeous, yet threatening man.
"You used to be so much more talkative, after all how could I forget your screams when my father told his men to kill yours?"
"Your father?" I asked forcing my voice not to crack despite the burning pain in my chest. He smiled.
"Yes, the one who gave the order to kill your father so he could take his place; the new head of the Russian Mafia."

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