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Tuesday, August 20th
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I surprised myself when I finished the entire school day and didn't skip the last few classes like I had done yesterday. I was well on my way home when I saw a car I didn't expect to see in the driveway. Not only were both my parents home, but so was the person that made us move in the first place.
My only options were to wait it out at some fast food place or the mall, but those were far from the neighborhood and further down the hills. My only option was to stay at Evangeline's house for the meantime. I knew she was already home since her meetings ended around 4:30 p.m. and her black car was in the driveway already.
I hesitated for a couple minutes to just go up to her house and ask to stay until the monster leaves. So I pushed my pride aside and slipped through her fence, into the driveway, and right up her large front door.
Her house was pretty big, bigger than ours for sure, and than most houses on this street. I knocked on the door and a couple seconds later the familiar blonde maid opened up the door with a questioning look in her eyes.
"Yes?" Her Russian accent peeks through as her soft voice speaks.
I type a response onto my phone and show it to her. After reading it she nods and holds up a finger. "Give me one second," she says with a smile.
After the maid leaves, Evangeline stands by the doorway a minute later. After I explain to her why I'm here, she lets me through.
Her house looks even bigger and brighter on the inside. So many decorative pieces you only see in celebrity homes and large abstract paintings by artists that must've cost hundreds of thousands of dollars. Everything is white and pristine, and obviously cleaned about twice a day to maintain that high quality appearance. I spot the family pictures on a side table by one of the walls where a younger version of Evangeline and a little boy are posing in front of a beach. Other pictures include her parents and all the places they have visited.
She leads the way up to her room which is a long hallway with windows on one side of the wall that looks out to the other side of the neighbor's house. We go into the first door on the right side of the hall and I'm surprised at the sight of Evangeline's room.
I was prepared to see pink and flower patterned bedsheets, pink walls, posters of boy bands or pop singers on the walls, a vanity overflowing with expensive perfume and makeup brands, but it was quite the opposite.
One side of the room's wall was a built-in bookshelf filled with all sorts of textbooks and first edition classics. Her walls were a beige color and the only things on her walls were her accomplishments and pictures of places she's been to or old pictures of herself and friends. Her room was pretty neat, only a couple papers spilled onto the floor and shoes that were messily put away by her closet.
Her vanity did have makeup items and perfumes but were displayed in a way that wasn't overcrowding or messy. Her mirrors were actually clean and there were no dirty dishes or an abundance of water bottles by her bedside table. The only pink thing that I could see was a fluffy pastel pink rug in the middle of the room. It was pretty soft to step on and felt quite expensive. This was the definition of classy rich.
Her room smelled like her—strawberries. But it could've also been the perfume she usually wears that I end up getting hints of whenever she gets close to me. Her balcony doors were open, letting in the light summer breeze inside the room and giving her a clear view of the front of the house. The same balcony where she stood outside of with her maid, as they watched me unload boxes from the moving truck.
That was the very first time I saw Evangeline. She wasn't wearing makeup and was still in her pjs. I found it interesting that she was curious about who I was, but I'm sure it was just her curiosity about why I moved here. Let's face it, no one that looks like me doesn't move to Hollow Grove. They move to Florence and attend the institute. Well that's why Siouxsie says anyways.
I sit down on the bed comfortably when she invites me to as she sits at her light wooden desk with all sorts of notebooks, textbooks, and a PC stationed onto it. I notice that Evangeline stiffens when the familiar guitar strums play in the next room over. I know that her brother also listens to similar music that I do since his room is right across from mine. My window is open all the time and I can hear his music blaring all day.
The kid has good music taste and I bet if I played my music out loud, I would drive Evangeline insane.
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After dinner, we went back up to her room to finish the last assignment I had. It was an art assignment that is assigned every year and so far everyone in the school has done it once. I had to choose a muse for this semester-long project and the downside to that, was that I didn't know anyone.
The teacher said that we could choose a person in our art class or someone that we know in school. The only person that I know is Evangeline. I had to ask a few questions to learn more about her and be able to paint this project.
The things that I've come to learn about her are; Lavender is her favorite color, but she refuses to wear it or buy a lot of things in that color because it oversatures her vision and becomes bored of it, she's always wanted a pet and more specifically a ragdoll cat, her favorite fruit are strawberries, and her favorite books are The Secret Garden and Alice in Wonderland.
She seemed to always light up as she talked about her favorite things and even the smallest stuff. Almost like she never does that with other people. I guess she's more used to hearing other people talk and discuss the things that they want, rather than what she wants.
As I was about to leave, she asked me a question that I didn't see coming.
"Do you know sign language?" She asks curiously, her eyes are carefully watching me.
When I nod, she looks a bit relieved. I give her a questioning look but I let it go when I let out a grin as it all connects in my mind. I guess she wants to learn to talk to me.
I step out of her house and give her a lazy wave when she says she'll see me tomorrow. I go through her gate and towards my house. It was a short walk of crossing my yard and I was already at the front door. The monster's car is no longer on the driveway and I feel the weight lift off my shoulders at the relief that I wouldn't have to see them or interact with them.
They always did the most to try and get a word out of me, but they know that I won't ever speak again and I hate the look that they give me when they pretend to not know the reason why.
When I open the front door, both of my parents are greeting me in the living room. My mom's blonde hair was quite the contrast to my black hair as she had it tied up in a ponytail, clearly back from her shift. The smell of disinfectant was smothering the air, something that I've grown quite accustomed to growing up.
I didn't share a lot of similarities with her and my parents always joke around about how she wasn't my real mother. To this day, I feel like that might be true. We don't share the same passion of taking care of people, I'm not as family orientated as she is, and she didn't believe me when I told her about what the monster did to me at the age of four.
I was thirteen when I was sure that my mind didn't come up with those images of when I was younger. It really did happen and I had finally grown the courage to tell her, only for her to shut those accusations down.
'I think you're mistaking something that happened to you with someone else. There is just no way for that to happen. You had a very wild imagination when you were small and that is not something to joke around, especially because they are family.'
That was her response when I wrote it down on a piece of paper. I still have the paper somewhere in my pile of shit that is stuffed into one of my drawers.
The next day on Halloween, I was sent to a psychiatric hospital and had all sorts of antidepressants shoved down my throat. My relationship with my mom was never the same after that. She's a pediatrician and seems to care more about children that aren't hers than her actual own son.
My dad only stood by my mom's side and listened to what the 'doctor' said and didn't jump in to save me. So our relationship became rocky soon after I got out of the hospital. Family reunions, holidays, and birthday parties were always awkward because everyone felt like they were stepping on eggshells when they saw me. They were afraid to bring up the topic when they asked me how I was doing and what I was up to.
My usual response on the whiteboard was 'good'.
By the look of my parents' face, I knew they were wondering where I was, but from the look of mom's exhausted face, I doubt they were wanting to question me. My dad looked calm since his job wasn't so demanding and he could work any day he wanted. His real estate job was what got us this house in the first place.
Mom wanted a new start and to get away from the multiple reminders of my suicide attempts and dad always wanted to live in California. So they said goodbye to the Texas heat and said hello to the overpriced lattes and traffic jammed streets. Out of all places, they decided it was best to move here since I wasn't exactly getting better like they wanted me to.
"If I ask where you went," my dad says, "will you tell the truth?"
I shrug. "I'm not going to be mad. I just want to know where you went."
I was at the neighbor's house. She was helping me with my art project.
"Okay, you can go to your room." My mom gives me a questioning look but doesn't say anything and my dad gives me an encouraging smile.
Goodnight.
Once I'm out of their way and heading up the stairs and stop about halfway. I can just hear my parents conversing in a low voice.
"How long until we can start seeing results?" My dad asks quietly.
"It'll take some time to see a difference, but for now we just need to make sure he's not going out and being reckless," my mom replies, "we don't need to go through that again."
I move away from eavesdropping and shut myself in my room. My room was a mess, a perfect example of my mind. My bed wasn't made, there were dirty clothes all over the floor, and my guitars and music collection have taken up so much space on one side of my room.
There's a particular detail that throws me off and makes me freeze when I see that my black notebook was left on top of the stack of books I had on the corner of my desk. Usually that notebook is underneath my science book, not on top. Meaning someone was in here snooping around.
Then I noticed that there was a diamond ring left on the crevice between my desk lamp and crumbled up pieces of paper. I felt my face fall when I realized that it belonged to the monster. They had been in here and violated my space just like they violated me.
My room was an oasis for me and they entered it without permission and tainted it with their presence. Assuming that I would know they were in here, they decided to leave a gift as some sort of tease. Letting me know that they were never going to leave me alone.
I felt my heart beat anxiously against my chest. The only place that I felt safe for a while and hoping that because it was a new town and all, they wouldn't be able to ruin me once again. Even something small like a ring was enough to take me back to when I was four. To the time that it all started.
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Wednesday, August 21st
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The next morning in calculus, Evangeline walked in with a big smile as she made eye contact with me. She lifts her hands and signs to me goodmorning.
My eyes widened at the fact that she even learned just to even communicate with me without even saying words. I couldn't help but chuckle and signed back.
"It's actually not that hard to learn," she says, "I think I got some simple phrases down in two hours." She says with a smile on her face.
Once you do it more often, it will be more fluid and you won't think twice about what to sign.
"Wait wait," her eyes are wide with panic, "I didn't get that far." She says sheepishly.
I shake my head and grab my notebook to write down what I had said.
"You should teach me," she says, "if that's even possible."
I can try but you will have to be patient with me.
She carefully reads the words and gives me a soft smile. "Trust me, I can be very patient. I have so many videos saved for later to watch while I do my nightly facial mask."
I can't help but think that she was most likely doing something similar yesterday to learn a few basic phrases. She's beginning to get on my good side but by only just an inch of where our dynamic stands. She still has a lot to prove that she's not like her friends or others in this town.
Right after Spanish class as we were going to lunch, I was trying to ask her if we could meet up after school to do the next part of my art project when Ethan, her jock boyfriend, walks up to us with an angry expression on his face.
"Where have you been? I've been calling you and you haven't been answering," Ethan looks directly at Evangeline with a look of impatience.
I take a step back from the both of them, not wanting to get dragged into the drama.
"I had a morning meet with Jane and Mr. Vince and I've been in class all day," she says, stating the obvious.
"I wanted to know if you were coming to my practice," he says.
"I was actually going to meet with Ambrose to do the art project since I don't have anything to do after school today," Evangeline says as she glances over at me.
Ethan looks over at me, irritated. "Why are you hanging out with him? I'm your boyfriend, you should be supporting me." He scoffs.
"I-I was just trying to help him with his project," Evangeline stammers.
I don't like this guy. His attitude annoys me. "You know what," he says, "It's fine. Other people would rather see me practice instead."
"I'll go to your practice," she says. She turns to look at me and Ethan does so too. "We can reschedule right?" She asks.
I nod.
"See I can reschedule and go to your practice. It wasn't a big deal," Evangeline says.
"Let's get lunch then," he says, "you can talk to me all about how your campaign is going."
As both of them interlace hands and walk away, Ethan looks back and gives me a glare as they disappear into the cafeteria. I can tell that he has made up his mind about me. He doesn't like me and thinks that I'm pulling Evangeline away from him and needs to have some sort of control over her. I've never seen a grown man be needy over some girl's attention like that. Relationships disgust me.
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I just want to say that I appreciate the new readers coming in to read this new book that I had thought of while I was trying to finish Wild Spirit.
It took me some time to finish this chapter, but I am also writing like three other books lol anyways I really hope you guys like the direction of where the story is going and how much I'm revealing about the characters.
Once again it's a slow burn and slow building story so please be patient! :)
-N