Page 27 of Fear No Hell

Sam

She kneels in between my legs, brushing my hair away from my face as she murmurs comforting words, her lips brushing reassuringly across my cheek, my forehead, my nose.

It says a lot about where my head is at that I don’t pay any attention to the woman I’m pretty sure I’m in love with kneeling in front of me and touching me.

Instead I hatch a new plan: since I can’t get ahold of my mom and can’t drive over to her house because Lila hid the car keys after I went more or less catatonic, then the only solution is to get the information out of Arthur. The world’s worst father.

Except maybe not my father.

I gently scoot Lila out of the way, stand, and storm down the basement stairs to where the man I have only ever considered a sperm donor—who apparently may not even be that—is trussed up, limp, and unconscious in the rain chains.

Knowing where my head is at, I decide to let him revive naturally. Otherwise my temper could get the better of me, and I might actually kill the fucker. No matter how bad off I am right now, I don’t get the honor of executing him. Only Lila does.

Inhaling deeply, I drag a chair in front of Arthur and sit there, waiting for him to wake up.

I sit there for hours, elbows rested on my knees, my chin dropped in my hands. Not angry, necessarily. More confused. Turning my mother’s comments over and over in my head.

What did she promise not to tell me?

Who did she make that promise to?

Has my whole life been a lie?

Why would Mom lie to me?

If Arthur isn’t my father, who is?

Y’know, simple thoughts. Not indicative of a mental breakdown at all.

Shadows cast inky, ever-shifting dark patterns on the ground.

I think I see them moving at the same rate as my heartbeat, fast and pulsing.

I tap my foot against the ground, focusing on the repetitive vibration of my shoe striking the concrete, using it to center myself and push away this ridiculous feeling of connection I have to the shadows surrounding me.

I know they're not connected to me. They’re simply changing position with the sun’s slide across the sky and disappearing with its descent into the horizon.

I don’t have some magic control over shadows.

They don’t respond to me; that would be impossible.

No matter how much I feel like I’m tied to them.

Like I can feel them somewhere deep inside of my soul.

I sit there well into the night, waiting for Arthur to revive.

The sun rises while I wait for Arthur to return to consciousness.

Lila is at my side for every single minute of it.