Page 10 of Sac-rifice (RBMC: Cleveland, Ohio Chapter #7)

ANTS they reminded me of the ocean and freedom.

People didn’t run into the ocean to be reminded of how small the world could feel or what was on the agenda for a business meeting scheduled for the next day.

When a person ran into the ocean and looked across water that only ended with the sky, they felt a sense of freedom.

The boundless waves were a reminder that not every question had an answer—that there were things out there in the world still worth exploring.

I thought of all of these things by simply looking at him.

I swallowed hard, and my attention darted away from him to the ground and focused on movement that I hadn’t noticed until now.

A busy anthill sat right beside his shoe, but he hadn’t noticed them yet.

A row of black ants marched out of the thick grass, crossed the dirt, and down into the sandy knoll.

They were carrying on with business as usual; for them, it was a normal Tuesday afternoon.

They were completely unaware they could be moments away from being crushed beneath the sole of his shoe.

His foot shuffled about three inches away from them when he pulled his hand away from my face.

He would surely kill them if his shoe landed over their tiny bodies.

“No! You’ll ruin everything!” I wailed, grabbing his elbow before he stepped on them, pulling him closer to me and away from their home.

“Huh?” He tried to take a step backward, and I wrapped my arms around his body to hold him still.

I understood living things died everyday—I swatted a mosquito last night when I found it sucking the blood from my forearm—but violence for no reason didn’t sit well with me.

Of course, he didn’t know what he was about to do by simply taking a step.

Their deaths wouldn’t be his fault, but if I kept my mouth closed and let it happen, it would be mine.

To the world, they were only tiny insects, and a lot of people didn’t care whether they lived or died.

In truth, most would probably prefer them to be eradicated from the earth’s soil.

Not me. I saw the world differently. I didn’t feel like I had the right to decide if anything lived or died.

It wasn’t my choice to make for anyone or anything other than myself.

“Don’t kill them. Please,” I begged in a small voice, squeezing his body tighter against mine and pulled us back a few steps.

“Kill who?” He looked over his shoulder and across the lawn.

“The ants, Shane! Please don’t squash them!” I didn’t know if he would do it or not. I thought about Isaac and when he held a wasp down pluck off its wings not too long ago.

Isaac’s mood changed with the day and often depended on if my brother was around us or not.

When my brother was with us, it usually meant a grumpier than usual Isaac and a Shane who picked my brother over me.

Shane was Isaac’s best friend, not mine; I understood that.

However, I didn’t feel safe when I was alone.

That was my problem, not theirs. Despite understanding all of that, it still stung when they included Tate in their plans and left me behind.

Shane tried to explain their choices once, giving me a pitiful excuse about me being too innocent and smart to be weighed down with them.

I didn’t care if I got in trouble and my feet were tied to the heaviest weight.

I would be as bad and dumb as I needed to be and spend eternity sinking to a bottomless ocean as long as I was with them.

Two of them alone equaled trouble and by adding the third into the equation, their plans were sometimes downright diabolical.

The principal of the school and their school teachers constantly called the house, and when Mom didn’t answer, someone showed up at our front door because one or all of them had gotten into some type of trouble during school hours.

I didn’t know if school officials showed up at Shane and Tate’s house as often as they did ours, but Mom had listed their parents as one of our emergency contacts, too.

I was sure the boys’ names were written in permanent marker on a watchlist somewhere out there at a CPS office, but Mom had grown up here, and it was a close community.

One where everyone gossiped about everyone else’s business and outsiders weren’t welcome.

They all protected each other’s dirty secrets to keep their own from spilling.

Shane and Tate’s parents were the ones who typically dealt with whoever came looking for answers.

Although, I was certain their motive wasn’t to keep Mom safe but to protect us kids.

Their mom never mentioned having an issue with dealing with the brunt of it all, but I’m sure it wasn’t easy on her.

Shane’s body silently vibrated against me, and he shook his head. “Such a little dove heart.” He laughed.

“Why do you keep talking about doves?” I peeked over his shoulder at the ant hill before looking at him. My lips brushed his, and my heart somehow climbed out of my chest and into my throat with its powerful pounding.

He rested his forehead on mine and stared at me from his pale cyan pools.

“Because, Cor, doves are considered defenseless, but they aren’t.

They only attack when they have to. We never see their violent side, so people think of doves as a sign of peace.

They can protect themselves, but usually hide from danger.

They fly away, and sometimes, they protect their flock better than if they were to stick around and try to fight something that’s bigger than they are.

The thing is, they don’t cry, not even when they’re dying.

But when they’re heart is breaking, they cry for the rest of the world to hear.

They cry for others but never for themselves. ”

“I’m not crying, Shane. I just didn’t want you to kill the ants,” I mumbled more than a little confused and irritated that he suggested I was.

Regardless of my current feelings, I didn’t want to step away from him.

When I was in his arms, I wasn’t scared.

He made me feel safe. I never wanted our embraces to end, but they always did.

I’d never chosen to kiss a boy, and the thought of kissing anyone else gave me the urge to vomit, and yet, kissing him didn’t. He was my brother’s best friend and my secret protector. He chased away the bad thoughts when they found me and kept me safe when he could.

“Exactly, Cor.” His chest lifted and fell slowly.

“You’re always trying to protect something else or someone else, but you refuse to protect yourself.

You’re strong. So strong.” He sniffed, and his eyes focused away from my eyes and onto my forehead.

“I just wish you would understand that. I can’t always protect you.

I would if I could, but I can’t, and it kills me,” he whispered as his voice trailed off, and he cleared his throat.

My shoulders rose and fell in silence. I instantly felt more helpless and barer than I ever had in my entire life.

I tried everything to stop what kept happening to me over and over again, but I never had enough strength.

I was too small to fight someone twice my size.

Every time my body ached and begged for death, my mind took me to safety—usually I found myself with Shane.

I always vowed to protect everything I could until the day arrived that I was able to do it for myself.

One day, maybe, I would be what Shane thought I was and would be big enough and strong enough to keep myself safe.

Until that day came, I had Shane. He was right, he wasn’t there every time I needed a protector, but the times he was meant the most. Someone cared enough about me to defend me, and that was enough.

I didn’t need the world to be kind to me since that was asking for too much.

Shane was hung up on the times I was left to fend for myself in his absence, though, and I was thankful for his presence even during the times he didn’t think he was with me because in my mind, he was.

I squeezed him harder as I silently hugged him, and he hugged me back. “Who protects a dove when it’s alone?”

“I don’t know. I guess it has to find something to remind it that life is worth fighting for,” he answered softly against my ear.

“That’s what you do for me.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re my protector. You take me to safety when I’m not strong enough to find it myself.” I told him honestly. It was something we both knew to be true, but neither of us had ever admitted it out loud.

“You still get hurt, though. I try to stop it, but you still get hurt.” He sniffed and pulled free from our embrace, and his arm swiped under his nose when he sniffed a second time.

He focused on the ground and then to where the ant trail disappeared amongst the tall blades of grass.

“I try, and you still get hurt. I’m not enough.

We need to tell somebody, Cor. Please?” he begged, looking at me with reddened eyes as a tear slid down his cheek.

“I’m sorry you still get hurt. I’m sorry I can’t make it stop. I’ll never be enough.”

“You are enough,” I confessed, shaking my head.

Telling someone what was happening would mean Isaac and I wouldn’t live here anymore; I was old enough to understand that.

I refused to live in a world where my family didn’t include three noisy, hell-raising boys.

I was strong enough to endure the black eyes and busted lips and anything else that happened.

His opinion of himself didn’t matter. If it wasn’t for him, I would have let the darkness swallow me a long time ago.

I was on the verge of drowning the first time he saved me, and even though he didn’t know it, he hadn’t left me since.

He was there protecting me and keeping my head above water, biding time until we both climbed out from the inky bottomless waters that I called a childhood.

“I wish I was,” he sighed, squeezing me one more time.

“You’re more than enough for me, Shane,” I spoke bluntly.

He needed to hear the truth. There was no sense in him feeling lesser than for not being able to erase all of the bad things that happened to me.

They weren’t his fault. Sometimes, bad people did bad things, and there wasn’t anything anyone could do to stop them.

Bad people always found a way to be bad.

“Cor, where are you?” Isaac called from the distance, and I froze. Shane released me and gave me a weak smile.

“I guess you better go back inside before he finds us.”

“You could come over and watch some TV with us,” I suggested, knowing his answer before he spoke.

His hand rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, but I…um…have to do something for Mom.”

“Oh. I understand.” I smiled weakly like him.

“Raincheck for next time?”

“Sure.”