Page 19 of We Are Yours

It was Christmas morning, and they weren’t loaded yet. They actually got us gifts that year too. We even put up a tree. It was one of the better memories I had as a child. They were few and far between.

As I grew older and understood how truly broken they were, I realized she already knew she was going to abandon us and was giving us a possible cherished memory that would eventually haunt us. What was supposed to be her honorable goodbye ended up being the nightmare she left behind.

“It’s my parents,” I simply stated when it wasn’t so simple at all.

Nothing about them was.

I hated them so much, though I also couldn’t bring myself to throw the photos away. Trust me, I tried several times. Especially when my rage overpowered my grief. Instead, I shoved it to the back of my mind with a rope, locking it there with a key I couldn’t throw away either. It was tied around my neck like a noose.

When it started tightening, choking me, I’d rip open that drawer, slamming it shut just as quickly. Again, and again and again. The loud bangs from it being opened and shut never silenced the driving fury burning deep inside me.

The expression on her face quickly shifted into sadness for me, and I despised nothing more than the conflicted emotions I held on to for my parents than the look of pity when it was staring right at me.

“Don’t,” I warned in a harsh tone, needing to put an end to this.

She winced for a second as she slowly closed the drawer. Her shoulders hunched, bowing her head for a minute while the tense silence filled the small space between us.

I spent most of my time alone. As the responsible one, I didn’t have much free time, and I tried not to burden Kraven. He carried enough of his own.

The weight I dropped on her wasn’t fair.

In a much softer voice, I rasped, “Hey…”

I didn’t know what to say. She straightened, meeting my gaze, and in the blink of an eye, there was no longer pity in her stare. This quiet resolve replaced it as she inhaled a steady, deep breath. I watched her lips part, thinking I’d see a nod or the shake of her head. Something to reaffirm the pain I couldn’t hide from her.

She was the first to break our entranced stillness, grabbing her notebook to write something in it. When she tore off the paper, handing it to me, it felt as if she was giving me a piece of herself before I even read what it said.

Isla.

One word.

Four letters.

Even her name was unique, not matching her Gothic exterior, making me think it was all part of her facade.

One thing was for sure.

One thing never changed.

She trusted me first, and I never let Kraven forget it.

We found this silent language between us, and at that moment, it meant more than words.

“Yo!” Gerald exclaimed, bringing me back to the present as I drove into his warehouse on the other side of town.

I played this role too well. Almost forgetting this wasn’t who I was, this was never who I was supposed to be. Somewhere along the way, I lost myself to survive the cards that were stacked against me.

“You’re late,” he addressed, standing by the entrance.

I kicked the stand on my bike, turning off the engine. Shifting my gaze to meet his, I challenged, “I’m here now, aren’t I?”

This wasn’t our first standoff, and it wouldn’t be our last. Gerald was always on a kick to prove he was the one in charge. He’d yet to figure out this wasn’t a way of life for me.

This was just a means to an end.

He cocked an eyebrow, looking me over for a second before he added, “You know… you’re lucky I like you.” He laughed me off.

His laugh didn’t lighten the truth.