Page 26 of We The Depraved

I wake then, tears falling down my cheeks and I fling myself into an upright position.

My breaths return to normal.

I haven’t had that dream in years.

The heavy weight on top of me, the need to scream and cry.

He’s dead, I think.

The judge is burning in hell.

My cellphone lights up on my nightstand and I lean over to see it’s my grandmother texting. Today she wants me over for a family dinner. In fact, she wants me over to help her do some of the cooking. She’s feeling better and a bunch of other cousins will be there that I haven’t seen in a while.

Getting up, I go into the bathroom, and stare at my reflection. Pinching my cheeks it does nothing. I look tired and could use some rest.

My phone pings again and I go back to retrieve it. It’s Silver this time. She’s been worried ever since I disappeared the other night.

I’m coming by bitch, she texts.

You don’t need to do all that, I reply.

It’s too late because by the time I hit send, I hear a pecking at my front door. Silver actually has a key for emergencies, but she never uses it. Tossing the phone on the bed, I go to the door. She’s here with doughnuts and coffee.

“Two sugars, and three creams,” she hands a cup over.

“My fav,” I throw over my shoulder and we go into the kitchen I never use.

We’re silent for a few minutes and then she stops pretending.

“What in the fuck is going on?”

I sip the coffee; it’s heaven in a cup. There’s a hint of hazelnut creamer just the way I like it. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

She raises an eyebrow and then plops her perfect ass onto a waiting stool. “Lie to somebody other than me.”

“There’s nothing going on,” I shrug.

“Honestly, Sage, you’ve been acting weird as fuck ever since your disgusting daddy was buried. Is it…is it that?”

Silver is a dog with a bone. When she smells a story, she won’t give up and we both know it. “That kind of has something to do with it.”

“Just tell me. Maybe I can help?” She offers a smile.

I drink more deeply from the cup, then return the smile. “It’s honestly Reese.”

Silver looks thoughtful. “I hate that you guys have never recovered from the shit that happened in your childhood.”

“It’s just life,” I murmur. “My Nana just texted me and I’ve gotta get over there to help her with Sunday dinner.”

“Reese gonna be there?”

I turn up my nose. “Probably with all them damn kids.”

“Stop it, you’re so mean.”

“Maybe I’ll be nice today,” I offer.

“Well I’ve gotta get going, I have a potential internship thing happening,” she tells me.