“Then we’ll do so tomorrow night,” I tell her. When we make it back to the bedroom, I pull Zaria onto the mattress to my left. Jarred slides under the covers on my right. It feels as if I’m a king with two hearts to love. And tomorrow, with the crown in hand, I’ll become one of the Sovereign.
As we fall asleep, I realize that it won’t be long before I’m married. And before, it would have scared me, but now, I smile as sleep steals me.
24
ZARIA
The full moon is the only light offered to me to guide me through the thick expanse of trees. I wanted to do this. When Finn told me about the game, I was confident I could race through the darkness and hide from him. The only thing is, he grew up here. He knows every inch of this forest. He’s the lion, a hungry hunter, and I’m nothing more than a deer about to be devoured.
Thankfully, the black clothes I chose to wear offer some camouflage in and amongst the trees, which look like black shadows, watching over my demise. My light footsteps don’t make a sound as they carry me through the dense forest. I can’t hear him or Jarred behind me. My heart thunders against my ribs, reminding me of the life that flows through my veins.
It wasn’t too long ago that I wanted to stop that thrumming. I wanted to let go. And as I move through the darkness, I recall that night with clarity.
“Dad,” I whisper when I walk into his office. I know it’s late. There are times my father will tell me to leave, when he’s busy, but he doesn’t this time. “Can I talk to you?”
“Of course, Zaria,” he says with a smile as he gestures for me to sit. The chair opposite his desk has been something of a haven to me for most of my life. I would come in here when I needed to talk, or just for him to be a presence in his space. Dad had a calming way about him that put me at ease when I was worried. And growing up, that was a lot. “What’s on your mind?”
“I was with Mom at the country club today,” I start, still unsure of how to bring up what I overheard. I shouldn’t have listened to them talking about me. I should have stood up for myself, but I know that anytime I cause a scene, my mother is there, admonishing me. So, instead of telling them they’re liars, I listened to them laugh about my father.
“And?” When he urges me on, it’s with a smile, but when he sees the look in my eyes, the grin falters and his expression turns serious. “Zaria, what’s wrong?”
“There were a few girls talking about us,” I tell him. “I went off to the restroom and when I got back, I overheard them laughing about us. About you.” I twist my hands in my lap, my nerves taking over. Perhaps I shouldn’t tell him this. Maybe he knows and he’ll get angry. But it’s bothering me too much for me to let this go.
“Zaria, what happened?” Dad asks again. I’m not sure what emotion is in his voice, but it makes my chest ache. He watches me for a long moment, and my fear that he’s going to shout at me for eavesdropping twists in my stomach.
“They said you’re not my real father,” I finally blurt out, without thinking too much about it.
The silence that follows my revelation is heavy. It makes me feel as if I’m drowning. I used to do that when I was younger. I would be in the bath and slowly sink into the nothingness the water offered. It was always so silent. It confirmed that there are places where quiet exists.
I would seek out the silence because it was the only time that I could truly focus on something other than the noise of press, of social media, of the constant barrage of people wanting my attention. And even those forcing me to look at who I was, a liar. A fake. They called me these things because it’s true, I wasn’t truly happy. I was only showing them a shiny version of myself.
I became addicted to the feeling of my lungs not being able to pull in air. Just like now. I watch my father’s face contort in pain, then guilt flickers in his eyes, and I want to take it back.
But I can’t.
I can never swallow those words again.
“I don’t want you listening to them,” he says to me. “They’re just trying to cause trouble in our family,” he continues adamantly. “Are you listening to me, Zaria?”
“Yes, Dad,” I tell him with a nod. But I can see it in his eyes, he’s lying. He’s blinking too quickly, and his hands are twisting on the desk. And when he picks up the pen, he swivels it round and round and round. It’s hypnotic, watching my father panic. The movements are slow, but they’re there. If I were a stranger, I would never know, but I’m his daughter.
“These rumors are nothing more than that.” His voice is firmer now, but he’s already given it away. The truth was there, in his eyes. My father just lied straight to my face. There are no take backs.
It feels as if my chest cavity has been knocked in. As if the breath from my lungs have been stolen, and I doubt I’ll ever be the same again. He’s just like everyone else in this world—a liar. Fake.
“I have to finish my homework,” I tell him as I push to my feet. I don’t wait for him to say anything more before I rush from his office. The pain of the lie slices right through me. It’s worse than the taunts I receive on my social media.
It’s nothing like the bullying I live with on a daily basis.
My feet carry me through the house and up to my room. In my bathroom, I shut the door and lock it. I need something, anything. Dad won’t come up here, not for a while. If I don’t show up for dinner, he’ll come looking; whereas, my mother wouldn’t be bothered if I didn’t eat.
I find the bottle I’m looking for. The sleeping tablets my doctor prescribed to help me get some rest when my insomnia kicks in. Flicking the cap open, I fill my palm with the little white pills. These will have to do. I fill a glass of water and take them one by one. I want them to slowly course through my system, and shut down all the horrible thoughts that plague me.
Seeing as I’m not his daughter, my father won’t miss me. And my mother, she should never have had children in the first place. Once my hand is empty, and the glass holds no more water, I set it down and go back to my bedroom.
On the bed, I lie back and close my eyes. It won’t take long. Soon enough, these little pills will work their magic and I’ll be gone. A smile of relief curls on my lips. Knowing that I won’t feel the pain, I won’t hear or read the vile words anymore. It all culminates in my heart, and I’m finally at peace.
Darkness shrouds my vision, and when I try to lift my eyelids, I can’t. They’re so heavy. Even when I do manage to fight the exhaustion, my room looks blurry. But it’s not for long because, soon enough, I’m taken to the darkness where I’ll forever lie.
I shake my head of the memory. I’m in the forest, alive and breathing, while Finn and Jarred surround me. They’re like wolves, hunting with bloodlust on their minds. Adrenaline shoots through me when I hear a twig snap close by.
As long as I can get to the lake, I’ll feel calmer. But the moment I step away from the tree that’s been shielding me, an arm wraps around my middle and a hand shoots to my mouth before the scream lodged in my throat can escape.
I’m lifted into the air before the person carrying me makes his way deeper into the darkness. The scent of his cologne, the smell of his skin isn’t familiar, and panic sets in. I swing my legs, trying to kick at my attacker, but it’s not use.