Locked With the Damned
Chapter Eleven: What Lies Beneath
He was a doctor. A delusional doctor. He had completely lost his mind when their son went missing and was brought back to them dead. He thought that he could piece him back together, but instead of creating their child, he created a monster. She left the new creature in the basement to die, shot her husband, and then shot herself. It was a murder suicide. It was grim. All she wanted was her baby, but she wasn't fit to be a mother. And then that child that was in the attic, he wasn't related to them, but I passed him on with them. He was killed by that man, Larry I think his name was, the man with half of his body burned due to Tate's tempter and psychotic ways.
I didn't know where Nora was going once she passed over, but I knew that Charles and the baby were going into the Light. Even Beau, he was going into the Light. That poor boy.
This time when I passed a family over it didn't hurt as bad. When I woke back up I was crying blood again, but I could move more than I could the first time. Maybe I was just getting used to it.
After I passed on the Montgomery's and Beau, I went upstairs to fix myself a sandwich (only one this time) while Tate put all of the supplies back in my room. I was softly humming to myself when I felt someone staring at me from behind. I turned slowly and jumped when I saw that crazy red head Hayden baring her eyes into my skull.
"Take a picture, it'll last longer." I mumbled, slapping some strawberry jam on one slice of bread and crunchy peanut butter on the other slice. I smushed the two pieces of loaded bread together and bit into it. Yum. Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches always reminded me of the days when things in my life made since and I didn't have to worry about anything.
"He's keeping things from you." The young woman mumbled, walking up to me.
"Who's he and what's he hiding?" I asked with as little interest as I could.
"You know who."
"If I knew who then I wouldn't be asking you." I sighed, putting the jam back in the fridge and the peanut butter back in the cabinet.
"He's his father!" Hayden suddenly shouted after three minutes of me not paying attention to her. I raised my eyebrows at her and walked to the table in the middle of the kitchen and sat down. I continued to eat my meal, looking uninterested in what Hayden was blabbering about, which pissed her off because it looked like she was about to pop a vein in her forehead. "She's his mother!"
"Hayden, you're making no since at all. Speak real sentences or go away." I mumbled, stuffing the rest of the sandwich in my mouth and getting up to grab some milk from the fridge.
"That crazy bitch Constance, that's Tate's mother." She sneered. I froze, dropping the carton of milk from my hand and causing it to spill out on the floor. She smirked at me. Guess she got the reaction she wanted. "Constance is Michael's grandmother too. Wanna know who his father is?" She asked, moving closer to me. She was backing me in a corner here. I felt like a defenseless, small animal. Because to her that's all I was.
"I d-don't believe you." I whispered.
"Oh really? Tell me; haven't you wondered why Michael looks strangely like Tate? That's because that's his son…and Vivien was his mother." Hayden said in a baby voice. Oh. I felt like I was going to be sick. I quickly turned from her and upchucked what was my delicious sandwich into the sink and wished that I had never eaten it in the first place.
"H-Hayden, shut up." I wiped my face with the hem of my shirt and turned away from her.
"He fucked the Harmon woman!" She screamed insanely. "Violet was his first, bet you didn't know that, either." Well we never really talked about our sex lives with each other. "He loved her, probably still does, probably loves her more than he'll ever love you." She said matter-of-factly and crossed her arms over her chest. I felt like I was going to be sick again. I turned to the sink but nothing came up.
"Why…why are you telling me this?" I asked while trying to cough up the huge lump that was stuck in my throat.
She glared at me. "Because," She bent down in front of me and flicked some hair from my face. "If I can't be happy, then you can't be happy." Just then we heard someone walk into the kitchen and turned our attention to see that it was none other than the blonde boy himself. I felt a surge of anger spark within me, and before I knew what I was doing, I grabbed the glass cup that I had set out for my milk and threw it at his head. He dodged out of the way and looked at me like a puppy I had just thrown out into a cold winter storm. Hayden smiled in triumph and moved away from me to the other side of the kitchen. She stood there with her arms crossed over her chest and a smirk that I wanted to punch off her face.
"Why do you keep throwing things at my head?" Tate yelped in surprise and stepped towards me. I held my arms out to stop him and he continued to look at me like a betrayed puppy.
"What was my one rule? What was the only thing I made you promise me!" I shouted. More bile came up my throat. I swallowed it back down and gave Tate a hard look as his eyes shifted from me to the ever delighted Hayden in the corner.
"To not lie to you." He said quietly. He looked away from me, shoving his hands in his pants pockets. I felt tears forming in my eyes but quickly wiped them away with the back of my hand before they had the chance to fall. Now was not the time to cry.
"Well do you have anything to tell me?" Before I could let him answer I screamed, "You fucked Vivien! Michael…is your son! I can't…why…how… And Constance is your mother! I—when I asked you about them…and you said you didn't know… He's your son Tate! Your fucking son." He backed up with every word I spewed at him like they were ice crystals piercing his skin. He looked like he was about to cry, but the one thing that added to my already pissed mood was that he didn't even look sorry. Yeah, he looked like he was going to cry, but he didn't look sorry. "Fuck! How could I not have known?" Because I was blinded by my feelings for him. "You two look alike. All three of you look alike." Just another fucked up family. "Damn it!" I screamed, grabbing my plate from the table and throwing it at the wall. The shards scattered everywhere but I didn't care. "I told you not to lie. I hate liars! Fuck!" I started to run from the kitchen but his hand wrapped around my wrist.
"Wynter—"
"Fuck you!" I wailed, yanking my wrist from him and ran out the front door. I couldn't stay in this house with him or any of them right now. I needed to get away. I let my legs carry me until they felt like they were going to explode from the fiery pain coursing through them. When I stopped I realized that I was at the lake Tate had brought me to the second day I was at the house.
My face was wet with tears now and it caused my hair to become matted with my face. My body was trembling. I was too pissed to think straight. I screamed out. I just screamed and screamed and screamed until I felt that my throat had gone raw. I fell to my knees and cried. There was nothing else I could do. I cried until I couldn't produce anymore tears and then I curled up into a tight ball on the ground and squeezed my eyes shut. I fell asleep, and in my dreams, liars didn't exist.
Somehow, and I didn't know how, I woke up the next morning in my bed. I was hoping Tate didn't carry me back to the house; I didn't want him near me. I didn't want him to touch me. I didn't know what I was going to do about the whole situation. It all hit me at once, the person I'm closest with and loved had been lying to me the whole time.
What the hell did he gain from all the lies he told me? If he had of just told me the truth…I don't know how I would have reacted to the truth, but I know I wouldn't have acted like I did yesterday.
The only thing I knew for sure was that, despite everything, I didn't hate him.
I groggily got out of my bed once my growling stomach wouldn't shut up. I made my way down stairs with no sign of Tate or Hayden or any of them. At the end of the stairs I saw two suitcases waiting patiently for whoever was leaving. My mom walked in from the kitchen and stared at me while she hooked in one of her earrings.
"Were you going to tell me that you were leaving, or were you going to have Moira do it for you?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.
My mom rolled her eyes and grabbed her keys from the small table by the door. "Wynter, I don't have time for this; I'm going to miss my flight. Where's your sister?"
"Right, you don't have time to talk to your daughter, whom you haven't talked to in almost two weeks." I stepped off the stairs, slightly kicking her luggage with my foot. "And I don't know where your favorite is." I said casually.
"Wynter, please. Don't act like such a child. I'll be back in two weeks." She said, picked up her suitcases and then walked out the door without another word.
"Love you too, mom." I mumbled and then turned and walked into the kitchen. I hadn't heard anything from my father in a few weeks, either. I don't even think he's been home… No wonder everything's been quiet between them.
When I entered the kitchen I saw a way too familiar face sitting at the table. Constance. She was sipping on something hot and I had a day-dream of me pouring it all over her face and watching as it boiled her skin. Okay. Too morbid. But I didn't like the woman; she gave me the creeps, and she was also Tate's mom, which made every feeling I had towards her a thousand times worse.
"Good morning, Wynter." She said, placing her cup down on the table and lighting a cigarette. I was actually dumbfounded that she hadn't died from lung cancer yet. Or that her skin wasn't baggy and practically falling off her face. "My, you look horrible. Are you sick, dear?" She asked as I walked over to Moira, gave her a look that said 'I-know-you-knew-you-bitch' and grabbed a bowl from the counter.
"I think I'm coming down with something." I said to Constance, not looking at her. I poured some Frosted Flakes into the bowl and went to grab the milk but then realized we didn't have anymore; I wasted it yesterday when I had my little tantrum. I mentally scolded myself and poured the cereal back in the box and grabbed a box of Cheese It's from the cabinet.
"Well it's no wonder; Cheese It's for breakfast? Not exactly a meal to start the day." Constance tisked. I gave her an 'I-don't-give-a-shit' smile and then walked back out of the kitchen and up the stairs. When I entered my room I threw the box of cheese crackers on the floor. I had lost my appetite. I walked over to my piano and plopped down on the bench. I stroked a few keys and then banged my head down on them.
What was I going to do?
"Hey…" I didn't look up to see who was beside me, because I already knew the voice. Tate. I hadn't spoken or seen him since I blew up at him yesterday afternoon. We needed to talk, but I didn't know if I could do it without breaking down in tears. And I certainly didn't want to cry anymore. "Do you…hate me?" He asked softly.
I laughed slightly and smiled, my head still down on the piano keys. "No, surprisingly, I don't hate you."
"Really?" I could hear the amazement in his voice. I looked up at him, moving my hair out of my face. His eyes were red from crying. His face was pale. Paler than normal. This time, he actually looked like he was sorry.
"Believe it or not, Tate, I don't hate you. I don't care what anyone says, you can't hate someone you love." My voice was hoarse. The water works were about to turn on.
"I'm sorry…I lied to you. I—I didn't know how I was supposed to tell you. How do you just come out and say that you have a son and your mom is the crazy woman who comes over here all the time?"
"I don't know, just come right out and say it? The outcome would have been better…" I trailed off, closing the key cover on my piano and propping my elbow up on it and resting my head in my palm. Tate continued to look me in the eyes, probably waiting for me to yell at him again. I wasn't going to yell this time.
"I know…and I'm sorry." He scooted closer to me and I made no attempt to move forward or back. "I…I really am sorry." Tears started falling down his cheeks. He lifted up a hand and brushed some hair from my face. "I love you."
"Don't lie to me again." I whispered.
"I won't." He got closer.
"Or so help me god I will castrate you. Don't think I won't." I said with a glare. He smiled at me and then pressed his lips against mine. He muttered an 'I promise.' Against my lips and then kissed me again.
Tate was a manipulator; I knew that for a fact; I wasn't stupid. He manipulated me to love him and he manipulated me to believe him. There was a part of me that hated him for it, but there was also a part of me that didn't care at all.
I loved him, I knew that. He knew that. And I knew that nothing could change it.
A/N: Sorry this wasn't up last night. I wasn't feeling well and went to bed. But, here you go! :D I hope you liked this chapter. A new one will be posted within the next few days. Actually, only a few more chapters left and this story will be over. I'll be sad to not write it anymore.
Oh, and I know the last few chapters have been short. :/ Sorry about that. I've been trying to make them longer...eh.
Review for the next chapter! :)
