References: You will find
all references at the bottom of this chapter, because there will be a few.
Signed, Anonymous
Chapter Five:
Falling From Grace
Telling the truth takes courage. Being the brave one in her family, she should have had said courage to muster. For one split second she had it, had the confidence in herself to tell the facts, but as quickly as it had come, it disappeared as soon as she lay on shaking hand on the cold doorknob.
Letting out a defeated sigh, Ruthie leaned on the counter in front of the sink. Slowly, she lifted her head to look at herself in the mirror. God, she looked terrible, pale with circles under her eyes (probably from lack of sleep, or too much of it). Her hair, it's beauty completely gone, fell around her face in stringy strands. Lifting a hand, she ran her fingers through it, hoping to better her image, hoping to change something so she didn't look like entirely like crap. It was no use. Her secret was eating away at her from the inside, and it was beginning to show, much to her dislike.
It was only a matter of time until everything was out in the open. Her father was hot on her tail with that letter. He would figure it out, if he hadn't already. She knew how he worked, what connections he had with the police department. Factor in the forever-pestering Lucy, and you had a tangled web of lies that was going to be far more difficult to weasel her way out of than anything else she had before. Most of the Camdens were gullible, for they trusted too many people. Just look at what happened with the Hunters, her father's so-called friends.
Ruthie had fooled her family many times in the past, lied to get what she wanted, and this case was no different. She would deceive until she was in the clear, until her father threw in the towel on the letter, until she, herself, believed that God would answer her prayers to be happy. She realized now, that her father's attempts to save her were mediocre. They were obvious and ultimately harmful. God must have not wanted her to be helped by the reverend, which explained why she had not accepted her father's out-stretched hand to happiness.
Although, every situation has two point of views. There is the optimistic view, where everything happens for a reason, and eventually you will be removed from your rut by a higher power: God. If you pray long and hard, you will get your answer, you will be saved. Ruthie's attempts so far, all had something to do with prayer. Ask and ye shall receive.
The other, darker, side of things had not occurred to this confused teenager until that very moment when she looked into her own eyes and saw for herself. It was in that moment, that she knew. She knew, could feel it, that she didn't believe in Him anymore, didn't believe in God, for He was making her suffer. If He really had the power to make things better, to help people make the right decision, why didn't she feel like she was ever going to move on? The truth was, He doesn't. Believing in Him was pointless, a waste of time. She was going to spend the rest of her pathetic life going through the motions, struggling to make her family believe that she was fine, that she was happy.
You are worthless, she thought at
herself. You weren't set here to do any greater good. You were set here
to suffer. Just like every other poor bastard set here, you are only good
for feeling "human" emotions. He's probably laughing at you, because He's
won. We are simply the ants sizzling under the magnifying glass.
"Again?" Lucy asked, sighing defeatedly. She looked down at the jacket draped over one arm before tossing it aside. "I thought we were going to have dinner."
Kevin set the cordless phone back into it's cradle. "I'm sorry, Luce, but this is important." He began to unbutton his shirt.
Watching him disappear into the bathroom, Lucy wondered if she was ever going to get her special night out that Kevin had promised her weeks ago. Every night that they planned to go out, Kevin had to work. He claimed that every single assignment was "important," and this one was no different.
Lucy slumped onto the bed and scowled. She was grumpy, and had every right to be. Having a husband was supposed to be wonderful and fun, but they always had to work. She pondered her mother ever feeling this way.
Kevin came out of the bathroom in full uniform, complete with gun holster. He gave her a slight, apologetic smile as she eyed him when he passed.
"What is it this time?" she demanded, glaring at him. She knew she sounded pathetic and ungrateful, but his work was beginning to get to her.
Her husband came to stand in from of her. "I can't discuss this with you right now, Luce. It's confidential until we know more about it."
She scoffed and looked away. "I'll bet," she mumbled, but Kevin heard her.
"I'm sorry, Lucy, but this is my job," Kevin tried as Lucy crossed her arms across her chest defiantly. He wished that he could let her know how hard this was on him, never getting to spend any time with her. He wished her could let her know that she was the most important thing in his life. He wished he could, but he couldn't, for if he were to show his true emotions to Lucy, they would both be weak. Kevin Kinkirk was strong, and he had to remain that way.
Lucy's eyes stayed cold and hard. "You're job is to protect people, not to abandon them - me!"
Kevin sighed heavily. "I'm not abandoning you, sweetie." His calloused hands slipped under Lucy's chin, drawing her face up. Gently, he kissed the stray teardrop that lay on her cheek. "I love you," he whispered in her ear.
Lucy's anger that she had only moments before began to instantly disintegrate. "I love you, too."
He pulled away, studying her smile
before he turned and left the apartment without a look over his shoulder.
Another round of encouraging her under his belt. He wondered how much longer
he was going to have to do that before she could understand that he was
doing this job to support her. Everything was for her.
Annie found Eric in the kitchen in the same position that he had been in for the past two hours: hunched over the rape letter that he still had not yet discovered the author of. To the side lay a notebook open to a blank sheet of paper. She didn't know how long he was going to torture himself with this. The same situation had took place years ago, where a young boy had asked for a prayer, not a minister on his doorstep. This was the same predicament, but just like the last, Eric was going to find who it was that wanted that prayer.
She laid a warm hand on Eric's shoulder, making him jump.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you," she apologized.
"No, that's okay," he replied, catching his breath once again as he returned to the letter.
Annie reached over and took the letter from the table and folded it up.
"Annie," Eric groaned. "I need that."
Annie stuffed the letter into her pocket. "You have been working on this for too long. Stop trying to find this person. All they asked for was a prayer, and you gave it to them."
Eric rose to his feet. On his face, he wore a solemn expression. "I don't have to find that person. I already know who it is." He sighed, exhausted.
Annie's eyebrows rose. "Who?"
He shrugged. "It's Ruthie."
She laughed. "Don't be ridiculous." But Eric's face showed that he was sure. "No."
She didn't understand, he knew she didn't. Maybe if she did, she would encourage him to talk to their daughter, or maybe she could try something. But he knew that Annie was set on not seeing it his way. If Ruthie hadn't come to him to talk, he would have gone with his own wife, but it was Ruthie. He was sure of it, even if Ruthie denied it.
"Annie, if you'd just ask her about this like I did, you'd know it, too."
Annie's eyes narrowed. "You asked her about it? Without telling me first?" She was suddenly angry. Eric was trying to pin this on her. Was it a crimne to respect her daughter enough to let her have some privacy in this house. Maybe she was being a bad mother, not trying to get to the bottom of this, but she just didn't want Eric to be right. He couldn't be right, he just couldn't.
"Annie, I'm sorry, but you have to understand that I had to know." Eric tried to explain.
"And she came right out and told you?" Annie asked, her voice heavy with sarcasm. She knew her daughter better than anyone else.
"Well, no - "
Annie interrupted. "Then you have no case. Until those words come out of Ruthie's own mouth, I refuse to believe that."
Eric sat, feeling defeated. "Was there something you wanted?"
She felt confused. "Huh?"
"You came in here to talk to be about something, didn't you?"
She had been so swept with her husband's proposition about Ruthie she had completely forgot about Thanksgiving. Taking a set next to Eric, Annie pulled the pad of paper and a pen in front of her.
"We need to talk about Thanksgiving."
"What about it?" Eric asked. He had forgotten all about the holiday that his family spent together every year. It would be here in all but three days.
"I talked to Matt and Sarah. They'll be here tomorrow, along with Mary," Annie rattled off, smiling that her entire family would be together again, even if it was only for a few days.
"Wait. What about Carlos and the baby?" Eric asked, scratching an itch on the back of his head.
"The baby's sick, and they don't want to risk bringing him all the way out here. Carlos is going to stay back in New York with him."
"That doesn't seem very fair to Carlos."
Annie shrugged, feeling her happiness being trudged on by Eric. "I know, but it was their decision, honey," she said sounding slightly annoyed and put-down.
The dryer dinged and Annie got to her feet, happy for the distraction, but before she attended to the clothes, she said firmly, "And please forget about that letter. At least for the holidays and your happiness." She couldn't let it go. If he didn't stop killing himself over connecting Ruthie with that letter, she was going to burn it.
Eric put his head in his hands, as
it throbbed. He was so confused and worried. His heart was set on Ruthie
being the writer of the infamous letter, but he was torn between what Annie
wanted him to do. How was he possibly going to be able to just let his
daughter go, when this was the time that she needed him the most, even
is she didn't admit it? But what if he was wrong? Ruthie wouldn't lie about
something like this. Or was his daughter even more diabolical than he ever
imagined possible?
References:
"...going through the motions..."
- from Buffy the Vampire Slayer
"Ask and yea shall receive." - 7th
Heaven
"Just look at what happened with
the Hunters, her father's so-called friends." - Is a reference to Love,
Lucy.
Next chapter should be up soon. I
already have a few ideas for it. More, and possibly some new, characters
will be thrown into the mix.