Redivivus
Disclaimer- I do not own 'Holes', it belongs to Louis Sachar.
Summary – Seventeen year old Squid makes a transition from juvenile delinquent into murderer, and only the sister of the victim can give him the chance of redemption.
Warning! – Mild swearing.
Author's Note –
HermioneandMarcus –Thanks so much for the review, and I am really trying and updating as soon as I can.
HunkyChunkyMonkey97030 – Aw, thank you so much, I was hoping it wasn't getting too corny. Thanks for reviewing.
76478747 – I absolutely loved reading your review. Thank you so much and I hope the wait wasn't too long for this chapter. I really hope for another review, but even if not thanks for this wonderful one!
Chapter Thirteen
"A lie for a lie"
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"Good evening, I'm Sharon Keith and here with the 9'o clock news. Today's top story is circled around the seventeen year old murderer who has escaped from prison just two days ago, thought to be mentally unstable and extremely dangerous. The police warn those in the…" The television screen turned black, as Squid stood with his finger poised over the power button.
"What are you watching this shit for?" he spat angrily, his eyes fixed on April, who sat slumped on the floor, leaning against the bed post. Her eyes drifted upwards and looked tiredly at him.
"You are all over the news, someone is bound to recognize you," she said, her voice monotone, eyes glazed over in disinterest and face sullen. Squid's brow furrowed and his eyes narrowed greater than before, glaring at her with anger.
"What the fuck is with you?" he asked in demand. April sighed and lifted herself from the ground, trying to match his height but found herself a good foot shorter.
"This is just so tiring, Squid," she sighed. "I can't keep being some marionette doll for your entertainment. I have a mother and father to look after – I have responsibilities. I don't know what kind of fantasy you have come up with in your head, but I don't want to be here with you – I did not willingly runaway with you of my own choice. You threatened my father's life, Squid. I never want to be here with you." He could feel his stomach sinking, and his chest aching, looking at her now narrowed eyes gazing at him with such a hatred that he could feel his skin peeling away, revealing what she could see; his revolting, mangled soul. His cheeks sucked into his molars and he clenched his fists, his mind running away with him.
"But you love me, April," he said simply. His eyes now filled with fatigue, masking over the true anger as he really knew she was going to leave. He wouldn't let her, he couldn't let her. Her face settled on disgust and she looked away from him, before quickly glancing back at him, staring at him now with disbelief. His body began to shake involuntarily, his lips pressed tightly together, holding in his breath, just trying as hard as his might not to release all the furious fire blazing inside him. "I did this for you, April," he spoke softly and strained, containing the anger and putting on a sweet mask. "They didn't care about you. They don't fuckin' need you like I do!" His anger was rising higher and higher, tingling in his fingertips, looking upon her with such an intense gaze, as if to keep her from moving. April's eyes were wide, gazing with fear as his words strangled around her throat suffocating her. He began to edge towards her, a strange smile gently upturning the corners of his lips.
"I-I c-can't help you, Squid," she whispered, slowly walking backwards, before finding the back of knees hitting the edge of the bed. He kept coming forth, his gaze unmoving and directed only on her quivering form. "I need t-to leave," she stammered trying so hard to force the words out to sound strong, but in turn had the opposite effect. She closed her eyes as he stood an inch away. "Stop," she pleaded, so quietly and hopeless, dripping with desperation. His rough hand gently placed on her neck, his thumb slowly tracing her jaw-line, caressing the skin tenderly, raising goose bumps on her skin. He bowed down slightly, just so his lips brushed her ear, April feeling his breath on her neck, raising the hairs on the back of her neck.
"If you leave me, I'll fuckin' hang myself, April. I'll hang myself for you – because of you," he whispered, words falling form his lips so smoothly and confident, his fingers slowly applying slight pressure on her neck accentuating his point. April's eyes widened, and her torn lips quivered, she could feel his other arm slowly snaking around her waist, pulling her into to him, tighter and tighter.
"P-please, don't…" her voice was crumbling away, slowly fading into the silence surrounding them. "I-I…miss him…jus-jus…I miss him so much," she whispered, her eyes slowly closing and her body becoming slack, only his arms supporting her disgustingly thin frame. Squid's ears peaked as faint whispers greeted his ears, sounding from just outside the door.
"April, do you hear that?" he asked, his eyes wide and now looking around in alert. "April?" he shook her body gently, but she did not stir. Squid looked down at her still face, like a porcelain doll's; unmoving and hauntingly pale. Forgetting the whispers, he pulled her legs up in his other arm, allowing her head to rest in the crook of his other elbow, supporting her little body like you hold a newborn. "April?" he whispered, her body completely still, his voice cracking into a low croak of desperation. He shook her violently and his face contorted into anger. "For fuck's sake!" he cursed loudly and within a split second, the door to the crumbling room was burst open, an army of police flooding inside, their guns poised, before pausing as their eyes settled on April, splayed in Squid's arms. Barking voices of officers, demanding Squid various things, fell upon his deaf ears as all he could hear, was his own heart beat, drumming quickly in his head. He looked down once again at her cold face and felt his stomach twist painfully in regret. His tired eyes glanced back upwards, his surroundings moving in seemly slow-motion and without sound, officers shouting things at him and each other, and as he gazed around the scene before him, his eyes were caught with another pair or piercing blues. His brow furrowed and eyes narrowed dangerously as Squid looked into the eyes of a traitor, standing so confidently out in the hallway, a camera man following behind him and a notepad clutched in his long, slim and pale fingers, a smirk plastered across his thin face, his other hand coming to sweep threads of hair to the rest of his slick-back hair. Squid's mind roared with anger and his jaw clenched as he glared intently at Zigzag, his body almost quivering trying in vain to contain the fury, roaring inside.
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Her body felt weightless, yet aching and throbbing, her joints seemed almost cemented, but it was then that she realized she could hardly move. April opened her eyes, revealing fuzzy vision of a dark, seemly crooked room, filled with towers of filled cardboard boxes. A light hung above her head, hanging low and the light seemed to sear though her papery eyelids, pulling more ache in her head. She struggled slightly, finding her arms secured behind her, bound by what felt like rope; rough and scratchy. Cold salvia soaked the skin at the corners of her mouth, stuffed with ill-tasting material tied around her head. Her throat was dry realizing the hopelessness of her situation and her eyes jerked to the side as a sudden movement sent a pulse straight to her nerves.
"I'm gonna' take off your gag, if you promise not to scream," Squid said, his hands already poised behind her head, though his eyes level with hers. April gently nodded, despite the ache in her neck. The material was pulled away from her mouth, and she suddenly realized the dull pain in her jaw, moving it around slightly. She looked away from him, her eyes settling on a large rat to the side of where she sat tied to a chair, its little pinkish nose twitching for the scent of food. "You ain't been eatin' enough, I managed to find some food aroun' here that wasn't rotten," Squid's voice sounded kinder than before, almost convincing her that he had concern. She went to speak, but a spoon of gooey substance was forced into her mouth, causing her to gag and involuntarily swallow before spluttering and pressing her lips firmly together, turning her face away from him as far as her sore neck would allow. Squid's hand grasped her jaw and forced it to face him, before shoveling another spoonful of goop into her mouth, feeding her like a young child. The taste was tangy and reminded her of peaches. "You are eatin' this shit whether you like it or not," he grumbled, feeding her the last of a large jar he held. "There." April narrowed her eyes at him and pressed her knees together feeling more exposed then she would have preferred.
"Where are we?" she asked, trying in vain to sound strong and angry, but instead just sounded like a child with an innocent ring clinging to her words. The corner of Squid's lip upturned revealing a smirk, before standing and his face becoming out of view, clashing into the blazing light above her.
"Don't worry sweetheart," he said, kneeling again, in front of her, his rough hands on her bare knobby knees, bruised and grazed. She considered about struggling again, but thought it pointless, both ankles were attached to a chair leg, the splintering wood cutting into her skin. More questioning would just lead to answers she'd decided she would rather not know. "Here we are, I told you, April. You need me – you want me," he whispered, the words cutting into her stomach. Her face contorted into disgust and she looked at him with a heavy glare, before finally settling on sympathy.
"Squ-Alan, I don't understand – what are you trying to gain? What is there to gain from this?" April whispered, her voice crumbling. Squid shook his head and clutched tighter, his hands now at her thighs, beneath the material of her shorts.
"Don't you get it? April, some people are just fucked up," he replied so forcefully, "I am fucked up," he spoke as gently as he could stand "And so are you," he finished, placing an almost soft kiss on her knee, his light stubble grazing against her skin, causing her stomach to twinge in revulsion. April closed her eyes and willed herself to not think and let her escape.
"Do you want to be just like him?" she whispered softly, her face bowed low so he could not see her face. Squid lifted his head from her lap, and leveled with her, using his hand to fist in her hair and force her to face him.
"Who?" Squid asked his voice husky and low. His eyes searched to meet hers, and when they finally met, he could see her eye-balls gleaming, the light shining off of her iris, now glinting a subtle green in the odd light.
"Your father, Squid," she replied. "The man you've tried so hard not to be," her lips curled in disgust and anger at every word she spoke, it was the first time he had ever seen her so angry, her words coated in something so unlike her regular fragile squeak. Squid's nostrils flared as he breathed deeply, his lips pursed and eyes narrowed.
"I am not like him," he stammered slightly, the words sounding so fake to himself; his mouth betraying him. "I am not like him!" Squid bellowed – spittle landing upon her face as he shouted; April swore she could feel the room shake. She looked down and her hair hung like draped over her face.
"I rung that number on the ticket you gave me, you know," she said gently. "The one David wrote down the day he died…" she paused and took in a long deep breath as her voice became shaky. "The last person to hear his voice was a call-girl. He spent his last hour talking to woman – looking for…" Squid cupped his hand over her mouth. He didn't want to hear that from her – she was too innocent; he could feel himself getting angry at the thought that someone had taught her what a call-girl was. He looked at her face, not scrunched up crying but her face was so plainly straight but still unmistakably haunting – he wished she would just cry, at least tears could be wiped away – he would let them soak into his skin and absorb her pain, but she refused to share. April faked a smile and looked to the side, shaking her head, Squid's hand falling away from her mouth. "I guess that's the irony of it all." Squid allowed his hands to drop to her ankles, feeling where the skin was broken and grazed. She didn't even flinch as he touched the sore spots.
"Why'd you say that to him, April?" he asked, his voice dropping low. He felt goose-bumps rise on her skin beneath his fingers. "Why'd you say you wished he was dead?" he repeated, his Southern accent becoming more prominent. April hung her head, bowing forward, losing her eyes and biting her lip harshly.
"He told me I was a mistake," she whispered, barely audible. "He said that my parents didn't want me – and that I wasn't even my father's child." Squid cocked an eyebrow and knelt taller in front of her, lifting her face by upturning her chin, forcing her to look him in the eye.
"Kids say that shit all the time ya' know," he said, a slight smirk twitching upon his lips trying to extract the humor from it all – even if there were none.
"But he was telling the truth." Her voice was cold, distant and smeared with something Squid couldn't recognize. She turned her face, looking to the side closing her eyes and she breathed, her chest delicately rising and falling.
"I don't get it. So what if you dad ain't your real dad," he drawled, still looking at her intently. April sighed softly and turned back towards him.
"I went and asked my mother about it," her voice was so fragile, he wondered how the sound waves even traveled the air. "She told me abut this guy she knew, how he was nice enough and somewhat pleasant. She was married to my father at the time. But when she was at some party with this guy, he had followed her into the bathroom, pulling on her hair," April paused, her breaths becoming more hitched. "She told me how she, even now could feel how her back would hit the sink." Squid's lips pursed together, containing how people get raped all the time. He was going to try and understand, he was going to try and comfort her. "I know that every day, she tries not to see me as her worst mistake. I am a living memory of that night – she even told me how much I look like him, we even have the same laugh," her words were becoming strained as she willed herself not to cry, she couldn't be so selfish. "My mother is a wonderful person, if it wasn't for her selflessness, I wouldn't even be here and then maybe her and my father would be happy."
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Author's Note – I know it seems like all they do is sit around and talk all the time, but I promise some action is coming up. Please review; it would be very much appreciated. Thank you!