Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 80689 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80689 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
“Trust me.” I take his hand and guide him to a space between the briars, to the little path I’ve created over the years, leading him on the route, briars flanking us like coils of barbed wire.
“Be careful,” I tell him.
The briar barrier only lasts a few yards before we enter the clearing in the middle, where the creek runs into the little pond that pools inside this space.
As I near the pond, I spin my backpack around to the front and retrieve the blanket I packed, handing him the backpack as I place the blanket on the ground.
He glances around uneasily, as though surprised by the place I’ve chosen.
“Is something wrong?” I ask.
“This place doesn’t seem a little eerie to you? Like something out of a horror movie?”
“Here?” I can’t understand what he means. This is my place. This is a magical place. “Would you prefer we go somewhere else?”
I hope he doesn’t because I want to share this with him, and fortunately, he says, “No, no. That’s not it. I was just surprised this is where we stopped, but I can tell this place means something to you, so I want to share it with you.”
As we set up our little picnic beside the pond, I feel safe and at ease, nestled in the warm humid air.
“So, I’m curious what draws you to this spot,” he says before taking a bite of his sandwich.
There’s this serenity about me as I glance around, surprised that he can’t seem to appreciate it as I do. But he doesn’t understand what drew me to this place; why it’s played such an important role in my life. So I try to explain.
“There are parts to being a twin that I really loved as a kid. It was great having someone to play and spend time with. Nice knowing that someone could read my thoughts so effortlessly. But there was another side of it. Sometimes we were together too much. And Simon didn’t let me have much privacy. I guess I needed a place to get away from his attention.
“He never liked briars because he wasn’t careful enough to navigate around them. So if I wanted to be on my own, undisturbed, I would come out here. Sometimes he would shout at me from the other side and demand that I come out. He was controlling, even back then.” I chuckle as I reflect on a far more innocent version of controlling. “I knew he wouldn’t bother me here. I also never told him where my secret path was. It was like a doorway into another world, one where I could have some privacy. Not that I came here a lot. Not back then. But later, I found myself trying to get away more and more frequently. After we grew apart.”
“After that stuff with Kieran?”
I gaze out at some ripples on the pond.
It’s the sort of comment that makes me worry I’ve shared too much, yet I invited him to know these things about me, just as I invited him to my secret place.
“Yes,” I confess. “After that, I really needed my privacy. But it was an issue before then too. I used to keep journals. Not sure if you’ve ever seen the black Moleskine ones. Father would get them for me for every occasion—birthdays, Christmas. I think the Easter Bunny even brought me one.” I smile at the thought. “And I didn’t just talk about my days, but about my fantasies and dreams. For a long time, Simon let me have that, but when we got older, I caught him reading them. Despite how cathartic it was writing in them, I gave it up because I knew no matter where I hid them, he’d find them. That made me feel like I couldn’t even have privacy in my own head. Now he’s taken that to a whole other level, and it’s nice to be somewhere I know he’s not watching or listening. Sometimes Hawthorne Heights can feel as oppressive as an August afternoon.”
“I assume you mean humid,” he says with a chuckle.
“You’ll see for yourself. At least, unless Simon decides to get rid of you before then.” It’s a fear I allow myself to voice now that we’re safely away from the house.
“Do you think that’s what will happen?” he asks, and fuck, I’m relieved there’s concern in his voice.
“I don’t know. When we agreed to help each other, I knew he was luring me into some fucked-up labyrinth, but now that I’m in it, I’m lost. And I don’t know where the next trapdoor or trip wire might be. Just hoping I’ll know the way out when I find it.”
As I take my sandwich out of the bag and start to unwrap it, all this talk about Simon reminds me of something else we haven’t discussed, something I wasn’t willing to broach until I knew we weren’t under Simon’s watchful eye.