The Mute and the Liar (14 page)

Jayce
reaches
a
page
that
interests
him
and
clears
his
throat
and
puts
on
a
high,
squeaky voice,
probably
to
imitate
what
he thinks
I
sound
like.

“
15
th
February
2011.
‘Those
bloody
kids
are
here
again.’
That’s
Father.
I
refuse
to
call him ‘Dad’
because that
sounds
like
I
actually
care about
him...
”

I
grimace
in
shame,
slamming
my
head
against
the
glass
behind
me,
feeling
my
cheeks
go
bright
red.
I
give
up
on
trying
to
get
the
notebook
and
admit
defeat
and
just
lean
back
against
the
wall
and
hang
my
head
low,
wishing
I
could
turn
invisible.
I
feel
so
embarrassed
and
exposed,
like
I'm
standing
here
completely
naked.
These
words
were
never
supposed
to
be
said
out
loud.
I
wish
I
could stop him.

“
There's
this
gangly
boy
in
particular
who
really
gets
on
Father's
nerves.
They
glare
every
time
they
see
each
other.
That
may
or
not
be
because
the
guy smashed the windows of our car with
a
rock. Twice.
”

Jayce
stops
reading
and
chuckles
to
himself
and
looks
up
at
me,
that
playful spark
invading
his
eyes
once
more.

“
So
you
did
notice
me.
Do
you
want
to
hear
a
secret?
I
noticed
you, too.
And
do
you
know
what,
Mr
Lewis?
”
he
raises
his
voice,
turning
back
to
the
phone
.

“
There’s
a
whole
description
of
me
after
this.
A
whole
paragraph
just
describing
my
eyes.
And
all
you
get
is
a
sentence
saying
how
much
he
hates
you.
”

“
You
are
lying!
”
he
roars once
more,
but
there’s
something off-key
and
distant
about his voice.

“
Is
that
still
not
enough
proof
for
you?
Fine.
”
Jayce
turns
to
stare
at
me,
his
eyes
wide
and
bulbous.
“
But
you
brought
this
on
yourself.
”
Jayce
drops
the
phone,
so
it
is
left
hanging
by
the
wire
in
front
of
us.
Before
I
can
blink,
Jayce’s
hands
are
around
my
neck.
“
If
you
don’t
scream
I’ll strangle you.
”

In
a
heartbeat,
everything
cuts
off.
I
cannot
breathe.
This
thought
makes
my
very
existence seem
unnatural
and
impossible,
as
though
in
my mind
I
am
already
dead.
His
nails
scrape
into
my
skin,
his
hands
push
in
around
my
throat.
I
start
writhing,
my
hands
clawing
around
his,
trying
to
pull
them
away,
but
there is
no
effect.

Father
is
screaming
my
name
down the
phone.

I
tread
on
my
tiptoes,
writhing
around,
twisting
like
a
snake,
and
crash
into
the
glass
wall
behind
me.
He
holds
me
there
effortlessly,
his
grip
only
getting tighter.

“
Let’s
do
this
in
seven
seconds
shall
we?
That’s
your
favourite
number
isn’t
it?
In
seven
seconds
I
will
let
go,
so
you
can
scream.
If
you
don’t,
I’ll
wrap my
hands
around
your
neck
again,
and this
time I’ll
hold on.
”

Breathing
is
something
we
always
do.
We
don’t
even
think
about
it.
We’re
only
conscious
of
breathing
when
we can’t.

“
Seven…. Six.
”

As
the
life
is
being
sucked
out
of
me,
when
my
breaths
are
rapidly
becoming
shorter
and
shorter,
when
it
feels
like
every
breath
I
take
could
be
my
last,
all
I
can
think
about
is
air.
How
I
crave
it.
How
I
crave
to
inhale
the
cool
air
around
me.
It’s
there.
It
's
all
around
me.
I
can
feel
it
prickl
ing
against
my
skin,.
B
ut
I
am forbidden to
inhale it.

“
Don’t
you
want
your
father
to
save
you?
…
Five…
This
is
your
last
chance
for
freedom!
Four.
”

“
Alicia!
”
Father
yells,
although
I
wonder
how
I
can
possibly hear
anything
at
all
over
the
sound
of
my
chest
screaming.

It
feels
like
every
bone
in
my
ribcage
is
s
creaming
for
air.
M
y
chest
pulls
in.
I
s
ilently
try
to
plead
with
him
,
trying
desperately
to
make
him
stop,
but
it
is
clear
he
doesn’t
care.
His
eyes
are
wild
and
deranged,
his
nostrils
are
flaring,
and
his mouth
is
twisted
into
a
crooked
smile.

“
Three.
”

I
feel
a
single
tear
slither
down
my
cheek.

It
makes
me
hate
Jayce
even
more
-
s
ince
that
day
seven
years
ago,
I
promised
myself I would not cry again.
But
here
I
am.
I
feel
disgusted
with
myself
.
Nothing
has
changed.
I
am
still
that
weak,
pathetic
little
gir
l.
I
got
myself
into
this
mess
and
now
I
can't
even
find
a
way
to
run
away.
Useless.