The Price to Pay

Chapter Twelve

"Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgement that something else is more important than fear."

- Ambrose Redmoon

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Adeline

The house phone rings as I walk into the house, Death at my heels. Picking up the phone I see my Dad's name.

"Hey Dad, how's Izzy."

"They are keeping her overnight. She needs stitches and bruises that need to be examined. They are checking for internal bleeding now." His voice cracks as he talks.

"Okay tell her I love her and Dad everything will be fine." I don't like hearing him like this.

"I know Addie, I love you. You know that right."

"Of course Dad."

"If you were ever in a problem you would tell me." A knot forms in my throat as I try to reassure him.

"Yeah Dad, always." I wipe away the tear that slides down my cheek.

"Okay, I'll call you when she's out. Don't forget to eat Addie."

"Kay, love you, bye."

"Bye." I press end. Tossing the phone on the counter with extra force than needed. It would break him, if anything ever happened to me. Izzy than me, he would wallow away like when Mom died, he only came back because he knew he had us two to take care of. I remember how he would silently cry in his room, holding her clothes. We were behind in rent, bill were past due, he tried hiding the mail from us but eleven year old me knew. I saw how it broke him, I can't put him through that again.

Death runs his hand down my back, trying to console me. I had forgotten he was here. "Please just go."

"I can feel your pain. Talk to me."

As if he deserved to know my pain and suffering. "You don't get to know, Death. Just because you saved me when I didn't ask you too doesn't mean I owe you anything."

He drops his hand, sighing behind me, "I will be back tomorrow. To finish where we left off."

"Whatever." I mutter.

"Adeline." He calls to me, wanting me to look at him, to let him in a place no one has seen not even my father.

"Go." After hearing nothing I turn to see him disappear, finally listening to me, for once.

Going into my room, I shut the door with a bang. He's so quick to think that I wanted this, he forgets that I didn't have a choice, he was the one who chose for me that day.

I pace my room, suddenly hating everything in it. Pictures of me and James everywhere, when things were simple, hugging, smiling, laughing.

Now he can't even look at me without quivering away, without knowing I tried killing him. How could he possibly ever trust me again, I don't even trust me?

I read the stupid, meaningless posters covering the walls, I just found out that the monsters people talk about are real, that demons exist, this shit covering the walls was just a reminder of that day I died, me along with everything else. A reminder that I was no longer human, a beacon of questions and what ifs, darting across my room I rip them all down. Tearing them apart, I scream, tossing everything off from my dresser. Glass breaks, splintering, crashing to the hardwood floor. Monsters are real and I was one of them.