Love is a Four Letter LIE (Vampire Academy)

Discovering The Lies Behind The Truth

Okay guys, Sorry for the long wait (again)! I recently got a job so I'm balancing college, work, and watching my siblings so my dad can work. So updates will still be a little slow. But worry not! I AM NOT GIVING UP ON THIS STORY! I will find time to write! I really appreciate you guys sticking with me. :) This chapter is a bit more of a filler than anyting. Hope you guys enjoy.

Chapter Six: Discovering The Truth behind The Lies

"I lose my way and it’s not too long before you point it out. I cannot cry because I know that’s weakness in your eyes; I’m forced to fake, a smile, a laugh every day of my life. My heart can’t possibly break, when it wasn’t even whole to start with!

Because of you, I’ll never stray too far from the sidewalk. Because of you, I learned to play on the safe side so I don’t get hurt. Because of you, I find it hard to trust not only me, but everyone around me. Because of you, I am afraid.

I watched you die! I heard you cry! Every night in your sleep. I was so young! You should have known better than to lean on me. You never thought of anyone else, you just saw your pain. And now I cry in the middle of the night for the same damn thing!"

Kelly Clarkson - Because of You

　

Roughly three days had passed since my arrival and meltdown at the Belikov house. In that time, I stuck close to Olena and oddly enough, Yeva. Both of them had become somewhat of a saving haven for me, Olena because she was an over protective mother hen who refused to let the other crowd me and Yeva because although they all loved her, the family left her alone for fear of her anger.

But if anyone noticed how skittish I was being, it was Yeva.

They say that time and old age dulled the senses, much like too much wear-and-tear will dull the blade of a knife. What a crock of bull. The old witch-like woman had proved to me several times she was anything but slow.

Dimitri had once told me that Yeva was a ‘sort-of witch’ who often had visions during sleep, and for the longest time I had thought he was joking. . . Until I came to Russia to kill him after his forced transformation. Long before I ever arrived, she knew who I was and what I had come to do.

Filling my time was perhaps one of the hardest things for me. As a guardian, my days had been filled with classes and patrolling. The only other things I had time for was the occasional work-out and the basic hygiene needs. Here in Baia, there was no one to guard. And as much as I loved to work out and as ironic as it is, run, my body wasn’t healed enough to fully work myself. So I sat there, either watching Olena cook, or Yeva scowl at random things her grand-children did.

For the record, I had tried to read a bit and watch a bit of TV. In Russia, there seemed to be no such thing as an English bookstore or an English TV station. Hell, I even tried to listen to the radio. Once. There was a song that had been replaying time and time again throughout the day. Who ever wrote the song was clearly a fan of 70’s music in America when writers block reigned supreme and writing the same three lines over and over had seemed cool.

Well, the thing about songs like that is the fact that they are easy to pick up, the bad thing is that they also get stuck in your head easily. And they refuse to leave. It’s like a broken record going over and over and over until you want to bash your head against the closest wall. Or tree.

On the second day of my trip, I had had the song memorized and was singing it as Yeva, Olena, and I walked home from visiting the market.

And for the life of me I couldn’t figure out why people were giving me strange looks as we walked though the park. Olena looked like she was on the verge of hysterics and even Yeva was trying to hide a small grin. Yeah, the song’s turn mimicked Twinkle Twinkle Little Star but come on, who doesn’t like that song to some small degree?

Olena later told me that the lines I read managed to pick up were part of a parody song and roughly translated meant "Tinkle, Tinkle on the Potty, When you feel pressure in your tummy, Like a good girl wipe your tusch, Then flush it down with a woooosh! Tinkle, Tinkle, on the potty, When your done wash your hands like Mommy!". As it turns out, I had been listening to a child’s radio station. Which I had then repeated in the park for over an hour. NOT one of my finer moments.

I didn’t get much of a choice about my activities on the third night. All of Baia was cooped up inside while a storm ravaged the small town.

As odd as it was for me, the Belikov family sat down together -minus Yeva- and played games together. From Hand-and-Foot, to Sorry, to several Russian games I knew nothing about, the family entertained themselves as the weather outside threw a hissy fit. And as always, I watched from the sidelines, feeling completely out of place.

Growing up alone without your parents will leave a strong impression. As much as I wanted to be part of one, family life held no sense for me. I couldn’t understand it because I had never lived it. Even when I had grown up beside Lissa as an adopted part of the Dragomir family, I had never really belonged.

It wasn’t until dinner that Yeva came down to join us. From the tousled hair and rumpled clothes, I guessed she had been sleeping.

The storm continued to rage outside, but it was the eldest Belikova that held my attention.

She looked me straight in the eyes before rattling off something in Russian. I looked at Karolina who looked to be about as puzzled as I was.

"Translation?" Karolina opened her mouth to reply when she was interrupted by the one person I was trying to avoid.

"She said, ‘Armed flowers are not meant to be stepped on. The road of secrets and lies is a deadly one. Only a coward runs from her fears.’" Dimitri stepped beside Karolina gently took Zoya from her arms. The look he shot me before he left the room clearly said he knew there was something I was hiding- and he was going to figure it out. Whether I wanted him to or not. Olena gave me an apologetic smile.

"I’m sorry Roza. Yeva can be. . . how you say. . . eccentric at times. Even we cannot understand what she means at times. I hope she didn’t upset you. Did you understand anything about what she meant?"

As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t tell her the truth. Even if I could I don’t think I would tell her. I knew she could help me, but somehow the thought of Olena being disappointed in me was something I couldn’t bear. So instead I shrugged,

"Honestly? With all the crap that goes on in my life, it could be just about anything."

A loud scoff came from the corner of the room where Yeva stared at me with one hand cradling her right wrist and the other gently rubbing her shoulder. And I knew right then that she knew. About the abuse, the shame, the fear. Did she know about the compulsion?

My right wrist throbbed slightly when the memory of Adrian’s latest assault rampaged my mind. The spirit users hadn’t had the time nor energy to waste on fully healing a dhamphir, so they had healed my injuries just enough that I would be able to travel to the Belikov’s.

Years of training brought my guardian mask slamming into place before anyone could gauge any emotion I might have given away. Fear is a very powerful thing, it could cause one to do extremely irrational things in the name of self-preservation. But I had every right to be afraid. I had every right to be petrified. He was going to kill me when I got back. The second he knew that someone knew about what he was doing to me, I was a goner. I nodded to Olena before heading up to my room. That night I dreamed of everything Adrian was going to do to me when he discovered that Yeva knew the truth.