penance. a love story (The Böhme Series) (38 page)

“He did,” she said emotionless.

I lifted my head in shock
. “Well, then how can you blame yourself?” I asked.

“Because I was her
sister
, I shouldn’t have done that,” she said as she leaned back against me further.

“You can’t carry that weight with you forever. You have to live your life, Hannah. You can’t keep living in a walking death
,” I said as I leaned my forehead against the back of her head.

She pulled my arms tighter around her
. “I’m trying. I am. I’m with you aren’t I?” I heard the smile in her voice as she leaned down and kissed my arm that held her. “It's a step being able to come out here. I haven’t been to this spot in two years and I used to come here daily.” She took a deep breath, trying to keep her emotions in check.

“You’re right, it's a start
.” I kissed her temple.

“Hannah!” A yell came from the front porch. “Hannah!” It was her mother, and she sounded panicked.

We rose to walk toward the house and her mother came running toward us. I felt the apprehension coming from Hannah, but she pushed it to the side as she put up walls for other reasons now. She hid her apprehension behind her wall of strength. She kept her walls up to protect herself, but she was opening them slowly, letting others inside them. She approached her mother now, not with anger, but with the will to move forward, away from the guilt of her past mistakes.

“Oh honey, I thought you had left without saying good-bye and I panicked
,” Claire said.

“The motorcycle is still here, where could we have gone?” Hannah responded snidely,
and then took a deep breath to calm herself.

Her mother lowered her head in shame
. “I know. I just didn’t know where you went. I get nervous anymore. You understand. With Lily and now with your father, I’m afraid of losing you,” she said as she started to take Hannah into another hug.

“It’s a little late for that, don’t you think,
Mom
?” she said as she let her hug her, but didn’t return it.

“Honey, I know I haven’t been a good mother. I have lived in fear for far too long. I can’t blame your father for my actions. But we are both trying now. We made mistakes. I have someth
ing I need to confess to you,” she said as she lowered her head in shame.

Hannah crossed her arms over her chest as she looked at her mother with a blank expression. “Okay. What?”

Her mother ran back to the house and when we made it back ourselves, she returned to us with an envelope. She handed it to Hannah and as she read her name across the envelope she put a hand up to her mouth in shock. Looking toward me she said, “The handwriting is Lily’s.” She turned back to her mother. “Mom, why is there an envelope addressed to me in Lily’s handwriting?”

Her mother looked at her hands before shoving them in the pockets of her sweater
. “I’m sorry, Hannah. Your sister left that for you and your father found it first. He didn’t think you should have it and I just discovered it a few days ago. You know how messy the place is,” she said as she looked toward the house. “I never knew he had it. But now he regrets what the last two years may have done to you. He regrets the past Hannah, and he wants to make amends with you. He can't figure out how to say the words,” she said as tears began to fill her eyes and she lifted one of her small bony hands to her lips.

There were so many tears in this house and I wanted to pull Hannah into me and run away from everything. But that wasn’t what she needed. She was running from this for two years. She ran from her parents and herself. Every one of them did, even Lily. They were running for so long, they didn’t know how to stop.

Claire kept her eyes trained on her daughter as Hannah tore open the envelope she gave her. But as if it was too much for her to watch she turned to go back into the house, leaving her stunned daughter to read a letter written to her by her dead sister. A letter that was written two years ago and never read until now.

My Hannah-Banana-

I’m so sorry Hannah. I wasn’t strong enough to keep us together. I wish I could say something that might make this easier, but I know there were never easy words for us. We’re two different people that forgot how to find a common ground. My heart aches from the pain in my weakness. You were always the strong one, the way you stood up to Daddy and told me it was okay. Do you remember when I used to be the strong one? I was once the strong one, when I was little, but I forgot how to be strong. I was robbed of my strength.

I never told you what happened the day I lost my strength. It was the day I was going to face Daddy instead of letting him find both of us in our tree. Daddy wasn’t the one who found me, though. It was someone else. I won’t say his name, because I refuse to say it. But Daddy knows him. Daddy also refused many things after that day. One of which was refusing to acknowledge what happened. He punched the guy and said it was over a poker game. As if a fight over gambling was more valuable than his daughter’s dignity. Fucker.

I don’t want you to blame yourself for what happened to me and for what I need to do. I’ve held my pain for so long and it has become a burden I drag with me everywhere. I can’t have a child and pass that pain onto them. I cheated on Mike several times before you even slept with him, so don't think I was innocent. I don’t want you to believe I did what I did because of you, and don’t deny it. I know you think it is your fault. You always do. He and I always had problems. He slept around and once I went to school, I did as well.

I’m sorry for judging you and telling Mom and Dad. I did it because I was jealous of your freedom with it. Sex means freedom for you, but chains for me. It chokes me and I want the freedom to experience things without being haunted by memories. But the memories will never leave me. I have learned that now. This is the only way to make them stop. I just want them to stop.

I love you with all my heart, Hannah. You are the other part of me that will always know and remember the real me—the little girl that hid with you on the branches of a cherry tree. I was strong once, and that’s how I want you to remember me. I was the one that helped you up and held you tight. Remember me as that. Don’t remember me as the broken person I am. Remember me when you watch falling stars and smell the blossoms of the cherry tree. That’s where I will be.

Love you always little sister,

Your Lilith Billith

After reading the last sentence, I fell to the ground, and every broken part of me pushed to the surface and expelled itself out through my cries. I shook, and the world darkened as I fell forward onto my hands and knees and screamed. I held the letter to my chest and rocked back onto my knees and Wynn’s arms wrapped around me. I dug my nails into his arms to pull him tighter to me and he didn’t hesitate to hold me. He took the pain I inflicted without a word or even a wince. He held tighter as I clawed at him trying to bring myself out of the hole pulling me under, drowning me in the pain of losing Lilith again.

Everything I had thought and believed was wrong. She did this, because it was her only way to make the memories stop. I understood that. I did what I did, to try to make memories stop.

She never said anything to me. She protected me from the demons holding her captive at night. My father never told me and he kept this letter from me. The pain, guilt, and heartache I inflicted on myself for the last two years were because of his selfishness. He didn’t want to face the fact that he could have saved both his daughters’ lives years ago if it wasn’t for his own pride. “I… Hate… Him,” I said through clenched teeth and rolled forward onto my hands again, handing the letter to Wynn so he could read the truth. I couldn’t bring myself to say the words.

I watched Wynn as he read the letter and folded it back into the envelope. He stood and walked into the house without a word. Yelling resounded from the house and I wondered what happened. But my curiosity wasn’t strong enough for me to stand and find out. I rolled back to the grass and stared at the clouds rolling overhead. “Why didn’t you just tell me, Lily?” I asked to the open sky.

New tears formed as I thought of all the times Lily seemed to hold back with me. Times when Maggie and I discussed men and Lily would shy away. I always thought she was a prude, but in reality, her fears choked her. Haunted by her own past demons, she retreated into herself, much like I had the last two years.

I listened to the muffled yells coming from the house for several minutes before my mother came out to find me. She stood over me, arms wrapped around
her. “Did you know before this letter?” I asked without emotion as I stood.

She gave me a blank expression. “Did—you—know?” I asked with more forcefulness and anger.

She lowered her head and pulled her lip in, fighting back tears, before she nodded. “I’m sorry, Hannah. Your father’s rationalization at the time made sense. I didn’t want your sister to be seen as someone hurt or tarnished. We wanted her to be seen as the prize she was, the beautiful, lovely, pure bride that she was going to be when she grew older.”

“Appearances, mo
ther are just that. Appearances—they are a fucking façade. Just like this family. Just like this farm,” I said as I stood and threw my arms around to point out the things I hated that were fake. “You never wanted to know either of us. You never wanted to talk to us. You never cared to stand up to the ugly words he said to us.” I pointed at the house hoping that every angry word forced its way into the house and into my father.

“She was a fucking child, and you made her hide it away! You didn’t even let her tell me!” I fought back tears that were threatening to fall again
. “You showed us that our only value came from being a good, submissive wife. That is what we amounted to in your eyes,” I said quietly as I let the tears fall. “Did you have any dreams? Was this what you wanted out of your life? To live here on this fucking farm raising pigs, cows, and bees; making meals for an ungrateful bastard that treated you like
shit
?” I said the last word with so much anger and determination I hoped she felt it to her bones.

And as she turned angry eyes toward me I saw she did
feel
it. She let it ripple from her as a slap across my face. She put her hand to her mouth in shame, as soon as she completed the action. I pulled her hand from her mouth. “No, thank you. Hit me again. Show me fucking emotion. Stop being timid—stop bowing to him and stand up for yourself. You just stood up to me. Stand up to him!” I yelled as I threw my arm toward the house again. My face covered in tears, I let out a scream of frustration.

Looking at the house, I hadn’t realized that my father and Wynn had come outside and were standing on the porch taking in the scene between my mother and me. “She’s right, Claire
,” my father said as he looked at his wife. “I’m not going to be here much longer and I’ve held you back for too long. It sounds like these are just words of a dying man trying to make amends and maybe they are. But on a daily basis I regret the way I’ve treated you. There is a monster inside me that I try to tame every day and this disease has been the turning point for me. Since I didn’t have the strength to control it on my own, maybe my body decided to control it for me,” he said as he looked toward me.

“
Both of you need to know that I’m weak. I always have been. Your strength threatened me.” He hung his head. “All of your strength did—including Lily’s. I had to fight for control because there was so much strength in you. Then… then when that happened to Lily, I lost the last shred of control I possessed. I was weak and couldn't protect her.” He lowered his head even more and groaned as tears began to fall. His face contorted in pain and tears as he continued. “She was so pure and sweet and innocent and that asshole took every ounce of her strength and I had to protect both of you from the outside world, because I didn’t want that to happen again.” He stepped toward me and lowered his hand to take mine. With reluctance I took his as I turned to face him. His hand was dry and clammy and it wasn't the strong hand I remembered of my father.

He touched my face before pulling me in for a hug. Whispering in my ear he said, “I’m sorry for the part I’ve played in your brokenness. I see it in your eyes and it breaks my heart that I had a hand in that. You entered the world to be wild and free. The thought of what you might face in that chaotic freedom scared me. But it wasn’t my place to cage you. No one should do that to you, Hannah.”

I wrapped my hands around him and put them on his shoulder blades as I pulled him close. He was so fragile and nothing like the strong man I wanted to defy in my younger years. We lived in our brokenness for years without speaking to each other. I realized in that moment that words were always important. That sometimes yes, they need to be unspoken, but sometimes words cannot go unspoken. They have to be shouted and let out so as not to consume everyone around them. Unspoken words will kill us.

“I don’t want to spend your last days in silence, Daddy. I need you with me
,” I said through my quiet tears.

“Neither do I, Hannah. I need y
ou more than you may know,” he said as he put his hand out to my mother and pulled her into our hug. I looked over my father’s shoulder and looked into Wynn’s eyes. He was leaning against the post on the porch railing with his arms crossed, watching us. I felt loved in that moment. It didn’t start from my parents embrace though. It was in his eyes as he watched me. He truly saw me and it was in that moment that I knew we were never going to be able to let each other go.