This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual events or people, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
The author makes no claims to, but instead acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the word marks mentioned in this work of fiction.
Grave Little Secrets. Copyright © 2017 by Stacy R. Collins.
Edited by Matthew Brennan and Break Through Author.
Cover by Ampersand Book Covers, www.ampersandbookcovers.com.
Interior Book Design by Break Through Author, http://www.breakthroughauthor.com.
All rights reserved including the right to manufacture in any format, sell, or distribute copies of this book or portions of this book. For information, visit http://www.48fourteen.com.
Library of Congress Control Number: 2017936822
ISBN-13: 978-1-937546-63-2
ISBN-10: 1-937546-63-2
This book is dedicated to you, the readers.
I hope you love reading the words as much as I loved writing them.
Enjoy!
SATURDAYS…THE ONE DAY OF the week I get to lie around and replay the events of that awful afternoon in my head. This is my way of punishing myself; and I deserve it after what happened. Images of those two blank, bloodied faces dance around in my mind, reminding me of what took place that day. But, of course, even my internal torture gets ruined by my sister and her stupid alarm clock.
You would think, after spending three weeks of my summer break hearing that annoying buzzer go off every Saturday morning at the crack of freaking dawn, I would be used to it, but no. It’s still the most ear grating sound in the world, right up there with nails running across a chalkboard. And, like always, she sleeps right through it.
“Oh my God, Anna! Would you turn that stupid thing off already?” I pull the covers over my head to shield my ears from the shrill cry of her alarm.
The incessant blaring has been going off nonstop for about fifteen minutes now, and if she doesn’t wake up and turn that damn thing off I am going to beat her in the head with it.
Beep, beep, beep.
“Anna! Turn. It. Off!” I scream, pressing my pillow against my ears, trying to drown out the noise.
After several failed attempts to wake my sister, I finally resort to throwing my pillow at her from across the room. I lay back down and closed my eyes, hoping that the next sound will be the pillow smacking Anna in the face. I hear a soft thump and open my eyes to see that the pillow has landed on the floor, about a foot from her bed.
Beep, beep, beep.
“Damn it, Anna!” I shout, pounding my fist into the mattress. I jump out of my bed and stomp over to her side of the room, passing by her posters of Michael Phelps and Justin Timberlake. Their eyes seem to follow me, taunt me, judge me. I’m tempted to rip them, with their condemning stares, down from the wall, but don’t. I stop in front of her nightstand, cluttered with gum wrappers and her old swim practice schedules, and turn off her alarm. Leaning over her face, mine directly in front of hers, I scream, “Anna, some of us would actually like some peace and quiet in the mornings, especially during summer break! So either turn that damn beeping, buzzing, irritating contraption off of I’m going to throw it out the window!”
Anna’s eyes fly open as she wrestles with her covers, almost falling out of the bed in the process. I try to hide my laughter at her futile attempts to unravel herself from her sheets, but I can’t contain it. Anna kicks her foot out, her heel slamming into my shin, halting my giggles, and tells me not so nicely to get back to my side of the room.
“Anna, if you hate getting up at five o’clock in the morning, why did you go out for the swim team?” I ask, sliding back into my lonely bed, forgetting my pillow on the floor.
“Because, Alex,” she draws out the last letter of my name, making her sound like a hissing snake, “unlike you, the rest of us want to live a normal life and get to know people in this God-forsaken place we now call home. You should take a stab at it instead of staying holed up in our room all day.”
I roll my eyes and attempt to get into a comfortable position, but it’s hard without my pillow. I should have picked it up on my way back to bed.
“You know, there is stuff to do in this town. It’s not as bad as you make it seem. If you would get out of the house every now and then, you would see that. You’re a freaking hermit.” She snatches up my pillow and tosses it, aiming for my head, as she continues her lecture. I throw my hands up and catch it before it has a chance to smack me in the face. I tuck in under my head and roll to my side, facing away from Anna, hiding my irritation. If she only knew what happened, and the hurt and guilt I feel over keeping this enormous secret, then maybe she would be more understanding. “It’s like you’re on this cycle that’s stuck on repeat. Get up, mope around all morning and afternoon, like you’re the only one in this house with problems, then go to bed just to do it all over again the next day. You know, you’re not the only one suffering here. We all lost something, but we’ve found a way to move on and do the best we can with this change. But whatever, I’m not gonna push you. Go ahead and stay locked up in the house, then maybe here I can be the popular one and be known as more than just Alex’s lame sister, like I was back home. Here I can be the pretty, popular twin while you’re the one who doesn’t get a second glance. You can finally feel what it’s like to be an outcast,” she says.
God, what crawled up her butt this morning? I wonder as I fight the urge to snap back at her. Images of how life used to be, before our family was torn apart, flash through my mind.
EVERYTHING WAS DIFFERENT WHEN WE lived in Hilldale, Virginia. I had it made. I was junior class president, editor of the school newspaper, captain of the school dance team, and I dated the most popular boy in school, Jake Roland. He was the guy all the girls wanted, and he was mine. I couldn’t have asked for a more perfect life. I had the ideal family also. Well maybe not ideal, but it was pretty close. Mom and Dad, even after twenty-two years of marriage, still had just as much love for one another as they did the day they got married. Zack, my little brother, although annoying at times, was one of my best friends. He was my video game partner, my horror movie sidekick, and my cohort in crime. We always had fun when we were together, pulling pranks on the family, or coming up with our own ideas to scare the neighborhood kids. And then there’s Anna, my go-to person, my confidant, my twin sister. We may have been on opposite ends of the cool spectrum, but nothing could tear us apart. Ours was a bond that would last forever.
But then Dad got sent away and Mom packed up our life and moved us to the little podunk town of New Hope, Rhode Island.
Talk about a change. Back in Hilldale, we didn’t even know our neighbor’s name. We just called him Old Man Spike because what little hair he did have on his head stood straight up. But here, in New Hope, everyone knows one another, and they make it a point to say hello no matter how many times they’ve seen you that day. It’s kind of freaky. It’s like living in an episode of Andy Griffith where everyone is so friendly and nothing bad ever happens. God, I hated that show, but Dad insisted on watching it anytime it was on. I never understood how anyone could like that show. It was so fabricated, and I made a point to say so every time.
“Dad, why do you waste your time watching this? Nowhere in this world is there a place where everyone is that cordial. We don’t even know our neighbor’s name, and yet, the creative genius who came up with this show expects me to believe that these people know every single person who lives in that town? It’s so unrealistic!”
<
br /> “Well, it’s better than those crazy reality shows you and your sister love to binge on. I’d much rather observe people being friendly to one another, even if it is phony, than watch them attempt to rip each other a new one,” Dad would say.
But no matter how much I hated those stupid episodes, I always sat on the couch with Dad as he watched it. It was our special alone time. And I never imagined I would ever say this, but I actually miss sitting in front of the TV with him whenever that annoying whistling intro would sound through the house.
This place is nothing like home. I’m not the same Alex here. To everyone in this town, I’m just Anna’s sister—the weird girl who hardly ever leaves her house. I have made no attempts to fit in or get to know anyone, and I’m perfectly okay with that. After what happened, I don’t deserve to have friends and be happy. What I do deserve, is to live a miserable, lonely life. I am fine doing the bare minimum and going unnoticed. Anna, on the other hand, jumped in with both feet, taking full advantage of everything this place has to offer, not that there is much. Now, she’s the twin all the girls want to be friends with and all the boys want to date. Soon enough, she’ll figure out being popular, and staying on top, is way too much work.
New Hope. Ugh. I swear, Mom just pointed to a random spot on the map when deciding our new zip code. I don’t understand why anyone would willingly choose to live here. There is absolutely nothing appealing about this place. No designer shops on the corners, no private country clubs, hell, they don’t even have a Wal-Mart. The school looks like it was refurbished from an old hospital, and I have yet to meet one decent looking guy, but that could be because I haven’t really been looking. This place just outright sucks, which in a way works, it’s part of my punishment. Being shipped off to Siberia to suffer in my own personal jail. But Mom said the name was a sign. “We need a fresh start,” she would say, “and what better place than a town called New Hope.” Corny, I know, but there was no talking her out of it. Trust me. I tried, relentlessly. For weeks.
Finally, I just accepted it. I mean, I knew we needed to get away from all media and community gossip, but I hated the thought of having to start over. My family was dragged through the mud, with no chance of coming out clean. I should have said something. I should have told the truth. But I swore to Dad I wouldn’t, and I could not turn my back on him. Not after everything he did to make sure I was safe. Not after everything he was giving up.
Hilldale was my home, my haven, but we had become famous, and not in a good way. Every day it only got worse. It was like the town had made a secret pact to stay as far away from us as possible and to make our lives a living hell. The whispers followed us wherever we went. A constant reminder of what happened and what we were going through. Even those we considered our close friends ignored us. Mom had to disconnect the phone because of all the harassing calls. Our car windows were smashed, and the tires were slashed. We were living a nightmare, and we didn’t see it getting better anytime soon.
So, six months after Dad went away, here we are, building a new life, with new hope, in New Hope. God, just thinking about it makes me want to barf.
I CURL UP IN BED HOPING to get a few more hours with my thoughts, but it’s pretty evident that’s not going to happen. “Damn Anna and her stupid annoying alarm,” I mumble as I lie on my side, listening to her get ready. Does she really have to make so much noise? What could she possible be doing in the bathroom that makes that much racket? Did she decide to rearrange the medicine cabinet while she was in there? More than likely, she’s being extra loud just to annoy me, and it’s definitely working. Eventually, the rattling noises settle and I hear her turn the shower on. The sound of water rushing through the pipes relaxes me, and I feel the tension slowly leave my body. I begin to think over what Anna said, and she’s right. I’m not trying to live a normal life here.
I could fit in if I wanted to, I just don’t. Why bother making friends and putting down roots? People just turn their backs on you when you need them the most. I’ve already experienced that once, so why in the hell would I want to set myself up for that again? I lost everyone that was important to me. Every relationship I had was shattered in the blink of an eye. If they were truly our friends, they would have stood by us through it all. Instead, they acted as if we had some incurable disease you could contract just by looking in our direction.
I do get lonely, though, and most days, I feel empty inside. It’s as if one of those zombies from The Walking Dead drained me of everything that used to make me, me. Especially since Anna and I aren’t as close as we once were. The more I think about it, the more I feel that maybe it couldn’t hurt too much to make just one friend here. Then I wouldn’t have to sit around and torture myself with the memories of how it used to be in Hilldale, before the unspeakable, before Dad went away, and before my life went to Hell.
Reflecting about my life back in Hilldale elicits a ton of memories—some of them good, some of them bad. I wish I could say the good memories outweigh the bad ones, but after what happened, I’m pretty confident that’s not true.
My neck burns and the sensation spreads upwards, my throat tightens as a golf ball forms there. I rub my hands over my heated face, swallow a couple times, and force myself to think of something else, anything to keep the tears from coming. The last thing I need is for Anna to walk in on me having an emotional breakdown.
After what feels like hours, but is probably no more than ten minutes, Anna emerges from the bathroom, the scent of her strawberry body wash wafting off her damp skin. Her favorite fluffy blue towel envelops her petite frame as water drips from her hair, and thick cloud of steam follows her into the bedroom. I’ve always wondered why she showers before swim practice when she’ll just have to take another afterward, but I don’t dare ask and risk the wrath of Anna Spurlock. She can be brutal sometimes, especially in the mornings. Neither of us are morning people.
Anna walks into our shared walk-in closet and steps out dressed in her school-issued blue swimsuit. It has a yellow hornet, our lame school mascot, in the middle, and her initials, AKS, also in yellow, on the left side of her chest. She covers up with a pair of blue track pants, a yellow stripe down each leg, and slides on a pair of blue flip flops. I must admit, my sister is very attractive. Back in Hilldale, she carried around a few extra pounds, mainly in her butt and thighs, and she always kept her hair pulled back in a ponytail. She was never one to obsess over her makeup or making sure she was wearing the latest fashions, but now she almost looks exactly like me. Well, the Hilldale me, not the New Hope me. The New Hope me couldn’t care less about the way I appear.
Anna and I have the same caramel brown hair. She wears a cute pixie cut while mine hangs limply just past my shoulders. We have the same turned-up nose and dreamy brown eyes. The only visible difference between us is that I have a small birthmark above my right eye. Dad always said it wasn’t a birthmark, but a permanent bruise from the battle between Anna and me to be the first to break free. I won by two and a half minutes. I was always stronger willed…until I wasn’t.
Physically, we couldn’t look more similar, but that’s definitely where the likeness ends. Personality-wise, we are completely different. I was outspoken and outgoing. I was the one with a ton of friends, the one who always got invited to all the best parties. Dresses, heels, makeup, and everything trendy had helped keep me on top, well that, and dating the most popular boy in school. Anna was my polar opposite—a real introvert. She used to be a jeans, t-shirts, and Converse kind of girl. Her parties consisted of staying home, decked out in her hideous flannel pajamas and reading one her sci-fi novels. But despite our differences, she was my person, the one I could always turn to for anything. Or at least, she was until I became burdened with a secret. A secret I swore I would never tell anyone, not even Anna, the one person I share everything with. Nope, this one is going to the grave with me.
“Alex, quit staring at me like that. You’re freaking me o
ut.” Anna’s voice jolts me out of my thoughts.
I shake my head a few times to clear my mind. “Sorry. I was just thinking.”
Anna looks at me, disgusted, then shrugs her t-shirt on, grabs her wallet and school badge off her nightstand, and heads for the door. Suddenly, she stops, as if she wants to say something, then changes her mind and reaches for the knob. She pauses mid-step, her hand hanging in the air, and turns to look back at me, her face clearly showing her uncertainty. I know what she’s thinking before she even opens her mouth to ask the question I’ve become used to hearing.
“Alex, do you want to come watch me practice?” She practically blurts it out, her words running together.
The hopeful look in her eyes tears at my heart. She knows what my answer will be. It’s the same one I give her every time. She just doesn’t know what lame excuse I’ll come up with this time for not going. I figured, by now, she would just give up and quit asking. I haven’t left the confines of this two-story prison I call home since we moved here, other than the mandatory attendance of school, but since summer break, three weeks ago, I’ve had no reason to leave. God, has it seriously been that long since I’ve gone out? I really am turning into a hermit. I used to love going places with Anna, even if it was just to take a walk around the block. I feel like I’m letting her down, even though that’s not my intention. We’ve always made time for one another no matter how busy we were, but after what happened I slowly drifted apart from her. It’s not just her I’m slipping away from, though. I’ve tried to separate myself from everyone. I just can’t justify allowing myself to have friends or to being close with anyone after what I was a part of.
I look up at my sister and see my mirror image looking back at me, full of hope, but already preparing herself for the “no” she expects. I really don’t want to go. I would much rather lie around in my pajamas all day and watch TV, but I feel a tug deep in my chest for her and for the bond we used to share. It’s not her fault I’m carrying around this massive weight of guilt. She shouldn’t have to suffer along with me. I really do miss having our special sister time. Anna has always been my constant companion, the one person I could always be myself with. Reluctantly, I flip the warm covers off my body and dangle my legs over the side of my bed. I know if I keep pushing her away, I may lose her forever, and I definitely wouldn’t be able to live with that.
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