widening as they raked over me. “Land’s sake, child.” She reached for me, but I took a step back, fearful her touch would push me over the edge and I’d totally fall apart. Ruthie’s face fell at the rebuke. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s the other stuff. This isn’t what I came here for.”
Ruthie studied the glistening countertop. “What did you come for, then?”
“I…” Tessa’s letter had given me the reason to start the journey that had led me here. I would’ve left in time anyway. I’d been ready to move on even before she died. Saying I’d come to find out about my mother sounded petty when Ruthie seemed to think I was capable of more. Ruthie knew something, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. “I came here to fix me.”
“Maybe you don’t need fixing.” Ruthie wiped the counter.
“Yes. I do.” I nodded. “All I am is a tool. Do you know what it’s like when someone saps the very being out of you, stealing it to use like a drug? No, you wouldn’t, would you? Well, let me tell you then. It’s like being mind raped. They touch you, and a hunger fills their eyes, latching onto you like you’re their last meal, and there isn’t a damn thing you can do about it.”
Ruthie studied me with that pitiful look I’d come to detest. “Have you ever thought you could give it willingly? The fight you’re having is inside of you. Maybe you can fix yourself. By voluntarily helping others you can help yourself?”
“Maybe I don’t want to help.” I sagged and averted my gaze. I’d already shared more with her than I ever had with Tessa.
Ruthie continued cleaning, and her lips puckered with the additional advice she held in.
There hadn’t been many people who’d had much confidence in me. Even I didn’t have confidence in me. Laying my hand on top of hers, so she’d stop her unnecessary wiping and meet my eyes, I said, “That one guy out there, Drake. He’s one of them.”
Ruthie nodded. “Oh yeah, even I can see that. I’d keep my distance if I were you, until you’re better trained, so he doesn’t notice you too much.”
“It’s too late, he’s more than noticed me. He invaded my head.” I cringed, the feeling of violation returning as I said it. I needed a shower, or a long Q-tip to get his residue out of my skull.
“What do ya mean, invaded your head?”
“His voice. I could hear him talking in my mind.”
“How in tarnation did he do that?” Ruthie eyes bulged behind her lenses.
“That’s what you’re supposed to tell me. What about the training you mentioned?” I glanced over my shoulder, fearing Drake would walk in to continue his mind rape.
“Training?”
“Yes, you said until I finished my training. To deal with the creatures, or what did you called them? The Oppressors.”
“Oh, the training.” Ruthie turned back to the sink, concentrating on scrubbing the last pan. “It’s kind of an on-the-job training. You know, start dealing with easier ones before you built up to the likes of Drake. Build up your skills, confidence and such, I’d imagine would be the best way to learn.”
“On the job? How am I supposed to know who’s easier than Drake? Thank goodness Griffith intervened, or I don’t know what would’ve happened.” I rubbed my upper arms as I shuddered.
“Griffith? You want to jump in feet first, don’t you?” Ruthie made a clucking sound with her tongue as she pulled the drain plug to empty the sink.
“What about Griffith?” I fiddled with the strings on my apron, hesitating over my next question, unsure if I wanted to hear the answer. “He doesn’t seem like the same thing as Drake.” I untied my apron. “What is he?”
Ruthie shrugged. “To tell you the truth, I’m not sure what he is. I don’t rightly think he knows for sure yet, either. But I don’t trust him.” She sighed. “Although I don’t trust many people. Only family.”
I averted my gaze, because I didn’t agree. If I went by my history, families
“It’s the other stuff. This isn’t what I came here for.”
Ruthie studied the glistening countertop. “What did you come for, then?”
“I…” Tessa’s letter had given me the reason to start the journey that had led me here. I would’ve left in time anyway. I’d been ready to move on even before she died. Saying I’d come to find out about my mother sounded petty when Ruthie seemed to think I was capable of more. Ruthie knew something, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. “I came here to fix me.”
“Maybe you don’t need fixing.” Ruthie wiped the counter.
“Yes. I do.” I nodded. “All I am is a tool. Do you know what it’s like when someone saps the very being out of you, stealing it to use like a drug? No, you wouldn’t, would you? Well, let me tell you then. It’s like being mind raped. They touch you, and a hunger fills their eyes, latching onto you like you’re their last meal, and there isn’t a damn thing you can do about it.”
Ruthie studied me with that pitiful look I’d come to detest. “Have you ever thought you could give it willingly? The fight you’re having is inside of you. Maybe you can fix yourself. By voluntarily helping others you can help yourself?”
“Maybe I don’t want to help.” I sagged and averted my gaze. I’d already shared more with her than I ever had with Tessa.
Ruthie continued cleaning, and her lips puckered with the additional advice she held in.
There hadn’t been many people who’d had much confidence in me. Even I didn’t have confidence in me. Laying my hand on top of hers, so she’d stop her unnecessary wiping and meet my eyes, I said, “That one guy out there, Drake. He’s one of them.”
Ruthie nodded. “Oh yeah, even I can see that. I’d keep my distance if I were you, until you’re better trained, so he doesn’t notice you too much.”
“It’s too late, he’s more than noticed me. He invaded my head.” I cringed, the feeling of violation returning as I said it. I needed a shower, or a long Q-tip to get his residue out of my skull.
“What do ya mean, invaded your head?”
“His voice. I could hear him talking in my mind.”
“How in tarnation did he do that?” Ruthie eyes bulged behind her lenses.
“That’s what you’re supposed to tell me. What about the training you mentioned?” I glanced over my shoulder, fearing Drake would walk in to continue his mind rape.
“Training?”
“Yes, you said until I finished my training. To deal with the creatures, or what did you called them? The Oppressors.”
“Oh, the training.” Ruthie turned back to the sink, concentrating on scrubbing the last pan. “It’s kind of an on-the-job training. You know, start dealing with easier ones before you built up to the likes of Drake. Build up your skills, confidence and such, I’d imagine would be the best way to learn.”
“On the job? How am I supposed to know who’s easier than Drake? Thank goodness Griffith intervened, or I don’t know what would’ve happened.” I rubbed my upper arms as I shuddered.
“Griffith? You want to jump in feet first, don’t you?” Ruthie made a clucking sound with her tongue as she pulled the drain plug to empty the sink.
“What about Griffith?” I fiddled with the strings on my apron, hesitating over my next question, unsure if I wanted to hear the answer. “He doesn’t seem like the same thing as Drake.” I untied my apron. “What is he?”
Ruthie shrugged. “To tell you the truth, I’m not sure what he is. I don’t rightly think he knows for sure yet, either. But I don’t trust him.” She sighed. “Although I don’t trust many people. Only family.”
I averted my gaze, because I didn’t agree. If I went by my history, families
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