Kailyn+Montgomery

There are things in life I don't and may never understand. Things with no reason, things significant and insignificant, fortunate and unfortunate. Some people deserve what they get, others don't. Some things are coincidences, others are perfectly planned. Over the course of your lifetime, you may meet people who will change your life, people you may never see again. You don't know if the stranger who passes you on the street is connected to you in some way, in a very big way, or if he or she will be. The only certain thing in life is that it is uncertain, ever-changing. There are things in life I don't and may never understand. Things with no reason, things significant and insignificant, fortunate and unfortunate. I won't even pretend to understand why things happen, how. But as long as I'm still breathing, I guess it doesn't really matter.
 * PROLOGUES**

He was an angel but no one could ever save me. I'd been wanting to die long before I'd ever met him. He may not understand my reasoning. He may hate me for it, hate himself for it. But I know we'll meet again.

Being blind has its advantages. There are things no one should ever see. Everyone is always looking for answers when true happiness is oblivion. A child knows all. As we grow older, we lose sight of what really matters. I can hear him sleeping soundly. The sad truth is, with each passing day, he learns, experiences, grows and his slumber will never again be this sound.

I know I'm wrong. But you have to understand, this did not start with me. It was done to me. I know it's not an excuse. I have the power to do right but I can't help it. It's like a hunger. I try to starve myself but I can't go for long without eating, especially when the food is right in front of me. And I'm a lawyer; the irony.

I've always wanted to fly. I've been working on it but it's harder than it looks. So in the meantime, I’ll just use the swings. I can even pump on my own, now. I love the wind, being light, not touching the ground, leaving the dirt, the concrete, the ugly. For that moment, it doesn't exist. For that moment, I'm above it all. I see everything, I hear everything, I just don't understand it all.

When you're alive, it's so easy to blame it on someone else, to only see your part of the story. But once you're dead, that all goes away. You see things you were never capable of seeing and begin to understand why things happen the way they do.

Chasing down a criminal begins to feel like apart of you, it consumes all of you and it is all you can ever think about.

This life is a funny thing. The minute you think everything is finally going to be alright, things cannot get any better, everything falls apart.

I had a dream once that she was back home, that she loved us. Then I woke up.

"Finny," he'd said. "It's not easy being Satan, is it?"

If those are the rules we have to follow, we're all going to hell. She left us. My mom, I mean. She's left before but this time I don't think she's coming home. I don't mean to throw my problems at you, or anything. It's just that I'll take help from anyone at this point. It's not only me she left. Elizabeth, too. I guess I should slow down, tell you about myself for a minute. I’m Avery. I wish there were more to me. I wish I could say I was a good guy. I wish I could say I were kind, admirable, talented. I wish I could say I was filled with confidence, with values, with intelligence, with the answers. I’m none of that, I have none of that. I’m 17 and I’ve been fucked since the very beginning. My mom has always been an alcoholic, unreliable, irresponsible. But lately, she’s really been out-doing herself. She actually is a //coke// addict, now. And she leaves from time to time for days, sometimes weeks. I don’t know where or for what, nor do I really care at this point. The only thing there is to me, the only thing that really matters is Elizabeth. Lizzy is my little sister, she’s eight. She is and always will be so much greater than I am. She’s filled with all the love and adoration I could ever ask for. She’s the one person I care for other than myself. It’s kind of unfortunate God left me to raise her. He’s a funny guy, though. I’m sure things are about to get worse. Pretending to be perfect gets old, so I stopped. I plan on carrying my imperfections with me to New Orleans. I’m a New York native. There’s me, my brother Finny, my mother Denise and my father Bruce. We sound alright, don’t we? We sound like the quintessential happy family. We sound like that family that sits together at dinner talking about our days, that family that goes to Aruba for Christmas and spends the day on the beach together, posting pictures of it on facebook. That’s what we sound like. Hell, that’s what we look like. Well, at least we did until I started fucking shit up. I stopped doing my hair, just messy buns these days. Instead of carefully doing my make-up, I just smear on that black eyeliner like crayola, cake on the mascara. I replaced my Ralph Lauren polos and skirts for white beaters and ripped, low slung jeans. I cuss, I drink, I’m not friendly and I’m always high. I definitely look incongruous to the rest of my family, but I’m really not. You see, they’re just as fucked as I am. I mentioned Finny. He’s one year older than I am, seventeen. He’s //that// guy. No, I’m not talking about //that// guy: the guy who has random Tourette Syndrome attacks in class. Or //that// guy: the obnoxiously intelligent one who blurts out //all// of the answers in class when //you// raised //your// hand and //you// clearly knew the answer, and the teacher //clearly// asked //you// to share it with the class, and //that// guy //clearly// saw //that// but decided to say the answer, //anyway//. We all know he has no friends. I guess we’ll give him that one. I’m not even talking about //that// guy: the pasty, slightly overweight one with terrible acne who is cursed in an unthinkable number of ways ranging from very thick bifocal glasses to his mom dressing him. No, I’m not talking about any of //those// guys. Finnie is //that// guy: the guy who has it all. The guy who is abnormally good-looking and also just so happens to be filthy rich. The guy with the black, //perfectly// slicked back hair, those //perfect// teeth, those //perfect//, absolutely //adorable// dimples. The guy with those //deep//, //sultry// brown eyes, those //devilishly// dark and playful eyebrows, that //perfect// body, that //perfect//, somehow //always// tan skin. The guy who’s good at //every// sport, smart in //every// way and loved by all. That guy who can get the //most// gorgeous, perfect, goddess-like girl, and //does// but throws her away because she wasn’t //really// worth that much to him, now was she? That //heartless//, overly //cool// in demeanor but still funny, //absolutely// pompous, //self//-absorbed, //narcissistic// guy. Oh, and let’s not forget about //Denise//. For our purposes, I’ll call her my mother but she’s never really been that. She’s who has made Finny who he is. She’s the original ice queen, the heartless, stone-cold //bitch// my father married and somehow conceived me. She’s the creator of fake smiles, the one who made collagen injected lips, a botoxed face, and double D implants hip, the one who always said to me, “sit up, dear or you’ll develop scoliosis. No one wants to marry the hunchback of Notre Dam.” The one who says she needs a new diet and personal trainer when she’s a size 00, the one who calls her own daughter worthless, a mistake. The one God cursed me with. She’s the one who’s //so// difficult that although she’s practically biologically programmed to love me, she doesn’t. The one who is probably a psychopath and not really capable of real love, anyway. She’s all that. But if someday you //really// want to be //just// like her, master the art of pulling wool over the eyes of all you come in contact with because you’d never guess she’s such a horrible person. Then last but not least there’s Bruce. For our purposes, I’ll call him my father but he’s never really been that. He also made Finny who he is since he used to be //that// guy back in high school but these days he just likes to rape me in the closet while no one is looking. People think having this job is full of glory, of accomplishments. The truth of the matter is, there is more disappointment than satisfaction, more failure than success. The one good thing I've learned from this job is how to appreciate the little things. I don't know what I'm going to do about Elizabeth. She's getting hungry. You see, I dropped out of school a while back and I don't have a job. My mother had acquired a pretty good amount of cash (by doing God knows what) but we're running out. I need to think of a way to feed Elizabeth. New Orleans will be good for us. I realize my family has had its fair share of minor... Okay, //major// speed bumps. But maybe moving here will be good for us, a clean slate. All I want is a bit of harmony, for once. Although we have our problems, I love my family very much and I only want what is best for them. I try to keep up appearances, make sure no one deprecates our name. I'm at my absolute breaking point. With my dad doing what he does, Iliana acting out and my mom getting colder with each passing day, it's getting hard to cover up our problems. I was looking in the mirror this morning and nearly cried. Very light but visible crow's feet, frown lines and three gray hairs (all of which I plucked). I know what my father does is wrong but I can't bring myself to say anything. lliana hates me in a way I can not understand. She hates all of us, when she used to love us so much. It must be because no one says anything. But it's almost as hard for us as it is for her and I don't think she gets that. I want to protect her but I can //not// betray my father. My life lacks control. I'm at the brink. Lizzie looked so precious there. She has to be the smallest eight year old I've ever seen. She lay on our couch motionless except for the tiny rises and falls of her chest. Her hand was beneath her cheek, drool escaping her tiny mouth. I almost didn't want to wake her up but I lightly placed my hand on her shoulder. "Lizzie," I whispered. "Time to get up, sweety." She stirred only slightly and yawned. I waited. She always takes longer than most to get up in the morning. Even in the dim light I could see her open her eyes and look up at me sleepily. "But the sun's not out, Ave," she said through a yawn. I kissed her forehead, pushed back her satin hair. "I know, sweety. But we have to go see Jolie. I can't pay rent anymore." A child once asked me what being blind was like. What did I see? I had to see something, right? I don't know what I see. I don't know what colors look like, so I could never describe it. The child went on to say how sad that was. That the world around us was beautiful. I told him I knew that. There are other ways to experience the world than seeing it through eyes. You can smell the flowers, hear the music, taste the sea breeze. Avery woke me up before the sun rose today. He almost never does this so something must be wrong. He said something about money, something about rent. So, I guess we're going to see Jolie. Jolie is a very kind lady. She used to take care of us when my mother couldn't, or wouldn't. I just don't like the man she works for, Mr. Price. He's very cruel toward her in a way I could never understand. Even with the collagen injected lips, the botoxed face, the the double D implants, I will never be beautiful enough for him. He'll always love Iliana more. I know I'm wrong. But you have to understand, this did not start with me. It was done to me. I know it's not an excuse. I have the power to do right but I can't help it. It's like a hunger. I try to starve myself but I can't go for long without eating, especially when the food is right in front of me. And I'm a lawyer; the irony. Hopefully Jolie can help me take care of Elizabeth. I'm running out of ways to make money, running out of odd jobs. There aren't many options and I feel hopeless. If she can't help... I don't want to even think about what I'll have to do. It was eight o' clock in the morning and I was still in bed when Devin peaked out from behind the bathroom door with a sly smirk. "What? What is it?" I asked, my curiosity getting the best of me. She didn't answer. She only continued to smile. I sat up, eager now. "What?" From behind her back she pulled out what looked like a little white stick at first and then slowly I realized what it was. "I'm pregnant." First it was morning sickness, then it was mood swings, then it was weird cravings. I just knew. It was 6 o' clock in the morning but I rushed to CVS and bought a pregnancy test. I almost sprinted to the bathroom in my excitement. I was so nervous I couldn't even pee. It took me a minute but finally after waiting three minutes, the stick had a little pink plus sign in the middle of it. At first I couldn't breathe. I was completely ecstatic. I didn't know what to do with myself. I could go wake up Carlisle but he wasn't very much of a morning person. So, I washed my hands, made breakfast, cleaned the kitchen (along with the rest of the house because for some odd reason I was cleaning extra speedy today) and finally it was eight o' clock. It was a reasonable time. I tiptoed back to the bathroom, past Carlisle who lay tangled in the sheets of our bed snoring. I scampered over to the windowsill where I left the pregnancy test, wrapped it in my fingers and held it behind my back. I slowly opened the bathroom door and peaked out from behind it. Carlisle stirred slightly then opened his eyes. I couldn't hide my excitement, biting my lip against a smile. His tired eyes suddenly looked far more awake. "What?" he asked sleepily. I couldn't say it. I felt like I was going to burst. I just kept on smiling. He sat up, now. Far more interested and completely awake. A small smile formed on his lips. "What? What is it?" I slowly pulled the pregnancy test from behind my back and held it out in front of me like a kid in kindergarten might hold out a drawing she was proud of. He seemed confused, at first. But slowly he came to realize what it was. Two words escaped my mouth. "I'm pregnant." By the time we left the house, the sun was up and it was around eight o' clock. Avery held my hand as we strolled to the bus stop. His face was tight the whole time. I wanted to ask what was wrong but something told me it wasn't a good time. He seemed to have a lot on his mind, these days. I wish I could help but I don't know how to, mostly because I don't understand. Everything is such a big deal to everyone. When people get to a certain age, they forget to enjoy life. We got onto the bus. The seats were a familiar blue and just as hard and cold as they've always been. A strange white man with a five o' clock shadow and a trench coat sat next to me. He smelled like something bitter and I couldn't quite place my finger on what it was. Whatever it was, it hurt my nose and Avery pulled me a little closer. The bus ride was finally over and I was a little lightheaded from trying to fight the awful stench of that man. Avery's brown hand still gripped mine, the lighter underside of it turning a bit red. He was holding it too tightly and I tugged on him to let him know. It was as if I'd tugged him out of his thoughts and he looked down at me and muttered a quick, barely audible apology. I leaned into him, only a little past his hip. We walked until we were in the good part of town with the big houses and the nice grass. We got to Mr. Price's house, where Jolie worked. She was standing outside, strangely already aware of our arrival. Her frosty eyes shone with a smile. Her yellow, crooked, rotten teeth stood out against her wrinkled black skin. Her smile was the most beautiful I'd ever seen; it was genuine. I rushed up to her and threw my arms around her stomach. She embraced me back saying something in creole I could not understand but it sounded nice. "Hey, sweety. What's going on next door?" I looked over to my right side to see a bright orange Uhaul parked outside the house next door. "A family is moving in next door," I said while still studying them. They looked perfect at first glance but if you looked a little closer, you could see the tension. "Tell me, sweety. What do they look like?" "Well," I said pausing to examine a bit more before forming my response. "There is who I guess is a mother. She's had a lot of... Plastic surgery. It hasn't done her much good... She looks scary. And someone who looks like a father. He's wearing khakis, a white polo, glasses. His face has frown lines. A boy about Avery's age... Very handsome. Very clean... And a girl. She looks... Broken." The broken girl was looking in my direction but not at me. I followed her eyes to Avery who stood holding her gaze. I had almost forgotten about him, he'd been so quiet. Her brother tapped her on her shoulder and she looked away quickly, almost a little embarrassed. Avery looked at the ground, then. Jolie suddenly looked troubled. "What is it?" "There is something very wrong with them." I can't describe it with words. I can't verbalize the feeling. It was like electricity pulsed through me. It was magnetic. I couldn't look away. I was taking in all of her: the dark brown of her hair which was pulled back into a messy bun, strands of curly hair enveloping her face. The electric blue of her heavily made up eyes, her pink, perfectly pouty lips, her vulnerable, exposed neck, her collarbone, her chest, her stomach which was partially exposed under her white beater, her legs, her ankles, her frayed converses. She was perfect. I wanted her. It should have made me uncomfortable, a guy staring at me the way he did. But it didn't. Something about him gave me an electric shock and I couldn't break away from his gaze. I didn't want to. He was absolutely beautiful: he was tall, with a medium build. He was black but maybe half white because his skin wasn't particularly dark and his eyes were green, his hair curly and light brown. He didn't smile while he looked at me. I think he was feeling the same way I was feeling. There isn't a word for it. Whatever this feeling was that he gave me, it made him irresistible. Something weird just happened: Iliana actually looked at this guy like she was... Attracted to him. That's new. She's usually afraid of all male contact and/or attention. I already like it here. I stood for a minute looking up at our new house with my hands on my hips, satisfied. Denise squeezed my shoulder with one of those fake smiles of hers. The excitement, however was genuine. She loved getting new stuff. "Come on in, now," I said. I knew where to go, where everything was, by now. But Elizabeth always loved to make things easier for everyone so gently, she guided me back into the house. I heard Avery's quiet footsteps trailing along behind us. She guided me to the couch and we were all seated. "What's the problem?" Avery took a deep breath. I heard him move around but I don't know exactly what. He wiped off his clammy hands on his pants then ran them over his face. He was too stressed out for a teenage boy. "We're running out of money. We'll be evicted, soon. I can't feed Elizabeth, anymore. Until I find a way to make money I need someone to take care of her." I paused for a moment, thinking. "Elizabeth would you be willing to help take care of Kale?" Elizabeth lit up with excitement. So maternal for an eight year old. Avery chuckled humorlessly. "I guess that's a yes, then," he said. I got up to go talk to Mr. Price about Elizabeth. He hasn't ever minded having her around. He was actually rather kind to her. "Come here, Lizzy," I said beckoning her over. She curled up in my arms, laying her tiny head on my chest. I kissed it. "I'm going away for a while. I don't know for how long but I'll be back. I love you very much okay, Lizzy?" She nodded her head. I could tell she was sad. I wasn't going to look at her face. I could never leave if I did. I stroked her hair one more time then got up, not looking back at her. I went over to a door and knocked on it softly. Jolie looked up and smiled at me sadly. "Thank you so much, Jolie. I promise I'll pay you back one way or another." She just shook her head. "No need." "Here, let me help you with that." Finny took the heavy box from my struggling arms and placed it on a table with ease. He leaned on the table, hands on hips, admiring the new home. "Gorgeous, isn't it?" I shrank back. He was being nicer than usual. "What do you need?" I asked. He shot me a confused glance, eyebrows furrowed. "Nothing." I was confused. He saw it on my face and chuckled. "What? I can't be nice?" "No, I mean you can, it's just weird." He paused for a moment, his face very blank then sauntered over to me and placed his hands on my shoulders. I flinched under his touch then relaxed. I saw the old Finny in his eyes. "Things are going to get better. Just think of this as a fresh start. I love you, Ana." I didn't hear that very often and for a moment I felt myself choking up, about to drown in tears but I fought them back. He pulled me into a hug and I rested my head against his chest. "I love you, too," I whispered, one sly tear escaping and rolling down my cheek silently. It feels good to have her back. I slid into the passenger seat of the black Acura. Frank sat staring blankly out the windshield. I took a good look at the five teardrops tattooed under his eye which was barely visible because his skin was so damn dark. His cornrows were messy and I was about to suggest someone to do them for him but I decided against it, not wanting to lose any fingers or anything because he took it as an insult. "So, you want the job." I nodded my head. Frank pulled out a cigarette then placed it between his lips. "Use your words, Avery," he said through the cigarette. I cleared my throat. "Yeah, I want the job." Frank lit the cigarette, took a drag and relaxed in his seat. "Good." I heard a meow from the back seat and a cat leaped into my lap. "Dude, what the fuck? Why do you have a cat in the car?" "Nigga, that's Dante." "You named your cat Dante?" The skinny, all black cat looked up at me with his yellow eyes affectionately. I wasn't a cat person but Dante was really a character. He purred sweetly and I gave him a pat or two. "Listen, muh-fucka," Frank really killed me with that southern drawl of his. "Stop playing with the god damn cat and get ready for the job."
 * AVERY**
 * ILIANA**
 * BENNETTE**
 * AVERY**
 * FINNIE**
 * AVERY**
 * JOLIE**
 * ELIZABETH**
 * DENISE**
 * BRUCE**
 * AVERY**
 * CARLISLE**
 * DEVIN**
 * ELIZABETH**
 * AVERY**
 * ILIANA**
 * FINNY**
 * BRUCE**
 * JOLIE**
 * ELIZABETH**
 * JOLIE**
 * AVERY**
 * JOLIE**
 * AVERY**
 * ILIANA**
 * FINNY**
 * AVERY**

"Detective?" I looked up from my desk to see Robert staring at me with questioning eyes. His whole body language was questioning, his upper half leaning through my doorway, his left leg behind the doorway, right leg crossed behind left leg, toe of right foot tapping. I beckoned him over with my hand. "Come in," I said. Robert walked over to the chair directly in front of my desk and hesitated before sitting. I put down the newspaper I was reading and placed it aside, gently. "What is it, Robert?"
 * BENNETTE**

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