Chapter 7: The Living Dead
It took them less than an hour to completely clear out my old home, but that didn't surprise me; it wasn't like we had a lot to begin with. In less time than I thought, I was sitting at the kitchen table in the bear's house with Marie hovering over me.
The voices were strangely silent, but that was fine. I was lost in my head enough that I wouldn't really be paying attention to them anyway.
But more than the disappearance of the voices, what I was really wondering was just where my stepbrothers were. It wasn't like they could just up and vanish, so why were they no longer in the house?
"Here, have a cup of sweet tea. We're in the south; you can't have a conversation without a cup of tea," murmured Marie, her motherly vibe making me want to burst out crying. She smelled like cookies, that warm vanilla scent that immediately made you feel at home, even if your home never baked cookies.
I jumped slightly as her hand rubbed my upper arm, trying to avoid my staples as best she could. I didn't feel bad about her black eyes; I didn't pity her for it. She and I were the same in that regard. We didn't do anything to deserve the hand we had been dealt, but we were living the best we could, regardless of the men in our lives.
Besides, she had a black eye; I looked like the bride of Frankenstein with my patchwork of skin and staples. It wasn't like I was in a position to pity her.
"Merci," I murmured, gently folding my hands around the ice cold glass. I could feel the condensation under my palms, and for a second, I wished it were a hot tea instead. At least that would have been able to get rid of the chill I had inside of me.
Slowly, I raised it to my lips and took a sip. "Where is the bear?" I asked softly, placing the cup on the table again.
"The bear?" repeated Marie, and I could hear the confusion in her voice.