Chapter 11

School was canceled the next day, following the discovery of Darren's dead body. I was already awake when Dahlia came into my room to let me know, and I remained in bed, staring at the ceiling for longer than I thought I did. I couldn't erase Avery's face from my mind and I couldn't help but worry that she told someone what happened. Though I trusted her, it was hard for me to imagine an outcome where she didn't end up spilling the beans. In the quiet, I sat up in my bed, staring at my hands. They looked just the same as they were---there was no way you could tell that they'd been ripped apart and then put back together. I slowly opened and closed my fingers, looking for something different. Some imperfection. Something that seemed off, but there was nothing. And that was the thing that felt off. Knowing what really lied underneath my own skin and staring at an unassuming mask that hid everything did not sit right with me. The absence of an uncanny valley was the uncanny valley.

I stood up, stretching my body in every way I thought to. Everything was in its place. I was me. And with that, I figured it was time to pay a visit to Avery's house. I pulled on a pair of black ripped jeans and wore a black hoodie over a long sleeved AC/DC shirt. All of the band shirts I owned were shirts that Jared once bought for me. I never listened to a single one of those bands, and the record player sitting on my bookshelf was left untouched. The record I'd bought the day I'd gone to the music store with Hannah had remained unplayed. It was still sitting in the bag with the receipt atop my dresser. And while I considered listening to it, I couldn't without thinking about Hannah, only stirring feelings I preferred to ignore. I grabbed my coat and walked downstairs. The house was quiet, the only sound was the news playing on the television in the living room. It didn't surprise me all that much. The circumstances were far too dreary for a bright morning with Dahlia cooking pancakes and Daisy going to watch cartoons. I left without saying anything, and walked out into the cold air. When police cruisers drove by, I held back my inclination to jump out of sight. No one was suspecting me, I had to tell myself---as far as they knew, I was just another teenager. Harmless. Innocent. But no matter how much I told myself this, it always felt like they were watching me.

Standing on Avery's front doorstep, I almost considered turning around and just walking away. My head hung in defeat as I forced myself to deliver three heavy knocks on her front door. It took a few minutes before the door swung open and Avery stood on the other side. A blanket covered in colorful southwestern patterns was wrapped around her shoulders and she wore loose gray sweatpants. Her dark hair was tied up behind her head and she met me with eyes that had not seen any rest the previous night. She let out a long sigh and turned back into her house with a muttered, hoarse "Come in." I walked in and shut the door behind me. Before I could say anything, she continued, "I'll let you in my room, just...be quiet. I don't want to wake up my dad. He likes to sleep through the morning."

"Yeah, sure."

She watched me for another moment before leading me through her house. The front room was the living room and branched off into a straight hallway. In the middle of the hallway, a metal cross hung on the wall, casting an imposing shadow across the corridor. At the end of the hallway there were two doors. One directly ahead, and one off to the left. The one directly ahead was closed, and the one on the left was the room that Avery led me into. She closed the door as we walked inside. Her bedroom was smaller than mine: her bed sat horizontally against the wall, with the head on the opposite corner from the door. A wide window was above her bed, covered with white sheer curtains. Her bed sheets were white with light purple patterns across it, the pillows following the same color scheme. Beside the head of her bed was a dresser with stacks of books on top of it. She sat down on the floor next to her bed where an acoustic guitar lay alongside an opened spiral notebook.

I took off my coat and sat down next to Avery. She held the blanket tightly around her arms and shoulders and let out a slow, even sigh. She looked at me expectantly. "So what's your explanation?"

"Well...where do you want me to start?"

"Hannah's death."

I explained everything to Avery. Starting from the events leading up to Hannah's death all the way to then, just after Darren's death. I could tell how hard she was trying to hold back an emotional outburst, but she managed to keep her face unmoving until I reached the end of my story, and I finished talking, she was silent for a moment, before her gaze fell away from me.

"I know what I saw was real," she said, more to herself than to me. She reached out and wrapped her hand around mine. "You did have claws. Your arms were covered in feathers. Your skin looked like it was falling off...but...You look just like your normal self now. I thought it was a bad dream. That I could wake up from it. That you weren't actually a monster." She let go of my hand. "But it was real."

I nodded. "Yeah, I have a hard time believing it myself."

Avery looked back up at me. "You're so calm about this. You killed and ate two people and you're so relaxed. How can you be?"

"I have to be. If I think too much about it, if I worry about the morals...then I'll starve to death." I pulled a hand through my messy hair, glancing off to the side. "Besides, you can't tell me that Darren didn't deserve it."

Her expression changed from a look of horror, to disbelief, to sadness, before gradually falling to understanding. She looked at the ground and knitted her fingers together tightly. "I was about to yell at you for saying that, but I can't blame you. Even I was---I was relieved when Hannah died. I cared more about you than I cared about her death. You weren't there, but she was just horrible. So intrusive and judgmental...I was happy to be rid of her, and I felt so guilty for thinking that." She took in a shaky breath and shook her head slowly. "I know that Darren was horrible to you. He probably deserved it. It's just so...it's so different when you're the one doing the killing. It would be easier if he died in an accident or by his own means. It's just...I don't know."

"Yeah, I get it. I get what you mean. I can't really let that sort of stuff matter to me anymore, though." I leaned against her bed. "I guess what I really want to know is...will you still be my friend? Will you keep this all a secret, for my sake?"

Avery pulled her knees up to her chest and pursed her lips thoughtfully. She crossed her arms still covered with the blanket over her knees and started into space. And for a moment, I feared the worst. If she did report everything she knew, maybe some people would think she's crazy. But still, my involvement at all would mean that I couldn't stick around. I would have to leave everything behind and run, which was an idea I still resented. With Avery around, I wasn't alone. I had something to lose. I even felt like a stranger within a family of people whose entire personalities were cardboard cutouts. With Avery, it was different. It felt like she understood me. It felt like she actually meant something.

After what felt like an eternity, Avery took in a steady inhale. "Yes, I will still be your friend. And yes, I will keep it a secret."

I sighed with relief, tears pricking the edges of my eyes. "Thank you, Avery. Thank you so much." I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her into an embrace. I was on the verge of crying, which I wasn't afraid to admit this time. She wrapped her arms around me in return, and buried her face in my shoulder.

"Don't thank me." She sniffled, and I knew she was crying too. "The right thing to do would be to turn you in to the police. But you don't deserve that. You're...you're my best friend."

"Well...thank you for doing the wrong thing."

A laugh escaped her throat. "Just don't ask me to kill anyone."

We remained there, hugging one another for another few minutes before we finally released our grip on one another. I smiled at her as I wiped my eyes, and she did the same. I relaxed against the bed and looked up at the ceiling. It felt as though a massive weight had been lifted from my chest. I didn't have to bear this alone anymore.

I turned to look at Avery. "Can I ask you a question?" I found myself saying.

"Sure, what do you want to ask?"

"How did you get the scars on your arms?"

She instinctively covered her exposed arms with the blanket around her shoulders and looked away. "Oh, right. That." Loose locks of her hair hung down in front of her face. "I guess it's only fair, right?" She paused again, biting down on her bottom lip. "Schools in Manhattan aren't exactly filled with the friendliest people. I was bullied a lot in junior high... It didn't help that Mom was an alcoholic too. I started hating myself. So when I got the chance, I hid in the bathroom with a kitchen knife and made deep cuts all along my arms. It was distracting, and at the time I thought I was punishing myself." She unraveled the blanket and looked over her scored forearms. The scars were thin and jagged, stretching across the inside of her forearms. "My dad found out and hid all the knives. I was sent to see a shrink until the end of junior high. I'm happy to say that I haven't cut myself in years, but the only thing here is the scars, and it's still so hard to deal with. I always get reminded of painful memories and I hate it when people see them." She let out a long, shaking exhale.

I tilted my head slightly. "Well I don't think your scars are so bad."

Avery's lips trembled, as though she were about to smile. "Really?"

"Um, yeah. I think scars can look cool. Plus, it's part of your story. The Avery Tale, even. They don't have to be so horrible. They're just another part of you." I gently lifted a lock of hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear so that I could see her eyes.

She smiled slightly. "Thanks. That's...that's really nice to hear. I just wish I had the confidence to wear short sleeves in the summer."

"You'll get there."

She breathed deep and then let out a long sigh, shaking herself out. "Anyway, enough of all of this depressing shit." She stood up, letting the blanket fall to the floor behind her. She pulled on a knitted sweater and grabbed a cassette player off of her dresser. After grabbing a couple of tapes, she sat back down next to me. "You ever listen to the Pixies?"