Page 6 of Ivy's Venom

“What?” He looks at me bewildered as he pulls his pants back up.

“Get. Out.” I shove his shoulder hard.

“You’re a crazy bitch!” He exclaims as he jumps out of the seat.

“So I’ve been told.” I nod as he slams my car door.

I circle around him once, my tires burning on the bends, and laugh when he tosses me the finger. I didn’t miss the slight smile on his face though as I sped out of the garage.

I drive aimlessly for a while, my emotions running all over the place, and my mind serene despite the chaos. I rely on certain highs to replace my life’s lows and sex is one of those highs. It drives out the shadows that always seem to creep their way back to the front of my mind and I have no one to help me. Nobody knows what happened to me two years ago after my parents shipped me off to a prestigious reform school for the unruly kids of the wealthy elite.

Why was I shipped off to a reformatory school?

Because I killed my best friend-Neil’s younger sister-Charlotte Jones and no matter how many times I’m told it was an accident, I know the difference. My parents even know the difference since they tossed me away to some boarding school in New York and left me in the hands of the devil himself.

The cemetery comes into view and I sigh with relief. It’s like my brain is on autopilot and knows exactly what I need at this moment. I pull in and drive to our family mausoleum. It stands tall and proud, made of white brick, and lined with angel statues. Our family is in there and one in particular that means the world to me, even in death.

I enter and go straight to her plaque, immediately resting my hand against the cool metal. I try to remember her voice, her scent, but it’s been so long and so many tragic things happened after she left.

Laurann Jennifer Talia (Craven), beloved grandmother and great grandmother.

She was the one person that saw what was really inside of me, my struggle with connections, and my need to be alone. She saw my inner turmoil and made sure to show me how much she loved me despite it.

I was an angry child and I can’t really explain why, but she knew it. She told me I had evil that ran in my veins but unlike my ancestors, I could use it for good. She died before she could show me how and two nights later, that evil poured out of my body, stealing my best friend in its grasp.

“Hi Jenna.” She hated being called Grandma. “I miss you. I’m back home now and I’m sorry I didn’t come see you right away.”

I rest my forehead against the plaque, hoping to feel her, and wishing she would show me a sign of hearing me.

“I’m happy to be home but it doesn’t feel like a home.” I can feel the pressure building behind my eyes. “You took away my home when you left and now I can’t seem to find it.”

I feel the tears slip down my cheeks and I try to gather my emotions.

“We all miss you and not one of us has been the same since you left. How do I do what you told me? How do I take a hold of the evil inside of me and make it good?”

I stay for a while longer, waiting for answers, and when I get none I leave with a heavier heart.

"Ember!"

I groan and turn into my pillow.

It's always the same when my dad walks through the door, he screams out for my mother, and she answers with a laugh. Even after all these years, those two love each other like crazy, and it's fucking disgusting. They were high school sweethearts, even went to Precious Blood as well, and then married young when they found out they were having me.

I bet that's when the regret began to set in. Having a kid right out of high school really puts a dent in the college party scene, or when you want to hang out with your friends, and even worse when you're trying to have a date night with a screaming kid on your hip.

On top of all that, I was apparently a tough kid. I didn't listen, I was a bully, and overall I had a bad fucking attitude. My mother likes to remind me that not much has changed and then my dad tries to soften the blow by saying I resemble her in more than just looks.

I don't care.

"Ivy!" He yells out from the bottom of the stairs. "Come tell us about your day."

I can't ignore him for long, he won't allow it, and then it would get Mom started, something I don't want. She may be quiet and stays out of the way, but once she's set off there's no going back.

I grumble to myself as I roll out of bed and leave my room. This room used to belong to my Uncle Emmett when he lived here and I still have a few posters of his on the wall. Hip hop artists from his time, a couple of skateboards, and then there’s a picture of him with my Uncle Travis and Aunt Adri. I apparently chose this bedroom for all of it and cried when Dad offered to take them down.

I head down the stairs and hear my little sister’s laughter. I fight hard to keep the smile off my face at the sound but I lose miserably. Dahlia will always be my weakness because she’s still so innocent and pure. She’s a typical seven year old, full of questions, and unaware of dangers. And she loves me more than anyone ever has.

“Ivy!” She squeals and wiggles herself out of Dad’s lap.

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