Read Dollenganger 06 My Sweet Audrina for Free Online Page A

night birds in the trees outside my bedroom window twittered sleepily. The little clock on my night table said twelve o'clock, but it wasn't the real time. I knew he and Momma wouldn't go out at midnight. I heard a boat whistle in the distance, a ship putting out to sea.
"Well," he said at long last, "what have I done this time to wound your fragile ego?"
"You don't have to be nice to Vera one minute and nasty to her the next. And I didn't push Vera down the steps." My voice sounded faltering, and this was certainly not the kind of confident speech that would make anyone believe me.
"I know you didn't push her," he said somewhat impatiently. "You didn't have to tell me you didn't. Audrina, never confess to a crime until you are accused." In the gloomy dimness his dark ebony eyes glittered. He frightened me.
"Your mother and I are going to spend the evening with friends in the city. You don't have to rock in the chair tonight. Just be a good girl and fall into dreamless sleep."
Did he think I could control my dreams? "How old am I, Papa? The rocking chair has never told me that."
He'd left my bed to head for the door, and in the open doorway he paused to glance back at me. The hall gas-lamps shimmered on his thick, dark hair. "You are seven, soon to be eight."
"How soon to be eight?"
"Soon enough." He came back and sat down. "How old do you want to be?" he asked.
"Only as old as I'm supposed to be."
"You'd make a good lawyer, Audrina. You never give me a straight answer."
Neither did he. I was catching his habits. "Papa, tell me again why I can't remember exactly what I did last year, and the year before."
He sighed heavily, as he always did when I asked too many questions. "My sweetheart, how many times do I have to tell you? You are a special kind of girl, with talents so extraordinary that you don't realize the passing of time. You walk alone in your own space."
I already knew that. "I don't like my own space, Papa. It's lonely where I walk. I want to go to school like Vera does. I want to ride on that yellow school bus. I want friends to play with . . . and I can't remember ever having a birthday party."
"Can you remember Vera's birthday parties?" "No."
"That's because we don't celebrate birthdays in this house. It's much healthier to forget about time and live as if there were no clocks and no calendars. That way you never grow old."
His story was so much like Momma's . . . too much. Time did matter, birthdays, too; both mattered more than he said.
He said good night and closed the door, leaving me to lie on my bed and wonder.
One night screams woke me up. My screams. I was sitting up, clawing at the sheet, covering myself up to my chin. In the long corridor I heard the pounding of Papa's bare feet as he came running. On the side of my bed he perched to hold me in his arms, smoothing my tousled hair, hushing my piercing cries, telling me again and again that everything was all right. Nothing could harm me here. Soon I fell asleep, safe in his arms.
Morning light woke me, and Papa was in the doorway smiling broadly, almost as if he'd never left me alone.
"Sunday morning, love, time to rise and shine. Put on your Sunday clothes and we'll be off."
I stared at him, sleepy-eyed and disoriented. Was it only last week that Vera broke her leg? Or was it much, much longer? It was a question I put to Papa.
"Darling, you see what I mean? It's December now. In five days it will be Christmas. Don't tell me you've forgotten."
But I had. Time had such agility when it came to fleeting past me. Oh, God. . . what Vera said about me had to be true. I was vacant headed, forgetful, perhaps brainless.
"Papa," I called out nervously before he closed the door so I could dress for church. "Why do you and Momma let everyone in church believe Vera is your daughter and not Aunt Ellsbeth's?"
"We don't have time for that kind of discussion now, Audrina. Besides, I've told you many times before how your aunt went away for almost two years, and came back