Chapter 1
Ophelia – 2004
One week before Halloween.
That rat bastard decided to do all this one week before Halloween.
As for my blonde self, well, I had been none the wiser to anything that was going on.
I thought we were happy.
I thought we had it good.
I thought that I had met the man that I was going to spend the rest of my life with.
What bullshit.
What complete and utter bullshit.
“Come on, Susie Q. Come on,” I chanted as my old beat-up Pontiac Trans Am as it tried to go up this hellacious incline.
“Monnie, who is Susie Q?” My little bundle of a miracle asked from her booster seat.
I glanced in the rearview mirror that was hanging on with a prayer.
In other words, it was duct-taped and zip-tied.
Yep, duct-taped and zip-tied. That was how everything in my life, or what you would call life, was being held together.
But I wasn’t going to let those morose thoughts consume me right now.
My daughter had asked me a question. And I was going to answer her.
“It’s Monnie’s car, pumpkin’ head I named it after my favorite song,” I told her.
She looked confused for a minute, then asked, “What’s your favorite song?”
I smiled, trying to hide the resentment I was feeling at this very moment.
If that rat bastard hadn’t taken my phone, I could play it for her.
If that rat bastard hadn’t slapped divorce papers down in front of me because his boss told him that it wasn’t a good look for the company to have their top Chief Executive with a family.
If that rat bastard hadn’t used that as his scapegoat.
When all he really wanted was to keep on living like he was in his early twenties and not like he was in his mid-thirties.
Why did people say that with age comes wisdom? I call bullshit.
Pure and utter bullshit.
But I digressed, and... we just crested the top of the hill, I let out a breath and then sagged back in my seat when I saw the next hill.
To keep my mind off the trouble that lay ahead, I called out to my daughter, “How about we sing our song?”
She giggled, and then I started, “I don’t want a lot for Christmas. There is just one thing I need...”
We sang the song all the way through. Giggling when I messed up a word and giggling when she said stockings like pockings.
Man, but that little girl was my entire world.
And just as I thought that, I saw the town lights.
Town lights that had me breathing in a sigh.
Seven hours of driving would cause anyone to sigh when they reached their destination.
Thank god.
We drove through what seemed like the main street.
Every store’s front window had decorations for Halloween.
Spiders. Skeletons. Cobweb netting. You named it; they had it.
I kept glancing at the paper that held the directions to the little house I had rented.
It wasn’t easy finding this place.
But after my great aunt had told me a story about this little town near the bayou in Larose.
She had found her true love in this little town and spoke about the mysteries that surrounded it.
Mysteries. Plural.
However, the one that I remembered the most was that if you passed by Granger’s General Store and there was a woman in a long black dress stepping out of the door, the person that is the other half of your soul is within twenty feet of you.
After the hell the men in my life had put me through, I was going to do anything and everything I could to avoid that general store.
I turned left, then right, then left, and left again, and then I saw it.
Or rather, I didn’t see it.
The picture on the website had to be at least a decade old if not more.
But it was a building. A building with four walls and a roof, and it had a fireplace.
Thankfully, there was plenty of wood I could cut to keep us warm.
I guess I owed the other rat bastard who used to be in my life a thank you.
Because for years, I was the one who had to chop wood to keep the house warm if I wanted any semblance of warmth.
I shook my head.
Today was going to be a good day.
I wasn’t going to be criticized about my weight.
I wasn’t going to be put down for having my hair up and not down.
I wasn’t going to be criticized for the amount of sweat I was going to be shedding when I cleaned.
Turning in my seat, I looked at Soraya and said, “Life is what we make it. Right?”
I knew she didn’t comprehend what I was saying, but bless my little girl’s heart.
She nodded, then said, “Long as I have you, Monnie.”
I grinned, then turned back in my seat, took in a big breath, and then I climbed out of the car.
After I got Soraya out and our three bags that the rat bastard allowed us to take, we headed up the cracked driveway and to the rickety front porch steps.
The landlord said that the key would be underneath a flowerpot.
Seeing it, I sat one of the bags down and lifted it.
Grabbing the silver key, I moved to unlock the door.
Once I had it open, I took in a breath, then looked down at Soraya and asked, “Are you ready?”
She nodded.
I pushed open the door and knew, just knew by the sight of cobwebs and dust, this was going to be a lot of work.
And I really couldn’t blame the man.
He had told me that the house had been sitting empty for the longest time.
That was why the rent was cheap.
But I had to make what I had last until I could find a job and get Soraya enrolled in first grade.
Taking another breath, I sat our things down, locked the door back up, loaded up in the car, and found a store that sold cleaning supplies.
Hours later.
Back hurting.
Arms yelling at me.
The main bedroom, the living room, the kitchen, and the living room were clean.
And thanks to a lovely older woman who happened to be our new neighbor, she just so happened to have some old furniture in her barn.
Her husband helped me bring in a couch and two twin bed frames.
I would be heading into town tomorrow to get mattresses and cleaning the rest of the house.
But for now, a pile of blankets and two pillows worked just fine as my daughter’s head was lying in the crook of my arm.
Her little snores filled the room, a little drool trailing down my arm.
With my daughter sleeping peacefully at my side, I allowed myself to follow her into dreamland.
Why. Why in the world did my mother leave? And why in the world did she leave me here with him?
“Bitch, clean this shit up. Why the fuck do you make me do things like this. Why?”
I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t.
Instead, I slowly dropped to my knees and started cleaning up.
Wishing I had the power to use that knife and run it along his throat.
Ridding the world of such nastiness.
Sadly, when I went to sleep tonight, I knew I wouldn’t wake up in a better place.
No, I would still be living in this hell.
There needed to be a law or something that if you ever took your hands to a woman or a child, you deserved to be killed.
And the person who ridded the world of such nastiness should never face the consequences.
I shook my head and kept cleaning up, but apparently, I had spaced out because, in the next instance, I felt a loafer-covered foot connecting to my cheek.
“Monnie, you were dreaming again. It’s okay. It’s okay,” I came to hearing my daughter trying to soothe me.
My six-year-old daughter.
And that was when I broke.
I turned my head on my pillow and cried.
Little hands moved over my face, moving the strands of hair.
My little girl shouldn’t be having to comfort and soothe me.
And that was when I made a vow to myself.
That I would be whatever she needed me to be. And that she would always come first.