Chapter 1
CHAPTER 1
MACKENZIE
TEN-YEARS-OLD
D arkness used to be my friend. The stars come out at night, comforting me with their glittery brilliance. I sometimes lie in bed and count them until I fall asleep. But all good and pure things, like starlight and childhood, eventually end. My childhood ended a long time ago. Childhood is an untainted, untouched, undarkened place. Because the truth is that, although there is beauty in darkness, although you can reach out and switch on the light anytime you want, it is also a place where wicked monsters lurk, waiting to devour the innocent and snuff out the light.
I pull the covers tighter around me, hoping that if I remain really still and extra quiet, the monster will forget I exist. He’ll finally leave me alone. I’ll be just another little girl, tucked safely into bed.
My heart thuds in my chest, each beat pounding against my ribcage. I imagine a little bird trapped in there, struggling to break free. Like me, it too has no way out.
The raised voices downstairs, the glass shattering, and my mother screaming while choking on sobs send shivers down my spine. I know what happens next. It always starts the same way. Dad goes out to a special place, one I will be allowed to visit when I am ready and Mom entertains Dad’s friends .
Even though Dad wants Mom to be nice to his friends, he gets angry about it. After they shout and make a mess downstairs for the housekeepers to clean up in the morning, Mom retreats to their bedroom, slamming the door, and the rest of the world out. I hear the faint click of the lock on her door. She’s safe.
Then the monster awakens, he lurks in the shadows waiting until the world goes to sleep to come find me.
My door creaks open, and my eyes shut tighter, muttering the prayers I learned at school. But prayers have never helped before, so I know tonight won’t be any different. I try to wish myself invisible, or to disappear, but it always ends the same. The bed dips, and the smell of smoke and whiskey engulfs me. My muscles tense, and my spine goes stiff as his weight presses down on me, making it hard to breathe.
Then I shut my eyes and drift away to another place. The place where bad things don't happen in the dead of night. Where it doesn't hurt to breathe or move. Where little girls don’t cry and have their mouths covered by hands that should protect them. I imagine myself in a beautiful meadow, surrounded by flowers and butterflies, far away from the pain and terror of what is happening. I imagine being safe somewhere, with people who love me unconditionally.
“This is to prepare you, little one. You’ll thank me one day,” he whispers against my ear when he's done, breathing too heavily and hurting me too much, and then he staggers out of my room.
My mother says it’s how future members of the St. Jude’s Guild must prepare themselves. That it’s normal, and that Dad doesn't mean for it to hurt as much as it does. But deep down I know it's not how things should be. Still, I don’t fight back. All I know is that I don’t want to be alone in the dark.
After I’m sure he’s gone, I climb out of bed and do as my mother taught me. I shower, then use my own key to her door to creep in and take one of her pills, the ones that make her forget, she once told me. Maybe it will make me forget as easily as she does.