Illusion
Chapter 1 Maya Rivers
Maya Rivers
I sit back in the trees, watching the dilapidated house of horrors at the bottom of the hill.
It’s still standing despite the years of neglect.
Trash bags cover shattered windows we never had the money to replace and the roof barely has a shingle left in sight.
Tall weeds snake up the loose and broken siding of the exterior walls, threatening to swallow the house whole. It should be condemned.
The broken foundation is resemblant to my broken soul. I was always destined to end up poor, white trash—just like my father. I used to dream of the day I would escape my fate, but dreams are merely illusions generated by a desperate mind.
You can’t dream your way out of your destiny.
Even with hard work, having a father like mine made escaping impossible. If I ran, he would find me. I had nowhere to go, and didn’t want to live on the streets, so I resigned myself to trying to survive by keeping the monster at bay.
Until now…
A warm breeze wraps around me, reminding me of my mother’s warm embrace that always chased my demons away. I close my eyes, bow my head, and slowly inhale the earthy forest scent of the incoming rain.
I quietly whisper a prayer into the wind. “I’m sorry, Mama, there’s no other way out. I can’t live like this.” A stabbing pain slices through my heart. “Please forgive me for what I’ve done and am about to do.” Tears stream down my cheeks.
I’ll see her soon—I hope.
After letting out another small sniffle, I gather myself and choke back my emotions. I refuse to live another minute of fear and sadness. Tonight, I took matters into my own hands. The booming thunder won’t even hide my path of destruction.
The porch light glows faintly the distance. I left as Daddy was starting to wake from his drug and alcohol-induced stupor. Soon, he will reach for his Zippo to light his first cigarette. A smile creeps across my face.
I extinguished the pilot on the stove but left the gas running. Then, I bolted—getting far enough away from the house where I could watch the show. He will not hurt me any longer. I considered staying in the house, but I owe it to myself to watch justice being served.
It’s been several minutes—the gas should have had enough time to fill the house. A sinking feeling settles in my gut, I hope he didn’t go back to sleep. He will still die, but not in the way he deserves.
BOOM!
The sounds ripples through the air, sending shock waves through my body, and knocking me to the ground. My ears ring and I struggle to catch my breath. Dazed, I open my eyes to a magnificent sight.
Flames from the explosion light up the night sky, illuminating everything in their path like daylight bursting through the dawn. A plume of smoke dances around particles of obliterated debris now raining down.
Mission accomplished. There’s no way he survived that blast. He deserved to suffer for all the physical and sexual abuse I’ve suffered at his hands, but sometimes justice has to be served quickly.
May he never rest in peace, but rot in purgatory instead. An eternity in the deepest, darkest pits of hell won’t be enough time for me to forgive him for making my twenty-three years on Earth a living hell, but it’s a start.
The police and first responders will be here shortly. Not that it matters, because tonight, it all ends for me too. I just have to get out of here without being seen.
The only visible light is from the flames and lightning cracking across the sky. It’s ok though, I don’t need much light. I know where I am going. I turn and make a run for the old Whiskey Rivers Bridge.
The path leading there is an old, country dirt road that’s hardly ever traveled. It should be condemned but that doesn’t stop local teenagers from coming here to fish, drink, or get high.
Legend says the bridge is haunted. Some swear on certain nights you can see a man hanging from the bridge, or walking across it with his lantern, trying to lure you in to your own death.
Personally, I think it’s a tale our parents told us to keep us away from the rickety death trap, even though the tales stem from actual historical events.
Pelting rain stings my skin as I run through the trees towards the road. Branches and briars are knives slicing my skin as I pass through thick brush. Let them cut me—let them spill my blood. It doesn’t bother me. This is nothing compared to the pain I’ve felt inside for so many years.
My life is over once I get to the bridge anyway.
My foot slips in the red clay mud, causing me to stumble and fall to my hands and knees. I bow my head, the rain plastering my hair to my face. My lungs are tight and burning with defiance as I try to slow my ragged breaths.
Get up, Maya. Looking up, I let out a tattered sigh of relief when I see the bridge in the distance. Not much farther.
Rivulets of blood drip from my knees. I sway for a few moments, fighting the exhaustion.
I ran two miles through the woods, my body not used to such physical exertion.
The pause is long enough for my brain to become aware of a car’s low rumble in the distance.
I make a break for the bridge, needing to hurry.
My shaky muscles protest as I climb the railing, holding the trusses for balance. If I jump headfirst, my chances of breaking my neck would be good since it’s usually shallow. I look down.
Shit.
The flooded river is flowing rapidly from all the rain. Lightning strikes a tree somewhere off in the distance, the sound reverberating through my ears, causing me to hesitate as a memory flashes into my mind of a stormy night eight years ago…
Thunder shakes the house. I close my eyes, imagining Mama and I in a world far away from here. A place where the sun shines as a promise to a new day that we don’t have to live in fear rather than bringing light to remnants of the nightmares that come alive in the dark.
A loud crashing sound in the distance breaks me from my daydream. Daddy comes running into my room. “Get up! Get your sorry fucking ass up now!” He grabs me tightly by the arm and yanks me out of my bed, causing me to smack my head on the dresser.
He doesn’t give me a chance to put my shoes on as he drags me out the front door. It doesn’t take long for my eyes to focus in on the cause of the crashing noise from a few minutes ago. A single headlight illuminates a path to a car crushed against a tree.
Not just any car—Mama’s car. Fear and panic flood like raging rapids through my veins and my heart constricts in my throat. NO! Please, God, not her! Let her be ok!
Daddy drags me closer… The emergency lights can’t blind me from the horror unfolding in front of my eyes.
Her blood spatters the windshield, there’s no life beyond her closed eyes—she’s gone. My screams pierce the night at the sight of her mangled body crushed between the seat and steering wheel.
Daddy lets go of my arm and rushes to her door. I collapse on my hands and knees on the muddy ground, my world shattering to pieces. Every hope, every dream, my only solace in this chaotic world…just gone in an instant.
She had fallen asleep at the wheel because she was so tired after working her eighth sixteen-hour shift at the hospital.
Mama sacrificed herself day in and day out.
The more money she made and handed him, the happier he was, resulting in less violent outbursts.
She worked herself to death because of him.
For me.
The guilt eats a little more of my soul each day. I forgave her for being too afraid to leave, even if I couldn’t understand. She always said she was afraid of what he would do to me to punish her if he caught us on the run.
Some fates are worse than death. I’m not afraid to die. I stare into the rapids—looking more like a sweet promise than a raging threat. I can’t swim, nor will I try to. I only hope my body is swept away and not recovered until I’m far away from here.
I hesitate slightly, long enough to hear the approaching car rounding the curve. It slams on its brakes, mud spraying through the air as it skids to a stop just before the bridge.
Shit. I’ve been spotted.
A man exits the vehicle, his large frame illuminated by the headlights. It’s not the police. He inches closer, staring dead in my eyes. The rain soaks through his white T-shirt, leaving nothing about his bulky muscles to the imagination.
I’ve never seen him before and judging by his fancy car, he’s definitely lost. Nobody within fifty miles of Whiskey Rivers has that kind of money.
Panic floods through me, I can’t give him a chance to talk me down. Without another thought, I jump headfirst into the rapids, hoping my neck cracks at the bottom.
The icy water is a harsh comparison to the scorching heat we’ve been dealing with all summer. It’s like nails are being driven into my lungs as I inhale under water, desperation clawing at me to hurry up and end this.
I pray for the rapids to swiftly carry me away, but instead I’m slammed headfirst into a rock, knocking me unconscious—into the oblivion, drifting into sweet nothingness.
It’s peaceful here.