Didi
Isaw a man in a mask two seconds before he lit the match that burned down Smith Hall. I don’t know if anyone else saw him, but I did. I was looking, waiting among the crowd, watching him as I have all semester.
The way he moved gave him away. Despite the mask, I knew it was Tommy, not Remy.
After living in the shadows of this town for months—hiding, waiting, praying—I now understand the importance of this mask.
The Order of the Shadows is the source of it all. The deaths, secrets, and horrors. They are Shadowface. They were behind everything…until me.
Yesterday, while in class, Tommy and I locked eyes before the flames erupted between us, and then all hell broke loose. In that moment between fire and smoke, it looked like he saw a ghost. I smile despite myself…because technically, he did.
No one’s uttered the word arson, but everyone is on edge as the police investigate it. No one died yesterday, but many are in the hospital, fighting for their lives.
After I faked my death, I watched. Marty helped me stay alive, bringing me food, turning a blind eye when Mrs. Holly would complain to him that food and money were going missing.
Rumors were flying around that I killed myself after killing Father Malcolm, so she never suspected me.
They believed Mama fled town due to shame.
The Order of the Shadows made my lies easier, since Father Malcolm’s body was never found and I became nothing more than a distant memory.
Marty told me that the Order of the Shadows can make people disappear, and that’s what they did to me.
They created a false narrative the town was too eager to believe.
It’s easier than believing what’s happening right in front of them.
Using a fake name and money I stole from Mrs. Holly, I eventually enrolled in the open studies program at Kinsmen University. It was always a dream to finish school, and I’ll be damned if I let them stop me.
“Blink, Rose,” my friend Tina says as we get ready to go out to the town fundraiser. I met Tina at the beginning of the semester in psychology class. “We need to get this mascara on you to cover up your lashes.”
We are in her dorm room, where she lets me crash sometimes when her roommate is out of town. Which is much better than the slaughterhouse I live in with Mama’s corpse tainting my water. Plus, it’s on campus where I seem normal.
Tina’s taking me out to Rollerland tonight. Everyone’s going, including Tommy, Remy, Talia, and Bax because they’re pretending to raise money for the fire.
Tina continues fussing with my hair and makeup, frowning as she helps me put on heavy eyeliner and mascara. She adds some sparkles under my eyes to give my face more color, too.
“Okay, now you can look.”
I steal a glimpse of the beaded mirror hanging on her door. It’s amazing how simple makeup and a wig can make me look normal, allowing me to hide in plain sight. The wig, of course, Tina has no idea I wear.
Six months have gone by since I died in that well.
After Marty left, I crouched behind the itchy scarecrow, I was paralyzed with fear as three men in polyester suits arrived and discovered Father Malcolm lying in his own blood.
The men took Father Malcolm’s body and then wiped the room clean.
All that blood, and not a drop was left.
A few minutes later, I watched in horror as the boys I thought I loved arrived with hoods over their faces and threw dirt on the rest of Mama’s body, believing it was me.
Marty and I covered her up enough to convince them, and they never bothered to dig me up to check, not before they filled that well to the brim.
I witnessed something sacred that night, as others gathered in a perfect circle over my body. Their father recited words that resembled prayers but weren’t like any prayers I’ve ever heard.
After they left, I stayed hidden in that house for three months before I ventured out. Marty, my sole source of life.
“Hold on,” Tina says, pulling me from my thoughts. “You need a touch more blush.” She grabs her big brush and powders my cheeks. I smile as the brush tickles my face.
She looks at me, pursing her lips, still holding my chin. “There. All fixed.”
I dart my eyes back to the beaded mirror and pretend that the girl staring back in the mirror isn’t a stone-cold killer.
Tina stares at me and frowns as she moves to stand behind me in the mirror. Her hair is already curled in lush waves, flowing along her slender shoulders.
“You’re so pretty, Rose. What I wouldn’t give to have your eyes.”
I run my hands over my wig, adjusting it, my stomach knotting. “Thank you.” No amount of makeup or dark wigs can truly hide me. They will soon notice if they look close enough.
Tommy walked by me on campus a couple of times, but I kept my head down as I passed him, and he never noticed. That night didn’t change him. He’s the same track star, has the same friends, he still hums to himself, and still pouts whenever he doesn’t get his way.
It’s amazing how he can just move on, like I didn’t exist.
I slip into the clothes Tina laid out for me—a tight pair of bell-bottom jeans and a puffy blouse that shows my stomach.
I twirl around to see it from all angles.
I’m so in love with this outfit, I could scream.
Mama would hate my makeup and these tight jeans if she saw me. But Mama’s not here anymore.
“Girl, you look hot in those jeans,” Tina says as she primps herself, putting on some lip gloss and fluffing her curls to the point they don’t even move because of how much hairspray she used. “You’re definitely going to catch the fellas’ attention.”
I pause and stare at her in the mirror.
Catch attention… Is that what I want? Am I ready?
“Do you think it’s safe to go out tonight?” I ask her. “With everything that happened yesterday?”
I was in Smith Hall. I lived through the same nightmare as everyone else in that burning room. Each of us clawing our way through the doorway, desperate to survive.
She sighs. “I don’t know, honestly. Have you heard the stories about them yet?”
The hairs on my neck stand on end, and my stomach burns as it does every time I think about them. The extent of the evil embedded in this town that happens right under their noses.
Their golden boys.
I shrug, pressing my lips tight. “No, not really.” Even though I’ve been listening carefully to any rumors about the Order. Everyone is constantly whispering about them. Ever since Talia came back, they haven’t been careful. It’s like they want to get caught.
She crosses her arms and pulls out a menthol cigarette, cupping her hands and lighting it. “They cause a lot of ruckus on campus. They crash parties wearing those creepy masks and leave symbols on the quad. Pathetic really.”
I blink at her a couple of times. “What’s the point of them? What are they trying to achieve by burning a building down?”
She fixes one of her fake silver eyelashes. “No one knows. But that’s not half of it. I heard they kill people. Like, sacrificial lamb type stuff.”
My eyes shoot up.
“Just rumors. No one’s died yet.”
Yeah, they have.
I remember the moment Mama passed into death and the faint sound of the wind blowing against the switch grass in the days that followed while I was alone in that house.
“Rose, are you okay? You look…paler than usual.” Tina eyes me curiously.
Taking a deep breath, I turn to face her. “I come from a religious town, Tina. I don’t like hearing about symbols of death.”
She runs her hands over my shoulders. A soft, gentle touch.
“Don’t worry about it. They are just some stupid frat. You should come check out a real frat party. The Sigmas are so nice—they love Jesus and do so much good for the community. You’ll fit right in.”
Spiders crawl through my stomach. “Yeah, maybe I will.”
“Don’t run into the woods, like those girls in the movies, and you’ll be fine.” She grins like this is all an elaborate prank.
A burning sensation suddenly flows through me…my serpent festering inside me as Tina’s eyes drift to the cross I still wear as I play with it between my fingers. Clinging to it like it’s a lifeline.
I’m not sure why I still wear it; I lost my faith the day I killed Mama. After I could no longer sense God in my soul. But it reminds me of who I used to be. No one is safe from evil, regardless of their beliefs.
Tina didn’t see the mask yesterday…or the eyes lurking beneath, and she hasn’t seen the real me, either. I am their sacrifice.