Chapter 12
A small smile played at my lips. Sixteen. I didn’t know why, but it had always felt like it would be a monumental birthday. As if the years before this were just playing at being a teenager, but now, I really was one.
Grief hit me hard and fast as I heard my father’s voice in my mind from when I was a little girl. “Sweet sixteen’s a big one. We’re gonna throw you one epic party when that day comes.”
There would be no epic party. No balloons or presents or anything like that. But maybe, just maybe, Mom would be a little kinder to me today.
I slung my backpack over my shoulder and started downstairs. I heard movement in the kitchen. Mom was hunched over the stove, boiling water for oatmeal.
“Morning,” I greeted.
She turned slowly, her eyes bloodshot and unfocused. “Quit yelling.”
I hadn’t. Far from it. I knew now to keep my voice low. Not to make my presence known. To disappear.
“Sorry,” I whispered.
“Get home right after school. You need to clean. This place is disgusting.”
She wasn’t wrong there. But it was a mess of her own making. Hers and Chuck’s. A shiver ran through me at the thought of her boyfriend.
“I can’t.” The words were as soft as I could make them and still be audible.
Heat hit my mom’s face. “What did you say?”
“I can’t. Betsy from the diner is taking me out for ice cream.”
Mom scoffed. “Why the hell would she waste her time doing that?”
My heart cracked a little more. No matter how bad things got with Mom, I always held on to a little piece of hope that things would get better. That somehow, I’d become worthy of her love.
“Because it’s my birthday.”
I wasn’t sure what I expected from my mom once she had that knowledge. Maybe a flicker of guilt? A softening? But there was none of either.
Her body went rigid, as hard as stone. “What?”
“It’s my birthday.”
My mom lunged, grabbing my arm and yanking me hard. My backpack went flying. “Where is it?” she screamed.
She jerked my arm, frantically searching.
“Stop! Where’s what?”
“Don’t lie to me, you little bitch. Where is it?” She kicked out, her foot knocking my legs out from under me.
I hit the linoleum floor with a force that knocked the wind out of me. Pain bloomed across my cheek, and I tasted blood.
My mom tore at my shirt, exposing my back, and then she shrieked. “You’re not special. You’re nothing!”
The world spun around me, but I could just make out my mom reaching for the pot of boiling water. She dumped it on my exposed back.
I screamed. Screamed with everything I had in me. The pain spread through me like wildfire.
“You’re of the Devil! I’ll burn it out of you!” She pressed the metal pot into my back.
Blessed darkness took me then.
I jerked upright, sweat coating my skin, as I struggled to suck in a breath. It had been a while since I’d had one of these nightmares. Since the terror had gotten a hold of me in such an intense way.
It made sense that it would come on now. Change shook loose the things you locked away.
The thick comforter that had felt so luxurious when I’d crawled into bed now felt stifling. Like a heated straitjacket. Throwing back the covers, I swung my legs over the side of the bed and sat up.
Briar let out a sleepy meow.
I scratched behind her ear. “I’m okay.”
But I wasn’t. My hand trembled as I stroked her. I needed air. To remember that I was free.
I pushed to my feet and crossed to the doors. My hand hovered over the handle, still shaking. I didn’t want to run into anyone. But it was still dark. I had to hope everyone else would be fast asleep.
Before I could second-guess myself, I pulled open the door. Stepping into the hallway, I waited. My ears strained for any signs of movement. There was nothing.
My bare feet padded along the smooth wood floor as I made my way to the stairs. I paused again, listening. Still nothing.
I hurried down the stairs before I could change my mind.
But then I had no idea where I was going.
Deciding to head in the opposite direction of the front door, I meandered through an immaculate living room and then some sort of conservatory with endless windows.
Finally, my eyes locked on a set of doors.
I reached for one, only to find it locked. My fingers felt around in the darkness, and I finally found the latch. Unlocking it, I stepped outside.
The cold night air was a balm to my skin. Those nightmares made me feel like I was burning alive all over again, and it took hours to put out the flames.
I walked out onto a stone patio. The moon lit enough of my surroundings that I could take it all in. Elaborate gardens on either side of me, an artful stone patio, and an enormous pool. But it was the view beyond it that had me moving forward.
Beyond the immaculate grass lay a rocky shore and past that, a sea of dark, swirling water. Something about that ocean called to me. It was as if it were so similar to the darkness that lived in me. It was comforting somehow.
My feet sank into the damp grass as I headed toward the rocks. Closer and closer to that swirling darkness.
I clambered up a boulder and sat. The colder surface of the rock helped that burning in my skin even more. I breathed deep, closing my eyes. I was safe. I chanted it over and over in my mind as the salt air filled my lungs. She couldn’t hurt me anymore. I was free.
A harsh voice cut through the silence, through my peace. “What the hell do you think you’re doing out here?”