Caged in Darkness

by J. D. Stroube

  I wondered what the house would look like now. As far as I knew, it hadn’t been touched since the night my parents’ lives were extinguished. Would my cage be there? Would it stand erect, surrounded by tacky wallpaper and grime coated windows. Or had Maye have removed it already?

  I wasn’t sure I could face the memories that home carried. They would echo through the barren existence of that house. I knew from experience a home like that bled a soul of all happiness. I wasn’t certain I could retain that place again without succumbing to the imprinted memories my parents had left me with. Would the taint spread? Could I infect others with their remembered evil?

  “And I thought we could buy some tissue paper, cover it in mud, and use it as belts to whip all the boys into shape with.”

  “Huh? What about tissue paper and whipping?” Willow snickered softly, while Izzy stared me down with her parental, “don’t mess with me” face. She was testing to see if I was listening and I failed.

  LIAM

  My coven was congregated in an overly large barn that my mother designated for our rituals. Ordinarily, my afternoons were spent being home schooled in both the traditional and witch ways. However, today as the High Priestess of the Sacred Moon coven, my mother called a meeting.

  It was rare for us to convene for reasons other than rituals. Since, we didn’t have a ritual scheduled for today, they were puzzled and worried. We hadn’t set up for the amount of witches attending this gathering. I sat to the side on a barrel of hay, which was the only type of seating available. I had no desire to mingle with the others.

  As the son of the High Priestess, I was frequently plagued by women in the coven, who wanted to exploit my connection to my mother. I wasn’t interested in a serious relationship and if I showed interest in a member of the coven I would be expected to commit. I chose to only see non-witches because those relationships came with no strings attached. Luckily, the human population was overrun with sexually frustrated women, who considered me the bad boy type. I never wanted for company, and I did not need the complications of the type of company I would find here tonight.

  My mother, Diamante climbed the stairs to the stage at the back. She commanded their obedience without saying or doing anything. They simply quieted at the sight of her.

  “I’m glad to see you’re all here. We need to address an issue and it cannot wait since there is limited time to court her. The child of Irena and Devon Cross, is about to ascend.” Diamante paused for the coven to react, and proceeded. “I know you must be surprised, because I have kept their child a secret all these years. However, I did not wish another coven to learn about her existence and stake a claim on her. Unfortunately, it has come to my attention that another has.”

  The assembly of people began murmuring, a sign that my mother’s capabilities were being doubted. As the High Priestess, she was expected to uphold our coven’s best interest. A witch with Cross blood in her veins could have brought an obscene level of power to our collective.

  Bored, I began inching away from the wall to leave the room. I wasn’t interested in politics or my mother’s plotting. I was almost entirely through the exit, when I heard my mother say my name.

  “Liam has agreed to help us fix this issue.”

  Hearing shouts that questioned how I could possibly help; I couldn’t help wondering the same thing. I thought back to the past few days and… nope. I did not suffer an injury that would cause memory loss or poor judgment, and that was the only way I could be expected to help my mother with anything. I wondered how she expected to ensure my cooperation.

  “The Cross girl is an adolescent, which means she is likely to be guided by her hormones and nothing more. Girls at that age don’t care about anything other than themselves and boys. This is how we can be certain she will choose us for her initiation. Liam will seduce her into falling in love with him, and when she does, she won’t dare choose another coven for fear of losing him.”

  Oh, God. My blood began to rush, while a roaring began in my ears. I saw black, as I ground my teeth and induced a migraine. My mother expected me to pimp myself out to a teenage witch, who had mostly likely been a pampered little princess from the day she was born. The Cross family was one of the highest lineages in the paranormal community. Famous, Rich, and Royalty; meant that she would probably be a spoiled, opinionated ditz, with no idea what the real world was like. I couldn’t believe my mother expected me to seduce that.

  After the coven dissipated, my mother found me in her suite. The floor was evidence of my continued pacing, while waiting for her to finish with the coven.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I asked. “Offering my help to the coven, without even speaking to me about it?”

  “What’s the matter? At least we will finally put your womanizing talent to good use.” Diamante challenged. She sat at her vanity and pulled her black hair down to brush, while looking at me in the mirror.

  “I only date non-witches. There is no way I am helping you with this scheme. You want me to seduce a 16 year old? Are you crazy?” I crossed my arms and leaned against the post of her four poster bed.

  Diamante pursed her lips. “I have understood your rebellion. I haven’t asked for you to take responsibility, as my son. I’ve let you do what you want, when you have wanted, but this is enough. You will do this for me. It’s for the best of the coven, which means it is for your own good.” She spun in her seat to face me.

  I studied her face, taking special note of the anger in her eyes. She didn’t permit members of the coven to question or refuse her. I was the only one who dared, and as her only son she allowed me some leniency.

  “It won’t work. I seduce, but I don’t romance. I wouldn’t know the first thing about making a girl fall in love with me. You should get someone else to do it.”

  “I trust you to do it.” She stood, and walked over to grasp my hands. “You’re my son. The others would view it as an insult, were I to ask anyone other than you. Besides your seduction methods tend to convince women that they are in love with you, rather than recognizing their feelings as lust. We just need her to believe she is in love with you, long enough for her to take her vows.” She took my chin in a painful grip and forced me to look at her. “You will do this, or never ask for anything from me again.”

  I couldn’t look away. I knew when I was dealing with my mother and when I was dealing with my High Priestess. Right now, she was not my mother and I could not refuse my Priestess.

  “Of course I will do ask you ask.” I bowed my head in defeat, and she smiled. She was my mother again.

  “Make sure you ask the cook to make you something to eat before you leave. Too much junk food isn’t good for you.” She turned her cheek for me to kiss.

  I walked away feeling that my will had been stolen.

  Savannah

  Later that afternoon, Izzy surprised me by taking us to the strip in Landing, rather than the mall. She must have been taking pity on us, because normally she would jump at the chance to subject us to a day of endless shopping at the mall.

  Izzy parents had gifted her with a beat up rust colored Pontiac for her 16th birthday. The air conditioning didn’t work, but the stereo did and Izzy thought that made the car a dream. It didn’t matter that the Pontiac had seen more birthdays than she or that it was a gas guzzler, as long as she could listen to music she was happy. On the other hand, Willow and I were miserable. By the time we pulled up to the strip, we were anxious to begin shopping if it meant relief from the heavy metal beating away at our ears.

  Izzy led us towards a store called “The Gothic Tea Party”, which I considered an oxymoron, but made sense once entering the store. I gazed around at the strange assortment of clothing. The store was filled with clothes that merged designer with classic gothic and punk. I’ve heard Izzy wax on about this store ever since it opened six months ago, but I didn’t really believe anything she had said.

  I was surprised to find that the mirage of apparel appeal
ed to my inner fashionista or at least the tiny part of me that wanted to wear beautiful dresses. It was strange that it took gothic meeting couture to make shopping fun. Next to me, Willow gazed around her in surprise. She met my eyes and we both looked to see Izzy beaming at us.

  Izzy was in her element as she buzzed around the store, collecting dresses in an array of colors featuring mostly black, burgundy, and silver. Occasionally, she would walk up to Willow or me to hold a dress against us to see if it was flattering. During these examinations, she would purse her lips and nod as though having a conversation with her mental fashion twin.

  Willow and I walked around absently, occasionally trailing our fingers against an outfit here and there. The night before Maye had given me enough money to purchase a small wardrobe, knowing that I rarely wanted to go shopping. Maye took advantage of the occasion and made me promise to buy more than just a single dress. I guess that meant I was turning Goth couture. I wondered what Maye would think of my odd choice in clothing.

  Willow paused suddenly and effectively brought me to a stop when I nearly tripped over her.

  “She’s never going to let us live this down, you know.” Willow whispered, nodding in Izzy’s direction. “Maybe we should at least pretend that this is torture.”

  I snickered. “She’ll never buy it. Besides if we do that, we can never come back or she would suspect.” I shrugged. “Did your dad give you enough money to afford this place?”

  I knew that Willow’s parents didn’t have a lot of money; a fact that she was embarrassed about with anyone other than me.

  “I think so. I’ll just make sure I pick something that I can afford. If I have to, I’ll wear something I already own.” When I started to offer to cover the difference, Willow covered my mouth with her hand. “No. I do not accept charity. Do not even think of offering what I know you were about to offer. It’s too tempting and would just make me feel guilty later.”

  “Fine, suit yourself, but if you end up with an outfit you hate because it was the only thing you could afford, don’t take it out on me.” I stuck my tongue out at her before signaling a sales lady.

  A slightly irritable sales woman escorted us to changing rooms. Izzy perched against the room across from mine and delivered the expected exclamations of pleasure at seeing each of us in a wide range of gothic clothing.

  While in the dressing room, I examined myself in the assorted outfits. Usually, I avoided mirrors. When I first came to live with Maye and saw my skeleton frame, I decided it was pointless to assess my image. When I bought my clothes, it was usually at Goodwill, thrift stores or garage sales. Those places did not come equipped with a dressing room.

  I wore a long black skirt that hung to my ankles and had a slit on my right leg that reached the highest point of my thigh. The waist of the skirt ended in a V shape beneath my naval. The top matched the skirts style perfectly. Its sleeves hung off my shoulder like drapes that layered down my bicep. My midriff was barred to an inch beneath my breasts.

  I knew I had matured over the years but was surprised to see a perfect hourglass figure with a strong flat belly. My black hair hung in natural waves around my face and fell to the middle of my back. The light brought out my natural blue highlights. My eyes were captivating. The violet surrounding the iris was the same, but the silver was more prominent. I was surprised to see that my features complimented one another.

  My beauty had been passed to me from my mother. I was almost sixteen and never compared my physique to hers, but I could see the similarities. Ordinarily, I would contain my mass amount of hair in a butterfly claw or ponytail. It was rare for my hair to be loose, and even rarer for me to wear clothing that showed my body to its advantage. I wanted to be attractive, but I wasn’t sure it was worth the cost if the coven began to associate me with my parents.

  Would Maye love me less if she saw my mother looking back at her? Would Ash think less of me if I began dressing like every other teenage girl? Would Willow be disappointed that I had succumbed to the teenage stereotype my worth is judged by my beauty? Would I think differently of myself?

  I promised Izzy I would buy a dress to wear to the bonfire and I promised Maye that I would buy a flattering wardrobe. One of my many rules is to always keep a promise, which means that regardless of the answers to my questions; I would buy the clothes and would ignore the consequences until they presented themselves. I gazed in the mirror a final time, and realized that I would never be comfortable showing my midriff.

  When the three of us left the store we carried more bags than I would have thought possible. Willow fell in love with an outfit that was slightly out of her price range. She allowed me to pay for the difference as an early birthday present, since I usually spent more on her anyhow. She reasoned that this way I was actually spending less money on her. I bought more clothes than I owned in my entire life, and Izzy bought the right to tease us incessantly for the rest of our lives. Not surprisingly, Izzy was the happiest.

  Izzy paced ahead to unlock the car, while Willow and I were weighted down with bags that hindered our pace. My neck began to tingle, and a cold draft of air trailed down the curve of my spine. Hair flew into my face with an invisible force and I began to sway dizzily. I had the intense feeling that I was being watched. Not just that someone was staring at me; it was as though someone were invading my body. I shook the feeling away and sped towards the car.

  “S, are you okay?”

  I came to the front passenger side door and lowered my hair so that it covered my face. There was no one watching that I could see.

  “Savannah?” Willow pushed against my shoulder, and I shook my hair behind my shoulders to face her. Her brows were furrowed in concern.

  “I’m fine. I just thought I saw someone I recognized.” I attempted a fake smile and slipped into the car.

  5: Hidden for a reason

  Fifth Entry: Day Terrors

  Shopping had been more enjoyable than expected, but I wasn’t fooling myself that I would enjoy tomorrow. Part of me resented Maye for putting me in a position that I would need to go back to my parents’ house. However, she had given me so much that I knew I would find the courage.

  Savannah

  Izzy dropped me home after a quick dinner and I immediately took to my room. I could hear sounds coming from Ash’s room, but his door was shut. Not wanting to disturb him, I choose to closet myself in my bedroom.

  My bedroom was fairly bland for a teenage girl. I didn’t see the point to decorating a room that was literally just a cube I slept in. The headboard of my twin size bed rested against the far wall. A nightstand stood to the left side of the bed with a small lamp and alarm clock on top. A dresser hid behind an overly large bookcase overflowing with books. To the right of my bed was a small walk in closet that was mostly empty. On the opposite side of the room was a large bay window that opened up onto a miniature terrace. Not surprisingly, the terrace was my favorite spot and housed some patio furniture and a tiny space heater for brisk nights

  Maye and Ash thought that my room represented my need to remain apart from the family and they altered it slightly to make it seem more lived in. The picture frames of my friends and family were placed on my dresser by Ash and the flowery quilt with matching drapes had been Maye’s addition. I came home one day from a hike through the woods to find the surprises in my room. Each time I saw their personal touches; I couldn’t help but think that they were symbols of love and the only items I cherished.

  My bedspread was twisted, as I moved to the Carrie Underwood song on my MP3 player. I was lying on my belly, attempting to write a biography on Marie Antoinette. It would be more interesting if it was a biography about Carrie, but I had a feeling my history teacher wouldn’t be too happy with that.

  I looked up to find Maye peeking through the doorway with a smile on her face; her wrinkles in stark contrast to her emerald eyes. They were not to be outdone by the crease between her eyebrows, which announced the impending serious conversation.


  “How was your day, darling?” She moved forward to sit on the edge of my bed, while I put my pen down.

  “Which part do you want to hear about first, the part when I am fairly sure I flunked my calculus test, or when Izzy brought us to a gothic clothing store to torture us, and we ended up loving it?”

  Maye let loose a startling laugh, “Please tell me, you are not going to begin coating your eyes in black coal and walking around looking like a corpse.” When I didn’t say anything she raised her eyes in a disbelieving stare.

  “Well, I did buy clothes, but they’re not exactly the typical gothic look. I think you would approve and they actually suit me.” I shrugged, as I pushed my homework aside. “Is that really why you came up here?”

  Maye chuckled, “You’re too smart for me; you always were.” She sighed. “I am assuming you saw the text I sent you earlier today?” I was silent, but nodded in ascent. “Good. I found a buyer for your parents’ home, but I think that we need to make a visit to the house before we sell it.”

  “Why? It’s not like I want anything that belonged to them!” My anger began bubbling up and Maye looked around in surprise to see my furniture shaking in response. “That house is supposed to be, what…a legacy from them? It’s a legacy I want nothing to do with.” I ground my teeth, and sat up to look at Maye. I tried to calm my anger and saw the furniture’s shaking dwindle to miniature spasms.