The Darkness Within (Sanguine Series: Awakening Book 1)

by H. M Reilly

  “Yes, Dad.”

  “What happened, Charlie?"

  “I...I don’t really know."

  “Did he hit you?”

  She lowered her eyes to the pile of boxes sitting in the driveway and quietly carried one inside the house. She never believed the stories other girls her age told of Julian’s temper because she never saw that side of him until well after they moved in together. She knew her dad never really approved of their relationship for this reason, but she could see him doing his best to accept her choice. She loved her dad, but she wasn’t ready to tell him that he was right. The wounds were still too fresh, and she still couldn’t remember what all happened that night.

  There were only a few boxes left when her dad glanced at the time on his cell phone. “I need to get going, sweetheart. Gotta get up to Hollow’s Creek to check on your grandparents, but I’ll be home later. You gonna be here?”

  "I'm not sure. Probably." She shrugged.

  “Okay. Just let me know if you decide to head out. I’ll see you later.”

  “‘Kay, Dad.” She followed him out the front door with a wave goodbye before grabbing the last box from the driveway and taking it up into the house. When she set the box down in her dad’s office, Jack appeared from behind the boxes and climbed up toward the top.

  She fished her headphones from her purse and plugged them into her phone. After opening the music app, she turned her attention to the pile of boxes sitting in the corner and sat on the floor. As one of her favorite rock songs came on shuffle, she sang the lyrics quietly and bopped her head to the beat as she started to dig through the boxes in front of her, opening the flaps to see what was packed in each. She couldn't find a fat marker when packing, and she’d been in too much of a time crunch to worry about it.

  One box was filled with paperbacks and a small pile of old college schoolbooks. A book on biology, chemistry, and even an introduction to music. Another box she found filled with even more paperbacks, some with half-naked couples on the covers. She peeked in the totes filled with her clothes, plenty for the cold and warm seasons. Movies, CDs, old canvases with her pieces, and a small collection of canvas sneakers in an array of colors sat in other boxes, but none of these were what she was looking for.

  In another, smaller tote, she found old sketchpads, pencils, and paints. She skimmed through a few of the sketchpads until she found the one with the most empty pages. When she opened the sketchbook, she found several old drawings of animals and landscapes, even one or two of mystical creatures. A few pages had a fingerprint smudged in the corner and across the edges.

  She pulled out a tin with a collection of charcoal pencils, and with the shortest pencil in the box, she put the tip to the paper and let the lines show her the way. The music flowed through her ears, taking her to another state of mind – one that she only found while drawing.

  A knock at the door startled her from her own world. Jack had been asleep at her feet, but he lifted his head. Charlotte pulled one of the earbuds from her ear. "Come on in."

  The door creaked open, and her teenage sister stepped into the bedroom. Leila’s long blonde hair was tied up behind her head as a blue paste dried on her face. She stepped over the boxes and took a seat on the edge of the bed. "Dad said you were up here. He said you were gonna be staying here with us for a while."

  "Yeah," Charlotte said.

  “Everything okay? Did you want to talk about it?"

  “Eh.” She shrugged. “I’m feeling a bit better, but it’s gonna take some time to get through.”

  “I know. And you know I’m here if you need anything, Charlie,” she said. Leila rose from the bed and leaned in to give her sister a hug. The two had seven years between them, and even though they had always been total opposites, Leila being the more girly of the two, they were good friends. Charlotte missed her friends dearly, but she was thankful to have her sister around. She needed to be around a friendly face, especially now, as she adjusted to the dramatic changes in the last month.

  “Love you, Leila.”

  “Love you too, Charlie.”

  When she was alone again, she slipped the earbud back in and went back to the drawing sitting in her lap, losing track of time. Midnight passed before she crawled under the covers for the night.

  She woke late the next morning and sat staring out the window. The sun had long since risen over the mountains to greet the day, and the shadows had disappeared. She had a whole day ahead of her, but for the moment, she just sat there, watching the clouds float across the sky. She didn’t want to move, but she eventually found the energy to rise from the bed. She pulled her sweats on and went downstairs with Jack following right behind her.

  Both her parents and her sister were huddled on the couch, watching a movie on television. With a glance, she noticed they were watching a new action movie she had already seen a few times. She never really liked action movies, but for a moment, she contemplated going to join them. Instead, she went out the front door as some time outside in the fresh air seemed more enjoyable.

  Despite the raging thoughts going through her mind—Julian, their ruined relationship, and living back at home—the sun felt good against her face as she walked down the street. The long days of summer were disappearing, and she could feel the fall creeping into the air. A cool breeze brushed past as she turned around the corner. She passed a grocery store hiding in the shadow of the mountains that hovered off in the distance. As she continued walking, the trees started to outnumber the houses along her path.

  She came across a small hill and made her way to the bottom, crossing a small park over to a swing set. She lowered herself onto the seat and reached into her pocket for her cell phone and pair of headphones. Music poured into her ears as she pushed herself away from the ground.

  A young mother pushed a stroller across the grass of the small park as she made her way towards the playground. A young boy yelled out for her to watch as he climbed the ladder up to the slide, and she sat on the nearest bench, pulling a young infant from the stroller. Charlotte closed her eyes, losing herself in the music. When she opened her eyes again, shadows had grown longer across the grass. The young mother must have carried her worn-out toddler away from the park long before, which she had never noticed.

  On her way home, she stopped at the grocery store to grab a movie she planned to watch later that evening. Yet when she arrived home, she found the driveway empty. She called out Jack's name, and he came out of hiding somewhere in the house, answering her with a meow. She reached down and scratched between his ears as he curled around her ankles.

  Charlotte went to the kitchen and opened the fridge, undecided as her stomach grumbled. Nothing looked or sounded appealing. She settled for a ham sandwich with a handful of chips and a pickle on the side. She popped the movie into the player and perched on the couch to eat, enjoying the quiet time.

  She curled up after eating, pulling a blanket over herself with Jack right beside her. Before long, she felt herself drifting off to sleep as the shadows grew outside. She woke to her dad shutting off the television. She glanced at the time. “Dad?”

  “Go sleep in your bed, Charlie.”

  Charlotte headed upstairs, but she didn’t get ready for bed. Instead, she grabbed her sketchpad and tucked it beneath her arm. She climbed in the window seat and leaned against a pile of pillows with an oversized blanket across her lap. She stared at the drawing in front of her, clutching an old charcoal pencil that had been worn to a little more than a stub. Smudges bruised the side of her hand from multiple hand brushes across the page.

  The tendrils of a chilly wind combed through the tree outside, slipping through the cracked window. She lifted her attention outside as a tree branch scraped against the side of the house and tapped against the window. She watched as a few dark clouds floated across the sky, and a few faded green and yellow leaves fell to the ground.

  CHAPTER 2

  Two weeks passed since Charlotte moved into her dad’s house just ou
tside of Durango. She finally started to settle in and feel comfortable. Even Jack had started to feel more confident in his new surroundings.

  One Saturday morning after enjoying Charlotte’s favorite breakfast, biscuits and sausage gravy, her dad invited her and Leila out on a road trip up the mountain to Hollow’s Creek for the day. Rachel had been invited too, but she declined. Charlotte could only hear the murmurs of their conversation as she and Leila packed a few things to take with them for the day. When she and Leila made their way back downstairs, the house went silent except for the clatter of dishes in soapy water.

  “Let’s go, girls,” Dad said.

  Hollow’s Creek was nestled in the mountains thirty minutes north of Sequoia. The city thinned out and faded along the border of the forest. The trees grew thick, tall, and wild, some nearly as old as the mountains. They far outnumbered the houses on their drive down the highway and started to thin out once more after crossing the bridge leading to the outskirts of the small town.

  They pulled up to her grandparents' house with a small, green lawn and a large apple tree sitting near the front window of the corner of the house, birds chirping from the trees. An old truck and little white minivan sat in the gravel driveway. Several apples sat in the grass. A few appeared to be rotted or eaten by bugs. Charlotte and her sister hopped down from the car and followed their dad up the dirt path leading to the front door. The house was quiet as they stepped up, and their dad knocked on the door.

  “Adam!” A man with strawberry blond hair answered the door. If it hadn't been for the salt and pepper sprinkled in his beard, Charlotte wouldn’t have guessed the man to be her uncle. She hadn't seen him in years as he never came down to visit her, Leila, and their parents while still living in Santa Fe. White paint stained the knees of his old jeans.

  “Hey, Jimmy. Didn’t expect to see you here today,” Adam said.

  “Needed to get outta the house. Too quiet at home.” They stepped inside when Jimmy stepped aside to let the three of them in the house. "C'mon in. And who are these two lovely ladies you got with you? Did you finally trade Rachel in?”

  “Jimmy, you know the girls. Charlie and Leila.”

  “Charlie?”

  “Yes. My oldest, Charlotte. She’s going to be staying with us for a while.”

  “Ah, yea. Of course, I remember her. She was a little one still the last time I saw her.”

  "I know. It’s been a while.”

  “Shit, I know. You guys want something to drink?"

  “Uh, sure,” Adam said. Jimmy closed the door and led them down the hall as an older man appeared from the living room, shuffling his feet across the floor. Her grandfather had thinning white hair, and he appeared much leaner than the last time Charlotte saw him at Christmas a couple years before. It always pained her that she couldn’t visit her family nearly as much as she wanted. Money or work usually made it difficult.

  “What’s all this racket, James?”

  “Sorry, dad. Adam's here for a visit. With the girls.”

  “Rachel and Leila?”

  “No. Charlie and Leila, dad. Rachel stayed at home to get some work done.” Adam said.

  “Charlie? Oh yes. I haven’t seen you since you were a little girl. Ronnie? Ronnie, guess who’s here.”

  “Hi, Granddad.” Leila said. She smiled as she stepped forward to give her grandfather a hug.

  “Hey, Grandpa,” Charlotte said.

  "What did ya guys want to drink? Mom made some iced tea. There's some sodas, water. And I brought some beer over," Jimmy said. Adam glanced over at his younger brother with a frown.

  “Who’s here, Harry?" a voice called from the kitchen.

  “It's Adam and the girls. Leila and Charlie," Grandpa called back.

  “I’ll take some iced tea,” Charlotte said.

  “Make that two,” Adam said.

  “Can I have a soda, Granddad?”

  "Yes, of course. James, go get the drinks.” They followed the old man into the living room as James disappeared down the hallway.

  “Charlie? You mean our precious little, Charlotte?” her grandma said. She set aside her yarn and crochet needles to the side in exchange for a pair of glasses and rose from the couch. Her face brightened up when she saw Charlotte, her oldest granddaughter. “My dear, you look just like your mother. But you have your father’s…”

  “Thank you.”

  “It has been a while. I hope you can visit more now.”

  “Yes. I’m gonna be staying with Dad for a while.”

  “Oh, that is wonderful.” Charlotte sat beside her grandmother as she continued with a purple ball of yarn, her fingers moving slowly but precisely as the thread turned into links on a chain. The ball fell from the couch, rolling under the coffee table. Charlotte leaned down to pick up the ball, setting it down on the couch again. “When did you get to Colorado, my dear?”

  “It’s been a week or so now.”

  Jimmy returned a moment later with his hands full of drinks, setting them down on the coffee table to pass out. He disappeared once to refill drinks. Charlotte sat back, enjoying her tea, absently staring at the television while her dad spoke in a soft murmur with her grandfather about health and everyday things.

  “I’m glad you’re here, Charlotte. It has been so long since we saw you. We think about you all the time,” her grandmother said. A smile appeared across her lips as she glanced up from her yarn. “I hope you stay awhile.”

  “I will, Grandma.”

  “Make sure you visit when you can. Your grandpa has been sick, and some company always does him some good.”

  “Yeah, I’d like that, Grandma,” Charlotte said with a smile. Her grandmother reached over and patted her leg, returning the smile. Leila leaned against her sister as she became absorbed in the movie playing on the television. The sunlight outside had started to fade behind the mountains when her grandmother finally set aside her knitting and rose from the couch.

  “I hope you all like fried chicken and potato salad because that’s what we’re having,” she said. A unanimous sound of approval passed through the living room, and she disappeared into the hallway. Charlotte’s grandfather was half asleep in his recliner, barely holding on to his can of soda. Jimmy came in from another room, holding a half-empty beer bottle.

  “Leila, Charlotte? Think you could do your grandfather a favor and grab some wood from out back?” he said. Both girls glanced in their uncle’s direction. Their dad looked up as well. “Getting chilly.”

  “Why can’t you do it, Uncle James?” Leila said.

  “Just go do as he asks, Leila,” Dad said.

  “Fine.” With an exasperated sigh, she rose from the couch and took her sister’s hand, leading her outside. Leila let Charlotte’s hand go, leading her across the porch and around to the back. The woodpile sat beyond the apple tree near the edge of the house. Old leaves floated away with a breeze.

  Charlotte walked across the yard and passed by the living room window. Her uncle’s voice came through the screen, loud enough for her to hear.

  “She’s going to bring that bastard around here! She’s going to bring that supernatural shit back into our lives!” Jimmy said. “Maybe your little devil’s spawn should have stayed in New Mexico.”

  Charlotte glanced toward the house but continued toward the woodpile, trying to ignore what she overheard. Hearing her uncle refer to her as a “little devil’s spawn” almost felt misplaced. Those words only made her feel more like the black sheep of the family, trying to hide a darkness within her.

  She knew from a young age that she was different. She knew that she wasn’t like other girls. Emotional outbursts left her with gaps in her memory, but over time, she learned how to channel her emotions and especially her anger. Art became that outlet for her. After recent events, that one comment shook her already damaged confidence.

  With creaking hinges, the front door slammed shut. The old truck sitting in the driveway suddenly peeled out of the driveway, tires spit
ting rocks. Leila and Charlotte walked back inside, each with a small pile of wood in their arms. She wondered what was said to have affected her uncle enough to leave for the night as they unloaded the logs beside the fireplace.

  “What the hell is going on with all this racket?” her grandfather said.

  “Your son, James, forgot whatever manners he learned as a child,” Grandma announced. She glanced at her husband with a shake of her head.

  “What you giving me that look for? He didn’t learn it from me.”

  She left the room with a grumble to finish making dinner in the kitchen. Charlotte grabbed her glass and headed down the hall to get a refill on her tea. Mostly, she needed to clear her mind. Her dad was nowhere to be seen, but the back door was cracked open, and Jack sat at the screen door.

  She passed a dark room on her way back to the living room, the door cracked open, and she peeked inside to find a room that looked much like an old office area. A single window stood on the far wall, and a heavy curtain blocked most of the light. A handful of unvarnished bookcases lined the opposite wall with a couch sitting in the nearby corner. She stepped inside, glancing over the books filling the shelves. Several looked older than she with cracked spines while others looked dusty and untouched.

  Charlotte put her glass on a nearby table and sat on the floor in front of one of the bookcases. On a lower shelf, a pile of old photo albums sat stacked on each other. A thin layer of dust rested on their covers. Reaching for the one on the top of the pile, she opened it up and leafed through the pages, finding a collection of more recent photos. Toward the back of the album, she came across photos of her and Leila standing in a snowy yard in front of their childhood home in Santa Fe. Another of her, Leila, and their parents laughing at a restaurant table. Another page towards the back held a picture of Charlotte and Julian from the summer before, a smile beaming across their faces with a small black kitten between them. Charlotte set the album back on the shelf.