“Emily!”
She acts as if she can’t hear me. I stand up and slowly walk toward her. As I get closer, I see over her shoulder. The head of my childhood doll is in her small hands. I gasp and my hand closes over my mouth. My feet freeze in place and the air rushes out of my lungs.
All I can do is stand there and stare at her hands.
“Why did you lie to me?”
Bile rises into my throat. With effort, I swallow it back down. “What do you mean, Emily?”
“You told me I would be safe from them. You lied to me, Janet. You know nothing of what they are, of what I’m becoming.”
She slowly turns to look at me over her shoulder and my body numbs. I see anger in her eyes as they are slowly consumed by black.
“I wasn’t safe from them. And neither are you. The Leader wants me. He came to me the night I tried to escape from him to save me. He wouldn’t let me go. He won’t let you go, either. He wants you for his children.”
Instantly fear grips my entire being. Her voice is no longer soft and light. Gone is the sweet girl with many friends at school and who plays the piano. The girl in front of me is no longer Emily. She is now a monster. She is one of them!
Tears trail down my face and neck. Fear is replaced by guilt. “I’m so sorry, Emily.”
“No, you’re not. But you will be.” She slowly stands with the doll still in her hands. “An angel didn't mark me. He marked me. I was always meant to be one of his children and I know that now. You lied to me.” Her little frame shakes with anger. “You don’t have a mark, do you, Janet?”
I can’t speak. No words will move past my lips. I try to think of what I could say to bring Emily back to me. What can I do to stop this? My mouth opens and closes repeatedly and a smile spreads across her once sweet face.
“I didn’t think so. You told me you had a mark on your leg, but you don’t. He marks the ones he wants from birth. Once we grow old enough, he takes us and drains our souls from our bodies. We become his children, Janet. He is The Father. The ones he follows but doesn’t mark grow old enough to feed His Children. To feed me.”
I scream and sit upright in my bed. My body still feels numb with fear, but my limbs are trembling. I look around and see that an hour has passed. Not near enough time to function properly, but enough to keep sleep at bay until I can get this figured out.
I rub my face with my hands and look over to the spot Emily had been in my dream. Right where she sat in my dream was a doll head. My doll’s head. I run over to it and pick it up.
I haven’t seen this doll in years, yet here it is in the middle of my floor. If it is here…that means the dream really happened. And if the dream really happened then that means Emily is with the children now.
How could that possibly be? As I suck in a breath to cleanse my brain, the faint smell of strawberries invades my nose. I shudder and walk back to my bed. I sit there and look at the doll’s head in my hands. It is truly mine from years ago. The small patch of hair I cut as I experimented with the scissors was close to the scalp and I rub it with my fingers.
Questions swirl in my mind as I try to piece things together. He took Emily. The Father. They didn’t take me when I was a child. Was I always meant to be food for these demons? What could I do to stop them? Did I still have time to save Emily?
I sit on my bed in total confusion. I need Coby. Maybe if he were here with me, they wouldn’t take me. Maybe together we can save Emily. Would he come help me after all I put him through? I drop the doll head on my covers and run to my phone.
“Coby! I need you to come over. Now. There’s not much time to explain. Please hurry,” I blurt into my phone.
I hang up and move to my couch to wait on him. All I have to do is wait for him to come to my house and we can fix it. Together. Not being afraid of them is the key. Did I tell him enough to come? I wonder if he’s on his way. Should I call him again?
I sit there going over what I have to do in my mind when I hear the giggles. My head snaps up and I search the room. They aren't in the living room yet, but they are coming. The sounds they make are unlike anything I have ever heard. Their giggles weren’t of children playing. Not anymore.
The sound of sharp nails scratching the floor makes my stomach roll. They are running and they aren’t coming to play. That thought had me leaping from my couch and running to the front door. The giggling turned into gurgling sounds at my back. I need to get outside. I need to be around other people to protect myself.
As I run to the front door, I hear lightning strike in the distance. The front door looms ahead of me. Just a few more steps and I would be out in the open. My hand wraps around the handle as a hand grabs my leg.
I feel a tug and the front door opens as I am pulled back. My leg kicks at whatever has a grip on my leg, but nails dig into my muscles to keep me still. I hold onto the frame and try to pull myself out. Please let me go outside! Pain shoots through my leg as jagged, sharp teeth puncture my skin. I scream in agony as my legs are continuously bitten. The shriveled tongues grow in size and the gurgling noise become louder and louder until it is all I can hear. I look out the door and see Coby on the pathway leading to my porch.
“Coby!” I scream.
He doesn’t move. It is as if he is frozen in time. I scream for him to help me. He does nothing to come. It was then that I notice his short, red hair is blown to the side but never came back to rest. His shirt is wet with raindrops on one side, but the material isn’t soaking in the moisture. I look around at the scene before me and see the trees swaying to one side.
In the distance, I see lightning streaking across the sky in slow motion, as if someone had taken a picture of it. The stillness sinks into my heart and the raindrops I didn’t see before come into view. They hang heavily in the air, but never fall to meet the ground. Everything is still as if time is frozen.
Emily’s words, “When they're in my room, it seems like the morning will never come” rips away the last vestiges of my soul.
I scream again, knowing no one can help me. Piercing teeth tear into my flesh and my grip on the doorframe starts to slip. What can I do? A small arm comes around and tiny fingers grab my forearm. A red tortoise seems to stare at me.
“Emily,” I whisper as my body turns weak.
My numb fingers slip from the frame and my body crashes to the floor. The pain jars me for a moment as the creatures drag me by my legs further into the house. I kick and scream as I am pulled down the hallway back toward my living room. I reach for Coby, praying he can save me, as The Father shuts my front door with a grating laugh. My world turns black as pain sears through my arms and legs, my entire being.
Coming soon: The Cover of Love
Read the first chapter now!
I breathed in the cool air and my little frame vibrated with joy. Mama stood next to me and I felt her joy mingle with my own as we waited for Papa to come back with a hog. I had been waiting ever so patiently for the first cold day of the year to come. Papa would wake before the sun and gather up his guns to go kill a hog while we got everything ready in the smoke house. He couldn’t get back to the house fast enough for my growling belly.
I spotted Papa in the distance and started jumping up and down. The tree line outside our fences were overgrown and a tangled mess. Mama didn’t like me playing out there by myself, but never wanted to go with me. The dirt twisted and turned behind the truck, mimicking the clouds in the sky.
The grass blew in the breeze and the tall tops of the trees swayed gently. My mouth watered as I remembered the last time ham graced our dinner table. It felt like ages ago. I hopped from one foot to the other and looked around the farm. The wash needed to be done and hung out to dry, the animals needed to be fed and the horses were restless in their stalls. Everything was on hold as we prepared for Papa’s return.
“Jojo, I got something for you,” Papa said as he walked over from his old truck. He wore a smile on his dirty, sun beaten face that I loved so much.
He chuckled heartily and shook his head. “No, Jojo. It’s up here,” he replied as his hands went up to his hat.
My eyes lit up and my hands came together in front of me as I waited. Mama told me to always be patient and a lady never rushes a man for a present.
Papa bent down until our eyes met and he opened his palm to me. I smiled my biggest smile and looked down to see the most beautiful flower in my Papa’s palm. It was the color of soft lavender and the petals were silky to the touch.
The petals seemed to spread apart as if it could fly away. “It’s beautiful, Papa. It looks like a soft butterfly, like it wants to fly away and be free. What is it?” I couldn’t look away from the petals as I spoke to him, which I knew was rude.
“It’s called sweet pea, and I got it for my sweet pea,” he said smiling.
I looked up and hugged his neck tight. “Thank you, Papa. This is the best gift in the world.”
Mama smiled and placed her hand over her heart. “Alright, you two. Come on and let’s get this hog ready for cooking before I start crying.”
I remembered that moment in time with my Papa as I went to school the next day. The small flower was tucked away in my room by an open window. I stared out the window of the bus as we rode from my street to the school. The further we went into town, the nicer the houses and yards looked.
I could hear the girls in the front of the bus singing ‘Rock-in Robin’ loudly and I hummed along. A few teenage girls were walking with their books along the side walk and I took note of their skirts and hair. They were so beautiful.
The girl on the right had the perfect flip in her hair and the reddest lips I had ever seen. Her skin was tanned and the light blue dress she wore made her practically glow. The middle girl wore a pony tail and her curls bounced against her cream skin as she walked. The pink ribbon wrapped in her hair matched the pink skirt and jacket wrapped around her small frame. She had a smile that made your mouth tilt up to match hers. The girl on the left wore her hair in a twist and I wondered how many pins she had to put in to keep her hair that way. She had smooth skin the color of mocha and a soft green dress.
The girls were all laughing as we passed them by and I briefly wondered what they were talking about. They looked so happy. I looked down at my tan colored dress and sighed. I couldn’t wait to grow up and be like those girls.
My day passed by fairly quickly and the bus ride home went by too fast. Mama was picking veggies from our garden to prepare for supper and Papa was still at work.
“Hello Mama,” I said as I walked around the house to the garden. She was pulling carrots out of the ground and placing them in the basket beside her.
“Hello Jodie. How was school today?” she asked while continuing her chore.
“Same as always, Mama.” I looked into the basket and noticed there were quite a bit of vegetables in it. “Are we jarring today?”
“No dear. Your uncle Beaux is coming in tonight. I have to make enough for all of us to eat properly,” she said as she grabbed her basket.
My stomach dropped to my toes. This was not good news for me at all. Tears sprung in my eyes and my arms wrapped around my body for protection. Mama kissed my hair and walked inside our house, not noticing my reaction.
“Come, Jodie. We have to prepare for supper,” she called over her shoulder.
I walked in and began washing the vegetables in the sink, the whole time thinking of ways to get out of the house. When I finished, Mama chopped them up and made soup. I helped make bread and went to the bathroom to wash up.
I heard boots and loud voices in the other room through the walls. My trembling hands turned off the water and I sat on the floor with my back against the tub. Papa was laughing at something and I heard him call me. I stood up and took a couple deep breaths, steeling myself.
“Yes Papa?” I called through the door.
“Come on in here and say hello to your uncle once you’re done washing up,” he replied.
“Yes sir.”
I swiped at the tears falling down my face. Breathe, Jojo. I took a deep breath and stepped out of the bathroom. Our small hallway held three doors. One opened to the bathroom behind me that I was bracing myself against. The door to my left was my room. I had a twin bed set in the corner with my favorite doll sitting in the middle of my pillow. Soft, pink covers went well with the light cream dresser across the room and the small writing table placed by the window. The beautiful sweet pea flower rested on my writing desk and I longed to fly away like the butterfly it took its looks from.
To my right was the doorway that leads to our guest room. It was my chore to clean it out occasionally and set the mattress outside to air. I closed my eyes as memories of being called into that room late at night swam in my mind.
I was bigger now. I would scream at the top of my lungs before I set foot in that room with him again. I crept into the living room and Papa scooped me up in a big hug. I closed my eyes and savored his warmth and love.
“My big girl. Mama told me you helped with supper,” he whispered in my ear.
I nodded and he set me back on my feet. I tried not to look into the dark eyes of the man I hated sitting across the room. I felt his gaze on me like a thick coat weighing me down. Footsteps resounded through the room and his stench of alcohol and tobacco threatened to suffocate me.
“My favorite young lady,” he said as he came up behind me. “Are you gonna give your uncle a hug?”
I sucked in my quivering lip and turned around to face him. His arms came around my waist and squeezed me tight. It took everything I had in me to not push him away. His threats of punishment if I told someone were instilled in my mind. I was petrified of what would happen if I told someone about him.
“Supper is ready,” Mama said from the kitchen. His arms slowly let me go and I ran to the safety of the table.
I ate in silence as they all talked about Uncle Beaux’s latest adventures. He told stories of fishing in the Gulf of Mexico and partying in Mississippi. Papa loved hearing him talk and Mama always asked about the fashions in the large cities he visited.
I excused myself from the table and went out to the stalls behind our house. Brushing the horses calmed me and they seemed to love it as well. I picked up the brushes and went to Mercy’s stall. Mercy is of Marsh Tacky breed and about eleven hands. I walked in beside her and ran my hand over her strong neck. She dipped her head at me and I began stroking the brush along her beautiful sandy brown hide.
I talked to Mercy and she would dip her head like she understood me while brushing her down. When I finished I gave her a big hug and walked to the next stall. Ruth was just as tall as Mercy, but instead of sandy brown she held a darker tone to her hide.
Ruth loved to run through the pasture as fast as she could along the fence line. Even in the rain, she stomped at the ground when it was time to get in the stalls. She was wild and full of adventure. She also loved to bite.
I brushed her down as quickly as I could and ended up with two bruises on my arms. Ruth didn’t bite very hard, but enough to let you know she intentionally did so. I shut the stall door behind me and stuck out my tongue in her direction. The other side held Sid, my Papa’s horse.
Sid was twenty hands and had the muscles to match his height. He was red and had a star of white between his eyes. It took a while to brush him out, but he always leaned into the strokes so I knew he liked it. Moon was in the stall next to Sid and she bobbed her head when I opened her stall door.
“Were you waiting on me?” I crooned to her. She bobbed her head again and I laughed. She was my favorite of all the horses, but don’t tell them that. She stood fourteen hands tall and her gait was the smoothest around. Moon was my pride and joy.
Papa made sure Mama and I was there when Moon was born into our barn. I watched with my two year old eyes in wonder as she came into this world. We grew up together and she was the closest
thing I had to a best friend. I always saved her for last when I came to brush the horses because I would spend most of my time with her.
The sun sank in the sky and the insects began their night songs. I gave the horses a little extra hay and put all the brushes against the back wall. As I walked out the door of the barn, I ran into a solid object. The light had long ago faded into the west and the lights from the house didn’t reach this far.
Fear skidded up my back as arms enclosed me. The smell of tobacco filled my lungs as hot breath burned over my cheeks.
“Are you trying to hide from me?”
The next morning, Mama came in to my room and told me to help her with breakfast. I had to feed the chickens and gather eggs from the coop. I walked slowly so the pain wouldn’t be as bad and did my chores in silence.
“What’s the matter, Jojo?” Papa came around the coop and waited at the door for me. “You’re taking an awful long time to come inside. Everything alright?”
Tears poured over my face and I tried desperately to hold it in. Big, strong hands gathered me up and held me close to the beating heart that soothed my shaking frame.
“Jojo? Tell me what’s wro-“. He stopped in mid-sentence as his eyes found the bruises on my arms and legs. “I see Ruth got you here,” he pointed to the round bruises close to my shoulder. “But what are these from?”
I cried as it all spilled out. The weight of the world fell off my shoulders as I told Papa what happened to me every time he came to visit. The heart beat against my cheek accelerated and the arms holding me tightened. Drops hit my arms and I looked up to see Papa crying. My heart broke and I wrapped my arms around his neck as we cried together.
After a while, we both went inside and Papa told me to go to my room. I did as he said and shut my door behind me. There was no yelling, no fighting, nothing I could hear from behind my door. A few doors shut and Mama came to my room. Her face was red from crying and she sat on the end of my bed.
Children of Darkness Page 8
