When Darkness Falls

by Amanda Perry

  When Darkness Falls © copyright 2019 Amanda Perry & AJ Anders

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the writer, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Printed in the United States of America.

  First Printing, 2019

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Prologue

  “Hey, brat!” Dad yells from the bottom of the stairs. “Are you almost ready?”

  I roll my eyes, knowing full well he can’t see me. “I wish you’d tell me where we’re going, Daddy. I don’t know what to pack.”

  “Ditto!” Mom calls out from their room down the hall.

  “You girls are horrible with surprises,” Dad grumbles.

  The television downstairs clicks on. Dad immediately begins griping about the ref giving out bad calls and I can’t stop myself from giggling. Dad only ever turns the TV onto sports center when he knows mom and I are going to take forever.

  Three hours ago, Dad told Mom and me that we needed to pack for a few days but refused to tell us where we’re headed. He does this sometimes. He comes up with crazy weekend ideas and while we always end up having a great time, Mom and I still love to torture him by relentlessly begging to know where we’re headed and what we should bring.

  Once I finish packing, I grab my suitcase and drag it to the top of the stairs.

  “Daddy!” My voice echoes off the walls, and I grin when I hear the television mute. I’d obviously achieved the right volume to snag his attention. “We’re ready, but we need the Hulk to get our crap to the car.”

  “Don’t curse, young lady,” Mom scolds me as she drags her own suitcase, placing it next to mine on the top of the stairs. “It’s not classy.”

  “Shit would have been a curse word and not classy. Crap is a teenage word that I’m entitled to use by law,” I counter, laughing when she tries to glare at me.

  “The kid’s got a point, dear,” Dad lets out a chuckle and grabs our bags, a hint of strain on his face when he lifts them. “Jesus, what did you girls pack, bodies?”

  “Only those of our foes!” With my dramatic cry delivered I hop down the stairs behind my parents.

  A few more curse words as Dad maneuvers the suitcases in the truck and twenty minutes later, we’re on the road.

  “Dad!” I giggle, covering my face to hide my blush. “We do not need to have this conversation! Mom told me all about the male species like six years ago, remember?”

  I’m still not sure how we got onto the current subject. It started with us talking about a school dance I was considering going to with a group of friends. Dad seems to think that means I plan to run off into the sunset with the biggest and meanest guy in school and live a depraved life of drugs and alcohol.

  Sometimes I wonder if he really thinks these things or if he just tries to lecture me for his own entertainment. Mom never gets into the middle of our little battles. She thinks it’s great bonding for us, or so she says. I secretly love it when Dad tries to be strict. He knows I’m the perfect child and never do anything truly wrong, so it’s funny to watch him try to come up with outrageous things I could get into trouble for. Once, he tried to ground me for putting the toilet paper roll on the wrong way. Mom vetoed that one pretty fast.

  Mom throws her hands in the air and lets out an unladylike snort. “Don’t put me in the middle of this, you two figure it out.”

  “I’m not saying we have to have another sex talk,” Dad insists, ignoring my “ew” face when he says the S word. “I just want to make sure you’re safe. I’m the cool dad, you can come to me about boys and crap if you want to. I’m down with the times, yo.”

  “Um, you’re for sure not ‘down’ with anything, Dad. I promise, if I ever need advice about men, I will come to you,” I assure him, hoping this ends the conversation.

  “Honey, where are we?” Mom suddenly asks, looking out the window into the night. Dad mentioned it would be a long drive but we have been on the road for two hours already, so we’re getting impatient. “This seems like a longer drive than the long drive you promised.”

  “I have a surprise for you girls,” Dad announces, his tone brimming with excitement. “How would you girls feel about a weekend getaway at the cabin?”

  Mom and I share a look before bursting into delighted squeals. Dad laughs and pretends to cover his ears with one hand while driving with the other.

  “I think I’ve gone deaf!” My ears ring with the volume of dad’s theatrical cries.

  Mom and I continue to giggle and chatter about the trip and all the shopping we could do. We go to my parents’ cabin a few times a year and it never gets old. We love to sunbathe by the lake and go for jogs on the remote hiking trail.

  I glance out the front window, trying to figure out how much farther we have, when I notice an animal dart out into the road.

  I don’t have time to yell for my dad to stop. He notices about the same time as me and jerks the car hard in response. The tires squeal and the smell of burning rubber assaults my nose as our car lurches off the side of the road. My dad loses complete control as we leave the asphalt causing the car to careen down the side of the cliff we’d been driving on. My screams fill the small space as we flip over and over. The breaking of glass and grinding of metal is so loud it deafens the sound of my cries. Sharp pain explodes in my temple as my head hits the door frame. I hunch over and curl my arms around me, trying to protect myself. Finally, after an eternity, the car stops moving with a jarring halt. We’d landed upside down and I can’t move. I call out for my parents. My mom doesn’t respond. Blood drips onto the hood of the car, forming a small pool underneath where she hangs limply. Mom’s head is bleeding badly and no matter how hard I scream for her she won’t wake up.

  “Honey.” Dad’s voice is rough and low, but I hear him.

  “Daddy!” I desperately try to get unstuck from my seat belt. “Daddy, I can’t get out.”

  “It’s okay, baby,” he tells me calmly. “I need you to listen to me. Are you listening?”

  “Y-yeah,” I whimper. I do my best to calm my breathing enough to do as he asks.

  “You need to stay calm
and stay strong. Remember that Mom and I love you so much and we always will.” He coughs and groans, as if the movement causes him pain. “Honey, you need to be strong. You are meant to do great things. We will always be here with you.”

  “Daddy, we’ll be fine,” I cry, trying to reach for him but not able to. My vision is starting to turn fuzzy, but I fight to stay awake. “Don’t say stuff like that.”

  “I know, Honey. I love you,” he whispers.

  “I love you too, Daddy,” I whisper back as the darkness fully envelopes me.

  1

  “Julianne!” Aunt Lauren’s screechy, obnoxious voice reaches my ears from across the apartment. “Get your stupid ass in here!”

  With a loaded sigh, I reluctantly roll off my mattress and drag myself into the living room. “You called?” I ask, keeping my voice void of the annoyance I truly feel.

  Aunt Lauren gestures wildly around the apartment and looks at me as if I should know what she’s trying to tell me. I glance around the place and take in the stained and dirty carpet from her many “get togethers” with her friends. An old torn couch sits against the living room wall across from the box television that doesn’t work. She refuses to throw it out because someone might want to buy it off her.

  The kitchen is about three feet from the living room and it matches the theme of our apartment perfectly. Dirty and disgusting. Something is burned into the surface of the stove and two of the burners don’t work. The freezer door is missing and the fridge is stained yellow from smoke courtesy of Aunt Lauren and her friends. Black, circular cigarette marks dot the counter tops, and there are disgusting beer spills all over. Residue from other unknown substances are sprinkled throughout the rest of the house, and I shudder just thinking about the fact I live inside a living petri dish.

  We have no dining room. There are two bedrooms and one bathroom. The bathroom is just as awful as the rest of the house, and sometimes I would rather take my chances at the gas station bathroom on the corner than risk an infection in ours.

  My room is a pristine palace compared to the others. The only things I have in there are my mattress on the floor and a worn bookcase and dresser. Aunt Lauren’s room is a different story. Hers looks like the rest of the apartment. The floor isn’t visible and I’m convinced something died in there because the smell that comes out when her door is open is horrendous enough to make me gag.

  This is not how I’m used to living. My mother kept a clean house when I was growing up. Everything had a place and everything should be in its designated spot. Aunt Lauren doesn’t believe in cleaning unless I’m the one doing it.

  When mom and dad died last year, I was sent to live with an aunt I had never met. Lauren Clemons is my mother’s younger sister. She has never been married and has no children. After living with her for a year, I can understand why. She’s in her late thirties, yet she parties like a twenty-year-old sorority girl. As my only living relative, Lauren received guardianship over me and my parents’ possessions. Within the first few months, she blew through their entire savings plus the money she received on the sale of my old house. I was devastated and begged her to keep the house or at least the belongings inside. She told me to stop being an ungrateful bitch and to shut my mouth when I wouldn’t let the subject drop. She said that as my guardian it was her job to provide for me and to do that, she had to sell it and everything my parents owned. She has no idea I hid some things away that meant a lot to me before she got her paws on them and pawned them.

  When I finally get out of this hell hole, I’ll at least have something to take with me that belonged to my parents. Only one more year before I turn eighteen and I can leave this crappy apartment and never look back.

  Lauren snaps her fingers in my face to get my attention. My eyes dart back to her and she glares at me. “I have friends coming over and this place is a fucking mess! You didn’t do your chores again!”

  “I wasn’t aware cleaning up your mess was my responsibility,” I retort, putting my hands on my hips.

  The blow she delivers is unexpected and it takes me a moment to realize she slapped me. I taste the hint of blood in my mouth from biting my lip and raise my hand to cover my stinging cheek. I really shouldn’t be surprised that her abuse has turned physical. At first Lauren was just mean. She would say hurtful things and call me names. When I got used to that she started shoving me, and the name calling and verbal abuse got worse. Over the last few weeks the shoving has morphed into more physical assaults when I least expect it, like right now.

  “You will not disrespect me in my home,” Lauren growls, stepping closer to me. “After everything I have done for you, you’re still an ungrateful piece of shit.”

  Without a word, I grab my bag beside the front door and run from the apartment. I know Lauren won’t follow me; she never bothers. I could be out for days at a time and when I get back, the only thing she has to say to me is that I’ve left a mess and need to clean it, or she needs money for rent. Luckily, I have a part time job that allows me to save for such things. If it wasn’t for my job, we’d be on the streets.

  The night air has a bite to it and I can feel the cold seeping through my thin jacket. Another thing Lauren made sure to do, was sell all my good clothing and purchase me thrift store pieces. It wouldn’t be bad if she had found things that would last. The jacket I got just a few months ago had come with holes in it and it’s already beginning to fray even more.

  It’s going to start snowing soon, but I would rather be stuck in the cold snow than inside the suffocating hell of Lauren’s apartment. Deciding to find a place to stay warm, I head in the direction of the diner I work at. It’s a small place that stays open twenty-four hours. The owner is nice enough. As long as I do my job and show up on time for my shifts, he stays off my back. I keep to myself when I’m there, only speaking to customers and coworkers when necessary. It prevents people from asking questions I prefer not to answer.

  The walk to Joe’s Diner is quiet and peaceful. The night sky around me is littered with sparkling lights, making me feel like they’re illuminating the path for me. I’ve always loved the night. Its calming embrace allows me to get lost in my head as I gaze up at the heavens. Night is also when I talk to my parents. For some reason I feel like they can hear me better when the stars are alight. It’s silly when I really think about it, but talking to them helps me survive the situation I’ve been thrown into. I wish they were here to tell me what to do. But I know I have to be strong, just like my dad told me.

  2

  Today is going to be a long and dreadful day, I can feel it already. I stayed at the diner all night last night, not wanting to deal with Lauren and her friends. By staying out all night, I didn’t get any sleep and I have to get to school.

  Sneaking back into the house, I have to step over two strangers passed out on the living room floor. Lauren is nowhere to be seen and I can only assume she’s also unconscious in her room, next to another overnight, meaningful relationship.

  I shower and dress quickly, not wanting to be in the house any longer than necessary. Before I leave, I search the kitchen, praying there’s something there for me to eat. I haven’t had anything since yesterday morning because I didn’t have money with me last night. I’m starving, but my thorough search of the kitchen has revealed nothing but an expired can of peas and moldy bread, and I’m not that desperate yet.

  With a tired sigh and a rumbling stomach, I grab my bag and head out the door. School is a mile away, but I don’t mind the walk. It helps me clear my head and prepare for the torture that is Kingston High School.

  In my old school, I had a nice group of friends and even though we had our share of jerks, for the most part, everyone was kind. At Kingston the students seem to think it’s a game to see who can be a bigger asshole. The place is full of delinquents and smart-ass jerks. I do my best to keep to myself, but it isn’t always easy. The only thing that keeps me going is the potential for a scholarship. If I can get a full ride to college wit
h my grades, then I can leave as soon as I graduate.

  Arriving at the school, I head straight for my locker and grab the books for my first three classes. A commotion to my left catches my attention and I notice two of the school’s biggest pricks getting ready to throw punches at each other.

  “You stole her from me!” idiot one yells, shoving idiot two.

  Idiot two recovers quickly and pushes idiot one back. “She must have realized she likes guys who actually have dicks.”

  “Fuck you!” idiot one snarls, throwing a punch at idiot two.

  The whole school seems to think this show rivals reality television because they all rush to get a glimpse of the fight. I roll my eyes at the pathetic drama and head in the opposite direction. Those two deserve whatever they do to each other.

  Later on, I overhear people talking about the two guys who got suspended for fighting over the head cheerleader. Of course, I wasn’t shocked to hear this news, but I was a bit surprised to see said head cheerleader on the arm of a completely different guy by lunch. The girl moves fast. Then again so do all the girls in this god forsaken place. It makes me wonder how many STDs are floating around.

  Walking outside to a tree at the far end of the courtyard, I make a mental note to never use the bathrooms at the school again unless it is an absolute emergency.