But the moment I hear another noise, I wish I could go back to listening to the clock tick.
Here he comes.
I hate him.
I don’t want to do this again.
What I would give to just vanish.
Or be able to fight back for once—
A sliver of light pierces through the darkness as he opens the door at the top of the stairway. Vomit burns in my throat as footsteps descend the stairs, slowly but with purpose.
"Oh Haven," Tim, my foster father, taunts me as he reaches the bottom of the stairs.
I curl further into the shadows, trying to become one with them. But he finds me. He always does.
“I heard you misbehaved today,” he says to me as he stands in front of the recliner with his arms crossed, the light from upstairs drifting down and hitting against his back.
I smash my lips together, stupidly hoping that he can't see me. That maybe these strange abilities of mine will suddenly make a grand appearance again and make me invisible.
“So we’re going to play the silent game, huh?” He starts to remove his belt. “Good. That means I won’t have to hear you cry this time.”
I bite down on my tongue so hard I taste blood.
He laughs darkly, the sound sending goosebumps across my flesh. “You’re amusing when you’re scared… Like a frightened little bird.” He gets his belt all the way off, wraps it around his hand, then reaches for me.
I dart to the side, hopping off the recliner. Then I run. But he shoves me to the side, and I fall down, smacking my head against the concrete floor.
For a strange as hell moment, I swear I feel hot again like I did earlier when the crazy pink-haired woman grabbed me.
Scorching.
I’m melting from the inside.
Part of me wishes I’d start on fire and take this whole damn house down with me.
But when dizziness consumes me, that heat stifles.
I stumble to my feet, but my head pulsates, and I collapse back to the floor. Blood roars in my eardrums as darkness swarms my vision. It feels like I'm about to be swallowed up by something.
Part of me wishes it would happen.
And then I feel it. That cold sensation I feel whenever I zone out.
Not right now, please, I beg my mind. If I black out, I won’t know what he does to me. Then again, I hate thinking about what he’s done to me, how he’s hurt me, tied me up with that stupid belt and touched me. I have scars on my wrist from that belt. And scars in my mind from what he’s done to me.
I hate this.
I hate that I’m too weak to fight him off.
Hate that out of everyone I’ve ever crossed paths with, he’s the one who decided he wasn’t afraid to be near me.
I hate this.
Hate this life.
Hate how weak I am.
For collapsing moment, I feel like just giving up.
“Just give up, Haven,” he whispers in my ear. “Stop fighting.”
No!
That fire blazes through me again, potent and toxic. Powerful.
Sucking in a breath, I push to my feet.
I won’t give up.
I won’t!
But he places his foot onto my back, pinning me down against the floor.
“Get off me,” I growl out, tears burning my eyes like the heat searing inside my body.
Why am I so hot?
He pushes down on me harder, and I feel him lean over me.
“You always smell so good,” he whispers, sniffing my hair again. “Like fear and weakness. Two of my favorite things.” He takes one more breath then roughly grabs my wrists and pins them behind my back.
I open my mouth to scream, even though I know it won't do any good. I've screamed before and Tina never comes, so she's well aware of what her husband does to me, and she just chooses to ignore it.
But I refuse to go down without a fight, so I scream until I become hoarse, until I’m crying, until Tim has me tied up, until his hands are touching me.
I hate him.
I wish I could hurt him.
I wish I could make him pay.
I want to make him burn.
I want to let the darkness swallow him whole.
I want to take over his mind and devour it.
Those crazy thoughts are the last I have before darkness takes over my mind and sweeps me away.
Haven
My new foster mother won’t stop telling everyone that I’m tainted. I’m not even sure what tainted means, but everyone seems to be afraid of me whenever she tells them this.
I wish she’d stop it, wish she'd see that there's nothing wrong with me.
Sure, I look and act a bit different. My eyes are really dark, and I always feel disconnected whenever I'm talking to someone. I don't know why I'm this way, but I don't do it on purpose. I just don't know how to act.
But I’m trying, like right now.
I'm sitting in the kitchen with one of Mia's friend's daughter. Her name is Lea, and she has blond hair and blue eyes; normal blue eyes that I'm envious of. Everyone is always afraid of my eyes.
“Your eyes are really scary,” Lea tells me as she stuffs a handful of candy into her mouth. “It’s probably why your parents didn’t want you.”
I swallow hard, wanting to scream at her, but if I do, I know I’ll get in trouble. “No, that’s not why.”
She smirks. “Really? Then why did they get rid of you?”
I lift a shoulder, staring at the linoleum floor. I hate talking about my parents. It hurts for some reason.
She laughs. “I bet it was because of your eyes. And you’re really weird. My older brother said he heard my mom and your fake mom talking about how you’re like probably possessed by some sort of evil spirit.”
I say nothing and part of me likes it that way, likes not talking. But the other part of me wants to yank on her hair hard enough to make her cry.
“Are you?” she sneers as she stuffs another handful of candy into her mouth.
“Am I what?” I ask.
She grins and candy is stuck to her teeth. “Are you evil? Maybe that’s why your parents didn’t want you. Because you are. And you’re ugly, so maybe that’s why too. Or maybe they’re just bad people… Or maybe they hate you. Or maybe they’re killers—”
Something snaps inside me, and I reach out and pull her hair.
She lets out a scream. “Get away from me!”
I immediately let go of her hair. “S-sorry,” I sputter.
But she keeps screaming.
A few seconds later, my foster mother and Lea’s mother come rushing into the kitchen.
Lea is in tears by then, and all I want to do is run.
“What did you do?” Mia snaps, glaring at me.
I open my mouth to admit what I did, but Lea cries out, “She tried to beat me up! And she said she was going to kill me!”
“I did not!” I cry out, shaking my head, tears burning in my eyes.
Mia's glare deepens as she grabs my arm, her fingernails digging into my skin as she yanks me to my feet. "I should've listened to my instincts about you." She drags me toward the living room. "I should've told them to take you back the moment I saw you."
Tears sting in my eyes. “I didn’t do anything!” I shout, trying to defend myself.
“Liar!” she shouts, shoving me down on the sofa. “You’re nothing but a liar.”
“No, I’m not—”
She strikes me across the face, shocking both of us. For a moment, she pauses, staring at me with wide eyes. But then she collects herself and strikes me again. And again. And again. As pain builds inside me, so does this strange heat.
Sweltering.
I feel so hot.
I hear voices from somewhere. Mia screaming, I think. And then I hear nothing. Nothing but the soft chants of something that can only be described as madness.
* * *
When I regain consciousness, I'm lying face down on the cold basement fl
oor, my wrists are untied, and the air is quiet. But it's a maddening sort of silence. One good thing, though, is that the heat I felt in my body is gone. A chill is now glazing through my veins, but it feels soothing. Just like the quiet.
Then I hear a noise, mumbling from somewhere, and that soothing sensation shatters.
I gulp. Oh God, this is just like the incident with Mia.
But who’s mumbling? Tim? Probably. But I’m not about to stick around and find out.
I need to get out of here.
I jump to my feet, but instantly regret it as my head throbs and the room spins. I blink several times, struggling to keep my balance—
The lights click on and I stiffen.
Crap. Crap. Crap.
Squinting against the light, I frantically peer around. Everything appears normal, except Tim isn’t anywhere. That mumbling, though, it has to be him. It sounds just like when I unleashed my powers on Mia.
“Where the hell is he?” I mumble as I take a cautious step forward—
“Oh my God, what have you done!” Tina cries out from behind me.
I spin around and find her looking beneath the stairway, her face pale as death, her eyes wide in horror.
Every part of me screams run!
I reel around toward the stairway, preparing to get the hell away from this house. I don’t care if I get called in as a runaway again. It’ll be better than living in this hellhole.
“Get over here right now!” Tina screams at me, grabbing the back of my shirt.
She jerks on me hard enough that I stumble back, and my gaze zeroes in underneath the stairway. I freeze as terror rips through me.
I hadn’t really gotten a good look at Mia after I had accidentally used my powers on her. Too many people had been there and had gotten in my way. Plus, Lea’s mom had shouted for me to get out of the house, so I had left. Only I didn’t know where to go, so I ended up sitting on the front porch until the cops showed up.
Part of me has always wondered what exactly happened to Mia, what she looked like as she chanted that language no one seemed to recognize. But if she looked at all like Tim, I’m glad I didn’t see it at the time, because the sight is absolutely horrifying.
He’s cowering underneath the stairway with his hands over his ears, the blood veins on his arms so prominent they look like they’re about to pop out from underneath his skin.
That heat in my body builds again, a voice filling my head.
Look at what you’ve done.
I shake my head. “I didn’t do this.” But really, I know I did.
Tina jabs a finger in my face. “Yes, you did! You did this to him! I know you did! You sick freak of nature! You sinner,” she hisses, leaning close to me. “I knew you were a bad seed from the moment I laid eyes on you. I should’ve sent you back! I should’ve listened to the rumors about you!”
“I didn’t do this to him,” I say in an uneven tone. “How could I… I mean, what even happened to him?”
Deep down, I know. Know that somewhere, deep inside me a darkness lives. I don't know why I have it in me or where it comes from. All I know is that I just unleashed it on Tim.
I wanted to hurt him.
Wanted to make him pay.
Take his mind and devour it, I had thought.
And I did.
I just don’t know how.
I inhale shakily. “I didn’t do this—”
Tina shoves me back so hard I slam into the wall. "You did!" she shouts as she storms for the stairway. "I'm calling the police. You're going to jail where sinners like you belong."
“But I didn’t do anything!” I cry out, rushing up the stairs after her.
When she reaches the top of the stairway, she slams the door in my face and locks me in. Locks me in the darkness again. Only this time I’m not haunted by the quietness. No, I have Tim’s rambling to fill up the silence.
Sinking down onto the stairs, I lower my head into my hands and try to remember what happened. But my memories become hazy after Tim tied up my wrists with his belt. I have no idea how I got out of that and if he touched me or not. And I have no idea what led up to Tim being under the stairs, rambling to himself in some sort of different language. But I have a feeling that when the police show up, I’ll get blamed for this. Not that it’ll be official. With Mia, there was only speculation that turned into rumors around town.
What if this time, though, they find a way to blame this on me? Then what, Haven?
I swallow hard, wondering what waits for me when the police show up, what Tina will tell them I did. She’s a good liar, and I worry she’ll come up with quite the story that makes me look extremely guilty. And unlike the incident with Mia, I’m seventeen years old now, not legally an adult, but close enough that I might get in trouble. Although, I’m not sure what I’ll get in trouble for. Tim’s condition is… well, really weird, but very similar to Mia’s condition. What if they put two and two together and figure out just how much of a freak I am? That I have these strange abilities connected to darkness?
Maybe I can just tell the police about what Tim does to me in the darkness of this basement. Then again, in the past, whenever I’ve tried telling someone that my foster parents were hurting me, no one believed me.
What if they don’t believe me now?
What if I’m going to jail?
What’s going to happen to me?
Those thoughts haunt my mind until the sounds of sirens overlap Tim’s mumbling. A few minutes later, the basement door opens up. Tina appears in the doorway along with two uniformed officers.
“She’s the one who did it,” she tells one of the officers as she points a finger at me. “She… broke my husband.”
I stand up and shake my head. “I didn’t do anything. I swear I didn’t… He just… He went crazy.”
“Liar!” Tina shouts, her face red. “She hurt my Tim. She’s the reason he…” She doesn’t finish her sentence, standing there with a dumbstruck look on her face.
Her accusation is enough for one of the officers to haul me out of the house. When we get outside, he puts me in the back of his vehicle, arresting me for… Well, whatever the hell happened to Tim.
Haven
Okay, apparently just because you get put in the back of a police car, doesn’t mean you’re actually being arrested, something I learn after the officer returns and lets me out of the back of his vehicle.
An ambulance has arrived by then, and neighbors are crowding around the yard. As I stand near the police vehicle, trying to ignore the stares, the officer informs me that the paramedics believe Tim is suffering from a mental breakdown. He asks me a bunch of questions, like why we were in the basement to begin with, and what events took place that led up to Tim mentally breaking.
Part of me wants to tell him the truth, tell him about all the times I’ve been locked in that basement. Tell him how Tim would come down there and tie me up, then touch me against my will. But just the thought of saying all this aloud sends fear and self-disgust coursing my body.
I hate that I feel this way. So weak.
I’ve always been so weak.
Instead, I end up telling the officer that when I walked into the basement to do some laundry, I found Tim in the condition he’s in now. The officer doesn’t seem very satisfied by my answer, but when I insist several times that I’m telling the truth, he gives up and goes over to talk to Tina, who’s sobbing beside the stretcher Tim is being wheeled out on.
When the paramedics put Tim in the back, he starts screaming words that make no sense. Tina sobs harder as she moves to duck into the back with him. Right before she gets in, though, she glances at me.
"You're going to hell for this! You… monster!" Tears flood her eyes, and hatred burns in her tone.
And I have to wonder if she’s right. If I am going to hell for this.
If I am a monster.
* * *
After the ambulance pulls away, I’m told that my time with Tina and Tim has come to an e
nd. Not that I didn’t expect that already. And I’m glad. Although, I’m a bit stressed out over where I’ll end up next. But honestly, at this point, I’m just grateful I didn’t get arrested.
A few hours later, I've packed up all of my stuff, and the police put me in a vehicle to take me down to social services so they can hand me over to my caseworker.
We arrive only minutes later, and I find myself wishing the drive was longer because my social worker is… Well, let's just say not very nice.
Her name is Beth, and she has what people call a resting bitch face. The expression is fitting too since she can be a real bitch sometimes.
“You know, I wish I could say I’m not surprised you made yet another one of your foster parents have a psychotic breakdown,” she tells me after the police officer has filled her in on what happened. “But I’m not.” She shuts my file and overlaps her hands on top of it. “You’ve been in the system for seventeen years, basically since you were born. Most babies who get put into the system end up getting adopted. But you… you were trouble even when you were in diapers. And your record…” She shakes her head, her bitch face in full form. “Stealing, lying, causing trouble, scaring everyone… And now this…” She gives another shake of her head. “Do you know how complicated it’s going to be to place you in a home now? It was already bad enough…” She sighs. “How did you even cause that poor man to have a breakdown?”
“I didn’t,” I mutter, fiddling with the leather bands I keep on my wrist to hide the scars Tim gave me from tying me up with that damn belt.
The way the scars look, people always assume I put them there myself. That I’m either a cutter or suicidal. Tim and Tina used that to their benefit, told everyone stories about how they found me in the bathroom cutting my wrist with a razor blade. Whenever I tried to defend myself, they’d punish me. So eventually, I learned to keep my mouth shut.
“Maybe you did. Maybe you didn’t. Honestly, you lie so much I don’t know what to believe anymore.” She sighs again. “You’re just lucky you can’t get charged for causing someone to have a nervous breakdown.”
Monster Academy for The Magical: (Monster Academy for the Magical, #1) Page 2
