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Chapter 5-Sloane- ten years ago

Author: Anna R. Case
last update Last Updated: 2022-11-09 04:43:51

I awake with a cry and a fierce burning in my cheek. I can’t make sense of much for a while, just that my face bounces off the seat of a vehicle, each impact sends shooting pains that fill my eyes with tears and steal my breath. I can feel my blood, as it clings to my neck, feel it soaking the tie-dye shirt I wore to school. I try to understand what is happening. Why it’s dark and I hurt so badly and where I am. But when I do, when it comes flooding back in jagged pieces, sharp enough to cut, I long to close my eyes again and make it all go away. The truth hurts so much worse than the pain tearing at my face. Then the memory of the monster striking me with his claws. I slowly touch my cheek, my hand quakes by what I’m afraid to find there. I wince when I feel the warm sticky blood that still oozes from the deep scratches I trace with my fingertips. I stop when it hurts too bad to continue.

Mom. Dad. Max. All gone. The monster got in. It caught us. Where is CeCe? That thought sends me into a panic and I shoot up off the seat. My pain is temporarily numb as I try to adjust my eyes to the darkness to find my baby sister. Mom asked me to protect her and I lost her! I let Mom down. My heart can beat a bit better again when I notice her curled up on the floorboard, fast asleep. The rise and fall of her little chest brings me comfort in a world I can no longer really understand. I can’t process all that has happened since I came home from school yesterday to now and I stop trying. My head hurts. My face hurts. My heart hurts worst of all.

I dare risk a look towards the front of the vehicle to the monster who currently wears the face of a man. I am scared, exhausted, thirsty, but when I notice he is wearing Daddy’s clothes, still wearing traces of his blood, and he has stolen our minivan, I am enraged. It’s that rage that helps the words come.

“Why are you wearing my dad’s clothes?” I demand of the beast, “where are you taking us? You won’t get away with this!”

He laughs, “You’re a mouthy little bitch, aren’t you? Just like your mother. I put her in her place, I will be obeyed. You’ll learn real quickly, little bitch.”

And then I thought of the dirtiest words I knew. The ones I’d only whispered in my head or in my room when I was alone, or that one time with my friends at school in the bathroom.

“Fuck you!” I spat at him.

He laughed harder from the driver’s seat. “I’m really going to enjoy breaking you.  But I’ll teach you just what little bitches like you are good for.”

I pull my legs up onto the seat and hug them. I don’t feel as brave as I did the moment before. I have seen the things he can do, the monster that lives inside him, and I know it’s stupid to provoke him. But I can’t stop myself. My eyes find his in the rearview mirror.

“I’m going to kill you one day,” I declare solemnly.

“You wouldn’t be the first whose tried. You’re welcome to try, little bitch. I’ll give you a scar to match on your other cheek.”

I grit my teeth and ignore his threat. He’s already hurt me in the worst ways he can. He killed Daddy, Mom, and Max. And I will kill him. I don’t care how big or strong he is. Or how long it takes. I’ll keep CeCe safe in the meantime and when I find my chance to kill him, I won’t hesitate.

“Where are you taking us? What are you?”

“You ask too many questions. Lay down and shut the fuck up. It’s a long ride. Don’t incite my anger any further. Or I just might change my mind about letting you live. I have a duty to my cub but none to you. So do not tempt me. I’ve already claimed you but that can be undone.”

I want to ask him why he is then, why he took us, but I know when to keep my mouth shut. What is he talking about cub? Claimed? I don’t understand. The car falls silent as I get lost in my head and CeCe continues to sleep curled up like a little cat on the floor mat. Miles pass before the monster speaks again, miles of nothing but trees, and fields, taking us farther away from the life we knew.

 The glow of the clock on the dash says it’s nearly dawn. I lost a couple hours when I passed out from the pain and shock of his blow. I struggle to recall any memories of how I got in our van, but I can’t. Thoughts of him touching me, carrying me, make me feel physically sick. I’m too many things to sleep. I fight off tears and my feelings over the loss of my parents. Though I’m no good at it. I sniffle and wipe at my good cheek, the salt of my tears burns the claw marks on my face. It’s throbbing so badly; I want to scream. But I don’t want to scare CeCe and wake her up. So, I hold it in.  She should be in her car seat, riding on the floor isn’t safe, but I let her sleep anyway, and I know we are not safe with this monster no matter what. Seat belts seem to be the least of our troubles right now.

His voice startles me in the darkness, broken only by the occasional streetlight. It seems even the stars have abandoned me now, in a cloudy, inky sky. I’ve never felt more alone in all my life. He smells terrible, like unwashed dog, now mixed with the tangy scent of dried blood. I’m tempted to try and crack a window to air out the backseat from his stench. I wonder when the last time he bathed was, or combed his matted hair? I hate him with every fiber of my being. I wish him a long, and painful death.  I begin to plot it in my head.

Werewolf my brain screams. You need silver bullets to kill werewolves. But werewolves aren’t real. They only exist in movies and books. But after tonight, I believe in them. Not believing in something doesn’t stop it from hurting you. All these years, this was the monster my mom feared. The one which made her paranoid and kept her up at night. The reason we never stayed in one place for too long least the monster find us. She had a good reason to be afraid. And I feel the shame over all the trouble I caused her when I complained about moving or her not letting me out of her sight. I wouldn’t have believed her if she did try to tell me the reason, she was so afraid all the time. Monsters are real, and one killed my parents.

“Have you bled yet girl?” he asks.

“What? What do you mean?”

I do not like the way he watches me in the mirror. The way he looks at me. It gives me a bad feeling in my belly.

“Become a woman as you tuniculas call it,” when I continue to give him a blank stare, he continues, “have you gotten your monthly cycle?”

I am horrified and embarrassed.  No grown man has ever asked me that before. Not even Daddy. And it is not this stranger’s business about my period! It’s my body and it’s personal. I can’t understand why he is asking me this. I haven’t started yet, but it is not like I’m going to tell him that either way. TMI. Now both of my cheeks are on fire.

“It’s none of your business,” I finally respond.

My gaze goes back to the window. Anywhere but him.

“I’ll find out soon enough girl. I’ll be able to smell it on you. There’s nothing you can keep from me.”

I shiver, now even more creeped out and horrified than before. I curl in and stop talking. So many questions live in my head, but I’m too afraid to ask them. I’m scared of the answers. His next words terrify me further still.

“You look just like your mother.”

I retreat into myself and say nothing else as the night drags on.

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