Prologue
Now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray the Lord my soul to keep;
If I should die before I wake,
I pray the Lord my soul to take.
Amen
It’s dark. It’s always dark when bad things happen. But I close my eyes and pray. Mommy says praying is good, and the man in the clouds will look after me. So, I do it every night. It’s cold tonight, and I don’t know when Mommy will come home. I know I’ll hear her when the door opens and closes. She’s loud sometimes. She talks to her friends.
There are always other people in our house as well. They give Mommy and my stepdaddy happy juice to make them smile. I like when my mommy smiles. Daddy, who is actually my stepdad, promised to take me to the park today, but he didn’t come home yet. It’s dark out since it’s bedtime. Maybe we’ll go tomorrow.
I don’t understand grownups. They’re confusing when they say one thing and do another. I thought they had to keep their promises, to do things they said they’d do. But they don’t.
My friend at school promises to bring me candy, and she always does. Maybe when you grow up, you don’t have to keep promises, but I don’t like that. It’s rude. I will always keep mine, even when I’m older.
Rolling over, I hold Torrance, my teddy bear. He’s squished in my arms, but even with his fur, he doesn’t help the cold go away. I wonder if Mommy turned the heating off. I should go look.
Normally, when Mommy and Daddy have friends over, I don’t leave my room. She told me not to ever open my door when she has them here, and I’ve obeyed. But it’s cold. Very cold.
Shoving the blankets off me, I stand and head to my bedroom door. It’s so quiet, I figure it’s safe to walk into the living room where the switches for the heating are.
With a creak, I open my bedroom door and pad into the messy living room where there are two sofas, an armchair that Daddy likes to sit in, and a table with bottles and glasses still on it from two nights ago.
A soft sound startles me, coming from Mommy and Daddy’s room. Confusion swirls in my sleepy mind, wondering what that noise could be since Mommy hasn't come home yet. At least, I don't think she did? I make my way through the living room and down the hall to where their room is. The door is open, just a crack, and I peek through the space.
There are candles on the vanity and a large mirror overlooking the bed. I watch as a woman with dark hair sits on her knees. Her eyes are blindfolded and her breasts are bouncy. She looks like she’s smiling. Mommy is sitting in a chair, her eyes on the woman, and then another body appears.
Daddy is home, too, he's under the woman. He’s naked, his chest is hairy, and his stomach is fat, squishing itself against the pretty woman. She looks like my babysitter, the girl who lives down the road.
Her hands are tied behind her back, and Daddy is telling her things. He's saying words I’m not allowed to use. My eyes widen when I see Mommy move behind the girl. She has something in her hand, I can’t tell what it is until she moves her arm, and that’s when the candlelight shines on something metal.
Suddenly, there’s blood everywhere. My hand flies to my mouth, holding in the scream that’s bobbing in my throat. The scene is blurry, I’m crying. I feel the wetness of the tears streaking down my cheeks.
Daddy smiles at Mommy. He tells her she’s good. He tells her other nasty words too. Things only adults say.
I turn and race back to my bedroom, shutting the door so they don’t realize I saw them. I’m under the blankets, clutching onto Torrance when I hear my bedroom door click open.
“She’s asleep,” Mommy’s voice whispers.
“I must've imagined her there,” Daddy says, also in a hushed tone. “We better get cleaned up, my dick is still hard, and I want to finish inside that whore.”
My eyes are shut so tight, white blinks behind my lids as if there are lights flashing on and off. A click of the door sounds so loud, it booms in my ears. My chest aches as my heart attacks my ribs.
I lie in bed silently and pray. I pray like I’ve never prayed before.
I want to be good.
I want to go to Heaven.
But after what I saw, I don’t know if I’ll ever be let in.
Kahn
Our Father, Who Art in Heaven
The rain splatters from the heavy clouds as I watch her, Maeve Bianchi. Long dark hair hangs down her back, reaching her tailbone. She’s dressed in black again. Part of the uniform, I suppose. I ponder this for a moment before I edge closer. Sweet perfume wafts from her, and it makes my mouth water. I think about what it would take to grab her right now and steal her away. I could take her to the place I’ve lived all my life. She’d fit in perfectly.
I’m close.
Almost there.
But then she stops and glances over her shoulder, forcing me to slip back into the shadows. It’s been a few months since I started following her. It started after our first kiss. I'd come here to find her, and I definitely did. She'd been leaving the convent grounds, jogging toward the park, and I couldn’t stop my feet from tracing her steps.
I wonder why she’s allowed off the grounds, how she’s able to do as she wishes when the other girls are locked up tight.
Since I first laid my eyes on her, I've had this innate reaction to her. As if she has tethered me to her and is tugging me along. Each time I get near, I lose my nerve. I’ve never been afraid of a woman before, but there’s something about her. Something dark that resides inside her. It’s etched in the ink that adorns her ribs. A large tree of life, but with a macabre twist. There are skeletons and ghouls under the tree, with a rosary slung around the branches.
She moves faster down the road, and I wonder if she spotted me. I doubt she’d still be walking; she’d certainly be running if she had. I shouldn’t do this, but I’m in too deep now. My phone vibrates in my pocket, thankfully I’ve had it on silent since I perched myself across the road from the convent.
I don’t pull it out now. I’m too close to her to even consider taking a fucking call. It stops and restarts. Frustration burns through every fiber of my being. I want to keep going. I need to. But I know if I don’t answer this call there’ll be hell to pay.
I pull out my cell. Swiping my thumb along the screen, the facial recognition unlocks the device and I press the phone to my ear.
“What?”
“Well, hello to you too,” Fletcher’s voice comes through the line. My partner is an asshole. I call him a partner, but he’s more like a fuckin’ lackey at this point. Working for the big man upstairs isn’t easy, and I know he’s wanting to get out into the field with me.
“You’ve just fucked up my mark,” I bite out in evident frustration at the interruption, earning me a chuckle in response. Asshole.
“That pretty piece of ass you’ve been jerking off to? You know she’s married to the cross, right?” Another guffaw from him makes my hackles rise. I’ve told him she’s special. There’s something about her, and I need her to join us.
“Fuck off, man. What do you want?” I grit out, tugging my packet of smokes from the inner pocket of my leather jacket. Popping one between my lips, I flick the lighter and inhale a lungful of calming smoke.