***
Cold.
Ice, ice cold.
The room gave off that dull, blue atmosphere like coloring,
and the rain outside flew down from the sky like pellets of ice. Kaycee lay
bundled up in her single quilted blanket, her insides shivering intensely.
Of course
the stupid heater doesn’t work. I swear Greg didn’t have it fixed just to
torment me on nights like this when he isn’t home to do it himself.
Gathering as much will power as anyone could get on a
freezing Sunday morning, Kaycee hopped out of bed, her holey socks slipping
against the frozen floor. With her blanket wrapped around her, she made a dash
for the attic door, clomping down the steps and ran to the tiny family room
where a unlit fireplace sat.
Deep down, Kaycee knew that her father would be furious if
he found out she had used any of the coal that sat in the tin bucket next to
the fireplace, to light a fire. But it was so cold, she couldn’t help herself.
Lighting the fire, she sat down in front of it, her blanket
still wrapped around her shoulders as she attempted to warm herself. She
listened to the rain pounding against the window panes, covering whatever was
going on outside.
Except the sound of a truck.
Or, more specifically, a jeep.
Kaycee’s heart jumped inside her chest as she began to
panic. She had to get rid of the fire before her step-father came in and found
her using a few pieces of coal to warm herself with. He would beat her, or
worse, kill her. He had always been
overly strict about these things. His rules had become crystal clear to Kaycee
over the months.
Don’t cook anything unless Greg tells her to.
Don’t use the coal.
Don’t touch anything.
Don’t mess up anything.
Don’t mention her mother.
Don’t bother Greg at all; she wasn’t worth his time.
Without a second thought, she laid her blanket out below the
fireplace and then ran to grab a quick cup of water. Kaycee dumped the little
water she had time to get onto the fire, it sizzling in protest, but giving in
to the fire killing poison. Then, in a rush, she took her hand and swiped the
still burning-red coals into her one and only blanket, ignoring the stinging of
pain her hand experienced.
As fast as she could, Kaycee pushed open the back window and
threw out the burnt blanked and red hot coals into the chilly rain, then left
the window open to let the smell of fire out.
Please, please Greg…don’t be observant…
If only Kaycee had so much luck.
“Was that smoke I
saw coming out of that chimney?” Gregory bellowed, swinging open the front
door.
Kaycee jumped, backing up until she felt the rough wall
press up against her back. She didn’t dare speak, for she knew that whatever
she said couldn’t save her from the fate she would soon come face to face with.
Or, more like face to fist.
Whatever she could or would say, wouldn’t help her case.
Nothing could save her now. Anything, any slight movement from her or anything
else for that matter, could make whatever was about to happen ten times worse.
Gregory stormed across the kitchen and into the living room;
within seconds he was just a few feet away from her. “Were you burning coal, Kaycee?”
Unintentionally, Kaycee shook her head and immediately
regretted it.
Smack!
The slap sound rang throughout the little cottage, or maybe
it was just in her head. Her left cheek burnt from the contact of his hand, and
her neck hurt from the impact.
“What do you have to say for yourself?” he shouted in her
face, spit flying everywhere.
“I-I was cold,” Kaycee hardly recognized her own voice. It
was so small and inferior, sounding almost like a quiet squeak coming from a
mouse.
Gregory chuckled darkly, “Oh? You were cold? Well that
changes everything.”
Kaycee peered up from behind strands of her hair, confused
at his remark. But she was only met with a dark stare and a rough shove. The
back of her head smacking against the stone walls.
“Don’t make up stupid excuses for your stupid mistakes. You
are just as pathetic as your mother,” her step-father growled out. He had her
pressed up against the wall, towering over her in rage. His hands braced
against the wall behind her, acting as some sort of cage she couldn’t escape
from.
She felt trapped.
She felt betrayed.
She always knew something was off about Gregory, but she
never knew that her step-father could be so…
Evil.
Kaycee’s legs wobbled beneath her, as if suddenly they had
become two, too thin branches from baby trees, trying to support the leaves and
branches of a full grown cherry tree.
“Please…” her voice could hardly be heard over the pounding
of the rain and the heavy breathing of the man that stood over her.
“Begging? Even
more pathetic than I thought,” Gregory spit in her face. “Get out of this
house; leave. And don’t you dare come
back around me.” Taking a hold of Kaycee by her hair, he yanked her away from
the wall and shoved her towards the door.
Tears streaming down her face, Kaycee whimpered in pain,
“W-why? Why are you doing this?”
“Because I wasn’t supposed to be stuck with you!” Gregory
yanked her to a halt. “I got rid of your mother, Freddy was already going to
college, and you? After that little depression faze you went through before we
moved, I hoped you would rid myself of you, yourself. Sadly, I was wrong. So
I’m doing it myself, as easily as possible.
“If I were you, I’d leave while you still have the chance.
Or do you want to end up just like your mother?” he growled down at her, like a
beast ready to attack his prey.
Kaycee’s eyes widened at every word that leaked like poison
from his mouth, her body shaking in fear.
Before she could think twice about anything at all, she
yanked herself free from her step-fathers hold, and darted out the door.
Praying that she could find some freedom from him in the
dense solitude of the woods around her.
Little did she know, she would find much more than freedom.
Running as fast as her legs could manage, Kaycee propelled
herself through the trees, twigs and branches whipping her legs and face. She
held her hands over her face as she ran deeper and deeper into the word, the
warnings and stories of a ferocious monster that had been told to her by the
villagers, not even crossing her mind.
She had to get away.
She had to keep running.
She had to.
When her lungs just couldn’t handle the heavy breathing any
longer, Kaycee came to a stop, leaning against the moist trunk of a tree as she
gasped out in attempts to catch her breath.
Beads of sweat dripped down her forehead as her hand
clutched at her throbbing chest. Her heart pounded in her neck as the flowing
of blood filled her ears like the deafening sound of water rushing down a
river.
Kaycee’s hunched posture quickly straightened up as she
realized that the rushing of blood wasn’t just in her mind. Somewhere close,
she heard the swooshing sound of
intense running water.
Somewhere close, there was a river.
On shaky legs, she used her hand that rested against the
tree trunk to push her forward in the direction of the running water. Wiping
away the pointed branches of the bushes and trees around her, a large river was
revealed to her. Its crystal water flowing rapidly, circling around heavy
boulders that sat planted in the middle of the river.
With a sigh of mixed exhaustion and relief, Kaycee dropped
to her knees and cupped her hands, welcoming the freezing water to her lips.
After a few moments of basking in the refreshing feel of cold water running
down her throat, she leaned back in the mud and grass, and looked up through
the clearing of the trees to see the almost black clouds hovering low above
her.
Her eyes traveled slowly from the black clouds, down to the
view in front of her, her breath catching at what she saw.
A beautiful, yet dark mansion of grey and dusty white marble
and stone filled her vision from the sky to the ground. Its angles sloping this
way and that; the magnificent architecture like none she had ever seen before,
not even in the books she read continuously. It was nothing anyone could dream
up to paint or draw, and no words could ever describe the dark and almost
painful vibe that radiated from its walls.
With gargoyles perched on the tops of the pillars of stones,
their faces fierce and ugly, yet so mysterious and tortured that they could
almost be described as beautiful. A marvelous gate of iron surrounding the
grand building, pointed arrows giving off the sense of power and protection, its
dangerous feel making it obvious that any visitors were, plain and simple,
unwelcomed.
The mansion gave off the atmosphere of mystery and chance,
stirring something up of curiosity within Kaycee.
She had to get closer.
She had to know what lay within those threatening walls of
stone.
She had to, and she would.
Spotting a broken bridge yards down the river laying there,
stable enough for just one more person to cross, as if it was waiting just for
her. Kaycee took a deep breath, and approached the rickety old thing.
A great roll of thunder shook her to the core, as she faced
the challenge head on. Just as she placed her foot on the rotting wood for her
first step, a flash of lightning and another clash of thunder sounded as
warning.
A part of her wanted to turn back, but her old self, the
girl she was before her mother died, wouldn’t let her. Something whooshed
passed her, making her look up from the spot she had been staring at on the
wood.
A familiar speckled blue bird whistled at her from its spot
perched on a branch on the other side of the bride, distracting here for a mere
second. It was that quick loss of concentration that caused Kaycee to lose her
footing and slip down into the freezing cold, rapid waters.
***
Thanks for reading!
