PART 1
THE PAST
“The Scariest monsters are the ones that lurk within our souls…”
Edgar Allan Poe
ONE
VIC
16 Years Old
“Do you want to go over it one more time?”
I look up expectantly at Dani, studying her as her eyes dart over the diagram of the class handout, ping-ponging between it and her notes for our exam tomorrow. She bites her bottom lip and pulls it into her mouth like she always does when she’s thinking hard about something, as I wait for her to answer me. Her head tilts side to side with indecision. This shit comes easy to me, but I know she struggles sometimes, and if I can do anything to make her life easier, I will. She makes my messed-up life better. More than she can ever know.
“Just give me a sec,” she murmurs as she continues to peruse the paper. I nod, but I’m already leaning forward. I’m drawn to her like a sunflower is to the sun, turning toward her, always inching closer.
We’ve been out here for an hour, and I have done everything in my power to keep my hands off her because I know that she needs to make a good grade on this exam, but damn it’shard. A breeze stirs the air, bringing with it the scent of coconut from her bath gel and the undertones of her freshly laundered clothing. Her dark brown loose curls lift, brushing gently across her cheeks like the breeze’s phantom fingers caressing her face. I inhale deeply, memorizing the smells that are inherently hers, wishing I could stay like this, but I know that it will be short-lived. He’ll be home soon, destroying everything good in my life and crushing my hopes and dreams, making me want to rearrange his half of my DNA.
From the moment she moved in next door, my miserable existence was transformed into a glimmer of hope. I watched from my window as she helped her mom carry boxes inside. Her presence was larger than life, and when she looked up, she noticed someone in the window staring at her. She raised her hand to shield her eyes from the sun's rays, and that’s when she saw me. Our eyes met. Then she smiled, and it stirred something in me for the first time.
It was warm. It was inviting. It was an electric shock that ran through me, causing my heart to skip a beat, much like it did when I was anxious over something, but it wasn’t just a smile she gifted me with that day. It was the beginning of a beautiful type of bubbling madness within, and only she was my antidote.
Ever the gentleman, or at least I told myself that was the intention, I was eager enough to help out in the hopes of talking to her. From the first look, the first smile, I knew she would be my first love, too. I craved any excuse to know her better.
Even now, sitting beside her, I’m drawn to everything about Daniella Andrade. She mesmerizes me. Her presence is always at the forefront of my mind, clinging to the edges of my daytime thoughts and fading into the dimly-lit corners of my subconscious at night. Her soft, plump, pink lips, which form the perfect shape, have a way of undoing me. Whether they’re pursed in concentration or wrapped around a straw, theyremind me of all the unspeakable crimes they commit in my dreams that wake me up in the middle of the night, cuffed to my bed by a mess of sweaty sheets and longing. So many times I lie awake, gazing out the window to where her room is just across the lawn from mine, and it leaves me aching for something that is just barely out of reach.
Just as she is about to speak, the sharp slam of a car door next door breaks the spell, which causes my fantasies to crumble instantly. Dani’s eyes widen, snapping her head back to me in fear. I close my eyes, wishing he would just disappear from our lives, but that isn’t my reality.
“Shit!” I curse under my breath, not needing this right now. I snap my book closed and quickly shove my work into my backpack, trying to control the tremble that overtakes my hands.
“Maria!” My father's loud, harsh voice cuts through the air like the thick tension brewing between us. I know she’s afraid for me, so I try to downplay my worry. The memory of my mom shrinking beneath his insults striking just as profoundly as his fists. Dani reaches for me, and I flinch instinctively, already feeling his invisible reach for me.
Dani stands beside me, nervously rubbing her hands together. Is it with worry for my mom or me? My father is much bigger than I am. It leaves me feeling broken and powerless against him. But when his threats spew forth, most vicious especially when he’s drunk, his fury is all-consuming, leaving no trace of recognition in his eyes. In those moments, it’s as if he no longer sees you at all, or anyone—only his relentless pursuit to destroy everything in his path.
I fling my backpack over my shoulder, giving her a quick kiss on the lips. Before I can pull away, she cups my face between her hands, holding me there for more seconds than I can spare, but I grant her this moment of calm before the storm that awaits me next door. Placing her forehead against mine, she exhales, eyesclosed. I watch as her eyelids slowly flutter open as she whispers up at me, “Be careful, Victor.”
I guide her hands away, holding them briefly, giving them a quick, reassuring squeeze and half smile before I release them. I won't promise her that. Not when it comes to my mother. If I can take the blows instead of her, then it’s a small price to pay, so that she can stop hurting. Without looking back, I scurry away like a mouse, nimbly slipping through an opening in the fence between our houses, and disappear into the shadows that await.
TWO
VIC
16 Years Old
We were buried in our Anatomy and Physiology notes, studying for our exam, when my asshole of a father got home from work, shattering our peace. He’s good at that—causing chaos. I didn’t want to leave her. When she told me to be careful, it gutted me. So many times she’d play nurse, and not in the way I fantasized about. She helped patch me up. Tending to my battered and bruised body when I stepped in the path of my father’s fists. If it wasn’t me, then it would have been my mother. I'm not stronger than my father, but I am bigger than she is. I’ve learned to stand up for myself. To absorb the blows he deals out. I’m just not a big enough match for him yet, but one day I will be.
I slip along the side of the house, past the flaking paint and dying flowers my mom planted years ago. Left to wither among the weeds where nothing thrives. Boosting myself through the window, which I left partially open, I slide in quietly into my bedroom. I lift my bookbag over to the side, hitting the floorwith a loud thud. Just then, I hear my father’s sharp, accusing voice cut through my mother’s desperate pleas echoing from the kitchen. The sound freezes me in place.
The escalating argument jars me into action, reminding me to close the window. I look behind me and shut it, praying that no one calls the cops this time, but it doesn’t matter. Setting the latch in place, I see Dani across the way, her eyes stricken with worry. This isn’t the first time she’s witnessed this behavior from my father, which makes her concern for me all the more valid. She mouths a “Please,” and blows me a kiss, her hand lingering on the window pane like she can hold me there and keep me safe. Her earlier plea to be careful, left unsaid. I hold her stare and nod once without looking back. Then I walk toward the sound that will forever haunt my dreams—a blood-curdling scream.
I run toward the kitchen, with my heart beating rapidly, threatening to come out of my chest. As I round the corner, the first thing I see is blood. It’s a stark contrast to the black and white retro tiles lining the floor. My father stands frozen over my mother’s body, his expression is a mixture of shock and rage. His hands lay by his side, fists flexing and unflexing uncontrollably.
I run over to my mother, without thought for my safety, and see that she is still breathing. “Thank God. Thank God,” I murmur as I take in her shallow breaths, but she’s still alive. My father stands motionless, making no move to help. I shoulder past him, ignoring him, and call for help. The dispatcher’s calm, methodical voice comes over the line, asking questions about my situation. I manage to tell them that she's still breathing, but barely. But she needs help now. I know because I see it. The light fades from her eyes as her blood spreads beneath her, its warmth slipping away with her last breath. Dispatch says an ambulance is on the way, but it doesn’t matter. Because a quiet truth brews inside me, bubbling silent and merciless, but I push it down. I realize that it will be too late, and I can’t save her. My hope dies,and some part of me knows that this moment will forever change me.
I reluctantly release my mom, remembering all the times she kept me out of harm's way. Standing, I turn toward the cause of all our pain and suffering. “What happened?” I scream at my father as he stands there in a daze, still unmoving. He doesn’t acknowledge me. Then the wailing sound of approaching sirens and someone banging on the front door prompts a reaction from him now. He shifts, blinking as if waking from a dream, but this is no dream. It’s a nightmare I can’t escape, and I’m trapped in the final act of my own Shakespearean tragedy.
