Prologue: Behind the Masks
MAGDALENA
7 YEARS OLD
I had a secret I kept to myself all my life.
There had always been something not quite right about me. The thoughts that ran through my mind were sometimes not my own, as if an evil I was constantly on the brink of losing control over lingered inside me. It was dark and terrified me. Although I couldn’t define it, eventually, I learnedthatdarkness was pure madness.
Because of it, I’d lost everything, many times.
Not only was I scared that one day I would act on my thoughts, or that I already unknowingly had, but how could anyone really love me once they discovered who I truly was?
They say children are the light, but all I saw and felt was more and more darkness. It numbed me, made me care less and less about everyone around me, consuming me without my knowledge.While I tried to cling to the good of everything, it slowly slipped away like dry sand on a windy day.
In my first school, I made no friends. The subjects most kids spoke about were boring, stupid, and superficial. Of course, at the time, I hadn’t known those words, but it was what I’d sensed.I saw the cliques from miles away and rejected them. Deep down, best friends envied each other and waited for the moment to back stab one another.The patterns stood out to me; the hypocritical way people interacted with each other, like teachers always favoring the richest, most-attractive students, not the smartest or sweetest. Yet, they swore they cared about all of us and that they were fair.
It was amazing how people were willing to pretend just to maintain their fake lives, even if they were unhappy. Daddy had always pretended Aunt Mindy’s, Mom’s best friend, presence didn’t bother him. Every year, he’d buy her family tickets to visit us, and Mom would have the time of her life. It had been obvious to me there were many things Mom was hiding from Aunt Mindy, even though they acted like sisters. Aunt Mindy’s sweet and positive personality always made me curious if it was a façade. I couldn’t figure it out. Did she really see the world like that? Did she really believe most people were good and that everything would be okay? Or was she also hiding the truth?
Dad hardly spoke when Aunt Mindy and Uncle Fernando visited. I saw the anger boiling in Dad’s eyes as Mom enjoyed life with someone other than him. He’d only come back alive once they left. The relief was crystal clear.
Mom had always pretended she wasn’t scared of Dad and me.
She loved me and definitely loved Dad, but sometimes I’d catch her, the way she looked at us… as if we were strangers, something of our own kind, not human. In those brief moments, the spell would break when she’d blink away but the smell of fear would remain in the space between us. There was a part of me who enjoyed feeling like a predator with my own mother. What I didn’t like was that it made me pity her, so I pushed away the enjoyment, prioritizing her love for me.
The school assignments had been too easy for me, so I spent a lot of time watching people, playing a game. How long wouldit take before I figured out what was behind their masks, their lies, and what they really wanted? Usually, it only took seconds. After I figured everyone out and even confirmed my suspicions by tricking some, school became boring.
One night, I couldn’t sleep, so I lain in bed, listening to my heartbeat. After a few hours, I’d heard Dad screaming. It was so loud and full of pain that I almost ran to their bedroom, but then Mom woke him, and they talked for hours. I later realized it wasn’t rare. Mom had to comfort him back to sanity many nights. It explained why she was always so tired during the day. His nightmares had been about his childhood, horrible memories he’d repressed, and somehow because of me, they’d resurfaced. Grandma had beat him, locked him in the basement, and allowed men to touch and abuse him. When I realized Daddy was having these dreams because of me, I tried to be extra nice and helpful around the house, but nothing I did was enough to make them go away.
How could Grandma never love Daddy?That was when I realized society had lied to me about yet another thing. A parent’s love was not limitless; it could disappear in the blink of an eye.Had she found out he had dark thoughts too?
Poor Daddy. Since he was so tall and strong, it was difficult for me to believe he’d once been a helpless young boy. It wasn’t like he had pictures of himself as a kid either. Sometimes, he’d hold my hand too tight on the way home from school and I had to bring him back to the present.He was my best friend. Because I knew Daddy and I were the same, I felt honored to help him, to remind him how strong we were and that we were safe.
Grandma was the first person I ever hated. The things she’d done to him made me so angry I often wished she wasn’t dead so I could kill her myself. It became my lullaby to fall asleep to—envisioning a painful death for her.
Despite his darkness, all I saw behind Dad’s mask was pain, and love for Mommy and me. He made us feel like we were the center of the world. I always wished to have a love like theirs. Behind Mom’s mask was a need to be loved, and deep, suffocating fear. I didn’t know where that fear came from, but I wished to never feel it.
Mom had always excused Grandma’s behavior by saying she had to have been sick or crazy, that there was no other explanation. I’d often wondered if the darkness I carried and sensed everywhere was the same one that drove Grandma to treat Daddy so horribly. I’d also wondered if Mommy gave me that fearful look because deep down, she knew the monster her precious, perfect little girl was.
1. First Day In A New Life
MAGDALENA
SEVEN YEARS OLD
I’d never forget my first day in the new private school. There was no way for me to know it then, but it had been the first day in a new life, an oh-so-sweet and -delicious life filled with love and laughter and innocence as boundless as the oceans. One that would end too quickly and get me through many dark years.
I was hoping that somehow the change in environment and people would have a positive effect on me. That I would like the new students so much I wouldn’t need to play the game to see what was behind their masks. I’d wished they had no masks. We lived near the school, so Dad and I could simply walk there. I think he could tell I was anxious. On the way, Dad teased that maybe all the students would be smelly skunks. “Would you be best friends with smelly skunks?” he kept joking.
I looked up at his smiling face, the sun in my eyes and the wind blowing my hair, and pulled on his arms.“Come on, Daddy.”
“Okay, not smelly skunks, but maybe aliens.”
“You’re so silly, Daddy.”
Since the school was named after the patron saint of children, St. Nicholas, I’d thought there would be decorations of Santa everywhere. Unfortunately, it didn’t look like some Christmas school, it was kind of creepy. It was an old Gothic building, with long, thin stairs at the front and towers on either side of the entrance—all made of stone, and a perfectly manicured lawn. At the center top there was a big flower shaped stain glass window, like some church. I liked that our school was the only one in Monaco to have gargoyles to protect us from evil spirits. At the walkway to the entrance, Dad kneeled and pulled me back to him. “Hey, angel.” He readjusted the Peter Pan collar of my blouse. “I just want you to know, no matter what or who is in there…” He turned his head to face the school, then looked back to me. “Maybe just give them a chance, you know?”
I nodded.Yes, Daddy. I’ll be better. I promise.I’ll fight the darkness more. I won’t look for it in others.
