Page 1

Cain, Age 10

Chapter 1

“Dad, no!” Momma grabs my arm as I lunge forward, pulling me back to wrap her arms around me.

“Alistair! Stop!” Momma roars over me.

“She’s too old to move on from this, Rory.” My stomach tightens, doubling me over, as Alistair steps up to my horse. I pull against my mom, and she tightens her grip on me.

“Then call the vet! At least let me—"

Bang!

My eyes are nearly swollen shut, my cheeks raw from the layer of salt left behind from my tears. What’s worse is the constant ringing in my ears, a reminder of the gunshot that took away my Treasure.

Dad isn’t who I thought he was… He’s strict; he takes things away he thinks I’m too old for. Like the doll Aunt Cora made for me. He never wanted me to have that in the first place. I’m always hearing him and Momma fighting after I’m supposed to be asleep, but I never thought he would hurt me like this… I never thought he would take away a life like that. No amount of begging stopped him from taking away the horse I had been with since I was a baby.

He didn’t even flinch.

Dads shouldn’t do that…

Maybe he shouldn’t be Dad to me.

He’s just Alistair.

My door opens with 3 distinctive loud creaks. I tug the blankets tighter around me, the pressure so hard it might tear from the seams. Whether it’s Momma or Alistair, I don’t want to see either of them right now.

“Go away,” my voice comes out in a hoarse croak. The door creaks closed, followed by steps. Flinging the blankets away from me, I jump to my seat. “I said, go—" I freeze; it’s Violet. She’s cute, a couple of years younger than me. Her long blonde hair is done up in two intricate braids; she’s wearing a brown dress with pink florals and carrying a plate of cookies. And she’s… Is she limping?

“Hi,” her voice, accompanied by her smile, softens my edges. Like when I move my thumb over charcoal lines. I can breathe a little deeper with her by my side. She always lights up the room; she always makes me feel better. Lifting her dress, she slides herself onto the bed, tucking her legs beneath her. Her sore foot pokes out, revealing a wrapped bandage. “I made you some cookies.” She holds the plate out to me, but I don’t take any. That’s when she goes ahead and grabs my hand, putting a cookie in it for me.

“What happened to your foot?” Bringing the cookie to my lips, I take a small bite, barely enough to get a taste. Violet’s smile falters, then she shakes her head.

“I was leading Penny into the stable to get ready for my lesson… She spooked.” Suddenly, even that minuscule bite was too much for the nausea tormenting my insides. She was in the barn when it happened. Penny spooked at the gunshot. Violet’s injury isn’t Penny’s fault; Alistair is the one who hurt Violet today. “My Mum taught me to make these when I needed to feel better… Have some more.”

“My Dad doesn’t let me have food in my room.”

“Oh, well, I’ll stay with you until you’re done! Then if he comes in, we can say it’s mine.”

“I don’t want you to take his anger for me.” I brush my lips over the rim of the cookie before taking another bite. I don’t have much of a sweet tooth, but her returning smile makes it worth it.

“I don’t mind… My Uncle gets angry a lot since my Papa died. Sometimes he’s so big and loud that I hide in the cupboard my Mum made for me. You don’t have a cupboard here, so I’ll be your cupboard. I’ll make you a safe space.” She takes another cookie and stacks it right on top of the first. “And if you ever need a good place to hide, you can borrow mine; it’s in my closet.”

She spends the next hour talking about her garden, the sheep that were born in the past few weeks, what my mom has been teaching her to sew, and how she will be starting voice lessons with Ms. Sterling. And while I listen to her melodic voice, I actually find myself drifting off, finally relaxing enough to sleep my sorrows away. I rest my head on the pillow and close my eyes. I feel her fingers slip what’s left of the cookie from my grasp, and it taps back down onto the plate.

Alistair takes away the things that mean the most to me…

I can’t let Violet mean anything to me.

Violet, Age 12

Chapter 2

Heaving in a breath, I am jolted from my sleep. That’s happened three times now; it’s like my body forgets to breathe when I’m finally in deep enough sleep to get some real rest. Or maybe it’s that I can’t breathe anymore. It’s pitch dark here in my little cupboard; I’m not exactly sure how long I’ve been in here… All I know is that I’ve never stayed inside this long. I could step out; maybe Uncle has calmed down since dinner? Maybe he won’t do the same thing to me that he did to my mother. Although there was that second pill… When he held her nose and mouth until she swallowed, I jumped up to help her, but she told me to run.

With a trembling hand, I reach for the handle, only to let it fall back into my lap. Even if he has calmed down from whatever the problem was at dinner, running away will set him off again. So, this is it, I’ll stay.

I lift the water bottle in hopes that it’s miraculously refilled itself, and I’m again disappointed when not a drop touches my parched tongue or soothes my dry lips. There’s not even enough saliva to soothe the scaling, flaking skin. Just focus on the lights. Some time ago, I started to see lights. Beautiful swirls of vibrant colors dancing across the blackness in front of me. It’s nice to have something beautiful when I’m feeling this way. My stomach gnaws away at itself, forcing me to curl into a tight ball. There’s not much room in here anyway.