Chapter 1

Pull the blinds. Shut the curtains. Come away from the window, darling. Bar the doors. Turn off the lights. Come here. He can’t hurt you here in my arms.

Who mommy?

The monster sweetie. He’s coming.

 

The little girl does as her mother says. She covers her eyes when she’s scared and burrows herself further in her mother’s arms.

 

But those arms can’t protect the little girl from herself.

 

She grows up hidden away, protected, but her curiosity flourishes. Part of her fills with fear, afraid of every shadow that lurks in the night. But part of her is alive and curious. As she grows, so does her courage.

 

One night, she waits until her mother is asleep and pries herself from her warm arms. She stands in front of the gorgeous, heavy, red curtain, but she can’t force herself to move it. For a week, this is how it goes. The girl stands there and stares at the curtain, willing it to move without having to touch it. On the sixth day, the girl finally musters up the courage to pull away the curtain. What she sees shocks her.

 

Just gorgeous light blue eyes staring back at her.

 

She shuts the curtain quickly, trying to block the memory of the prying eyes from her mind.

 

For days, she leaves the curtain alone. She stays tucked away in her mother’s bed, never leaving her side. The fear is back, telling her to stay away from whatever beast holds such startlingly brilliant eyes. But still, the curiosity nags in the corner of her soul. Who is this thing? What does it want? Eventually, she can no longer silence these questions.

 

The first night, she just pulls back the curtain and stares at it, trying to make out more of his figure, trying to see what lurks in the darkness. Yet still, all she sees is the eyes.

 

The second night, she walks to the door instead of the curtain. After about ten minutes of internal conflict, she lifts one hand to the doorknob and the other to the crack of the door to stop the squeak that is sure to follow. The second the cold hits her body, the eyes turn to face her. This time, she can see the creature a bit better. In fact, she realizes that he is not a creature at all, but a boy, about the same age as herself.

 

            You’re the beast that my mother warns me of every night?

 

He does not defend himself, just offers his hand. She shakes her head, and turns to head back inside, but before she does, she asks the beast a question.

            What shall I call you?

            Why does it matter?

 

His voice is rich and sweet, like butter spread over bread. Instantly, the girl knows she will believe anything that comes from that mouth.

 

            Well, it seems that you know who I am, yet I know nothing about you.

 

At this, he smiles, just for a moment.

 

            Annie, you can call me Michael.

 

The girl is surprised that he Michael knows her name, and then remembers that he probably knows much more. The thought doesn’t sit well with her, so she just brushes it off. She nods her head and once again goes to leave.

 

            Will you be visiting again?

 

A smile creeps to her lips before she can stop it. The girl knows he is dangerous, yet she cannot help but find the thrill and excitement she yearns in this mysterious man.

 

            Yes, I believe I will.

 

Once inside, the girl counts to sixty, then pulls the dark red curtain back again. Instead of the familiar blue eyes, she finds only darkness. She runs to the porch, surprised to find that her visitor has vanished.

 

That night she dreams she is following a lantern that casts off a bluish light. But following it where, she does not know.

°°°

So many people fear this man, yet she cannot seem to find the reasons. They meet outside every night, never venturing far beyond where the dim porch light shines. Despite both being of age, he never touches her, he seems afraid to, as if, even here, his motives and intentions are being judged. But she never second-guesses him, she’s too trusting, too naïve, too… well, she can’t seem to place the feelings that stir in her heart yet, but soon she will understand. Soon she will see what he already knows.

 

Why do you come here every night?

            To see you.

 

His answers are always so simple, and once stated, they seem so obvious. He never gives more information than needed; yet she never feels as though he’s keeping things from her. They can talk for hours and still never know each other.  To her, that’s the scariest, and most exhilarating thing of all. Here, in the dim light that reminds her of her upbringing, she can be anything she desires.

 

And so can he.

 

°°° 

            They say you can die of a broken heart.

 

The statement is said so plainly, so bluntly, that it takes her a second to realize what he has said.

 

            Who are they?

            Oh you know, just they. Just the people that make up the rules here.

            And what would some of those rules be?

 

Tonight, for some unexplained reason, her heart starts to beat faster. Tonight, his eyes seem even bluer than usual. Tonight, the darkness does not hold fear, but promise.

 

            Everyone knows the rules.

            Well, I don’t.

            It’s hard to explain.

            Well, try.

 

He sighs, and lies down on the grass. He is silent for so long that she wonders if he has somehow fallen asleep. And then, in a quiet voice, he speaks.

 

The rules are pretty simple, and they’ve been around forever. Sometimes, people think that they change, but really, they don’t. You just have to choose if you believe them or not.

 

He grabs her hand, the first time he’s touched her since they met. She swears her heart stops.

 

Don’t trust. Don’t get your heart broken. Get what you want and leave. Love is a fantasy. Love is a lie. Sex is all there is. Everyone will hurt you. Everyone is a monster.

 

She stares into his eyes and sees his soul.

           

            I refuse to believe any of that.

 

He smiles, the first real smile she’s seen since they met.

 

            I was hoping you’d say that.

 

Quickly, the smile falls from his face.

            The people here say I’m a monster, you know.

            But you’re not.

How do you know? You don’t know who I am. You don’t know what I’ve done; you don’t know what I’ll do to you.

 

And because she has no answer for that, because his words unnerve her deep in her core, she kisses him, just lightly, on the lips.

 

            What was that for?

To remind you that sometimes, you have to stop asking questions and choose to break the rules.