8

The day of my fake runaway has arrived. Two days before the next pick up, just as planned. These passed few days have gone by painfully slow though. After that wretched Beast destroyed my 'Miracle' music box, my beloved radio, the house has been silent. As quiet as a morgue, and that's how I've felt- dead. I haven't even been bothering to do my chores, there is absolutely no point to any of it. I barely speak to The Beast, and I haven't seen Ms. Carlyle in days. He hasn't even taken me into his room the last two nights. Part of me feels I should be suspicious, but I'm too frightened to harbor any thoughts of him possibly knowing my intentions. I've come too close and worked too hard to let him ruin this. I'll just have to be especially stealthy and cover all my tracks.

My depression over the destroyed radio consumes only half of my emotions. The other half are overjoyed and extremely nervous for the mission at hand. I've planned and dreamed of this happening for six years. I've packed light; a couple of dresses (I've outgrown most of them anyway. Plus, Billy said he'd buy me new ones that fit when we get to New Orleans), and some books to occupy my time.

I decide to leave in the dead of the night, when I'm sure he's passed out; when I hear his gorilla grunts and snores vibrating down the hall. I grab a blanket from the living-room and stop in the kitchen to pack some food in order to survive the next two days. I normally would be fine, I don't eat much anyway, but I have more than myself to worry about now. I take one last look around me. The darkened living-room through the door where I sat and mended or read and the kitchen. I look around the room that I spent the majority of my time, cleaning and cooking for The Beast and I realize I won't miss any of it one bit. It's not the home it was with mother; this house is a prison and I'm finally escaping it's confines. I lightly shut the door and creep into the darkness.

My plan is to camp far out on the edge of the cotton field until it's time to meet Billy at the shack. When The Beast wakes and sees I'm gone he's going to search this farm high and low, the shack will be near top of the list of places to check. I'll be hidden in the brush and will stay there for the two days.

As I approach the field and make my way through, my dress gets snagged every few feet on the brush at my feet. I reach the end, the property line between our farm and the neighbors. I'm over a mile away from the house, but it's still not far enough. It won't be far enough until I'm out of Paradis and into the city. I find a semi-clear spot and remove it of rocks and twigs until it's camp-able, then I lay my blanket out to make myself a bed. I use my bundle of clothes as a pillow, lay down and stare up at the night sky. It's a clear night with a full moon. I wouldn't have found my way so well and so quickly if it hadn't been for the moon and stars lighting the path for me. And now with the earth to my back and eyes fixed to the sky, I thank the bright moon and her many accomplices, the shining stars. With a smile lingering on my lips, I slowly drift off to sleep.

* * *

My mother is standing over me, holding my hand. Her storm cloud eyes gaze into mine, almost through me, and though her lips don't seem to move I hear her say:

'Push! Push sweet girl!'

I'm on my back and when I look down I see Billy between my legs. His big, brown, doe eyes are sparkling like stars in the sky and his smile's as luminous as the moon.

'You can do it doll,' he urges.

I look around and realize I'm in the shack, but it's all fixed up and has a roof. I observe my surroundings and admire the coziness of the humble shed. Then I look back up at my mother, she's so beautiful. She squeezes my hand again. She commands:

'Push!'

I feel something start to come out of me, so I do push. I push with every ounce of strength that I have, then I push some more.

'I see it's head,' Billy squeals. He's as excited as a child on Christmas morning. 'Oh my, he's got a lot of hair for a newborn,' he continues. But just then his smile twists into a face of horror.

'What is it!?' I scream while still pushing somehow.

He doesn't answer but just begins to walk backwards in fright. The whole room seems to darken and dim. I turn to my mother.

'Mother, I'm scared. What's happening?' but as I look around I see she is gone, nowhere to be found. In my hand she was holding is the spare apron from the cafe.

'Mother!?!' I scream from confusion as well as pain. Something is ripping and tearing out of me. I scream even louder still, I scream until nothing more will come out of my lungs. Through my screams I peer over at Billy who has his back to the wall, his face like a prey's facing it's predator. From out of my body a figure emerges. Where an infant should be, a tall dark and sinister man is in its place. He turns around to face me, but I know who it is before his all too familiar eyes lock with mine. There's a pool of blood around me and I feel myself slipping away. He holds up a large brass candlestick and begins to cackle. The last thing I see before my visions blurs and eyes flutter to a close is the black abyss of his eyes.

* * *

I'm lurched out of sleep and begin to pant as if I were being suffocated. My lungs are in such a state of panic, the only air they can manage to bring into my body are in short, shallow breaths. I'm almost choking, for the breaths are coming in and out so quickly. My dress is soaking wet, did it rain? I realize it's sweat, my dress is soaked in sweat and my face is dripping. My breaths finally start to deepen and decrease in speed. I look around me. I'm still in the field. The sky has barely started its color transformation from black to blue, currently an eerie purple and I understand that dawn is breaking. I don't notice or hear anybody so I lay back down. My mother's apron, I left it under my mattress! The dream reminded me, but how could I forget?! It's the only thing from that hell that means anything to me at all, and I left it there. A souvenir of the only time I ever actually cooked in the cafe, but also the day I met Billy. The first day my life genuinely began to go somewhere. It represents my past and my future, and I forgot it. I rubbed my belly, closed my eyes and tried to forget my stupidity.

I couldn't have been asleep longer than a few hours, since I left the house so late, and yet I'm wide awake. My body shivers from the cold wind attacking the wet clothes, and I wish I would have brought more than one blanket. I pull the quilt around me and roll myself up in it as if I were a caterpillar creating its cocoon. I picture myself emerging with wings and fly to my escape. Just as I finally start to get warm and almost doze off again, a wave of nausea pulls me out of my comfort and into a bush to get sick. I crouch there and wait for my stomach to empty. After a few goes, I feel the nausea wave start to recede; so I wipe my mouth and curl back into my blanket cocoon. As I finally begin to fade into sleep, I pray to whoever is listening that the horrid nightmare doesn't return.