Briar Rose

by Jana Oliver

  She climbed into her bed. When she found the pillows weren’t right, Briar added an extra one so she could sit up, not stare at the ceiling like a corpse.

  God, am I morbid. It was hard not to be.

  From downstairs came the mournful chimes of the antique mantel clock tolling the three-quarter hour. A coarse shiver rippled through her body.

  Fifteen minutes to go.

  After a tap on the door, Briar’s father and Reena entered the room. Her best friend’s eyes were swollen and she kept sniffling. Right behind them was Gran Lily, who looked like a wizened little doll with those all-seeing eyes.

  Lily took possession of Briar’s study chair, shuffling it round so that it sat next to the bed. ‘Good evenin’, child,’ she said as she settled into it.

  Briar sucked in a sharp breath. ‘Please – Lily, I don’t want to die! Isn’t there any way you can stop this?’

  ‘No, we can’t.’

  She detected something in Lily’s tone that sounded off, like the old woman was shading the truth. She had a million questions but she couldn’t quite form the words. ‘Am I going to throw up or my head spin round or something?’

  ‘No. Ya’ll just fall asleep. Reena and me are here to help ya cross over,’ she said in her thick South Georgia accent.

  Oh, man. What would it be like over . . . there? Would there be angels or devils? Briar really hadn’t given much thought to that.

  Lily nodded at her great-granddaughter, who began to pull items out of a grocery bag. Reena’s hands shook badly, her movements jerky as roots and herbs appeared one by one. The old woman began to place them round Briar.

  ‘What is all this?’

  ‘A little somethin’ to help ease ya over, girl,’ Lily replied.

  Reena gave her a satin pouch, a gris-gris bag.

  ‘What’s in this thing?’

  ‘Lemon balm and some . . . other things you don’t want to know about,’ her friend said. They stared at each for a time as things went on around them.

  ‘God, I can’t . . .’ Reena began.

  To see her friend so emotional was more than Briar could stand. She sat up on her elbows. ‘Why are you guys bothering? I mean, if I’m going to die, all this stuff . . .’ she said, gesturing at the bed, ‘isn’t going to make a bit of difference. Why don’t you just go home and let it . . . happen.’ That way Reena wouldn’t have to watch her die.

  ‘Just lay back down, girl. Let us do what we do best.’

  Lily applied a line of some sort of oil down the centre of Briar’s forehead. It smelt of fresh mint and patchouli.

  Briar grew increasingly frightened and sought reassurance from her parents. Her dad was frowning – clearly he wasn’t on board with all this magic stuff – but her mom gave a reassuring nod, despite the tears.

  ‘Lily is trying to help you,’ she said softly. ‘Please don’t fight this. It’ll make it harder. We just might be able to—’

  ‘I think it’s time for the candles, Reena B,’ Lily said, cutting her off.

  Confused at what wasn’t being said, Briar slumped down in bed, frowning. She couldn’t believe what was happening to her. Her eyes followed Reena as she placed white candles all around the room, then lit them, one by one, so solemnly you’d think it was a church. The larger one by the bed seemed to have something scratched in the side of it. Briar strained to read it, but couldn’t make out the letters.

  ‘It’s your name,’ Reena said. ‘It helps absorb the evil. Helps you . . .’ Her friend choked up, a hand clamped to her mouth now.

  Briar’s composure fled. ‘Oh God, I’m scared,’ she whispered. She knew she should be doing something, fighting this – but she just felt paralysed. It was as though the curse had been waiting for her all this time and she had no choice but to let it happen.

  Her mom sat on the edge of the bed, careful not to disturb any of the magical items. She took Briar’s hand in hers and kissed it.

  ‘I’m here,’ she said. ‘So is your dad. We won’t leave you.’

  Her father was on the other side of her now, near the headboard, taking her right hand in his.

  ‘I love you. I’m so sorry. I don’t . . . listen sometimes,’ he said.

  ‘Only sometimes?’ Briar said, trying to joke. It fell flat.

  ‘It’s my fault,’ her mom said. ‘It always has been. I see now we should have told you a long time ago.’

  What kind of life would she have led if she had known? Why follow the rules? Why not drink or use drugs or sleep around? What would it have mattered?

  Then I wouldn’t have been me.

  It was too late to apologize for the million little mistakes she’d made over the years. The regrets for the things she’d done, and left undone. It all came down to this last moment and she knew whatever she said would weigh on her parents for the rest of their days.

  ‘I love you, both of you,’ Briar said. ‘I will always love you, no matter what.’

  Both her parents were weeping now, Reena as well. In all her years, Briar had never seen her friend cry like that, not even when she’d totally wiped out on her bike.

  Lily rose and moved to the end of the bed so Briar’s dad could take her place on the chair.

  ‘The curse will take effect – we can’t stop that,’ the old woman said. ‘But yer a strong girl and ya got too much to live for. Ya need to fight it. Fight hard. Don’t let it win. Ya understand?’

  ‘I can fight it? Will that really work?’ Briar asked. Please say yes.

  ‘Don’t know,’ Lily admitted, her steel-grey brows furrowed. ‘But givin’ into evil is never right.’

  ‘I’ll try,’ Briar replied, though she had no idea how to do that.

  Her dad’s hand encompassed her wrist, causing the charm bracelet to dig into her skin. She remembered Joshua giving it to her. Now she wished she had kissed him.

  Downstairs, the clock began to chime the hour. It was nearly midnight. Reena clicked off the overhead light, leaving the room bathed in the candles’ gentle glow.

  This is it.

  As her parents and her best friend gave way to their grief, only Lily seemed calm. Her creaking voice prayed, ‘By the power of the Almighty and the grace of Saint Peter and Saint Expedite, the healin’ strength of Archangel Raphael . . .’

  Briar grew uncomfortably sleepy, her eyelids heavy as her vision tunnelled, her vision greyer with each breath. It was as if her body were disconnecting her from this world, one sense at a time.

  Is this what it’s like to die?

  As the clock struck its final note, she felt a ripple of cold roar through her body. She startled at the sensation.

  A life for a life, a dark voice whispered deep in her mind.

  ‘A life for a life,’ Briar repeated as faint gasps came from around her. ‘Goodbye.’

  Then she forgot how to breathe.

  Briar found herself on a road that seemed familiar, like the one near Bliss that led to the lake. A thin moon hung high in the air and the night was muggy. She became aware of someone walking next to her, a boy, but she couldn’t tell who it was. He was talking about a movie they should see.

  No. Not again.

  She knew this dream. It’d haunted her for the last two weeks. Was this her personal hell, to die over and over for eternity?

  From behind her came the sound of a car engine and she turned, only to be blinded by the oncoming headlights. There was the screech of brakes, the skid of tyres on gravel. The boy issued a warning cry, then rending pain cut through her the instant the car struck her straight on.

  Briar felt her body fracture as metal met mortal flesh. With a thud, she hit a tree, cracking her spine like a brittle chicken bone. As she lay on the warm ground, she could hear the boy sobbing, the sound of someone wailing. She felt the blood as it poured out of her body, taking her life with it.

  Then it began again: Briar found herself on her feet, unharmed. The boy was talking to her like before and then from behind her came the sound of the engine.


  ‘No!’ she screamed as the car ploughed towards her. She tried to move out of the way, but it made no difference. Down she went, and then she was up again, standing helpless, like a virgin sacrifice to an insatiable god.

  Over and over she died, each time becoming weaker, more eager to give into the pain and let go. She heard the car again, turned to see the lights. How many times had this happened now? Five, ten, a hundred?

  Deep down Briar knew this would be the last time. She couldn’t take it any more. She should just give up and end the agony.

  Ya have to fight it, girl.

  ‘Lily?’ she called out. ‘Help me!’

  But the old woman wasn’t here.

  Fury filled her that someone was trying to kill her just because she was Briar Rose.

  ‘I’m not giving in!’ she shouted. ‘I will never give in!’

  As the car moved closer, with crossed fingers and a whispered prayer, she closed her eyes and walked directly towards her fate.

  ‘She’s not breathing,’ Mr Rose said. ‘Oh God, she’s gone.’

  ‘Hush now,’ Lily commanded. ‘She’s still out there, but she has to do this herself.’

  Reena touched her friend’s hair. ‘Come on, Briar,’ she urged. ‘You can do it.’

  ‘Baby, don’t give in,’ her mother whispered, caressing her daughter’s cheek.

  Lily placed an aged hand over Briar’s chest. ‘Ya have to fight it, girl. Yer a Rose – show some backbone. If ya give in, the darkness wins. Now get to it!’ she ordered.

  With that, Briar took a deep, shuddering breath that shook the bed. Her eyes flew open for a second, and closed again. The next breath was softer, as was the one after that as she fell into an easy rhythm, a deep sleep, her face no longer contorted in agony.

  ‘Hallelujah,’ Lily said, smiling. ‘Lord a’ mercy, it worked.’

  ‘All right! Go, Briar!’ Reena said, pumping a fist towards the ceiling.

  ‘She’s OK?’ Mrs Rose began, her voice quivering. ‘She’ll wake up soon?’

  Lily’s smile dimmed. ‘That all depends on her. She’s somewhere between this world and what lies beyond.’

  ‘I’m not understanding this. I thought she was supposed to die,’ Mr Rose said, his voice hoarse as he wiped away tears with a shaky hand. ‘And now she’s . . .’

  ‘She shoulda died, but I’d hoped Briar might be strong enough to change the curse a bit. She’s done that. She’s sleepin’ for now.’

  ‘Just like Sleeping Beauty. But for how long?’ Reena asked, her joy fading.

  ‘I have no notion,’ Lily replied. ‘Ten years, a hundred? Maybe she’ll wake up, maybe she won’t. That’s the way of it.’

  Reena hadn’t expected a miracle, but the thought of her friend shrivelling up, day by day, all sad and withered, wasn’t one she could face. ‘So that’s it? She sleeps . . . forever?’

  Her great-gran’s eyes bored into hers. ‘I told ya it wasn’t no simple curse. It’s grown over the years, twisted itself. Be thankful she has a chance.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘I’m not God, girl. I can’t fix everythin’.’ Lily hesitated. ‘None of us can. Ya’ll learn that soon enough when yer doin’ yer own rootwork.’

  ‘But if we can’t help Briar, what’s the point of doing any of this?’

  ‘Because you’ve given her a chance. That’s more than she had before,’ Briar’s mother murmured as she smoothed a strand of hair off her daughter’s face.

  Lily gazed down at the sleeping girl. ‘The curse still has power over her and it can kill her if she isn’t strong enough. Y’all have to prepare yerselves for that.’

  Mrs Rose’s eyes met Reena’s, filled with both raw fear and desperate hope.

  ‘No, she’s strong inside,’ her mom said. ‘Briar will come back to us. I can feel it.’

  ‘From yer lips to the angels’ ears,’ Lily murmured.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  As she fought her way back to consciousness, Briar became aware that she was no longer in the nightmare. The car, the road and the blinding pain were gone and in their place was hard ground that made her back ache.

  ‘Mom? Dad?’ she called out as she pulled herself up. Her head spun and then righted itself as more of the cobwebs seemed to fall away.

  She wasn’t in her bedroom, but in an alley and it appeared to be just after sunset, with barely enough light left to discern her surroundings. The smell of woodsmoke and manure filled her nose with each breath, along with some other scents she couldn’t place. None of them were nice.

  Her sleep shirt had been replaced by a long dress over what appeared to be some sort of chemise. The dress was homespun in a watery blue and a darker blue corset was laced over the top, but not so tight that she couldn’t breathe. Her hair was still plaited, but now was secured with a dark cord and lay over her shoulder. A pair of patched leather boots covered her feet.

  Further inspection revealed that the red fingernail polish Briar had so carefully applied before the party was gone. In fact, all her nails were broken and encrusted with dirt, her fingers calloused as if she’d done manual labour.

  What is this?

  To her relief, the charm bracelet was still on her wrist, and for a fraction of second she swore it glinted in the dim light. A quick pat of her clothes proved that nothing else had made the journey, not even the gris-gris bag Reena had given her. It felt strange not having a cellphone.

  Unable to make any sense of her situation, Briar examined her surroundings with increasing apprehension. The building to her right was constructed of rough-hewn wood, the one on the other side made of stone. She rose and took a few steps forward, unsteady. Finally her eyes focused on a small figure sitting at the end of the alley, a mangy cat that had managed to score itself a mouse. The fur seemed odd, not like hair at all. It looked up at her, its victim’s tail hanging out of its mouth.

  ‘Ewww . . . gross,’ she said, waving her arms. ‘Go away!’

  It took off like a shot, making a strange noise as it moved.

  Was she really dead? Was this heaven? No. It wouldn’t smell this bad.

  As she reached the street, the world seemed alien to her modern eyes. There was no tarmac, no streetlights, no cars or people. The buildings were a confusing blend of stone, wood and . . . metal.

  Briar stepped in something squishy and recoiled, shaking her shoe to remove the dung. If this is heaven, I so want a refund.

  A house on the right looked familiar, as if it belonged in Bliss, but the next one had a thatched roof with ivy scrambling up a ramshackle stone chimney. There were lights inside the dwelling, along with furtive moments. Someone peered out of a window, then slammed the shutters closed as if she were a thief on the prowl.

  As Briar moved along in a daze, she passed a bakery and a cobbler’s shop, then more strange houses. Despite the increasing darkness, she swore she could see the outline of a great stone edifice in the distance, its turrets lifting high in the air.

  A castle? No way. How cool is that?

  There was a sound behind her and she whirled, desperate to find someone who could explain all this to her. A man dressed in peasant clothes hurried by, hunched down as if he hoped that made him invisible.

  ‘Hey, excuse me . . .’ she said, trying to catch up with him. ‘Wait! I need some help.’ He fled down the darkening street, his terror evident. ‘Boy, thanks!’ she said, irritated.

  What is it with this place? Why was he so freaked?

  A deep metallic sound began to reverberate through the town, much like a gong, with each strike evenly spaced after the other. It must have been a signal of some kind as door bolts slid home and shutters closed all around her. The town was closing down for the night, which meant Briar was going to have to sleep on the streets if she didn’t find help soon.

  ‘And I thought Bliss was bad,’ she muttered. She picked a house at random, but pounding on the door got her no reply. She tried the next place, then the next, her panic rising.

  What are
they afraid of?

  As if in answer to her question, a tormented howl filled the air. Briar had heard coyotes before, but this sounded different. Dogs? A pack of them could do a lot of damage. Maybe they were the reason why the guy was in such a hurry to get off the streets.

  The first howls were soon joined by another, then even more. The hair on the back of Briar’s neck rose.

  ‘Wolves? No, it can’t be.’

  Some primitive reflex urged her forward and Briar jogged back down the way she’d come. Perhaps if she kept moving she’d find someone who would take her in for the night. Or she’d wake up from this nightmare and be in her own bed, safe and sound.

  ‘Yeah, that’s it. I’m going to wake up now and it’ll all be fine,’ she said.

  The scene didn’t change, and instead the howls grew closer. When Briar took a quick look over her shoulder she saw them. They were wolves and somehow their eyes glowed unnaturally in the twilight.

  ‘Oh, crap!’

  Panicking, Briar took off at full speed, trying to avoid the muddy holes and the piles of manure. For a couple of streets she stayed ahead of them, but they slowly gained on her. Knowing she couldn’t outrun them, she raced up to the nearest house and pounded on the door. ‘Help! Let me in!’

  ‘Go away!’ someone shouted from within.

  ‘But there are wolves!’ she cried.

  ‘You broke curfew – it’s your fate,’ was the stone-cold response.

  Briar whirled to find the beasts trotting round the corner. One was sniffing the ground, tracking her. She took off at a run again, barrelling down a side street, only to find it a dead end. Judging the height of the stone wall that blocked her way, she tried to find hand and footholds to climb it, but slid back to the ground and landed on her butt.

  A throaty growl shot icicles into her blood.

  The wolves lined up in front of her now, one in front – the leader – and four behind. She could better see their unnatural sparkling eyes, as if they were lit from within by some nefarious magic. Their fur was patchy, and where it was missing metal had replaced it, cutting deep into their flesh. Perhaps that was why their howls sounded so tormented.