by JL Bryan
Do Not Touch My Things
We spent the night in a hotel just off the interstate. First thing in the morning, we were back out on the road, heading to Peachville, Georgia. I had never lived in a small town before. Or a group home for that matter.
The light was shining through the thick pine trees as we turned down an unmarked gravel road an hour later. “We should be close,” Mrs. Meeks said.
A large, weather-worn sign that read “Shadowford Plantation” came into view. I sat up straight and peered through the dense trees. A winding red dirt road led back to a clearing. Mrs. Meeks stopped the car at the top of the hill and we both stared open-mouthed at the huge white plantation house below.
Shadowford stood three stories tall with long white columns running from the roof to the wraparound porch. Paint flaked off the white walls and green ivy blanketed the sides of the porch, as if nature was slowly reclaiming the house for itself. Centered on the second floor level was a large balcony with a wrought-iron railing. A girl with bright red hair stood on the balcony. She waved toward us, then disappeared into the house.
As we drove the rest of the road up to the house, a chill ran down my spine. There was something different about this place I couldn’t quite put my finger on. The house itself, though old, was breathtaking. But there was also something dark about it. Unsettling. The house grew slowly larger, and my stomach lurched. I wanted to tell Mrs. Meeks to turn around and take me back to Atlanta. To juvenile detention if that was the only option. This house was... what?
Evil.
The word popped into my head and I shivered. That was ridiculous. A house couldn't be evil. It was just my nerves getting to me.
A pretty middle-aged woman had stepped out onto the porch. She wore a faded blue dress and her brown hair was piled high in a messy bun at the top of her head. When I looked up at her, she smiled. Her dark eyes were warm and kind, immediately putting me at ease. I realized I'd been holding my breath, and I exhaled. Maybe I had only imagined the creepy aura around this place. Maybe everything was going to be alright.
I stepped out of the car and grabbed my bag from the backseat.
“You must be Harper,” the woman said. She walked over and gave me a gentle hug. “We’re so happy to have you here at Shadowford.”
“Thanks.”
“I’m Ella Mae Hunt. I help Mrs. Shadowford out quite a bit, so we'll be gettin' to know each other pretty well.” She had a lilting southern accent that was sweet and gentle.
Ella Mae took my bag and set it just outside the front door. “I’ll give you a few minutes to say goodbye, and then I’ll take you inside and introduce you to our other girls.”
I walked over to Mrs. Meeks and she gave me a big hug. “I’m sorry,” I said.
“Everything could be different for you here,” she said. “Treat this like a fresh start. A clean slate.”
I squeezed her back briefly, then let go. Maybe she was right and things really could be different here. A new school in a new town. No one here knew my history.
“I’ll do my best,” I told her.
“I know you will.”
With a sad smile, she got in her car and drove away. I watched until she disappeared from sight, then turned to my new home. Ella Mae was waiting for me by the front door.
“I think you’ll really like it here,” she said, opening the door to the big house. “Girls, come on down here and meet Harper.”
Ella Mae’s voice echoed through the high ceilings of the front hallway. Honey-colored wood floors shone beneath her feet and a large staircase rose up to the second floor landing. Three girls made their way down to us.
“This is Courtney James,” Ella Mae said. A tall girl who looked to be slightly younger than me stepped forward and held her hand out to me. Her long, straight blond hair lay over her face, covering nearly the entire left side. She kept her head down, her eyes on the floor. When I touched her hand, it was ice cold and limp.
“I’m Agnes.” The redheaded girl I'd seen on the balcony stepped out from behind Courtney and gave me a big welcoming hug. Her eyes were light green and she seemed to smile from within. I liked her immediately. “You’ll be in the room next to mine,” she said. “I’m so excited to have another house-mate here, you have no idea. Where are you coming from?"
“Atlanta.”
“Oh cool, I’ve never been to Atlanta. In fact, Peachville's even bigger than the crappy town where I was born, and believe me, that’s saying a lot.”
I laughed. Her bubbly attitude was contagious and I felt all of the anxiety about the house begin to fade away.
“This is Mary Anne Marsters,” she said, pulling me over to meet the third girl who was still standing on the bottom step. “She doesn’t really talk much.”
Mary Anne was obviously younger than the rest of us. I’d guess she was about thirteen or so. Her short black hair was tucked behind her ears and her pale skin was flawless. I reached my hand out to her, but she merely stared at it for a second, then turned around and walked back up the stairs.
“Don’t mind her,” Agnes said. “It takes her some time to get used to people.”
Ella Mae picked up my tattered bag and handed it to Agnes. “Take this up to Harper’s room now, would you Agnes? I’m going to take her in to meet Mrs. Shadowford. I’ll send her upstairs in a few minutes and you can show her around.”
“Sure thing,” Agnes said, then bounded up the stairs two at a time.
I wondered why Mrs. Shadowford hadn’t met us out front, but when I entered her dark, lush office, I understood right away. She was in a wheelchair. An older woman, she had shockingly white hair that ran in a single braid pulled over her shoulder. Her pale blue eyes seemed to pierce through me as she turned and sized me up. Butterflies danced around in my belly. This woman was unlike anyone I had ever met before. She had an energy about her that was strong and powerful. I knew right away that she was not the kind of person I wanted to cross.
“Harper Madison,” she said. She studied me for a long moment, her eyes squinted and her lips pursed together in a tight, thin line. “I hear you’ve had some trouble in the past with both your adopted parents and several foster homes.”
“Yes, ma’am.” My voice trembled a bit, betraying my fear. I shifted my weight from one foot to another and studied the thick, patterned rug on the floor.
“It’s no surprise that no one else wants you.”
Her words stung. I wondered if I’d even heard her right.
“You’re damaged. A broken girl,” she said. “And some of the things you’ve done to the people taking care of you? Well, some of those things are unspeakable.”
My face grew hot. Yes, some of the things I had done were terrible. Someone was dead because of me. I had to carry that guilt with me everywhere, but no one had ever said it out loud like that. The tone of her voice was bitter and cold, like she believed I had done those things on purpose. I opened my mouth to defend myself, but the look in her eyes stopped me.
“I don’t want to hear your excuses.”
“I never meant to hurt anyone.” I stepped forward, putting my hand on the mahogany desk that separated us.
“Do not touch my things,” Mrs. Shadowford said through gritted teeth. Her eyes grew wide and intense. I pulled my hand back quickly, but I could see that I’d made the old woman angry. On the desk, her tea cup rattled in its saucer. She reached out quickly to still the cup and the room grew silent. Fear gripped my chest, making it hard to breathe.
The air in the small office grew thick and warm. Mrs. Shadowford cleared her throat, then took her hand off the small cup. “That’s enough for this morning. Ella Mae will take you through the house rules.”
I stepped away from Mrs. Shadowford’s desk slowly, then turned to leave the room. My hand closed around the cold brass knob of the door and a small shock of electricity went through my body. I yanked my hand back, surprised.
“Harper,” Mrs. Shadowford said from her spot behind the de
sk.
My body tensed as I turned to find her blue eyes staring straight into mine. I tried to swallow, but my mouth had gone completely dry. “Yes ma’am?”
“I’ll be watching you.”