Riley's Curse, A Moon's Glow Prequel

by Christina Smith

  Chapter Three

  Confession

  The morning sun shone through my window, waking me from my deep slumber. I had a deep nagging feeling that something was wrong, but I was so tired, I just wanted to go back to sleep.

  Turning away from the sun's glare I nearly dozed off again, until Lucy’s face crept into my mind reminding me of the horror that happened in the meadow. It all came flooding back. The beast, her death, listening to her family sobbing and begging for their daughter, and all the while, I wished for death.

  I lifted the coverlets, exposing blood on my clothes, and bedding. I stood up, ripping the shirt off of me. The buttons popped, each one fell to the floor with a tick, tick, tick. I removed my trousers, tossing them in a clump in the corner of the room.

  I pulled the items I needed out of my cupboard, and picked some linens and soap from the closet, sneaking out the back door to avoid my family’s well-meaning queries. I wanted to go to the river to bathe instead of bothering Jane our house maid to fill the tub.

  Once I reached the riverbank, I sat everything down and pulled off my underclothes. I dove into the water. The need to cleanse myself of that horrible night overwhelmed me. My hands were cut and smeared with dried blood. When I touched my nose, it was tender, and also caked with blood.

  When all my injuries were taken care of, I scrubbed my body until my skin was raw. With every stroke of the cloth I saw the wolf's yellow eyes staring at me hungrily. The smell of lavender from the soap filled my sore nostrils, clearing the image from my mind.

  The water was still a little chilly. It was early June and when my skin started to feel numb I decided to get out.

  After I dried off, dressed and went back inside, one thought filled my mind. To get rid of every single reminder of the event that I knew would forever change my life. I gathered my bloody clothes from the floor of my bedroom, and rushed into the kitchen. I hoped that if I burned all of the evidence of last night, I would clear the guilt that was beginning to eat away at me. My mother was helping Jane clean up after breakfast, she saw me, and smiled sadly. “Good morning Son. Do you want me to make you something to eat?”

  I simply shook my head, and opened the heavy iron door of the cook stove. Heat rushed out, warming my skin instantly, the fire leaped with the sudden wash of air. I tossed the clothes inside and watched them burn. The angry flames enveloped the shirt and trousers. I stayed until they turned to ash. Smoke billowed out of the stove making my mother cough. I closed the door, but watched through the window. Through the flame's, all I saw was Lucy's lifeless face, making my heart ache at the sight. Why couldn't it have been me that died?

  I was so entranced with the vision, I vaguely noticed my sisters rush into the room or the tug on my arm when Mary tried to get my attention. I couldn’t look away. I should feel better now that the clothes were gone, but I didn’t. All I felt was guilt, so strong it ripped through my chest like a knife.

  Unable to shake off my dark mood, I went outside to the woodpile to work off my frustrations with an axe. Physical activity usually cleared my mind, although I knew it wouldn’t work today. I was right, the events of last night constantly flowed through my mind. I tried to think of ways I could have changed the outcome, but the problem was, how could I have saved her, when I hadn't seen or heard the danger? The wolf was silent, even when it took her life. It was my fault of course, if I hadn't have been rattling on about college, I might have heard the wolf and scared it away. Even as the thought appeared, I shook it off. I knew that the wolf that stared down at me would not have been frightened by anything.

  The sun was hot with only a light breeze to cool me down. The smell of wood and honeysuckle filled the air.

  I pulled down my suspenders, and undid my shirt when I started to sweat from the heat. As I picked up a large piece of oak and placed it down on the tree trunk I was using as a base, I heard footsteps coming toward me. I lifted my arms, plunging the axe into the wood. After it split in two, I bent down to pick up the pieces that fell to the ground.

  “Are you ever going to talk to your mother or me?” I heard my father ask. I could see him from the corner of my eye. I didn’t answer him, still unable to speak. The images of last night would not leave my mind.

  “It might help to get it off your chest, instead of using up all your energy with that axe. You’ve been at it for hours without a break.”

  As he spoke, I split another piece, and then tossed them onto the pile.

  He leaned against the fence waiting for a response. I didn’t give him one. “Well, we’re here if you need us,” he said as he walked away. My father was a very patient man and knew that I would come to him when I was ready. But what could I say to him? There was nothing he or anyone could do to bring Lucy back, and that was the only thing that would help me.

  I continued to cut wood for a while longer without any interruptions, although I did see Mary, my youngest sister leaning on the wooden fence nearby watching me. She had always looked up to me, even now when I proved not to deserve her adoration. I failed to save Lucy. How could she look at me with anything but disgust?

  When I could no longer lift my arms, and was about to parish from thirst, I headed over to the well to pump water into my hands, sipping the cold liquid from them.

  After quenching my thirst, I sat on the edge of the river where I had last met Lucy, to watch the fish swim around. They bobbed their heads, nibbling at the bugs on the water’s surface. This was the spot I liked to come to think when something was bothering me. But until today I had no idea how enormous my troubles could be. It was a beautifully warm day. The slight breeze blew the branches of the trees above me, creating a soothing, rustling sound. The birds chirped from a nest in the maple tree that towered above. It was a lovely day, and I could almost forget what happened only hours before. Until Lucy's image appeared before me, with her feet resting in the water just as they had two days before. Her laughter echoed in the air, mixing with the rustling branches. When I blinked at her, the image disappeared, and the pain in my chest returned tenfold.

  “Excuse me, Nathaniel?”

  I jumped at the sound of my name. I was lost in the memory and didn't hear anyone approach. Lucy’s mother, Mrs. Stewart stood behind me, next to a tall willow. She was wearing a long black dress, and a wide brimmed black hat that covered most of her pale hair. She was holding a familiar velvet box. Just the sight of Lucy's birthday gift, filled me with dread. I took it from her, stuffing it into my pocket, knowing without looking, what was in it.

  "I thought you might want this back," she murmured, unable to look into my eyes.

  I simply nodded, hoping to forget that it was in my pocket. I could hide it somewhere later, so I wouldn't have to be reminded of the night not so long ago when I had given it to her.

  She cleared her throat and squared her shoulders, "Nathaniel," she said again, this time, with more meaning.

  “Yes?” I asked, wishing I had chosen a spot to hide where no one would be able to find me.

  “I know that you are upset, and you do not wish to speak of what happened… however, Mr. Stewart and I really need to know. We realize that a wolf killed her. We just want to know what led up to it. We do not understand why it would come after you both in the first place. There are plenty of animals in the forest."

  She was barely holding in the tears, and perhaps I could have denied her had I not seen them. I could not refuse a female of anything when they wept, a fact my sisters took full advantage of.

  I hesitated for only a moment before slowly standing in front of the woman I had someday wished to be family. I saw how much she was suffering, and I knew I had no choice. I nodded slowly, and then followed her into the house with my shoulders slumped with apprehension.

  Once inside, she led me into our parlor.

  The room was full of people. My parents were sitting on the settee near the window. Mr. Stewart occupied the one
by the entryway. The Sheriff was standing by the woodstove, and our Minister sat in the chair by the corner. My mother’s antique spoon collection hung right above his head. The slightest movement could knock them down onto his lap.

  My mother gestured for me to take a seat in the chair they had placed in the center of the room. Mrs. Stewart joined her husband, grasping his hand for support.

  I felt as though I was on trial as I sat down where my mother instructed. All eyes were on me.

  “We all know that you’ve been through a terrible experience, Son. But we have some questions that need to be answered, and if we could avoid bringing up these awful memories, we would. Since you’re the only witness, we cannot,” my father said, leaning forward in his seat.

  Sheriff O’Neil stepped up to me, and placed his hand on my shoulder, it felt cold through my work shirt. “Just tell us in your own words what happened,” he said, and then stepped back to his spot leaning against the wall.

  I sat silently gathering my thoughts, but only one popped in my head, Lucy's lifeless eyes. I flinch at the memory and gazed down at the brightly colored Oriental rug, while everyone stared at me in anticipation. It was so quiet that the ticking of our grandfather clock echoed through the house. I could hear the wind whistling outside, and my sister’s distant laughter. I listened to hear if the neighbor’s dog was out, and sure enough, I heard a soft bark come from the back fields. The parlor was crowded, but still smelled of my mother's perfume, and candle wax.

  My father shifted in his seat and coughed, letting me know without words that I had prolonged my explanation long enough.

  Still focused on the rug, I tired to wipe the image of Lucy from my mind. I cleared my throat and began. “I called on Lucy just after the dinner hour. We decided that since it was such a lovely evening we would go for a walk in the town square. We were deep in conversation, and didn’t realize that we had wandered off the path. Before we knew it, we were in the meadow behind the park. We had turned around, knowing that it was not proper.” I glanced at her father apologetically, when he simply nodded, I swallowed a lump that had formed in my throat and continued.

  “We must have been walking for some time, because it started to get very dark. We were lucky there was a full moon out or we wouldn’t have been able to see a thing. Lucy had asked me if I was ever going to take those business courses I had talked about. I answered the question, telling her that I was planning to start at the college over in Macon City in the fall.” I paused to swallow again, my throat was suddenly dry. “I asked what her plans were, but she didn’t answer. I turned my head to look at her, and saw her lying on the ground with a very large wolf leaning over her. I didn’t even hear it approach us. I stared at them, shocked at what I was seeing." I gulped in air, wishing I didn't have to speak the next words. "She was already dead." There were a few murmurs, but no one spoke, they were waiting for me to finish my tale.

  My heart began to race. "The wolf looked up at me, and I swear it smiled. It started to stalk me slowly. I backed up, afraid to make a sudden move. But I couldn’t take it, the fear took over and I sped off running."

  "It was right on my heels, and at one point it took a bite out of the back of my leg. I ran to the road and I was certain that I had escaped, but it knocked me down and was just about to kill me when Mr. Morgan came, and scared it away. I’m sure that if he hadn’t been there, I would be dead, just like Lucy.” My voice was beginning to shake, I stood up fighting tears. I had never broken down in front of anyone, and I did not intend to start now. “And I wish I was,” I cried, my voice cracking, the pain in my chest was stronger than ever. I rushed out the door, but on my way, I noticed that every face in the room was frozen.