by Ally Vance
When they got tired of her, they got rid of her.
But I was left behind.
Not because she wanted to, but I think Grace’s mind had finally snapped and she didn’t realize what was happening any more.
Spare the rod and spoil the child.
Beat the devil out of the evil little bitch so no one else would ever have to suffer my presence.
They tried to kill me, but much like my sister, I’m too clever to die before my time.
Unfortunately, they couldn’t get rid of me so easily. Instead, I was locked in my bedroom and the only time the door was cracked open was to push in trays of food, and sometimes, if I was lucky they would put new water in the filthy, metal basin that sat in the middle of the room to bathe in.
As I turn to walk away from the Albertine Family plot, I find myself thinking about the boy she used to love.
Reade was his name I think, and I don’t know if they ever got to be together again. Hell, I don’t even know if she knew she was even alive, though I don’t think she knew either.
My assumption is based on how she would mention his name a lot during her live shows.
Hissed it, really.
I stopped watching her shows when I realized she couldn’t see me, though when I get down on my knees and fold my hands together, I pray for her to have found him again.
I pray that everything will be okay for her one day, and that maybe we can find each other sometime soon.
The echo of my broken heels clacks against the gravel as I walk past the mourning family. I lower my umbrella so they can’t see my face, though my curiosity forces me to stop.
Is this what love feels like?
Heartbreak and sorrow?
Maybe that’s what my sister found and that’s why she worked so hard to make her viewers happy.
I want to be like her—with her more than I can say, but I know that no one should ever have to witness what Haight can really look like.
Except for Reade’s brother.
I found him about a year ago and I’ve been watching him ever since.
If Grace couldn’t get the love she wanted from Reade, then I’ll do my best to love Charlie.
Not for me; for my sister.
And he’ll love me too.
Then I’ll go looking for her and show her what I’ve done, and she’ll be so proud of me.
And then we can be together again.
Forever and always.
Chapter One
I pull my dress off and let it fall to the floor in a damp heap. I sigh when I see the hem has small blades of grass clinging to it, but it doesn’t matter now.
I have to get cleaned up and ready to go, so I can see if I can find Charlie again tonight.
I reach up to rub my shoulder as I made my way toward the small, dark room in the back of the abandoned house I’ve claimed as my own.
Because my darling parents made sure that the room they kept me in was constantly illuminated in one way or another, I now relish being in the dark.
I feel like I can heal when nothing else can see me.
I push the door open to my bedroom and reach forward to grab the old, wooden slab before it falls over. I’ve been meaning to fix it ever since I moved in, but I haven’t got much money and sometimes, home improvement tools aren’t easy to come by for free.
Once I’ve set the door against the inner wall, I take the few steps toward the old dresser that I managed to salvage from a dumpster a few blocks away. It took me a few trips, but since someone had thrown it away, I figured they wouldn’t mind if I took it.
I lean down and turn the rusty key on the small lantern that sits on top. This, I managed to steal from an outdoor display at one of the local chain stores. I counted the days they left it outside, and when I decided that if they could leave it sitting in the rain for so long they wouldn’t miss it, so I made it mine.
Picking it up, I walk over to the hole in the wall I use as a closet and set it down carefully. This is the only light I have in my home and I do my best to treat it better than any other light has treated me.
Little acts of kindness as I try and prepare my soul to intertwine with my sister’s again.
I rifle quickly through the few dresses that I’ve made for myself until I find the one I’m looking for. It’s white and has a crudely stitched Leviathan cross on the front—just like the one I saw my sister wear the last time I saw her perform.
Only this time, I’ll be the star; a one-woman show for an incredibly special audience.
He’ll tell me where Grace can be found and everything will be okay again, I think as I remove it from the hanger and hold it against my semi-naked body. I reach down and using one of my hands to smooth out the wrinkles and slap away some of the dust, a smile starts creeping up the corners of my lips.
In a few short hours, I’ll have Charlie, and then it’ll only be a matter of time before Grace and Haight are reunited.
The air has grown much crisper since the sun has gone down. The skies have cleared, leaving a low-hanging humidity, but I don’t mind it. The dress is lighter than I thought it would be, so I know that the elements won’t bother me much.
I take a deep breath as I carefully walk down the broken steps of my home. As soon as my black shoes hit the pavement, I begin to recite my sister’s favorite prayer to myself.
Hail Mary, full of hate …
I tuck my hair behind my ears.
Hate.
Just like me.
The Lord has abandoned us.
I wrap my arms around my fragile frame. No, he just got rid of you and locked me in a bright room.
Bless this rotten little girl, who above all else wishes to die.
But not us. The truly wicked never really die. They seem to endure and go on.
Bless this act of rage committed in the name of all that is unholy.
We weren’t always like this; damaged, discarded in one way or another, and turned to dust. We were made into the monsters that we’ve become.
Corrupt Mary, mother of the disgraced.
She could have stopped it, but I think mother’s mind wandered off long before my sister’s did. That’s when she decided that she had to get rid of her and keep me from becoming her mirror image.
Prey on the sinners now and at the hour of our death.
That’s why I’m out tonight.
Charlie is a sinner by proxy. His brother tormented my sweet Grace more than he ever knew, and if he did know, it makes him even more guilty because he didn’t do anything to stop it.
Amen.
I make the sign of the cross as I step up to the crosswalk and look up at the light.
Eventually it’ll be my turn to go.
And then there will be no coming back.
Chapter Two
The tall man who is blocking the entrance to the bar and I are having a staring competition. He’s denied me entry before, but tonight, I won’t take no for an answer.
“I’ve already told you a hundred times that you’re too young to come in here,” he says gruffly.
I take him in as best as I can so that I can commit him to memory. Besides being tall, his arms are strong, and I imagine that his legs must be too. His eyes are dark brown like umber, and he has a long black beard that has some white streaks, much like the black hair that sits slicked back on his head.
It makes me wonder if he really thinks he’s intimidating or if he knows he doesn’t have to try.
Most people would probably run from him, but not me.
I can’t.
“I have to go in,” I repeat quietly.
“Listen, little girl,” he snaps as he reaches forward and grabs me by the arm, “you’re out way past your bedtime. Why don’t you go home and stop giving me trouble?”
My eyes lower to the hand that’s roughly gripping my flesh. ‘You’ll never be anything but trouble you little bitch’. That’s what my mother said to me before they locked me in the bright room, and she’d look so smug
right now if she could hear someone else sharing her sentiment.
“I can do something for you if you let me in,” I say, glancing up into his umber eyes again.
“The only thing you can do for me is to fuck off,” he barks, giving me a rough shove toward the alley next to the bar.
I stumble a little bit but luckily don’t fall on the floor. It would ruin my dress and that won’t do. I can’t look like the little street rat that I used to be when I finally talk to Charlie. I have to look beautiful, put together, and eager to please him.
“Are you sure?” I press, reaching down for the hem of my dress and pulling it up high enough for him to see the black lace panties that I’m wearing.
He grunts but I can see that he’s contemplating what I have to offer now.
“How old are you?” he asks uncertainly.
I shrug as I force a smile onto my lips.
I’ve watched Grace enough times to know that being coy can help reel in the audience—even if it is just a private party of one for the moment.
He cuts his eyes up and down the street before he lets out his breath and follows me into the alley. I do my best to lead him further into the dark, walking backward until I’m sure that no one will be able to see us.
“You ever been with a man before?” he asks, closing the gap between us and gripping my chin with his hand. His touch is as gentle as it was when he shoved me into the alley, but that doesn’t matter now.
I shrug again as I let the hem of my skirt drop.
“Fuck, I don’t wanna be anyone’s first,” he mumbles under his breath.
“Then don’t,” I reply reasonably.
He arches an eyebrow at me in confusion until I crook my finger and beckon him closer.
Running a hand back through his hair, he glances over his shoulder again before he reaches down for the zipper on his jeans and pulls it down.
“Guess I wouldn’t mind a little head,” he agrees with a smirk. Once he pulls his cock free from his jeans, he gives it a couple of tugs and I watch as it begins to rise. “Get going.”
I look up at him and allow the smile to spread a little wider as I begin to lower myself to my knees. I’m careful to make sure that I don’t get my dress dirty by rolling it up and using one hand to hold it firmly against my thighs.
I look up at him again as I use my other hand to reach for his cock and maintain eye contact as I press my tongue against his salty skin, running it up his shaft. When his breath hitches slightly, it tells me that I must be doing this right.
So, much like my sister, I decide to indulge him for a moment. I take his cock into my mouth and begin to move my head up and down, tongue swirling along his length, my hand trailing behind it. I don’t know why I want him to enjoy this, but I do.
I know why.
I just have to wait for the perfect moment.
I pull his cock out of my mouth and run my hand up and down his shaft, using my thumb to wipe away the bead of salty liquid on the head before he grabs me by the back of my head and roughly pulls me back against him.
I gag and my eyes start to water.
He puts a hand on either side of my face and begins to thrust his hips.
He’s taking control now and this won’t do.
When he gives me the slightest reprieve, when he chuckles tiredly, and when I feel the warm liquid spill into my mouth, I lean forward and do my best to take his length into my throat again. Only this time, it’s at my pace and not for his pleasure, but for mine.
“Goddamn you’re good at this girl,” he says in a thick voice as I let go of my dress and place a hand on his hip. I dig the fingers into his jeans as much as I can, slowly begin to pull back on his shaft, swirl my tongue around the head of his cock that’s still in my mouth.
When he looks down at me with a satisfied, tired look in his eyes …
I bite down as hard as I can.
He lets out a scream of agony, and tries to push me away, but I won’t let go. I dig my other hand into his hip and attach myself to him like a fucking viper as I continue to grind down on his flesh.
He’s begging now, crying, promising me that if I just stop he won’t tell anyone, and that he’ll let me go inside anytime I want.
When his pleas don’t work, he grabs my hair and begins to yank it as hard as he can to get me to let go, but I’m locked in by my will, not just strength alone, and he quickly realizes that mistreating me is only making it worse.
It’s when he finally stops fighting, when he’s nothing more than another man who thought himself higher than he really was, that I feel my teeth grind against each other.
When the blood rushes into my mouth I push him away, getting to my feet.
I look down at my dress and sigh.
I can’t go into the bar with blood on my body; there will be no way to explain it.
Taking a deep breath, I pull it over my head and fold it neatly until I’m able to tuck it under an arm.
Then I reach into my mouth and pull out the chunk of mutilated flesh I was able to gnash off with my teeth.
“These look different when they’re in pieces,” I murmur. Oh well.
“What’s your name?” I ask, turning my attention back to him. He’s on the ground of the dirty alley now, hands covering what’s left of his cock, and sobbing like his heart might break.
“I used to cry like that,” I tell him softly as I walk closer to stand over him. “And you know what helped me?”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see a rat sitting against the alley wall watching us. I close my eyes for a moment, count to five, then blindly reach out to grab it, smiling when it begins to squeal and squirm in my hand.
“Do you want to tell me your name so I can tell you what helped me?” I ask him again as I sit down on his chest, pinning his arms beneath me.
“Fuck you,” he manages to sputter, and I shake my head.
“No, thank you.”
I balance my dress against my thigh. I pull an arm back and punch him in his throat. When his mouth opens wide in shock and he attempts in vain to breathe in gasps of air, I stick my fingers into his jaw and pull it down as far as I can.
“Praying.”
I bring the squirming rodent up to give it a gentle kiss on the head before I turn and force it down his throat. He’ll choke on the fucking thing, and where there’s one rat, there are many.
It’ll look like a freak accident.
Like me and my sister.
I gather my dress and get to my feet, lean down to kiss the bar man on his forehead, and chuckle as the rat’s legs writhe and wriggle, the tail flicking back and forth wildly.
As I roll the head of his cock between my fingers like a lucky charm, I realize that I’ll have to try again some other time.
Charlie got lucky tonight, but really it’s my fault.
I never could keep anything white clean.
Chapter Three
I pick the excised skin out of my teeth before I get up and walk into my bathroom. It’s not much; a metal basin much like the one I was forced to use at home: a bucket of water that’s kind of dirty, but it’s more than enough to wash my hands in for now and I can always walk down to the river later to get clean water.
I hadn’t even realized that I managed to skin him some; not that it makes a difference. He was a mean man who was too easily swayed by things he shouldn’t covet, and he broke one of God’s commandments.
God, I think bitterly as I pick up my bloody dress and shove it angrily into my makeshift sink. There isn’t a god in this world that would have stood by and watched what happened to me and Grace without stepping in to help us.
I gasp as a sting begins to permeate on my cheek.
I blasphemed in my thoughts and my natural reaction was to punish myself with a slap to the face like mother and father would have done were they here.
Mama and Papa always were able to hear our thoughts. Even the most private ones that we tried to keep buried deep inside of ourselves, they st
ill heard them.
I learned that for myself the day they sent Grace away. Papa told me he heard the whispers in my head about my sister. Her whispers, and mine too. He said the only way to keep everyone safe would be to split us apart.
Bastard.
I reach into the bucket and scoop up some of the water, splashing it against my mouth. The bitter copper taste of blood and the salty taste of the man’s seed hasn’t gone away yet.
I scoop up more water, again and again, until I’m out of breath until I’m so close to drowning myself here on my knees. But I don’t stop until she tells me to.
That’s enough.
My face crumples instantly as I let out a strangled sob. She sounds so close even though I know she’s not. Her voice was always strong, forgiving, and understanding. Grace was the only person who ever loved me. Even after her mind snapped, she would recite her poem before each show.
Hail Mary full of hate …
She hadn’t forgotten me even though something inside of her didn’t quite work anymore.
I take a heaving breath as I use the back of my hand to wipe away the tears. I tell myself that crying won’t bring her any closer to finding her than my being on my knees blubbering over it will.
I use the damp dress to wipe my face clean before I drop it into the bucket again and get to my feet. I’ll let it sit overnight then I’ll hang it outside in the morning if the sun is shining.
A shuddering breath escapes me as I walk back into my little bedroom. I grab one of the milk crates that a local garbage man was nice enough to try and soften for me. He told me that I could use it for a chair until he found something more suitable.
I like him.
He treats me like a person.
Every now and then he checks in on me and I do my best to smile whenever I see him. Unfortunately for me, smiling usually leads to bad things, so unless I’m ready to face them, I tend to keep a straight and somber expression on my face.
I push the milk crate closer to the edge of my mattress pile before I turn around and reach for one of the dresser drawers that never quite fit right. I prop it up against the back of the crate, forcing the side into the small, rectangular hole I managed to scrape out one night with my fingernails.