Page 76 of Dark Ugly Places

My hands cup over my ears, masking the sound. Finally, his voice moves further away, like a ship drifting from shore, its horn blowing softer and softer with every mile. Soon, I hear nothing at all, and I am alone in the darkness.

That’s when I ask a question. “Please,” I whisper. “Can you take him?”

And the voice I heard before answers.

That depends.

“On what?”

On whether you are ready.

“I’m ready. I’ll do anything. I just need him to stop.”

Then you are ready.

“So, you will take him?”

Yes, but you can’t have something for nothing, you know. There is always a price to pay.

“What is the price?”

One soul for another. A trade, if you will.

“What do I have to do?

Nothing. Just open the door and tell your father what you really think of him.

“I can’t. I’m scared.”

It’s okay. You don’t have to be scared. A friend is coming to help you.

And she did.

“Ben?” I call his name now into the void, hoping to hear him again. The void answers, a rush of his scent in my nose, the briefest feeling of his hand in mine. “Was that it? Was that the time she emerged?”

You know it was, Nicola. You know that’s when they gave her to you.

“You make her sound like a gift.”

Wasn’t it?

“I’m trying to remember.”

Try harder.

When I eventually gather the courage and move the dresser aside, I know he will be there. But it’s okay now because I’m not alone anymore. Flesh of my flesh, bone of my bone. A gift from the nothing that surrounds me.

My father kicks open the door, knocking me back to the floor, the scent of musty coats and clothes in my nose as they topple onto my head.

My hands and arms tremble, and a wave of sickness careens through my body. I dig my fingers into the carpet. “If you’re there, now is the time I need you!” I whisper. “Whoever you are, please. Help me.”

She roars beneath my skin, then rises up inside of me, forcing me to stand and walk toward him. I feel her take her very first breath with my lungs, hungry and unafraid.

The words tumble from my lips before I can stop them. A wave of power courses through me like I’ve never known. I let them ring out, my father absorbing the fury I spew forth.

“Don’t touch me!” she spits. “You piece of shit! You’ll rot in prison like the garbage you are!”

My father’s eyes bulge. His arm raises. His fist flies toward me. It’s me who freezes, me who doesn’t know how to resist. But not her. She knows. She ducks, swooping past him, and bolts down the stairs. I tell her where to get the keys from the peg they hang on in the kitchen.