AllFreeNovel
Share Us
There’s something off with Callie. It’s way more than the trepidation of facing the truth about her mother selling her. I can understand her nerves, could understand if she was crying or trembling, or even angry. But she’s frozen under my touch, feet planted on the pavement, unable to move.
And I don’t even think it's because she knows that her mother will die soon.
I’ve never seen someone so terrified in all my life. Even when we finally found Callie, she wasn’t this scared. She never talks about what happened within these walls, but even at a young age we saw the misery in her gaze and vowed that if we couldn’t protect her from whatever was causing it, we would at least offer her salvation from it.
It’s why we befriended her. She was a quiet little loner at school, arriving late and tiny for her age. East and Devon were in their final year, but me and Callie still had another year to go. I was so pleased when the teacher sat her next to me in class; I’d never been so grateful for a boy-girl seating plan in all my life. Even at ten I knew she was beautiful, even though I was probably supposed to still think girls were awful at that age. Her smile was tentative and sweet, her eyes huge and curious, and her hair looked like spun chestnut silk. And somehow, she became my best friend, which meant she also became Devon and East’s best friend too.
The misfire of a car – or possibly a gunshot given the neighbourhood we’re in – jolts me from my trip down memory lane and I look over at Callie. She seems trapped within a memory too, though hers feels nowhere near as happy as mine was.
I gently tug her along the overgrown, cracked path that leads to the blistered, old door with only flecks of aged brown paint remaining. Callie never let us come here, but once we were old enough to drive, Devon came by one time. He arrived home in such a mood he kicked the shit out of the wheel arch on his new car. He never told us what he saw, just said that Callie lived in a shithole and to stay away. I did, and now I understand why he wanted us to.
Callie follows me up the concrete steps leading to the battered door. The windows on either side are completely boarded up. I move to the left to try to peer through a crack, but the house is in darkness. That, or the windows are so filthy no light will shine through. I can’t help but wonder if it was this bad when Callie was growing up living here. Has it deteriorated in the time she’s been gone? Or is this a walk down memory lane today?
Callie opens the door without knocking. There’s no bell, and the door isn’t even locked. In fact, on closer inspection, I see that the lock is busted.
The whole place feels derelict and dangerous. There’s something in the air...a sense of threat, a haunting trauma, that’s palpable. Callie trembles. She senses it too.
She hesitates, then steps inside, a look of abject terror on her face. In the hallway she tenses and freezes like she’s waiting for a blow to come. When none does, she still doesn’t relax. If anything, she’s more on edge, but she does take the doorway on the left which is covered only by a tattered, makeshift curtain. The entire place is dank and filthy, the walls stained yellow from years of chain smoking, the carpet underfoot thick and sticky with christ knows what.
I flick the light switch but nothing happens, and Callie chuckles humourlessly.
I honestly don’t know how the fuck her mother is still alive if she lives here like this. I don’t know how Devon got in his car and drove away, leaving Callie here if this is what the place was like back then. I know I couldn’t have.
“Home sweet home,” Callie whispers bitterly under her breath before calling out, “Hello? Mama? It’s me.”
There’s no reply, and she moves further into the room. Unwilling to let her out of my sight, I follow and find myself in the most disgusting, squalid kitchen I’ve ever laid eyes on. I can’t even begin to describe the decades of filth, and the smell…oh god. Nothing compares. Not even the scents I’ve experienced torturing and killing people.
Callie disappears behind another tattered curtain, into a back room beyond. I quickly follow her and my brothers bring up the rear.
The smell in here is somehow even worse than the kitchen. It smells worse than death. Trust me, I would know.
Callie crosses the small space and wrenches down the newspaper that has been taped over the windows. Early morning light floods the room and is so contrasting that I wince. Once my eyes adjust, I see Callie’s mother slumped half on the floor, half on a disgusting brown velour sofa. She’s barely clothed, and Callie throws a threadbare blanket over the woman before reaching past the plethora of drugs and paraphernalia to grab a glass of water off the low coffee table.
She throws that over her mother too, who comes round, spluttering and swearing.
“That was the last of my vodka, you piece of shit!” she cries before even opening her eyes. Despite being out of it and glassy as fuck, her eyes still light up with greed when she sees my brothers and me.
“Hello boys, I wasn’t expecting company today but if you give me a couple of minutes to freshen up, I’ll be the girl of your dreams for an hour or two.” She winks lasciviously at me, and I gag.
“Mama,” Callie says sharply, drawing the old hag’s attention her way.
“You!” she snarls. “Do you have any idea what you’ve cost me girl? Everything! You have some nerve coming here!”
“Did you mean what you said on the phone, Mama?”
“I said a lot of stuff and I’ve slept since then. You’ll have to remind me.” Callie’s mum shrugs dismissively, turning to inspect her filthy bitten nails in a clear dismissal. I see rage flash in Callie’s eyes.
“Did you sell me, Mama?!” Callie shouts angrily.
“I did.” Another careless, dismissive, cruel shrug. “But you ended up costing me more than it was worth.”
“Why, Mama?” Callie whispers in disbelief, her anger crumbling away in shock. I knew she was in denial, unwilling to believe that the woman who birthed her could do something so heartless. I should have warned her. I’m an idiot. I could have...not saved her this heartache, but maybe lessened it somehow.
I feel like I’ve failed her again.
“Because you were supposed to get fucked and die!” Her mother screams, right in her face. Credit to Callie, she doesn’t even wince.
“Not that. Why did you do it?”
