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PROLOGUE
Pocus
Weirdo!
Freak! Freak!
Get out! Leave!
Petit diable!
I’m in a void, enclosed in terrifying darkness…it’s a familiar space, and so is the terror coursing through me at the moment.
I recognize these voices…the kids at school, my aunt Cecelia, the nuns, and other kids at the orphanage. These are the voices from my nightmare.
The voices overlap, morphing into a terrifying echo that keeps ringing in my head. I can feel it all. Their intense hatred, fear, and misconceptions…I could feel it all like the projections of my senses. I wish they’d stop. I cover my ears and huddle in a corner, but the effort is in vain. They are in my head…the voices never stop.
Go away from here! Leave!
I wake up with a start. I’m drenched in sweat, breathing hard. A cold breeze grazes my skin, speeding up my return to consciousness. I look around the isolated alleyway, taking in the familiar environment with mounting dread.
The only form of illumination is the eerily blinking light from a broken street lamp a few feet ahead.
The ground is hard and cold beneath me, and I immediately feel an unforgiving pang in my stomach. Hunger….
I hear a quiet weeping to my right and quickly turn toward the sound. My little sister is seated beside me, doubled over with her hands tightly clutching her stomach as she sobs. Her cries sound weak and scratchy.
“Nesce?” I call softly, tentatively.
She raises her head to mine, and I feel my heart break into a thousand bloodless pieces.
Her face is smudged with dirt, and a few painful-looking gashes dusted her forehead. Her long black hair, loose from the sloppy bun I’d made earlier, falls over her face in a greasy mess. Her eyes are filled to the brim with haunted tears; each drop is like a sharp, edged arrow lodged in my heart’s scarred tissues.
I lean forward so I can search her face. “What’s wrong, Coco?”
Evanesce likes when I call her Coco because it happens to be the name of the heroine from her favorite cartoon. For me, it’s short for Chéri coco, an endearment our dad used to call her as a baby.
“I’m…I’m so hungry,” Evanesce says amidst hiccups that wracked her whole body and made the ragged blanket I’d wrapped around her slip further away from her tiny shoulders. “And…I’m cold.” Her teeth are chattering so loud that I can hear them. I fear she’s about to go into a seizure.
I open my arms, and she crawls into them. I hold her frail body close to mine and bury my head in the crook of her neck.
We just have to stay like this, and we’ll be out in no time. I just have to hold on for as long as I can.
It doesn’t matter that the icy wind is biting mercilessly through my skin or that I feel so heady due to hunger. It doesn’t matter that my sister’s body keeps growing weaker as the seconds pass by.
None of it matters. We just have to remain this way because none of this is real.
It’s all in my head. I swore never to come back here. I fought like a dog so we could get out. I drew blood and killed whoever and whatever stood in my way. I made all the sacrifices.
I can’t be here. Never again.
This isn’t my reality – not anymore
I open my eyes, wondering if I’m really awake this time or if this is another nightmare within a nightmare. My demons have a warped sense of humor and tend to make me relive my worst moments over and over again.
I recognize the familiar humming sound of the air conditioner in my room at the clubhouse, signaling that I’m indeed back in the present.
I should be used to this since it happens every other night, but I can feel my chest tighten with the same helplessness and anger I felt years ago.
