Fade to Black (The Black Trilogy Book 1) (3 page)

chapter three

In the days that followed, I healed. Daniel never mentioned my mother, except to say she had quit her job and told everyone she was heading to Nashville, to live closer to Nathan. It was a believable story. This was in fact her plan, he said, but Nathan knew nothing of where we were, and more importantly, no one knew I wasn’t with my mother, so no one would be looking for me. This cleared me from ever returning to school.

Daniel repeatedly told me no one wanted me. Not my brother, my mother, or Nana and Papaw. He reinforced this when I tried to run from the house one day, after he allowed me to take a shower without him present. He caught me, and whipped me with the old leather belt he wore. Huge, bloody welts appeared on my legs and back. After that was over, he cried and said I made him hurt me, and why would I want to leave him? He was the only one that loved me and wanted me.

By my birthday in February, I was in a dog collar with a chain that slid through its locked ring around my neck. This, as Daniel explained, would allow me access to the bathroom and the bedroom while he was away at work, without his having to tie me up each time.

I was no better than a dog on a leash, or maybe even worse. My life was isolated from the outside world. Daniel hung plywood over the windows so I could not see out, or more importantly, so no one could see in. No one ever came by, and the mailbox was far enough away from the hillside that no postman would make the trip up the hill.

Daniel said everything was for my protection, so that when he was at work, no one would be able to break in the house. I knew this was a lie. The trailer was a dump, in the middle of nowhere with one road in, and one road out. I did not know which side of town we were on, but I watched the sun through a two-inch space the plywood did not cover at the bottom of the bedroom window.

The sun rose on the right and I knew somewhere Nana was watching it with me. My mind was saying nobody would want me now, I was so dirty, but my heart kept saying, every sunrise, Nana and Papaw were waiting on me. I hoped somehow Nathan was too. I missed my brother so bad, it physically hurt me to think of him.

Life went on without me every day. I got to eat as long as I did whatever Daniel wanted. When he was on top of me, I would become the people on TV. It was the only way I could escape where I was, and what was happening to my dead body. I became numb to it all. I did everything Daniel wanted, so I could eat mostly, and he would allow me to read while he was at work.

I quickly became pale and even thinner than before. Within a couple of months my ribs began to show through the old T-shirts I was permitted to wear. I would sit with my knees pulled up inside the shirt, trying to keep warm. I had a thin blanket, but no socks. It was a frigid hell, that much I was sure.

I read of Jonah in a small Bible that was stiff from never being opened. What he described, I understood. I took comfort in his escape from the whale, or rather the deliverance God provided him. I did not believe I would be delivered from my own hell. As Daniel repeatedly told me, no one would want me anyway. They were not even looking for me. I was nothing more than Daniel’s little dog on a chain.

We had a huge ice storm in March. Daniel and I stayed in bed for a week. It was so cold in the trailer, I would breathe just to watch my breath for entertainment, when I was not watching TV. After the storm finally passed, the woods finished shedding the weight of ice and snow from its branches and brush. They looked bare in the distance. Under the bed, I had found a scope from a hunting rifle Daniel had changed out for a new one, and with it, I watched the birds and deer when he was gone. The scope became my secret treasure.

I craved being outside, and seeing the birds and deer gave me a little bit of freedom in my dark world. Every morning, as soon as I heard the heavy steps out the door and Daniel’s truck start down the drive, I went to my crack at the bottom of the window, and I would watch as the sun rose high in the blazing blue sky.

It was the end of March. I was sick at my stomach and felt weak all over. When Daniel did allow me food, it was very little. He told me he despised fat women, and I was perfect the way I was. I was skin and bones. The night before I had four saltine crackers and a cup of cold chicken broth out of the can. I drank the broth down, grateful for every drop.

By morning I was light-headed and felt like I needed to sleep a little longer. After ten minutes of lying still I had to guide myself, careful not to choke on the chain I was attached to, into the bathroom to throw up. I drank water from the sink and lay on the floor heaving and sweating.

I prayed that God would just let me die a real death on the floor. I asked that if Jesus came and took me, I would not be buried next to my mother because that was way too close to the devil for me. I prayed my Nana and Papaw were okay. I prayed Nathan made it big, with a song everybody would know the words to one day.

I woke up, almost disappointed, two hours later. After washing my face, I began to feel much better. Placing my hand on my chain I went back to the bedroom, turning the TV up as I came in.
I Love Lucy
was one of my favorite shows and one of the only things I watched with the volume on. I loved listening to Ricky’s Cuban accent and tried to mimic it, pronouncing the words just like him. After it went off, I turned the TV back down and got my scope to watch the woods again.

The day was beautiful and clear. Sunny and bright, the woods were alive with activity. I watched birds bring their babies worms. Spring was near. I was so caught up in the birds’ daily feeding, I almost missed the barn in the distance. Once I spotted it, I began to cry real tears for the first time in weeks. My shirt was soaked before I realized what I was doing. I thought maybe it was a mirage, like they showed on Bugs Bunny, so I watched and waited for it to disappear. The sun was to my left now, shining off the glass window on the top of a huge blue barn.

Never had I seen a more beautiful thing than this. I knew it well. It was the barn of the Logue family. It had been the source of great humor in the county for many years. My papaw would say, “Looky yonder, at that ugly blue barn.” Then he would chuckle and shake his head. “There ain’t no missing that thing, no sir,” he would say with a smile. I liked it, because everyone else would paint their barns red, but being blue was different in a place where everything seemed the same.

I was afraid if I looked away it would be lost in the woods. It was not until I heard the truck pull in that I stopped looking for signs of anyone in the woods. I hoped with all my heart that I was not imagining this unbelievable sight. Had the ice storm not come, I would have never seen through the trees. I said a prayer, and with all my heart I thanked God for the storm.

I had no way of knowing exactly how far that barn was, but knowing its general direction I knew I could find it just by watching the sky. The sun would be my guide, just as my dad, Nathan, and my papaw always taught me, when I would go hunting with them in the woods for days. I knew the patterns of the sun and the moon and the seasons by heart.

I knew without even thinking that if I could reach that barn, I could continue over the hills and be only a small ways away from Nana and Papaw. The only problem with that was, what if what Daniel told me was true. Was I not wanted, or loved any longer? The very thought brought tears to my eyes again, and then with the sound of heavy boots on the porch, I remembered I was dirty and unworthy of a family anyway. I was now Daniel’s pet, attached to a dog leash. That’s who and what I was.

chapter Four

Every day, as soon as Daniel left the house, I would look for that blue barn. It didn’t take long to lose sight of it through the woods, after the trees put out their leaves. I continued to be sick off and on. I stayed hungry, but I seemed to gain a little weight over the next couple of months, nothing too noticeable.

I found myself obsessing about how to get free, and to that blue barn. I had very little energy and tired easily when I worked on the rings that held me captive. I knew if I did get away, Daniel would kill me. He assured me of this many times. I also knew I was dying slowly anyway, and it would be worth the chance, just to see home again.

Home was the place I knew better than anything else, in the dark or in the bright light of day—my grandparents’ home, old as it was, and big enough to get lost in. I thought hour by hour of Nana’s cooking, and the feel of Papaw’s calloused hands touching my face. His crazy songs my dad told me to never sing in public, and especially Sunday dinner after church. I remembered Nana’s old dusters she would wear on off days. I loved to get lost in them in the closet when I played.

I thought of the smell of wood polish and the sound of breaking runner beans. All that mattered in the world was getting to that blue barn. I was consumed by it, but I was trapped in the collar that refused to let me go as much as Daniel did.

In late May, I noticed a difference in Daniel and the way he would look at me. My brown eyes stayed bloodshot, and purple circles formed beneath them. My skin became even paler, almost see-through and my once reddish-blonde hair hung limp and dull down my back. I was withering like a tree that had been pruned too much and refused to grow any longer.

Something about the way I looked did not please Daniel. He was rougher with me and seemed disgusted with my weight gain. It was not until he asked me if I were pregnant that I even thought of the possibility. I had started my period just after my eleventh birthday. I had missed it, but I had no idea about babies. When he asked one night, looking at my swollen belly, if it were so, I immediately said no, being ignorant and naive. The next day, Daniel brought home a book about girls and their bodies, along with a pregnancy test.

I was pregnant, at twelve years old. I did not know or understand what was happening to me. Daniel would not allow any talk about it, and he was cruel most of the time once he knew. When he drank heavily, he would slap me and whip me with his belt. His drinking became heavier, as my stomach became bigger.

Judging by what the book for girls Daniel gave me, I was at least five months along when, in a drunken rage, Daniel whipped me so hard from head to feet, my flesh separated and peeled away from the wounds.  If I whined or complained, Daniel would pour pure alcohol on my open sores. It burned me to the point that my mouth watered from the agony. I could not scream, or I would pay for that as well.

Daniel beat me until he was exhausted from it. When he finally stopped, he laid back on the bed and began smoking, ordering me to lay down beside him. Holding my breath so not to whimper from pain, I did as he said. I closed my eyes and got my breathing even again. My side hurt, and I wondered if Daniel’s intention all along was trying to beat the baby out of me.

I began to really look at him for the first time in months. He was dozing slightly now, his mouth slightly parted completely relaxed. I was convinced he was not human, but evil in the flesh.

A lit cigarette dangled from his fingers, hovering over the ashtray. It was the first week of August and miserably hot. I had on my dirty T-shirt, and panties, which clung to my skin from sweat. The cotton rubbed at my injuries, causing them to burn. My body was not taking to the baby well. I was in my own little hell, sick and swollen.

I checked again. Daniel had passed out in his clothes, and barely sticking out of his pants I saw, with sheer delight, his keys. Keys I knew contained the key to the locked dog collar around my neck. In an instant I saw in my mind, me running to the barn I knew to be on the hill. By the light of the TV, I began to slowly work the keys from his pocket. I was sweating profusely, and the cigarette in his hand was nearly burned to the filter.

I moved as fast and as quietly as I could, fearing he would wake from the sound of the loud thumping of my heart. When the collar was unlocked, I peeled it away taking pieces of my skin with it. With the thing finally off of me, I sat in stunned disbelief at what I had just done.

I stared down at the collar in my hands. I do not know how or why, but I made the decision in that instant and placed it around Daniel’s neck. Sliding it through the small space between his neck and his pillow, I held my breath, and moved like I was playing the board game
Operation
and at any moment the buzzer would sound.

When the lock clicked down in place, Daniel’s eyes snapped open. He was on top of me choking me before I could blink. His fist flew at me, hitting my face, my stomach, and my sides. I fought for my life. Blood gathered in my teeth, and ran from the corners of my mouth.

You will not die here,
I thought. Although I knew I had prayed for it, I knew now I wanted to live.

I sucked in air that was chalky and ashy. Clutching the keys in my closed fist, I began to hit back connecting with Daniel’s left eye with the point of a key. Only giving me a moment of pause as he grabbed at his eye, I began trying to slide out from under the weight of his body.

I scrambled to my feet and ran. My head swam as I made it to the door, reaching for the knob when Daniel screamed a horrible scream. It froze me midway in turning the knob. I took a chance and looked behind me.

The bedroom was ablaze. Smoke poured from it, and flames were climbing the walls. The plywood sparked like it was soaked in gasoline. Horrified, I turned to go and help him out of the room. I nearly fell from the dizziness that hit me. I knew if I went back in that room I was a dead girl either way. He would kill me, or I would die from the fire.

I backed up to the door and turned the knob. I watched the fire in the open doorway just long enough to make sure Daniel was not coming out of the room to get me. I dropped the keys still clutched in my hand and ran through the backyard, into the woods. Bits of the ground tore at my feet, but I ignored the pain. I was halfway to the cover of the woods when I heard Daniel screaming for me to help him, screaming for me not to leave him there to die.

When I reached the trees, I turned back and watched the fire spread through the trailer. No more screaming could be heard. I stayed in the same spot, watching it burn, until I heard the county fire department coming up the drive.

I turned and ran heaving and bleeding through the woods to that blue barn. I did not want to see the firemen. Daniel had told me that if anyone ever found me, I would be locked up in a girls’ home. All I wanted was to go home, if I still had one. I stopped long enough to study the sky making sure I stayed on the right path that would lead me to where I knew the Logue family lived.

I hurt everywhere. My swollen stomach felt foreign as I moved. I had spent a long time indoors, shut away from the woods I loved so much. The fresh air fueled me on and noises through the trees whispered encouraging me to keep going. I tried to run, in case hogs were around. I knew the beasts could be vicious and would easily eat a human. I kept a steady pace, willing myself to go on.

Just before dawn I hit the dirt road that led to the Logues’ driveway. It was muddy, and I stumbled through the mud with my bare feet, trying to hang on to what little strength I had. The barn was not far now which meant Nana and Papaw were not far.

Just a little further
, I thought over and over.

I tripped and fell in a puddle, and for the life of me I could not get up. I was soaked and exhausted, hungry and weak. I lay watching the sky, saying my prayers, praying that Nana would bury me with my daddy when they found my body. I lay for so long, my fingers shriveled from the damp.

Flies and mosquitoes bit at me, but I could not swat them away. When the sun came up and began to dance on the trees, I watched paralyzed, knowing the birds would be around me soon, biting at me, thinking me road kill. I couldn’t blame them. It was their nature after all.

The heat and the smell of me drew them my way. I lay, letting the bugs feed on me, knowing this was the process of dead bodies. I accepted I was dead, so why stop them? My eyes were swollen shut now. I drifted away.

I was at the point of giving in and allowing the pain to take me deeper, when I heard someone shouting and the opening and closing of a truck door. Strong arms picked me up. I was carried to the bed of the truck, and I thought Daniel had found me. He had gotten out of the trailer, and I would be going back now, where I would die, and be buried in a cornfield, never seeing home again.