Melt

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Authors: Selene Castrovilla

BOOK: Melt
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Advance Praise for MELT:

 

“Dorothy and Joey's plight is both an inner and an outer struggle, a reckoning with a cold world, and a psychological drama about the stakes of truth-telling that ends with a gratifying act of mercy. A fresh, emotionally complex bildungsroman of young American love that looks long and hard at violence, and at what can overcome it.”

—Kirkus Reviews


Melt
is evocative, emotional, vivid, and powerful. Beautiful, painful, and ultimately healing,
Melt
is a gripping read that will make you feel and care about the characters.”

—Cheryl Rainfield, award-winning author of SCARS and STAINED

“It was so well-written. If I were to meet Selene right now, I'd clap in front of her for she has written something painfully real and beautiful.”

—The Quirky Reader

“MELT was one of the most powerful, stunning books I've read all year … Castrovilla sets MELT against a Wizard of Oz backdrop and the L. Frank Baum passages offer a unique insight into the plot of MELT.

The plot was incredibly real, raw, and painful. Castrovilla takes on many different subjects, such as abuse, addiction, and first love. Despite the heavy subject matter, this novel reads extremely quickly and is amazingly well-written.

If you are a fan of realistic, contemporary fiction, this novel should be a MUST READ. Bravo to Selene Castrovilla on writing one of the best books of 2014.”

—Lady Reader's Bookstuff


Melt
 … reminded me of why I love to read. My heart was literally pounding … I couldn't put it down.”

—Eve's Fan Garden

“This is such a captivating read from the start. I got so involved with the characters that I was afraid to leave them, afraid that I might miss out on something big if I stop reading.”

—The Cursed Empire

“I get the writing style of
Melt
isn't for everyone. It's written as verse, poetic-like. But the book is so deep, but yet such an easy read. I'll never forget it. NEVER.

And I'll forever recommend it as a must-read. The fact that she could introduce these deep characters in such a structure and make me feel like I know them is mind blowing.

I have nothing but praise to the author … she created a powerful book that will forever hunts the reader. Poignant and entirely realistic, MELT is a book that should NEVER be missed.”

—Her Book Thoughts!

“All I could think was ‘God help them'. And I couldn't stop reading.”

—Sheri's Reviews, Goodreads

“Different. Intense. Perfect.

This story was all of these, and so much more.”

—Bibilophilia, Goodreads

 

 

 

Melt

 

 

 

by

Selene Castrovilla

 

 

 

 

 

“Instantly the wicked woman gave a loud cry of fear, and then, as Dorothy looked at her in wonder, the Witch began to shrink and fall away.

‘See what you have done!' she screamed. ‘In a minute I shall melt away.'

‘I'm very sorry, indeed,' said Dorothy, who was truly frightened to see the Witch actually melting away like brown sugar before her eyes.

‘Didn't you know water would be the end of me?' asked the Witch, in a wailing, despairing voice.

‘Of course not,' answered Dorothy. ‘How should I?'”

 

—From
The Wonderful Wizard of Oz
by L. Frank Baum

 

 

 

For Joe Donovan

 

Thanks to my friends, who have been life support over the years. Thanks to my fans, whose connection with my work has provided me with satisfaction and happiness beyond all conceptions. Thanks to my sons, who give me joy, unconditional love and latitude when I'm writing.

No Place Like Home

 

“‘What shall we do?' asked the Tin Woodman.
‘If we leave her here she will die,' said the Lion.”

—From
The Wonderful Wizard of Oz
by L. Frank Baum

      Mom stopped crying a

long

time ago.

Now

she don't even

whimper

when he does it. He comes

home

in his steel blue shirt shiny black shoes shiny tie clip shining

badge

he blows in and the screen door

slams

behind him like it's pissed off

he's

back.

He comes in shuts the front door clicks the lock closed

he wipes his shoes on the mat

back and forth

back

and

forth he pads across the shit-brown carpet without a sound

his eyes are empty his eyes are

dark his eyes are

wrought

lead like his

Glock.

      I catch a whiff of his favorite mouthwash

Jack

Daniel's

he used to smell of Listerine and Jack but he don't bother trying to

cover

up

these days.

Without a look he goes past me and Jimmy and Warren. Warren's got his textbooks spread out across the couch but he ain't studying

not

no more. Grim music drifts from our video game low

chilling

sounds like any second the reaper's gonna

strike. Me and Jimmy we're playing
Halo
on Xbox, least we were ‘til

he

came

back. It's like we're paused

we're all on

pause whenever

Pop

comes

home.

We ain't putting down the controls ‘cause if we look at him if we act like we're paying attention to what he's doing then he

might

come

after

us

next.

The freakish
Halo
music plays on and

on and

on. He heads through the arch to the kitchen his shoes

stamping on the green

linoleum he goes right over to

her

at the stove cooking his goddamn mashed potatoes stirring

stirring

stirring she don't move don't run she just stirs

stirs

stirs

he says

nothing

to her to the

girl he married to the

mother

of his kids he comes behind her at the stove

his shoes squeak he

grabs

her

the spoon plops in the potatoes no not even a plop not a sound it

sinks soundless

like

her.

He holds her against him blue sleeve on white apron

squeezing

squeezing

squeezing into her ribs like he's doing the Heimlich

his tie clip presses in her back

he sticks his semi-automatic piece of crap weapon in her mouth clanks

it against her teeth shoves

it

down

her

throat clicks

off the safety and she don't

make a sound

she

just

stands there and takes it. Not a peep not a flinch not a blink of panic

nothing she just takes it she

melts

for him

melts like the butter she stirred in his mashed potatoes made from

scratch

peeled one by one

eyes carved out

she

melts she just disappears

she's

gone.

Like every husband in the world kisses his wife like this.

Like she

deserves

it like she did something that'd

make

it

okay

for the man who

swore

to

love and cherish her

to do

this

in front of

me.

      Hey, I saw the video.

There wasn't nothing in those vows ‘bout guns or fists neither for that matter. Do you Caitlyn Ruby Shields promise to take a pounding anytime Joseph Thomas Riley damn well feels like laying one on? No, I don't think Father Gallagher mentioned that.

God I

hate

that name I

hate that I'm

named

after

him. My pop I mean. Not Father Gallagher.

      Mom in her satin white dress with the lacy veil and the puffed

sleeves the long

train

dragging

behind her the big-ass bouquet of white roses she

cradled

in her arms

poor

Mom she looked so happy no one told her ‘bout the guns. And

him

he's standing there by Father Gallagher in his black tux black bow-tie

that

prick

he's always

so neat

looking

so smug

hair slicked

back I could've killed him even then if

only

I was born.

      That's a

lie

I can't even

kill

him

now.

I just sit here

pretending

to

play

Halo
while my mom gets a Glock rammed down her throat I can't even save my mom from this piece of shit who goes out to serve

and

protect

all day

some

joke.

      She stopped crying like five years ago.

      She stopped crying when I was twelve.

      Me I never cried much not in front of him he warned me not to.

He told us me and my brothers not to let one tear drop on the carpet or we'd get it too. He don't hit us much he just

says

he might.

Me and Jimmy we're pussies I guess Warren's nine what could he do but me and Jimmy we sit there

day

after

day fingers touching stupid useless buttons day after

day night after

night he hits her hits

her hits

her and we watch.

Week after

week month

after month we

watch.

She gets slammed

into walls so hard pictures fall she gets shoved

so rough his finger marks are in her arm she gets thrown

to the floor and kicked

kicked

kicked

and we hold our controls and we hold our breaths and watch we

watch

we watch.

      Warren cries in bed. I check on him before I go to sleep, stick my head in his door. The blankets are pulled up over him he's just a

lump

underneath. There's no noise but the covers shake he's under there holding it

all

in

I know ‘cause I did that too.

He's only nine.

He'll learn to cut that shit

soon

enough.

      Me and Jimmy we don't cry.

      And she don't cry neither.

      So

what's the

problem maybe this is

normal maybe this is

life maybe everybody on Long Island does this behind the doors they close and lock when they come

home.

      This's all I know and

maybe

this's right but it

don't feel right I wanna help her

but

I

don't.

      I watch Mom suck steel and then we all eat. We sit at the

table slide our chairs in

we pick up our forks

like

nothing.

Pass the potatoes.

Part One

Munchkinland

“She was awakened by a shock, so sudden and severe that if Dorothy had not been lying on the soft bed she might have been hurt. As it was, the jar made her catch her breath and wonder what had happened; and Toto put his cold little nose into her face and whined dismally. Dorothy sat up and noticed that the house was not moving; nor was it dark, for the bright sunshine came in at the window, flooding the little room. She sprang from her bed and with Toto at her heels ran and opened the door.”

—From
The Wonderful Wizard of Oz
by L. Frank Baum

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