Sisters of Misery (11 page)

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Authors: Megan Kelley Hall

Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Fantasy & Magic, #Family, #General, #Social Issues, #Friendship

BOOK: Sisters of Misery
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“I would stop unless you want to be next, Maddie,” hissed Kate. Then she stepped toward the group. “Stop!” she ordered. “Cordelia has appeased the element of Earth.”

The girls pulled back one by one with ragged, heavy breaths. Cordelia lay crumpled and limp on the ground, her entire body cut and bruised and muddied.

Kate Endicott stepped forward, shaking her long hair out of her triumphant face, her eyes glowing orange in the light from the bonfire. “Are we ready for Fire?”

 

 

Kate insisted that they were being kind to Cordelia by doing Fire before Water. The water would have washed off all of the mud, and therefore, the matches that the girls put out on Cordelia’s skin would have stung more. Kate was feeding all of them a neverending supply of wine. The drunker the girls got, the more vicious they became, taking every opportunity to ruin Cordelia’s beauty and destroy her spirit. Kate instructed the girls to tie Cordelia’s delicate arms behind the Sacred Birch—or the Tree of Life, as Kate had begun to call it for some reason—and to force-feed her wine, all the while assuring Maddie that it would help Cordelia numb any pain she might be feeling.

Maddie watched in horror as Cordelia withstood the slow torture of the burns inflicted upon her skin. Her eyes had glazed over, and she no longer showed any signs of pain. Never in her life had Maddie felt so paralyzed with fear…and something else. She felt sluggish and heavy, similar to the way she felt that night at Trevor’s party. Only, the euphoria she’d felt that night was replaced with a growing anxiety and paranoia. It was just as much of a punishment to sit by helplessly while Cordelia withstood so much agony and degradation.

Maddie desperately wanted to help Cordelia, but felt like she was spiraling down a tunnel. It was as if the world was actually shifting beneath her feet, and the sounds were getting more and more muffled as the ritual went on. Maddie wanted to run, but her body wasn’t functioning properly. She felt like she was viewing the scene through a fish eye lens. Grotesque shapes swirled around her as she tried to clear her head and figure out a way to get them both safely off the island.

After the girls made burn marks up and down Cordelia’s arms and legs, they decided that the Fire element could only be completely appeased by charring the ends of Cordelia’s hair. Luckily, the mud and water caked into her hair prevented her whole head from going up in flames. By the time they were through with fire, Cordelia’s hair hung muddied and tangled, with uneven scorched ends trailing down her back and along her scarred back and arms.

For the Air ritual, the girls danced around their bruised and bloodied “sister” and screamed cruel and vicious insults.

Slut

whore

bitch

trailer trash

loser
…The insults went on and on.

Maddie was crying as she walked in the circle with the other girls, Cordelia at its center. Through her tears, Maddie became mesmerized by the green and blue bonfire, the flames licking out with pointed tongues.

Circles, circles, everything in cycles
. Maddie could hear her grandmother’s words ringing in her ears, the sounds of the girls’ shouts and giddy yelps muffled by Tess’s voice in her head,
how could you let this happen to your own flesh and blood? I warned you, Maddie. I told you to be afraid, but you couldn’t see. You didn’t listen. Now you’re one of them. One of
them…

Maddie shook her head, barely able to walk, and the world was spinning; the salty night air was heavy. The girls’ voices faded in and out as she was carried and shoved forward by the others. Finally, it was time to appease the element of Water. Kate shoved a bucket into Maddie’s arms and told her to run down to the ocean and fill it up.

As Maddie turned to go, she caught a glimpse of Cordelia and screamed. It was as if her nightmare had come to life. Cordelia was slumped down against the tree; the blindfold hung around her neck like a noose, her mouth, slack and slightly parted, her chin on her chest. Maddie’s head was pounding; her tongue had grown three sizes too large for her mouth. Still, she screamed “How could you do this to her? You’re evil! You’re all evil bitches, and you’re going to pay for this!”

She heaved the bucket into the stone ruins and ran blindly toward the boat. She would get the motor started somehow and make it back to shore to get help. She had to. The ritual had already gone too far. How much further would Kate take it? She was almost to the boat when something hit her in the back of the head. Maddie stumbled, but regained her footing and heaved herself toward the shore, sobbing uncontrollably. She splashed into the water and fell over the side of the boat. As she chanced a look backward, trying to see who was following her, she was met with another blinding blow, this time to her forehead.

She heard a low chuckle, which was nearly drowned out by the relentless crashing of the ocean.

Everything went black.

Chapter 9
 
LAGUZ REVERSED

WATER

Stormy Waters and Emotional Turmoil; A Time of
Confusion, Deception, Uncertainty

 

NOVEMBER

 

“W
here is she?” Rebecca screeched, pulling Maddie up by her shoulders into a sitting position in her bed. The Sunday afternoon light poured into Maddie’s bedroom, quickly banishing the nightmarish images of Misery Island from her mind. Maddie blinked her eyes furiously, trying to bring the room into focus while at the same time wondering how and when she got home.

Tess stood in the doorframe, looking at Maddie with great disappointment. She knows what happened last night, Maddie thought, even though it was impossible. But if Tess suspected anything, she didn’t let on. Instead, she stood silently in the doorway as Rebecca raged over Cordelia’s absence.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Maddie insisted. Every inch of her body screamed in pain. She finally understood the full meaning of the expression “being put through the ringer.” Her head throbbed from the alcohol and the huge bump on her forehead. Someone had hit her, but who? She knew that Cordelia was still out on the island. They were supposed to retrieve her at dawn, but judging from the bright daylight streaming through the window, obviously Maddie hadn’t made the trip back out to Misery Island. “What time is it?”

“What time is it?” Rebecca said in a mocking tone. “What TIME is it? I think it’s time that you told me where the hell my daughter is.”

Maddie glanced at the clock. It was past noon, and Cordelia should have been home by now. The previous night’s events were hazy. Vaguely, she remembered being discovered, sprawled across her front stoop by her mother in the early hours of the morning, dropped off in haste by the other members of the Sisters of Misery. Abigail had dragged her into the house, hissing, “Are we running a brothel here? Are you and Cordelia trying to destroy my reputation?”

What
did
happen last night? She looked down and saw that her hands were cut and bloodied before quickly shoving them under the covers. “Umm…I-I don’t know. Honestly, I don’t. I mean, maybe she just crashed at a friend’s house?”

“Friends? What friends?” Rebecca demanded. “Those girls I told you both to stay away from? The ones that I saw that were…were nothing but trouble?
Those
friends? You’re Cordelia’s only friend.”

Those words struck Maddie like a thunderbolt. She was all Cordelia had, her only friend. And she brought her out to Misery Island with those girls—those evil, evil girls.

 

 

After washing the grime and sand and stink of wine off of herself in a scalding shower, Maddie remained hopeful, telling herself that Cordelia would walk through the door at any moment. But when the steam from the shower faded from the bathroom mirror, Maddie noticed the huge bruise on her forehead. She’d have to make something up quickly. She brushed her long bangs to the side, covering the growing welt. She snuck into her bedroom to call Kate and the others, but no one was answering. Maddie wondered if they were all still out on the island and if she should try to get back out there to see what was going on, yet she knew there was no chance that Abigail or Rebecca would let her out of the house. Not until Cordelia came home safely.

When Maddie emerged from her bedroom after unsuccessfully trying to reach any of the Sisters of Misery, she was met by Rebecca, Abigail, and Tess and another barrage of questions. She explained the bruise by saying that she’d been hurt at field hockey practice, but she knew that no one was buying it. Tess, looking at her as if she was reading her mind, was shaking her head disappointedly.

Rebecca made Maddie recount the events of the night again and again. Maddie knew that she couldn’t implicate Kate and the others for fear of repercussions, so she kept her answers as vague as possible.

“We went swimming down at the cove.”

“Who else was there?”

“Just us…at first…”

“Were those girls involved? Did they do something to my Cordelia?”

“Yes…I mean, no. Yes, they were there, but we were just swimming and drinking and, um…I don’t know what the other girls were doing.”

“Did they drug her?”

“No.”

“Are you lying?”

“No.”

“Did they drown my baby girl?” Rebecca cried.

“No!” Maddie said vehemently. The questions from Rebecca, Abigail, and Tess swirled around her, and soon she didn’t know where one question ended and the other began. Rebecca’s voice was accusatory at first, then despondent. The women whispered amongst themselves and watched Maddie for signs, clues as to what might have happened.

Maddie was torn. If she told them about the Sisters of Misery or what had gone on at Misery Island, who knew what Kate would do to her? She now knew that Kate was capable of anything. Maybe even murder. Maddie shivered and pushed the thought from her mind.

Rebecca raced around the house, checking every closet, peeking under every bed, leaving nothing unturned, while Maddie and Tess stood by helplessly. After the house had been thoroughly searched, Rebecca began calling everyone in town. She went through the phone book, name by name, number by number. Then, when the four walls of the house could no longer contain her, Rebecca and Maddie walked the entire town by foot, searching every path, knocking on every door, asking everyone they came into contact with. “My daughter?” Rebecca would plead, extending a picture to whoever she passed. The more they searched, the more withdrawn Rebecca became. It got to the point where Maddie had to do all of the talking and Rebecca just stood by her side, a look of anguish painted across her face.

As the daylight hours waned and the evening sank heavily onto all of them, Maddie had to face what her instincts had been telling her all day: something that happened out on Misery Island was preventing Cordelia from coming home. An investigation into Cordelia’s disappearance began later that evening, though it was much too early to officially declare her missing. It was midnight—almost twenty-four hours since Maddie had last seen Cordelia—when Officer Garrett Sullivan came to their house.

They all gathered in the living room as Officer Sullivan asked Maddie again and again about the last time she’d seen her cousin. Maddie, trying to think of a way to lead the police in the right direction without giving up too many details about the night out on Misery, gave him the same short, noncommittal answers she’d given her family. She knew that she wasn’t helping the investigation, but a part of her felt the need to hold back. Wasn’t she just as responsible as the others? Hadn’t she gone along with it? Maddie tried to think of a way to word the events of the night, but each time she sank deeper and deeper, as if Cordelia’s blood were on her own hands as much as anyone else’s.

Kate may have done all the dirty work, but Maddie had brought Cordelia out there. Didn’t that make her just as guilty? She was so ashamed, that she couldn’t bring herself to say anything to her family. How could they ever look at her the same way again?

“Is she dating anyone? Does she have any enemies? When was the last time you spoke with her? Has she seemed nervous lately? Is she in the habit of just taking off? Who are her friends? Do you know if anyone held a grudge against her?” Sullivan shot questions at Maddie as though she were the target on a firing range.

Gulping breaths of air down between her answers and sobs, Maddie tried to give a clear picture of Cordelia to the small-town cop, a guy barely out of school himself who she remembered as a big drinker and partier not so very long ago. Who’s to say that he wasn’t involved in Cordelia’s disappearance? she thought. Cordelia was beautiful, unattainable, free-spirited, and rebellious. That made just about everyone in town a suspect—even Maddie.

 

 

The next day at school, Cordelia’s empty desk served as a reminder that nobody was safe. Flowers were heaped upon Cordelia’s homeroom desk in a makeshift memorial. Maddie almost started to think warmly of her classmates until Kate and Bridget started weaving them into each other’s hair.

Lunch that afternoon was the first time the Sisters of Misery had a chance to discuss the events of Halloween. Maddie suggested that the girls go to the police with their version of the night’s events leading up to Cordelia’s vanishing.

“Are you insane, Maddie? Maybe you want to go to jail for being an accomplice to a crime, but I certainly don’t,” snapped Kate.

“What do you think could have happened to her?” Maddie asked.

“Don’t pull that innocent crap with me, Maddie. You were right there with us all night. You know
exactly
what happened,” Kate hissed and then lowered her voice. “And if any of you want to find out firsthand how it felt to go through Cordelia’s
special
initiation, feel free to go to the police. Tell the world, I don’t care. Just prepare yourself for an even more exciting night on Misery Island.”

Maddie shuddered at Kate’s threat. She ran the events of that night through her mind again and again, but they just weren’t coming together logically. She didn’t have any memories between running to the boat and being dumped on her front porch, then waking up to Rebecca’s screams the next morning. Could she have helped Cordelia off the island and just blocked it out? The girls said that when they returned the next morning to retrieve Cordelia, she was already gone. Somewhere between Misery and Mariner’s Way, Cordelia had simply disappeared.

“I don’t see how we had anything to do with her actual disappearance,” Darcy insisted, almost as if she was trying to convince herself as well as the others. “I mean, just ’cause we brought her out there doesn’t mean we’re responsible for her. Maybe she was kidnapped or something?”

“How do we even know something bad happened?” Kate demanded. “For all we know, she could be hiding somewhere just to get us all in trouble for what happened out on Misery. Maybe she wants us to sweat it out for a while. You know, payback for what we did to her.”

Kate’s idea seemed plausible enough for the other girls, but Maddie wasn’t convinced. It seemed insane to Maddie that the world kept moving on, indifferent as air, when Cordelia was undoubtedly out there somewhere, feeling hurt, scared, and alone. Classes went on as usual. Students followed their daily routine. It was as if Cordelia LeClaire had never existed. And no one seemed to care.

At the end of the school day, all the girls gathered at Maddie’s locker. “Come on, let’s go see what news stations are in town. I’ll bet they even have national news cameras here,” Kate said excitedly, as if this were her shot at stardom.

Maddie was following the girls glumly down the corridor when she again had that sticky feeling of being watched. She glanced behind her and thought she saw a figure move quickly out of sight, like a shadow disappearing into thin air. Maddie turned to see if any of the other girls had noticed, but they were chatting away, trying to plan a way to get in front of the cameras.

“Come on, Crane,” Darcy yelled back to her. “We don’t want you to disappear on us, too!” The girls snickered at the cruel joke.

How can this be funny to them? Do they even understand how serious this is?
Maddie thought. A lump formed in her throat as she realized that none of them really cared about what happened to Cordelia. As long as they didn’t get in trouble, it didn’t matter to them. Not one bit.

 

 

Any time a pretty girl goes missing, it becomes the top news story of the day. News of Cordelia’s disappearance eventually spread beyond the local media, for a little while at least. News vans crowded the narrow streets. Reporters knocked on doors. Policemen and the K-9 units scoured the wooded areas.

It was the hot story of the moment, and everyone put on a great show, especially the Sisters of Misery. Crying for the news cameras that had come from Boston, Kate wiped tears from her freckled cheeks as Bridget clung to her friend, head resting on her shoulder.

“She was our best friend. We miss you, Cordelia. We love you,” cried Kate.

“Whoever took her from us is a horrible person and should be punished,” Bridget chimed in.

Maddie was overcome by a wave of nausea as she marched alongside Kate and the Sisters of Misery, who led a candlelight vigil that evening. It was an obvious ploy for the media’s attention and would no doubt be carried on stations across the country and end up in newspapers across the globe. For a day or two. But no matter how many people were interviewed by the local channels or how many officers were dispatched to search the town, the truth of the matter was this: Cordelia wasn’t one of their own. Even though Rebecca Martin LeClaire was originally from Hawthorne, she had left town long ago, and Cordelia was considered a newcomer. The urgency just didn’t exist, and it was evident in everyone, from the town officials to the police department to the local volunteers.

When someone goes missing the way Cordelia had, their disappearance leaves echoes and shadows like that of an empty room, stripped of furnishings or inhabitants. Stories swirled around the investigation, everyone in town claiming to have seen Cordelia at one point or another, each tale more unusual than the next. Everyone seemed to have a story about the mysterious teenager who chased fireflies in the evening and danced by the moonlight on Old Burial Hill.

“Yes, yes, I definitely remember seeing the girl around town at night. Always saw her running
around with a different boy. Girls like that should be more careful. They just bring trouble on themselves.”

 

“The LeClaire girl? Saw her wandering past our store as she usually does after school. I had just put out some of our clearance racks, and I recall her pulling out one of those multicolored gypsy skirts. She held it up and sort of swirled around with it for a bit. But no, she didn’t buy it. Just hung it right back on the rack.”

 

“Rebecca LeClaire’s child? The flower shop girl? I did see her on that day, now that you mention it. She was waiting in line at the post office ahead of me. The girl was mailing a letter—every inch of the envelope was covered with butterflies and hearts. I remember thinking she was such an odd girl.”

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