Heart Thief - The Sinister Fairy Tales

“I realize you’re upset with me, but Mary’s father has been speaking with mine about a possible union, and I can’t…I won’t have anyone but you as my wife. This was always the plan, we just have to do it sooner than you want to.”

“Sooner than I want to?” I question.

“I’ve been ready to have you as my wife since you turned sixteen and gave me your virginity.”

It was painful and over within minutes—the biggest disappointment of that day—and I was fifteen. I want to tell him, but nothing I say penetrates his comprehension.

“Let me sleep on it. Can we talk more tomorrow please?” I beg, intentionally all too aware there won’t be a tomorrow for me here. Tonight, I’m leaving with Claudia. It will hurt my mother, but I need to find out what happened to Clara. I owe her that—and I owe it to myself to see what made her want to leave, what was so alluring she needed to return to. I need to never have to look at Eli’s face conscious of what he’s capable of.

“Okay. Tomorrow. Mona…I love you. I promise I won’t take another wife. You’re it for me, forever. Remember that.”

“What about when there are more cleansings? Megan could be walking around pregnant with your child,” I argue.

“God’s child. You understand cleansings are about God’s forgiveness. No man taking part are required to be with her afterward.”

You make me sick.

“I need to sleep.”

“Okay. I love you.”

Closing the window, I pull the drapes across and gather myself, trying to clear my thoughts. I leave the candy under my pillow for when my mother comes to look for me. She’ll recognize why I had to go and hopefully forgive me for breaking the promise I made to her.

I hear the front door open and close. My parents’ voices carry through the house. Holding my breath, fear clogs my throat when heavy footfalls pound toward my room. The door opens, and my father waltzes inside with a toolbox.

“Father?” I ask as he goes to my window and begins hammering nails into it.

No!

Dread burrows into the marrow of existence, splintering my soul.

How could he know? Eli?

Without even acknowledging me, he goes to my door and affixes a small bolt before shutting the door. I rush toward it, but the clicking of the lock tells me what I already concluded: I’m a prisoner.

Switching off the light, I crawl onto the bed, grab my pillow, and scream into it. I want to call out to the afterlife and beg Clara to come for me. I’d rather be dead than a prisoner for the rest of my life.

My eyes feel heavy. The day has taken its toll.

But if I sleep, I’m admitting defeat, and it’s all over. The necklace gripped tight in my fist feels like a ticking timebomb.

It was a warning rather than a sign.

The shadows creep into my room, chasing away the light, camouflaging me in their shelter. Soon, it’ll be midnight. I’ve waited five long years for this, and now it’s being stolen away from me.

My sister’s death and Megan’s cleansing play on repeat in my mind, eating away at me.

We deserve answers and to seek liberty. Megan wanted freedom. If I can gain that, it will be more than just for myself. It will be for Clara and Megan and all the girls like us.

Packing my bag as quietly as possible, I shove it beneath my bed. As soon as that bolt unlocks, I’m going to find a way to get out of here.

I want to claw at my own skin as I watch the clock. A soft click drags my attention to my bedroom door slowly opening. My mother stands there staring at me, pain in her eyes. With a shaky finger held against her lips she murmurs, “Shhh,” and then she’s gone.

I want to cry, but manage to refrain.

She’s letting me go.

She’s freeing me.

I snatch up the bag from beneath the bed. My heart beats like a war drum. Every second feels like a fight for survival. If I’m caught, it’s game over. My father will never allow me out of his sight, and Eli will never forgive me. Pulling the strap of my bag over my shoulder, I creep through the house. The front door is open for me.

Thank you, Mother.

I race from the house, heading straight toward the dock, and check my watch.

11:55.

She’s there. I see her. “Claudia,” I whisper, gaining her attention. Relief settles into her features as a smile tugs at her lips. “You came.” She exhales.

We embrace for a second, grateful to each other for being here. Rows of big fishing boats line the dock, along with three supply boats and a couple smaller wooden boats hidden in between. Nerves chew away at my insides. A rush of anxiety stirs through me as she pushes me up the dock and takes my bag from me while keeping watch of our surroundings.