The room seemed dimmer without her in it. I crawled up in bed with Mom and sobbed as I held onto her. My body racked with uncontrolled sadness as I lost the only thing I cared about in this world.
She was gone. I was alone. Those two words echoed in my head—gone and alone.
I pushed off the door and decided I was ready to read the letter. Taking off the muddy boots, my footsteps carried me through the kitchen.
Everything in our two-bedroom home was simplistic and white. No decorations hung on the walls.
I raced to the top of the stairs as I jumped over the fourth step, avoiding the squeak. At the top, I turned right trying to avoid eye contact with my mom’s bedroom door. She had been alive in there twenty-four hours ago. My heart lurched as it imagined her behind it, waiting for me to come talk to her like I did every night.
The thud of my heart pulsed in my ears, creating a humming sound that felt like it disconnected me from the outside world. Looking around my simplistic room everything seemed emptier with my mom gone. I jogged to my twin bed, along the far wall and perched on the edge as I eyed the spindle nightstand. My stomach churned with unease as I wondered what the letter said.
I took off the lamp and sat it on the floor. Staring at the nightstand, I knew once I turned it over there was no going back, no pretending that my mom had been mistaken in what she had told me. This would become my reality and I was going to have to make a choice. A slight tremor started in my fingers.
The grained wood felt ridged as I ran my fingers over it. Taking a deep breath, I flipped over the nightstand. It didn’t weigh much, but it felt like it was one of the most significant steps I had taken in my life. On the underside, I saw the key affixed to the table that unlocked the trunk. Picking it up, I looked at the old iron ornate key.
I retraced my steps back out to the landing. Between Mom’s and my room were the steps that came down from the attic. I was tall but was still barely able to reach the string that pulled the ladder from the ceiling. A small creak sounded as the steps unfolded. As soon as they hit the floor, I scurried up the ladder.
Curiosity and fear of the unknown were driving me. The attic had a faint smell from the heat of the day.
In the far right corner sat the chest. Apprehensively, I walked toward it. My mom had told me a story about Alice in Wonderland. I felt like Alice going down a black hole. As I crouched in front of the chest, a crow came and perched on the ledge of the tiny octagonal window.
Caw.
Caw.
Caw.
The sound startled me like the bird was trying to tell on me as I fell back on my rear. The bird pecked twice at the window before flying off.
My erratic breathing quickened as my shaking hands put the key in the lock and turned it. The attic always gave me nightmares with the looming shadows that seemed to come out of nowhere.
Getting up on my knees, I opened the chest as it creaked in protest. On top was the quilt my mom had made for my wedding day. My hands traced over the stitching, memorizing the pattern. I took it out and put it aside. Underneath were more blankets and the dress I was to wear at my wedding. Each mom who had a daughter made a dress and quilt when they turned sixteen. They were not to see them until the day of the wedding where they were given over to a Watcher in holy matrimony. Males were not allowed to marry until they became Watchers.
In theory, a couple approached the Keeper to ask The Light if they had permission to marry. Scoffing, I wondered what had been truly visions or was everything a manipulation.
There was a black backpack I had never seen before at the bottom of the cedar lined trunk. I picked it up and sat cross legged on the floor. In the front zipper, there was an envelope with my name on it.
It was my mom’s handwriting. I caressed the words with love as the sun lowered in the sky. The last of the light shone through as I opened the envelope and a small key fell out. I read.
My dearest Kenzie (Sarah),
If you are reading this, it means I am no longer with you. I’m sorry I left you alone and that you’re possibly confused right now. Time is limited as I can’t get caught writing this letter before someone comes to check on me. I’m too weak now to make it to the doctor in the outside world for the proper medication, whatever it may be.
Sarah, your real name is Kenzie Samantha Brooks. My real name is Jessica Brooks. Your father’s name was David Brooks. We came to The Society when you were almost three, after your father had died in a motorcycle accident. My world was lost. I had no family, no way to support us, no hope left for survival. One day, we were at a park in a nearby town. The Keeper approached me and called himself Jacob. I’m sure I looked lost and lonely.
I don’t have time to explain how we came to The Society, but there’s another letter at the address listed at the end this note that explains everything.
When we came here, I told the Keeper your real name was Maggie. I’m not sure why I lied, but it was a good decision. At The Society we were isolated, had a home, no bills, and were able to be together. You and I were left alone and it was the closest thing to feeling
complete I could imagine.
As years passed, I began to see that those who completely succumbed to the ways of The Society were lifeless and hollow. They lacked that spark. I feared that would happen to you. The moment you appeared lost or a vision came for you to be married, we were going to leave. There was no way I would ever ask you to marry someone that you didn’t love as much as I loved your dad. I know you think you and Matthew are supposed to be together because of what The Keeper said. All I ask is that you search your heart, Kenzie. Make sure it’s not because it’s expected for you to marry him.
Kenzie, you have a gift for life, and a beautiful inquisitive mind. Don’t let that flame become an ember and die out. Don’t let it be snuffed and the vibrant Kenzie I have always known become smoke within the wind dissipating into nothing.
My only regret is that I didn’t get you out of here before I died.
Kenzie, I only gave about twenty-five percent of what I had to The Society. Everything else, I put in a safety deposit box along with more things from your father and me. The choice is yours Kenzie. The key in the envelope goes to the safety deposit box at the bank address listed below. Your birth certificate is at the bottom of this backpack and will be enough to get you into the security box. I was able to sneak the money and the certificate in when we initially came here. It’s been underneath the boards of one of the steps.