Her hand was shaking around the dry martini that she’d ordered, she whispered to herself at odd intervals, and, most worrying, the left side of her face was graced by a dark purple bruise.
My heart began to pound in my chest as my stomach burned with the stress of the situation. Oh, God. We were going to have to get through those rusted blades, shimmy out of the crawlspace… all before the creature saw us.
Molly didn’t much care for ink or piercings, but she did have one tattoo. A small one, and it was almost never visible. It was on her back, just a few inches below her neck. A tiny keyhole, no embellishments, no nothing.
Growing up, it hung as a shadow over my head. Mostly because my parents were always afraid that it was going to happen to me, or my little brother, Max. Of course, with my morose disposition and general introversion, I suppose I was the greater concern.
If you had three wishes, what would you choose? What wishes would be worth the price of your soul?
“What happened. At Lilac House?” I repeated, a bit of anger beginning to creep into my words.
She sighed as she settled in the chair across from me.
“Do you really want to know?” She asked.
I wasn’t sure, but I nodded anyway.
For years, I slept on bloody sheets once every month, with ghostly white one covering the single window in my room every night. At first, I thought of it as something I had to do, simply because my mother said it was best for me.
See, I wanted to see which party’s members were the best. Most honorable, most compassionate, most intelligent… the whole shebang. And I could think of only one way to determine the moral fiber of each.
“I wasn’t sure at first. But then Nikki called me this morning to tell me she’d seen her, too, and we talked about it, and…” She paused.“And what?” I prompted. “We didn’t… say goodbye.”
I realized that by starving it I was also starving myself, but that didn’t upset me, not really. I hated it, and so I would persevere through my own pain and sickness.