Page 1 of Zade (Den of Sin)

Prologue

AMIRA

Past-

Ten Years old…

Like every other day, I come home from school excited to tell my mom about my day. We have this ritual, she always has a snack ready for me to eat. Some days it’s cookies or brownies and sometimes it’s healthier snacks like apples and peanut butter. I don’t mind. I love peanut butter more than I love life. I already know that she’ll be so excited when I tell her I got the lead role in the school play. Mom and I have seen every movie about princesses. When I got the part of Belle I was so excited I almost cried. Walking home with my best friend, Cyndi, I’m ready to take off running so I can share my news. The excitement has been building since the moment I left school. I try to tamper down the grin on my face, but can’t. The excitement is over the top.

I have lived in the Las Vegas area since I was born. When I say Las Vegas people not from here get the wrong idea and think we live on the strip or something. We don’t; we live in a residential area like all normal people do. There’s a lot to sin city as they call it that doesn’t involve casinos. I was a lonely girl before meeting my best friend. The day she moved in was the best day of my life. Cyndi lives three houses down from ours. We walk to and from school together every day. We met in first grade when her family moved here from Detroit. Mom says we are thick as thieves but I don’t know what that’s supposed to mean because we don’t steal.

My mom has been sleeping a lot. Zade says she’s tired but I don’t know why. She left her job a few months ago but nobody ever told me why. I’m just a kid so nobody tells me anything. Zade always says, ‘kids don’t need to be involved with grown-up problems’, whatever that means. When he moved into the guest bedroom, he said the same thing then too. Kids aren’t allowed to keep secrets but grown-ups can. I don’t like it.

We walk along the sidewalk, avoiding the grass in Ms. Meyers's yard because she screams if we get too close. Modest homes fill the area and flowers, so many flowers. She has yellow flowers in her yard that I’d like to stop and smell but I can’t. She still hasn’t forgotten when I picked one of her roses when I was six years old. If she sees me sniffing the flowers, she’ll chase me again. I breathe a sigh of relief when we make it past her house and to Cyndi’s red brick one without catching the old woman’s attention. We say goodbye at the end of her gravel driveway but we both know I’ll call her as soon as I finish with my homework. It’s the same every day. Snack. Homework. Call Cyndi. She says she’s my ride-or-die. I believe her. After she walks up her driveway, I run to my house, until I spot flashing lights. Why is there an ambulance at my house? Panic settles in and makes my tummy hurt. I run toward the house as I spot men taking my mom out on a stretcher, she’s bloody. My eyes lock on her unmoving body on the stretcher. Her brown hair is sweaty and stuck to her skin. “No! Mommy!” I yell as I try to run to her but Zade rushes toward me and holds me tight. Trying to fight him, I squirm to get out of his arms but he’s too strong. Why is he stopping me from seeing my mom?

My fists tighten, and the heaviness in my chest hurts, “Let me go,” I cry but he doesn’t let me go.

“What happen-ed,” I stutter slightly.

“Come inside, we’ll talk.”

He releases me and I follow him inside as the ambulance pulls away with my mom. My heart is screaming, I want to go with her.

I sit down with Zade in the living room as he stares at me with an unreadable emotion. I don’t know what’s going on but I’m tired of being treated like a dumb kid.

“Your mom is sick and needs to go to the hospital.”

What kind of sickness makes you bleed? I don’t understand this at all.

“Sick with what?”

He sighs loudly, “Depression.”

I know what depression is but I don’t believe it. I’ve never seen my mom cry at all. She can’t be depressed, and that doesn’t make you bleed anyway.

“Depression doesn’t make you bleed, Zade.”

I’m smarter than he gives me credit for. I’m determined, this time I’m going to be told the truth. I’m not taking his normal ‘grown-up stuff’ response.

“She tried to take her life, Amira.”

“Take her life?” I echo his words not completely understanding what he means.

He places his hand over mine, and says, “She tried to commit suicide.”

Suicide. I know what that is because there was a girl in my school who killed herself last year. All the kids that knew her had to see a guidance counselor to make sure they were okay. I knew her because she was friends with a girl I sometimes play with. He has to be wrong though because my mom would never leave me. She would never die on purpose and abandon me.

“Mommy wouldn’t do that.”

I yank my hand out of his grip and fold my arms across my chest, “I want to go see her,” I demand.

He shakes his head, “She won’t be allowed to see anyone for a few days. She’ll be in the hospital on what they call an involuntary hold. It’s the law. I will take you to see her as soon as the doctors say she can have visitors.”

I stand up from my seat and run to my bedroom with tears running down my face. I want to see my mommy. That’s all I need.

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Present-

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