Page 107 of Chalk Outline
“What if my husband is still alive?”
“How did he die?”
“An explosion.”
His body was burned, and the police couldn’t identify him from his teeth because his DNA wasn’t in the database. I already knew they wouldn’t, because he didn’t exist. But the whole thing was just… unrealistic. Grandma would’ve handled it herself without the police, like she always does.”
“There’s nothing I can say that will confirm or deny it. I don’t know. If you trust your instincts, keep following them.”
“I’m just so caught up in my head sometimes. What if I didn’t do enough? What if I didn’t tell him how much I loved him and how proud I was to be his wife? I knew my grandma disapproved of our relationship, but my desire for him was stronger than anything else. I hope he didn’t feel pain in his final moments if he was in that place. That thought devastates me. He didn’t deserve that. He didn’t deserve to die in such a brutal way.”
“When was the last time you saw him?”
A deep sigh escapes my lips. “On my twenty-sixth birthday. He said he wanted to make babies with me if I wanted to. I knew he wanted his own family because he never had one. Most of the bodyguards my grandma employs are people from the fringes of society: kids who are overlooked and those seeking a second chance.”
“Your grandma knows her way around society’s outcasts. What was it like when you were a kid?”
“Lonely…” The word trails off. “I didn’t have friends because I wasn’t allowed to leave the house. I was homeschooled. My safety was always in jeopardy.” I pause. “I used to wear my favorite red dress and dance inside my room to my favorite songs, pretending they sang them to me.”
“My Curse” continues to blare in my room as I twirl around, shedding the everlasting feeling of dread and banging my head to each note.
The singer screams, freeing me from the ones caught in my throat.
The nightmares from that night have worsened. That body is burning. Everything around me fades. My heart races violently against my chest. The fear roots me to the ground, in the same spot on the grass where I stood, watching the masked man kill… him.
How did I even get there?
I saw a beautiful wrought-iron gate that my grandma went through. She told me to stay outside, but I ran away from my bodyguard. I have regretted doing that ever since. I can barely recall that night, but I remember the flames scorching his severed body.
Now, this is how I celebrate my eighteenth birthday. All by myself. I’ve gotten used to this part of life. I don’t feel anything, but I feel everything.
I turn off the music and walk over to the desk in the corner of my room. My latest sketch rests on it, depicting a woman looking into a mirror; her reflection is cuffed, her mouth covered with tape, and tears stream down her face. A slide of the same sketch shows her gradual transformation into a monster, breaking free from her chains and killing her timid shadow. I often bring my thoughts to life when the darkness suffocates me and infiltrates my veins until everything turns black.
Reaching for the cupcake with vanilla cream, strawberries, and chocolate syrup that I made, I insert a candle and light it with Grandma’s lighter.
“I wish to be whisked away from this prison,” I whisper, blowing out the candle.
Happy birthday to me.
I take a bite, grab another from the plate, and head downstairs to Grandma’s office. The flavors explode in my mouth—sweet and salty.
I gulp as I tiptoe toward her door. It’s closed, but her muffled shouts break the silence as I press my ear to the door and listen to her heated conversation.
“I didn’t turn my life upside down to watch Winona being taken by the evil bastards who took her in the first place.” Her tone is crisp and authoritative, yet impatient. “Winona was only twelve when the Halloween Killers started to kill for show. Do you think it was just serial killers having fun? It was a message to me. Someone ensured that a man was killed in front of my little girl, like an animal. I don’t care what you do or how you do it. Just find them. It’s been six years. They will come after her; it’s just a matter of time.”
My body goes rigid.
Why would they be after me?
The door handle twists, and I immediately step back and shove the cupcake into my mouth as if I just walked by, completely oblivious to what’s happening around me.
“Hey, happy birthday, sweetie,” Grandma beams, her smile bright as if nothing had happened in her office just a minute ago. She’s quite skilled at pretending everything’s normal.
She wraps her arms around me, and I rest my head on her shoulder.
“Is everything okay?” I ask.
“I hope you saved some extra space for my Cremeschnitte as well. I made it last night for you.” As always, she dodges the question. “I’m so sorry, but I have to take care of something. It’ll be late when I return, so you have the house to yourself.”
