Page 70 of The Hallows Boys

“I’m just curious about all of it. There’s only ever been whispers about what happens, and I’ve heard that this generation of Hallows Boys is worse than the last, almost like they’re sick and demonic or something,” Juliet says. “I promise not to judge you. I mean, obviously, I don’t like the three dickheads, but curiosity is eating me alive.”

“I don’t know anything about the last generation, or what has been said about any of it, so I can’t really clear that up for you. But, I don’t know, it was like time and space blurred together, holding me hostage while I was with them. Everything disappeared, and the only thing in the world that mattered was them. I didn’t know which way was up or down, if I was drowning or dreaming.”

She doesn’t say anything, and I look over her head, through the window where the sky is bleeding into blackness. I let my mind drift back to Halloween, how I went out because I was upset, how my heart had felt shattered for the millionth time this year. I was hollow, my heart and lungs scooped out and dropped on the ground, leaving me breathless and empty.

They fixed it – even if they did torture me for a while. When I got home the next morning, they had filled me up and sewn me back together.

“I went for a walk that night, and I thought I was being kidnapped by, like, sex traffickers or something.” I laugh at the insanity of my words. “They were creeping around me in the cemetery, using voice changers, so I didn’t know it was them. I fought them off and next thing I knew, I was waking up in a fucking coffin.”

“What the fuck?!” Juliet rasps.

Even as I share the dark details with her, I don’t feel ashamed or scared. I feel like my body is lighting up in millions of little fireworks all over again, almost as if I can still smell and taste them.

“Yeah, I ended up flipping it over and it shattered on the floor so I could get out, and when I crawled out, I was in this dirty room that was graffitied to shit. I tried to escape, but I must have been on the top floor so I couldn’t just climb out of the window or anything. I had to go through this abandoned psych ward, and then the three of them came out and grabbed me. They all had masks on, and it was scary, but I don’t know… I liked it.”

I risk looking at Juliet, to see how she’s responding to what I’m saying, and thankfully she doesn’t look like she’s grossed out by me, so I keep going.

“They ended up taking me out to the cemetery, into some old crypt where they played with me.”

“Played with you?” she questions, and my face heats from embarrassment.

I nod, averting my gaze from hers again. “Yeah, they touched me and made me beg for them.”

A wave of embarrassment washes over me again, but deep down I’m craving them, like a drug that my veins miss. I’m still desperate for them, wishing I could go back in time and do it all again.

Juliet stares at me for a minute, her mind probably conjuring up all sorts of fucked up images, then she laughs. “You do realize how fucked up that all sounds, right?”

I laugh as well, nodding. “Yeah. But oh well, you only live once, right?”

My mind travels back to the photo of my parents, and it seems that depravity must run in my bloodline. My lip curls as I start to think of my mother being chosen for the games, so I swing my legs over the side of my bed and stand up.

“Hungry?” I ask Juliet, eyeing her.

“Yeah, I’m just gonna change into some sweats,” she answers, standing up and grabbing her bag.

I leave her in my room, closing the door to give her privacy to change, and head downstairs to the kitchen. My grandmother is in the living room watching TV, so I dig in the pantry and start pulling out different snacks. I find a tray under one of the counters, and I pile cookies, chips, pretzels, and a couple of bottles of water on it.

Carrying the tray, I poke my head into the living room on my way past. “Goodnight, gran.”

“Night, honey,” she calls, giving me a smile.

I make my way upstairs, then balance the tray in one hand to push my bedroom door open. When I do, I find Juliet sitting on the floor beside my bed, the photo of my mother and the Hallows Boys in her hands. I rush forward, putting the tray on my bed and snatch the photo from her hands.

“What are you doing?!” I ask, pressing the photo to my chest.

“I saw them poking out from under your mattress. I swear I wasn’t snooping,” she says, standing up.

My ears ring, feeling like my very personal secrets I wasn’t ready to share were just invaded.

“Is that your mom? You look just like her,” she adds.

I close my eyes, breathing through my nose to try and calm my racing heart. Anger simmers through me, and I so badly want to yell at her, but part of me tries to give her the benefit of the doubt. Even though I know the photosweren’tpoking out, since I just put them back in place.

I blow out a breath. “I don’t know if it’s normal around here to go through people’s things, but where I’m from, you aren’t supposed to.”

“I know!” Juliet says. “I’m so sorry, Sage. I guess I was just curious. I thought maybe they would be pictures from Halloween.”

“It’s fine. Forget it,” I dismiss her, walking to my vanity and putting the photo into the top drawer.

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