Page 103 of Fated to Monsters

I loved my mother, adored her more than anyone—how could that memory have escaped me? Seeing her now and feeling the emotions flood through me, I recognize that clear as day.

I grip the salty chunk and climb under the floorboards like we had done countless times before. My little heart patters away in my chest but I go along with my mother’s orders. I would have done anything to make her happy.

Since Father left, there wasn't anything I wouldn't have done for her. I never made a fuss. Never told her when she burnt or undercooked a meal. Never mentioned when she braided my hair too tight or forgot to read me a bedtime story. I picked up after myself—and her when I could—and never asked for anything she wasn’t already offering me. I could sense the sorrow, and I knew the only thing I could do for her was stay out of her hair—be a good girl.

I'm not sure when I realized Mother was sad, but perhaps I always knew.

She didn't speak of Father often, and those few times she did, it was a blessing.

So, when she asked me to hide, I did so without question. Anything for Mother.

I don't bother eating the cheese, not when Mother will soon come and tell me it’s safe to come out. I wish to savor it with her because she is my favorite person.

But little did I know, that day would be different than all the rest.

And every day after would forever be changed.

Because instead of the commotion passing our shack like it had those other times, the door flings open, and men step inside.

I peer through the cracks in the floor, my breath catching as they come farther in, closer to Mother. I want to scream, to shout, to draw their attention away from her, but I can't, not when she told me time and time again that I must remain quiet until she comes for me.

“No matter what, Birdie, you must not come out,” she had said.

I hug the piece of cheese to my chest and do everything I can to steady my thudding heart. My eyes dart from person to person through the tiny cracks in the floor, and I wonder how long it’ll be until they leave. I don’t care if they take all the cheese, I just really want to be with Mother.

I’m frightened but I must obey her orders.

“Where’s the girl?” one of the men asks her.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Mother tells him. "I live here alone."

Why would Mother lie about me being here? Is she ashamed of me?

Familiar clicking sounds across the floor but I can’t quite place it.

The man presses a dagger against Mother's throat, a faint speckling of red kisses the tip of the blade. I clamp my hand over my mouth to suppress any noise that may arise.

“I’m going to ask you one more time…where is the girl?” He pushes the blade deeper, and I want nothing more than to jump through the floor and kick him in the shins. But I can't move. Not yet. Not when Mother told me to stay put.

“Kill her,” a woman says.

Her voice is just as familiar as that clicking across the floor.

She comes into my line of sight, and the cheese falls from my hand, thudding onto the dirt beneath me.

The woman slowly turns in my direction but doesn't look directly at me. Instead, she continues glancing around until she's facing Mother again.

“What are you waiting for? I said kill her.”

The man grabs the back of Mother's neck before she can move and slices the blade across her throat. Blood pools out and Mother drops to her knees. Her body falls forward and collapses on top of the floorboard above me, her once bright blue eyes dimming and filling with tears as she peers through at me.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, those two words meant for just me.

The scarlet pooling around her trickles down and speckles my small face, coating the piece of cheese I had dropped into the dirt.

“Burn the house down and find the girl.” The woman crosses her arms over her chest, so unbothered about everything she’s just ordered. “Then wipe her memory. Make her think demons did this. Then, she’ll have no choice but to join our side.”

“Yes, ma’am,” another one of the men says.

---