Page 1 of Madness Behind the Mask
One
HER
30 April 1917
A belt cuts through the air, the sharp snap as it rises making me tenseinstinctively. I know doing so will make it worse. I need to relax my muscles. I need to –
A scream rips around my skull as harsh leatherpeltsacross my back,knocking out my air, making myleftlung feel as if it’s collapsing beneath a heavy weight.I slam my teeth shutas I collapse to my knees on the blue-and-white tiles of the kitchen floor, biting through my tongue in an attempt to stay quiet.
Don’t cry, Sau.
Don’t cry.
Men don’t cry.
Tears burn my eyes asthe copper tang ofblood fills my mouth. I might not be a man, but Iama Shadow, and we are the leaders of this Family. It is our shadow magic that makes us infamous, that makes others tremble in their beds.
Don’t cry, Sau…
Don’t cry.
And yet, I hear my little brother cryingbeside me.
Sobbing.
Beggingdad to stopas he raises the belt for him at the same time Uncle David does for me.
I tense despite not wanting to, despite telling myself to relax. It’ll be so much better if I just relax.Bloodtricklesdown my mouth as I remove my tongue from between my teeth.
My heart beats rapidly in anticipation of the next sting.
I want to get up and run away.
I want to turn and fight.
But the belt whips down on mynakedback,landing on one of the bruises it has already given me,and all I do isgroan. A small whimper begs to escape, but I swallow it down,refusing to cry, refusing to break.
The next slap cuts across my skin, opening me up to a flurry of pain that stings in the humid air.The force of the next blow makes me fall forward, and I throw my hands out to catch myselfbefore my face hits thetiles.
My muscles scream in agony as soon as my palms make contact.My armsbuckling beneath the pain, I hit my head hard, my lip busting, the hole in my tongue clipping on my teeth, making my eyes water.
“Stop!” Luther screamsas he curls up in a ball beside me. “Please,Dad!Don’t!” He ends on a high-pitched wail as Father hits him again and again, thecrackresonating in my skull, making me flinchas ifgunshots aregoing offbesideme.
I want to tell him not to cry as it only makes them hit us harder, butIcan’topen my mouthwithout screaming. Ican’ttell him that soon we will pass out from the pain and blood loss and that when we wake, the pain will be gone, healed byMama.
This has been my night for the last eleven months, andnot once have I cried. I cannot do so now.
All I can do is watch him with tears in my eyes, my jaw clenched tight in pain, my hands fisted, my tongue bleeding through my lips as I lie sprawled out on the kitchen floor.
The belt hits harder and harder, slicing open naked flesh and leaving bruises and blisters everywhere else. My throat works hard as Luther continues to beg and scream beside me.
“Please don’t!
“No more!
“Stop!
“Please!
