17
Portia
“No!” I screeched. I fought them. I fought them and I screamed.
Four men held me down at the end as they shoved me into the pine box in the ground at the edge of the property.
I screamed for mercy from the men holding me.
I screamed for help from the women who’d driven me there like a lamb to the slaughter in the golf cart.
I screamed for Sully.
I screamed for my long dead mama and the daddy who’d driven away from us when we needed him the most.
I screamed for God.
And not a goddamned one of them answered me as they nailed the lid of that coffin shut on top of me.
I screamed for help until my voice was raw. I hated small spaces. I hated the dark, I always had. Oh Mama, I hated the dark. I hated the dark.
“Stop panicking, stop it!” I scream-whispered at myself with the tiny raspy voice I had left. “Fucking think!”
The box was pine. I was strong. I’d spent the last weeks working out. I was a strong bitch.
And I was a fighter.
God, my whole life was a fight. A knock-down, brutal fucking brawl.
Christina Aguilera’s Fighter started playing through my head.
I was strong, and hard, and smart.
I started pounding at the box. It was just pine. Maybe I could bust my way out of the damn thing. I’d seen it done in movies.
I’d just save my fucking self. Like always. Save myself, and then save my sisters. I was one strong bitch, and if God wouldn’t save me, I’d save my fucking self.
I was strong, I was tough, life was cruel, life was a goddamned bitch, to me, to my family, to my beautiful sister, and fuck it, fuck it ALL, I’d never give up, I’d never fucking give up—
I pounded on the wood above me.
I kicked.
I kicked more.
I pounded with my palms.
I tried to turn to get my elbows but I couldn’t—
Dammit, I couldn’t turn, the space was too small, there wasn’t enough room, I couldn’t— If I could just get some goddamned room, I was sure I could get the fuck out of here, but there wasn’t enough space, I couldn’t move my elbow, I couldn’t get it, I couldn’t get it—
Okay, okay, so I’d use my palms. Fine. Okay, okay—
I slammed my palms, but the wood didn’t budge. It wasn’t budging, I wasn’t really doing anything.
But maybe with enough repeated hits, I’d weaken it.
I tried to kick again but it was the same problem, there just wasn’t enough fucking space to get the right momentum to do any damage.
I screamed in fury, a useless noise with my ruined vocal chords.
And pounded more against the wood, uselessly.
And that’s when the dark space suddenly flooded with light.
Light.
And I saw the scratch marks and at least one woman’s fingernail left embedded in the wood, inches above my face.
I wasn’t the first woman they’d buried alive.
Oh Jesus, oh Jesus, they were fucking crazy.
There weren’t any lines they wouldn’t cross.
They hated us.
They wanted to torture us.
They liked it.
How many women had they buried?
Tears squeezed out of my eyes as I lost my shit and screamed and pounded and scratched in the same place how many other women had scratched?
And that was when the dirt started spilling between the boards.
I had no voice left beyond a useless, terrified squeak as they began to actually bury me alive, dirt filling my mouth as I screamed and spit and lost my ever-loving shit.
18
Sully
Billiards, bourbon, and blowjobs.
That’s what I remembered about the room we were all walking to after they took Portia away. The billiards room was for members only, but as boys, we often snuck in the secret passageways hidden in the walls of the Oleander and spied on the men.
Oh, how I couldn’t wait to be given the keys to that kingdom back then.
We used to fantasize what it would be like to someday be a member of The Order of the Silver Ghost. It was a given that we would have our opportunity when we came of age, but the day couldn’t come soon enough as we watched these powerful men sit with their cigars, their wealth, and their absolute power.
I had desperately wanted to be one of them…
But not anymore.
The Order of the Silver Ghost was tainted. Poison. Absolute filth.
And as I walked buck naked down the hallway, I was proud of the fact that I would never allow myself to become one of them.
Never.
Yes, maybe I had to do the evil dance of the monkey for my sister’s sake, but my soul would never be compromised by these men. Never.
“Sully!” Mrs. H called from the end of the hallway carrying a bundle of clothes and my shoes that were given for me to wear to the event. “Put that pecker of yours away and get dressed immediately.”