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Thirteen

For a long time, Isimply stayed on the bed, naked and on my knees, my arms around myself. The cold I felt came from the inside, and there was no way to ward it off. I tried to wait for him. I tried to tell myself that everything would be fine, tried to tell myself this was just another misunderstanding that could eventually sort itself out.

All I had to do was wait.

I just had to wait.

Just wait, I told myself. It was something I now knew I was good at. Because now I also knew that all this time – I had been waiting.

For almost a decade, all I had done was wait for Marcus to come back.

So I just needed to do the same thing, I thought feverishly, and everything would be okay.

Marcus himself had promised me.

So wait.

Just wait.

I probably could have waited for an eternity, and I wouldn’t have minded.

If not for those cries.

When the strange, terrifying buzzing in my mind stopped—-

That was when I heard it.

Tiny soft cries—-

And they terrified me.

How those little cries terrified me because I knew – even without knowing where they came from – oh, I knew. Deep inside me, I knew those tiny soft cries had the power to destroy me.

Forcing my limbs to move, I slipped my arms into a silk robe and tied its sash around me before making my way out of the room.

The hallways were dark, and I had to fumble my way down the stairs.

The tiny soft cries continued.

I followed the sound until I realized they were coming from the basement. The door had been left ajar, and it silently swung open at one nudge of my fingers.


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