Chapter Text
The water from the soft ground, the mud, was squishing up between my toes as it rained. It was an odd sensation, since I was sitting by the hearth as my mother sang me to sleep. I remember looking up into her eyes. I told her it was going to rain the next day and that we would need boots. She laughed as parents do when children say silly things and carried me to bed.
The sun was shining strong and bright the next day and it was so warm, that my mother refused to listen to my warning as I reminded her. We made it to the church and sat through the sermon as the dark clouds rolled in and the thunder started rumbling.
Not entirely unlike now. It was now closer to midnight than noon but the rain was coming down in buckets. Lightning flashed bright enough to light the whole town. The horses were skittish traveling the narrow, pitted road to our destination. I felt a loud boom of thunder and jumped, eyes wide, the sound seeming to reverberate in my chest.
The man next to me laughed. “You’re going to have to get used to loud noises where you’re going, missy,” he drawled. His tobacco stained breath made me recoil. “Taint going be like that fancy house you’re pa and ma was keeping.”
Tears mingled with the dirt on my cheeks. This wasn’t how life was supposed to go. It had been a good life. At least, my family and I were making the best of it until a year ago, anyway.
The man leered at me. “It’s a shame. It’s always the pretty ones what turns out off their rocker.” His gaze lingered, making my stomach clench. Another crash of thunder made me jump again, and again he laughed.
I pushed my mind elsewhere. My mother. God rest her soul, if my beautiful mother was still alive, I would not be here now. She would have saved me from this horrid fate. Maybe this was a punishment, then. God had given me this gift and shown me what was happening and I hadn’t acted as I should with the knowledge. I hadn’t saved my mother, and now I was destined to a fate worse than death with no chance of a savior for myself.
What could I have changed to save her? What could I have done that would have let her live? For years I had been pushing my gift down and away, hiding it. After all, it had rarely brought me anything but pain.
Sally Harker is standing before me, grinning as she shows me the ring Gordon Taylor gave her. She is chattering on excitedly. Her eyes are shining with hope and excitement, the birds are chirping in the trees, and her mood is nearly contagious. Nearly. Except there is a dark pit in my stomach. As much as I stamp it down, pushing and crushing and locking away, the dark pit comes and grows and I know what it means. The thoughts are in my mind, on my tounge, begging to be allowed to burst forth and tell Sally Harker all I know.
Except I don’t know. I have no proof, but I can see it clearly. Taylor will be in Greystone Asylum before they share two winters. The words spill out, unwilling to be contained any longer. Every time I think I’ve mastered myself, mastered my gift, it finds a new way to torture me. Telling Sally Harker, one of the few people kind enough to befriend me, what I know. Her face turns to cold stone and I know in that instant I’ve lost her.
Just like I lost my cousin who refused to listen to my warnings to not go west in search of gold. Just like my mother.
I choked back a sob. Maybe this was never the gift from God my mother always claimed it was. Maybe it was a curse from the devil, sent to assure not only my destruction, but everyone around me. Would my mother have been so desperate to see her friends that she didn’t notice the man coming for her had she not heeded my persistent warnings? But if I hadn’t warned her, I would have lost her so much sooner. It all goes around in a circle in my head. I’m only grounded when I remember that none of what is happening is my fault.
The past is easier to look back on. That is seen as clearly as a cloudless noon day. I didn’t blame myself for my mother’s death. That blame rests squarely on my father’s shoulders. He’s the one who sent the man to kill my mother so he could marry another woman. A much younger woman. He’s the one who tried to have that same man kill me. The only reason I’m alive is that I saw him coming with a knife and ran to those I thought would keep me safe.
I was wrong about that. No one cares about my safety. They only care that I’m out of the way. No longer a menace to the family name. No longer spouting off my witchery.
My poor sister, left all alone with those vile creatures. My sister, left with the cold woman who replaced out mother while our father continues to travel to sell his pearls. My father who hired a man to kill my mother to marry another woman. A woman who I know will share the same fate as my mother.
Another boom shook me to my core, but the man didn’t laugh this time. The buggy had stopped. “Out you get, then. Here we are.
My hands were bound, so I stumbled out into the rain. My clothes were soaked through before I could take two steps. Icy cold water ran down my back as I squinted up at the dark and imposing stone building. GREYSTONE ASYLUM was written above the entrance. Perhaps I should have taken the storm as an omen, but I didn’t. After all, I thought, how could it get any worse than this?