2. In The Dark
2049 Words
Sally-Anne
Year: Unknown
My name is Sally-Anne. My life had been beautiful- growing up on the family farm surrounded by love and laughter. Born and raised in North Carolina the future promised to be a time of peace and prosperity, a far cry from the war torn world of my youngest years. 1950 was the beginning of the end but we start in the middle – in the often literal as well as metaphorical place I always seemed to find myself.
In the dark...
Close.
It must be close.
It had to be.
I hoped it was.
There was no telling how long I had been here for. But I deserved to be here, so it didn't matter. It didn't matter if it had been mere days or long months or better still years. Surely though it couldn't be longer than that? Even if it were.
Even if I had been here decades
Centuries even.
It made no difference. I deserved it. God could heap the punishment on me, draw this out for millennia, and it wouldn't be enough. Nothing would ever be enough after what I'd done.
At first it had been easy, not that ease was something to be proud of, the horror of my actions fresh and raw as they replayed over and over
and over
and over
and over again in my mind had kept me riveted in place. Each and every detail clear and painfully precise. Then the pain had come. Pangs and twinges at first. With my thoughts so heavily occupied I hardly noticed to start with but as they got worse so did the replay, morphing from pain and guilt and sadness to a dark twisted torture of another kind. Focus shifted from self flagellation to a perverse desire that clawed at me. Disgust and self loathing surged, I hadn’t thought it possible that I could hate myself more for what I had done but the darkness within had risen to the challenge. Slippery ice cold tendrils of this sickness, my affliction, were trying to crush my weeping heart, trying to pull my mind to a new perspective.
It shocked me.
A perspective not where I wasn’t a monster but where I revelled in being such an unholy beast. I prayed then for God to kill me, to send an angel of death; or better still hand me to the Devil and let no mercy come upon me.
No one came.
God did not see fit to answer my prayers, if he heard me at all.
Somehow I found the strength to turn outward leaving the crystal clear images of my heinous deed crushed at the back of my mind. Instead I focused on counting the bricks of my self claimed prison. Each wall, every line, the edges, the corners, how many columns, how many rows, the lines of mortar, how many bricks of each shade and even contemplating how many sides and edges were sunk in the wall. When I couldn’t think of anything else to count, any other way to count it, I began adding, subtracting, multiplying, dividing, forming inconsequential sums. Despite my limited math skill I persevered trying to fill all the space in my head with this distraction. But there was so much space it was impossible. The pain kept mounting, building, working to a pinnacle that never seemed to come and I kept turning the numbers over, shredding each one into a new sum as the pain shredded me.
Eventually the numbers became a stream, a continuous noise in my mind that could not be quieted. Would NOT. They buzzed and hummed, flickering over and over behind my eyes, faster and faster. Intangible as a singular.
Unbearable as a whole.
A symphony of pain abounded, its lashings well deserved, a testament to my wickedness; the blaring numbers, the images of my crime flashing uncontrollably.
Pain.
The pain.
Exquisite and vicious burning and rippling through my flesh. Screaming, straining against my bonds I found that my resolve had waned, I could no longer hold myself in place. The sensations were too much, overwhelming. It would not sleep, gave no quarter, no reprieve and I longed for a relief that I did not deserve. Driven to the edge, I could not withstand any longer. The hot burning thirst that consumed me with pain demanded to be quenched. I had nothing, nothing but my own flesh, a flesh I no longer understood.
I bit at my own skin, piercing the flesh wherever I could reach; my upper arms, my lips, my tongue, the inside of my cheeks. To no avail. It was not the balm I craved. Yet I did not stop – could not stop.
In time, although I had no idea how much had passed, I became weak, my body began to fail. Muscles seized limiting my movement, I found that I stopped breathing. It shocked me that I didn’t need the air, my body continuing on, mind whirring and ticking. Sight faded into black and I heard nothing bar my own inner turmoil. Embalmed in stillness I waited for the end.
The pain however stayed. Constant and steady, horrifically intense and... with me always. I wondered if I was in hell. If I were - it wasn’t enough. I deserved more yet longed for it to end. Perhaps I could be reunited with those I had lost, those I loved. After all I was sorry, filled head to toe with remorse.
It had to be close, death that was. An end to this misery. Hands and feet bound to the wall with iron cuffs I could only wait. I wondered if the walls would rot and the iron rust and flake and peel to nothing before I met my demise. No matter.
If this could not bring me death I would find another way.
Wait.
Was that a foot step? Could it be Ricky? Had he come back for me?
He loved me, he would save me.
No, No, NO. I didn’t want to be saved, I shouldn’t be, couldn’t be saved. Did not deserve to be saved. Perhaps, I thought, perhaps Death himself come to drag my soul (if I still had one) from this wretched body.
Ricky? I wanted to call out. The steps came closer. I wanted to yell for him to leave me but my chest wouldn’t rise and my lungs were empty. There was no air for me to make a sound with and even if there were I didn’t think I could connect with my mouth to make it. Gosh, Ricky. It was summer when we first met at my cousin’s birthday party. I was 16. He made me feel so alive.
_ _ _
“Sally-Anne! Sweet heart, so good to see you.” Aunt Liza fussed over me commenting on my height and how long my hair had grown, as if she didn’t see me all the time, before ushering me into the barn with a wink and a few words of encouragement. ‘Dance, have fun and you never know you might find yourself a future husband, some fine young men here tonight’
‘Liza’ My mother admonished ‘she’s just a girl, far too young for that sort of thing!’ They hugged and kissed and prattled on about whatever grown ups talk about while I slid into the crowd of friends and family. I did my very best to avoid the birthday boys, Teddy and Bobby, identical twins and well known rascals. They always teased me terribly and with this being their birthday party I knew they would be insufferable. Instead I looked for their big sister Nancy, at 14 she was only one year older than them and of course 2 years younger than me. We were best of friends and she was like a sister to me. Sadly I had no siblings of my own but with my Aunt and Uncle only living one town across I got to spend a lot of time with them. It was home from home.
I spied Nancy across the barn chatting away with a tall lad, Charlie. Sun bleached hair, tanned skin and muscles from working the next farm over with his dad, he was 15 almost 16 and although Nancy had always flashed her big blue eyes at him, blushing and giggling at everything he said he had never taken much notice of her before. Nancy was slim and elegant, jet black hair like her father fell in glossy curls about her face making those blue eyes pop just that little bit more. We actually looked more like sisters than cousins but my eyes were a piercing green rather than blue and I most certainly wasn’t a shameless flirt like my cousin! As she continued making eyes at Charlie and giggling more than speaking I slid up behind her and “Boo!” I yelled, grabbing her shoulders.
She jumped with a screech much to my delight.
“Hey Sally-Anne.” Charlie nodded
“Hey Charlie.” I gave him my biggest silliest grin. “What cha doin?”
“Just talking to Nancy here, thinking we might go strawberry picking tomorrow” Charlie smiled back but not at me, at Nancy.
“Ooo,” I looked at Nancy who mouthed ‘stop it’, I raised my eyebrows at her and turned back to Charlie, “so is it just you two... like a OWW.” Nancy poked me in the side, hard and gave me the eye. I smirked.
Charlie looked flustered for a moment, his tongue ran across his top lip and he looked at the both of us.
“Bye Sally-Anne.” He said, shaking his head as he stepped away, pausing for a moment his eyes lingered on my cousin. “See you tomorrow Nancy.” He said with a smile.
“Tomorrow.” Nancy agreed blushing deeply as Charlie walked away.
“What was all that about!” I squealed in her ear.
“Are you serious?” She pushed me off, feigning annoyance.
“Is Charlie your boyfriend?” I teased “Oh come on Nancy you can tell me, your favourite cousin almost sister.” I begged.
Nancy crossed her arms and pouted, “Only cousin.”
“Naanccy pleease.” I pulled on the sleeve of her dress.
“Maybe,” She said, giving in with a roll of her eyes, “but if I wanted to be teased about it I'd have told the twins!’ She cried, slapping my hand away. We fell into fits of giggles and Nancy told me everything about how her crush had suddenly noticed she wasn’t a kid. We gossiped and laughed and danced the warm summer night away. It was after one particularly rambunctious dance that I met him. Giddy and in need of some air I stepped out.
It was a little cooler outside and the summer breeze brushed soothingly over my flushed skin. I leant against the barn wall soaking in the sweet scent of the air and admiring the half moon gleaming in the clear star speckled sky. My heart was slowly calming from it’s joyous rhythm when a movement caught my eye. A shadow that was out of place just a few feet away. My heart felt like it had stopped dead.
“Hello?” I called into the darkness.
The darkness moved and I took a tentative step towards the barn door.
“Who’s there?” I whispered into the night.
“Helloo there.” The man purred, moonlight casting him in half shadows. His skin was pale and almost glowing, eyes bright and luminous focused entirely on me. I took another step back under the pressure of his stare.
“Who might you be?” He said with a fearsome grin.
“Sally-Anne Brice.” I couldn’t get the words out quick enough, a nervous energy flowed through me tinged with fear.
“Ah Miss Brice.” He crooned, relaxing his stance and leaning against the barn wall only arms length away “John’s daughter I presume.”
Wide eyed, I nodded slowly.
“Pleasure to meet you Miss Brice, I’m Ricky.” He flashed an award winning smile.
The rest of the world melted away.
- Writer
