My father was always a stern man. He always kept a stoic countenance, no matter the situation.
When my sister broke her arm falling out of our tree, her arm bent in a way that an arm definitely should not bend, he just sighed and took her to the hospital. No sign of distress or worry as she wailed and screamed, panicking at the 90 degree angle that her arm was now stuck in- in the wrong direction.
When I was caught stealing a candy bar from the small convenience store, the only one in our tiny town, he came down and spoke to Mr. Jack, no emotion on his face or in his voice. My face was red and sweaty from embarrassment as I sat on a stool in the corner while Mr. Jack explained the situation. My father’s face never changed on the drive back home. It didn’t change when he unlocked our front door and I followed him in. It didn’t change as he pressed my hand to the hot coils of our stove in punishment.
“Remember this the next time you are not able to resist temptation, Sarah.”
He had never done anything like this before and I shrieked long and hard before he released my hand. It must have only been 10 seconds but it felt like an eternity.
I stayed home from the small village school for a week and when I went back, the teachers looked knowingly at me but did nothing. We were a part of the United States, sure but no one was ever really worried about government oversight, as it were. Our area in Olympus, Wyoming did not “abide” by the laws of the United States. We were a “small haven in a heretic land,” my mother used to say, a small, sarcastic smile affixed to her face. She was so smart and nice and pretty, when she finally left our family, I didn’t blame her. She deserved to be somewhere glamorous. I just wish she had taken me and Amy with her.
It wasn’t until I was 18 and Amy was 20 that I was ever tempted by something again. After the stove incident, I was careful to live as straight a life as possible. When friends offered me marijuana, purchased from outside of Olympus, I remembered the stove and my hand would ache. I was a good kid, a kind kid. Amy never suffered from the stove as I did but she remained as well-behaved as I did. She still lived at home and though I knew she yearned to go to college elsewhere, she didn’t. She stayed and cooked and cleaned, all for the reward of my father’s stern face.
It was a normal night, calm and balmy and I was out with one of my friends, Kally. She was as wild as we could possibly be in Olympus and she reminded me of a fairy or an imp- mischievous and quick as a whip. We were walking around our “downtown” area when we saw it. Down an alley, a place we never even dared walk down before, was a small bridge. It led into the wooded back area, a place where the teens would stretch their little wings of rebellion and forego curfew to feel any semblance of freedom.
Kally turned to me, her lips stretched back over her teeth in a feral grin and I knew she was about to do something stupid, something that would make my hand burn with the memory of the stove but… this time? This time I wanted to do it. Something about that bridge was calling me and telling me I needed to go on it. It was a simple bridge, no signs of wear or tear and I wanted to run across it. I wanted to stretch my arms out and laugh and I could see it in my head! I could see it so clearly. So when Kally held her hand out, for the first time in a long line of proffered hands, I took it and we walked down the alley.
With every step, my hand felt alight with fire. I felt the coil on my hand and I saw my father’s face but I kept going. When I placed that first step on the bridge, I laughed. A quick short noise that punctuated the air and Kally looked at me triumphantly. Even if she lived doing as she wanted, when she wanted for the most part, her eyes mirrored mine and she was feeling the adrenaline too. We shrieked and hugged, before taking off down the wooden slats. That’s when I began to notice it.
The bridge got…worn? It started to have splinters and chips that gnarled the thick wood and when I looked back behind me, it wasn’t the simple, unassuming bridge that we saw before. It looked black and scorched. I turned to Kally to try and stop her and turn around before this bridge broke in half with our meager weight on it but she had stopped a few steps before the ground continued past the bridge. She stared at the woods, a dumb look transfixed on her face and I began yanking on her hand but she refused to move. She did not come back with me and the pain in my hand was almost unbearable. I begged her to get off the bridge with me and she wouldn’t. I had to leave her there and I regret it everyday. I ran home and locked myself in my room and when her mother called my father, I buried my hand under my blanket as he poked his head in and stared at me for a full minute, eyes searching my face.
“You remember, don’t you?”
I nodded, no other words needed. I knew what he was talking about. He finally left and I sobbed, knowing that Kally probably wouldn’t be coming home.
I had to go back. I had to find her. I didn’t know if she was just standing there still or if she was grabbed by someone. I felt in my heart that she wasn’t in danger from anyone. The real problem had to be the bridge. It had to be. So when my father finally went to bed and I heard Amy firmly shut herself in her room, I left. I snuck out and ignored the burning in my hand. The scar looked more gnarled than usual and I felt like the skin was going to split open. It almost was enough to make me stop and turn back to my bed but I had to go find Kally. No one else knew where she was and from what I knew of our town, no one would be looking for her. A crazy kid, who had always yearned to have more? She probably skipped town and her mother, weary from years of trying to control her, probably saw this as an inevitability.
I made it back to the alley and had to clutch my hand to my chest but this time, I didn’t walk down holding the hand of my best friend. I sprinted down and ignored the pain to try and get there faster. I saw the bridge but again, it wasn’t unassuming, it was the nightmare I had seen before.
And there she was.
Staring into the woods where I left her. I nearly collapsed with relief until I got to her side and saw her eyes.
Blood poured from them, looking like red tears. Her lips looked chewed to bits as her teeth worried the surface. I reached a hand out and her skin was on fire, it hurt to the touch as if she was standing in front of the biggest, boldest fire. She turned to look at me and her teeth released her lip as she smiled. I cringed back but still tried to grab onto her. She placed her hand over mine and dragged it up to her heart. I could feel the thudding through her skin but it felt off. A heart shouldn’t beat that slowly. It shouldn’t beat that hard.
“You remember it, don’t you? You remember the coils?”
I gasped and tried to pry my hand free. While my bandaged hand and subsequent scarring was not really capable of being kept a secret in such an obvious pattern, I had never talked to anyone about it and I had certainly never told her anything about the coils.
I kept trying to rip my hand free but her grip was steel. Fear, horror and a touch of revulsion grew stronger in my body and I felt tears begin to rise in my eyes. When I reached my other hand up, I pulled it back when the tears felt wrong. Blood covered my hand and I started to feel my teeth dig into my lips.
“You couldn’t ignore the fire this time and now, we’ll both burn.”
Her smile got bigger and bigger and I wanted to scream but I could feel my own lips begin to stretch into a smile as well. My teeth had blissfully let them go but my cheeks were already beginning to hurt and I could feel the corners of my mouth cracking.
I tore my eyes away from hers and finally turned and looked into the woods. Standing in the center of the walking path, cleared from years of hikers and people looking for any form of entertainment, stood a woman. Her red hair cascaded down and her eyes sparkled. She was in long robes and looked so warm and welcoming, I knew she would make whatever dreams I had come true. I would never feel pain in my hand again if I went to her, I knew this as a fact. Her own dazzling smile made me want to run forward and clasp onto her and never let go. I started to turn to do just this when I felt Kally’s hand tighten on mine and I looked back at her. The smile was gone, replaced by a wide, silent scream. She relaxed just enough for me to hear a guttural, “h-help…me…” before I screamed and snapped out of the allure of this woman before us. Kally raised her other hand and ripped her hand off of mine and again, her throaty voice ordered, “RUN.”
I bolted and once again abandoned my friend to whatever this was. I looked back one last time to see Kally walking forward, arms outstretched and legs looking as if they were being piloted by someone else.
I made it home and ran to my father’s room, babbling about what I saw, confessing all of my sins and only then did his stoicism break. He screamed and clutched his head before grabbing my arm and dragging me to my sister’s room. She was laid on the bed, reading and he threw the main light on before shoving me towards her.
“Stay here,” he ordered and then he left. I knew where he was going and I knew what he wouldn’t find. Kally was gone and it was all my fault, I should have listened to my hand and told her no, that we could go to one of our houses and hang out there yet again but I didn’t. She was gone and now my father was too.
He never returned and I need to go find him. I know he’s gone but I have to see the woman again. I wonder often what she offered to Kally and why Kally was able to resist for so long but I was almost about to run head-first to her, when I was the one who had eschewed all temptation for a huge portion of my life.
I feel weak for needing to return to her but the monotony of life here is killing me and I am beginning to see what my mother saw in the freedom of running away from her family. I realize now that she didn’t run away out of town, she also was promised a good life with the woman and I know she got it. Amy didn’t even worry about our father leaving, she shrugged it off as him finally trying to find my mother or also getting tired of life here. She wouldn’t miss me. Maybe one day, Amy will even follow me and we can all be together again.