Unnatural Instinct: Free

Epilogue

The moon is bright tonight, not like the last time I saw you, a half-moon with a storm brewing beneath. Though almost a decade has passed, I still remember it vividly. I still remember you vividly. How full of life you had been when caught up in that monster's arms. Even along the barrel of my gun, I saw it. Despite your terror that I might shoot, you were alive like you never were with me, even before your 'cleansing'.

What kind of man would I have been if I shot the creature and took you as my own? You might not believe it, even now, but I loved you. I still love you. I loved you enough that I had to let you go.

The moon—it always makes me remember. It rouses a mix of feelings, and I can't work out whether they're painful or not. They leave such a twist in my chest.

'Dad, are you all right?' comes a small, uncertain voice.

Talk about a twist in my chest. I turn to see Ruth, my eldest daughter. Standing in the doorway, she's biting her lip as she rocks on her heels.

'I'm okay,' I grin. Every time I look at her, my heart lifts. I walk away from the window and pull her up into my arms, kissing her cheek. 'Did you have a good day at school?'

'Yes,' she mumbles as I brush her dark fringe out of her face. 'Are you sure you're all right? You look sad.'

'I swear it.'

I nuzzle her cheek until she pushes me away with a giggle. 'Can you help me with my homework?'

'Of course!' I lower her to the floor. 'Go get it and we'll do it at the dining table. And you too,' I tell Mary, my youngest daughter, who's lounging on the couch watching T.V.

She groans dramatically. 'Do I have to?'

'Don't whine. Go get it.'

Giving an even more dramatic sigh, she gets up and stomps down the hall in her socks after her sister. I smile as I watch her, then sit down at the dining table. I can't help but turn back to the window.

Nobody in the village knows the truth of what happened to you. I didn't dare tell them. Instead, I told them that you were peacefully sleeping in bed, only to disappear come morning. According to my tale, you simply vanished.

Most assumed you left; others assumed the monster took you. Nobody thought I lied. They scoured the forest for days but couldn't find you. Of course. You would have been long gone by then. Safe. Hopefully safe. I hope he's taking care of you.

I hope you're happy.

It wasn't long after that, a little over a year, when I married Lucille. You remember her? Probably not. She was the daughter of the village baker and always smelled like she'd just stepped out of the oven. I liked her. I didn't love her. Not like you.

You will be happy to know that I treated her well, better than any other husband in the village did his wife. Though it didn't seem to make a difference. Just like you did in those last days, she'd smile politely and do what I asked. We'd go to bed together and say we loved each other. But something was lacking. She was like a candle with no flame.

We had two daughters, born almost two years apart. Ruth is nine now and Mary almost seven. It's hard to believe that it's been almost four years since I left Lucille, since I left the village and my past far behind.

I turn away from the window as Ruth skips into the room, Mary dragging her feet behind her. I watch them with my chin on my fist as they set up their books and pencils.

I don't regret my decision, not one little bit. I had to get them out of there.

Even in those last nights before you left me I was arrogant enough to think I understood you, that I was a changed man. You can't have it both ways, the old leader had told me. And he was right. But it was only when I held Ruth in my arms that first time, a squirming pink, lively bundle, innocent and untouched and not yet harmed by the outside world, when I truly understood: the 'perfect' woman comes with a price.

And I wasn't going to let it happen to my daughters, not like it did to Lucille—or to you.

For years I tried to change the leaders' minds. For years I tried to convince the rest of the villagers, and even my wife, that things were not right. But nobody listened. In fact, it got worse. Soon they were taking young girls into the shelter to be 'cleansed' and for reasons as minor as poor manners.

Then they tried to take my Ruthie—and that was it.

I hired myself a horse and carriage and got us out of there. My goal—the great cities in the east. The villagers watched me leave without stopping me.

I didn't look back.

And I haven't looked back since.

I wonder if you'd be proud of me, of the man I've now become. I like to think I'm a good father, a good man. But sometimes I wonder. I used to think I was a good man, even when at my worst. What am I now?

I have no wife at the moment, but I have my two daughters. And, for now, that is enough for me. They fill that empty spot you left in my heart. They fill it to overflowing.

It's been a hard few years since I left. It's hard shedding the teachings of a people so lost in a backwards time, but I've managed. I have a job now. We have a nice apartment. We're so high up that the people down below are like ants. And I can see a little of why you liked him so much. To fly is to be free. And how we are flying!

All of us. My daughters. You and me.

'Dad!'

I snap my head back to Ruth with a start.

'You're dreaming again!' she says.

Mary giggles.

I blink and shake my head. 'Sorry! What is it you need help with?'

'This sum. I don't get it.' Folding her arms, she pouts.

'Nothing good ever comes easy,' I say, turning the book to face me.

She frowns. 'What?'

I just smile.