The Things We Bury

Prologue

Three years earlier
Somewhere between Louisiana and Texas

She was freezing.

When she realized this, her eyes were so heavy, she couldn't open them.

When she took a breath, something hit the back of her throat, causing her to choke. Not just choke, every time she tried to breath in, something filled her mouth and throat. Her arms struggled, too heavy to move. No...something is on top of me, she thought to herself suddenly panicking.

Trying not to breath in, she pushed her arms up and felt a slight breeze on her finger tips. She clawed, trying to pull herself up. Her lungs were burning, on fire, desperate for fresh air. Finally, she broke through the surface, pulling herself out of the dirt. It coated the inside of her mouth as she tried to balance the act of spitting and breathing in oxygen. More sensation came back to her, assaulting her senses. Like the air; it was not just cold but freezing. Nipping at bare skin, which is when she realized she was completely naked.

She continued to pull herself out of the dirt, until her whole body was free, curled up on the ground next to the grave. Her body shook from both adrenaline and the chill. Her body ached too and when she looked down to examine herself, she closed her eyes, tears immediately filling them.

Blood.

All over the inside of her legs and on her abdomen. She found her pale skin, covered in bruises and angry red cuts. She curled even tighter in on herself, bringing her stiff legs to her chest, burying her head into her knees. Fragments started coming back, suddenly filling her mind, once again taking the breath from her lungs.

Large hands.

Grabbing, grouping...touching places that ached in fear. A sneering face, blurred but the straight, white teeth digging into her bare flesh stuck out. A knife, caressing her cheeks, neck and breasts.

Fuck.

While fear caused her to shake, something at the back of her memory demanded her to focus. However she could not conjury up the memory that was invoking such strong feelings of anger. It was white hot rage that suddenly held her in it's grip; that clawed it's way out of her raw throat as she screamed. 

There was no explanation, no rushing memory that told her everything she needed to know. 

She sat there until the adrenaline wore off and she was starting to freeze. 

She stood and started walking, trying to ignore the pain that begged her to stop moving. Eventually, she found herself on the side of a road, the night still clinging to the sky. Headlights light up the surrounding area and she found herself dropping to the ground, muffling her own yelp of pain. The car came to a stop a few feet ahead, the door opening as a voice called out "Dear? Are you okay?" It was the voice of an older woman, not a man. 

"Help," was all she could manage before tears started flooding her eyes. 

A thick warm blanket suddenly covered her body, trapping what little warmth she had, against her skin. "Honey, come with me. My name is Sister Lourdes, I can help you okay? I won't ask any questions except this: what is your name?" 

"Ember." The name came to her without hesitation. Even though it didn't seem right, it was all she could think of. "Call me Ember."