Temptation is the devil looking through the keyhole. Yielding is opening the door and inviting him in.
-Billy Sunday
Introduction
So I made a deal with the Devil, well the Devil’s son and now I wish I had listened. If I had listened I probably wouldn’t be lying here, in a thick pool of my own blood, gasping for breath. If I had listened my heart wouldn’t be beating a hundred miles per hour, thundering and throbbing from the unstoppable pain.
“Aidan…” I managed to croak but my voice was barely noticeable over the roar and rumble of the wreckage that lay about me. Searing flames lapped at my heels but I couldn’t move. Clouds of smoke threatened to envelope me but I couldn’t move. Why? Why didn’t I listen? If I did then my eyes wouldn’t be getting heavier and I wouldn’t be slipping….
Away.
***
One
I awoke to the sound of the usual Saturday night commotion, the TV blasting, loud bustling around the bathroom and clanging in the kitchen. I say I awoke but really I had been lying in bed for hours. My nightmares had already woken me up hours ago and the cool ghostly chill all over my body trailed where the sweat had previously been. I didn’t cry, didn’t scream I just shook terribly, my mind a mess. I think that’s the worst bit. Feeling like you’re dying inside but not being able to express it at all. I turned my head to glance at the clock. 7:30 pm. I never slept during the night, only the day. It wasn’t so much that I was afraid of the dark, just more wary. Bad things happened at night. I preferred to be awake, ready to face whatever monsters lurked behind shadows, than to remain ignorant and naïve. I threw the covers over and looked over to the far corner of the room. Shana’s bed. She’d been gone a while now, two years next month but there isn’t much I could do about that. I just had to get over it.
I got up and looked in the mirror. I wasn’t anything special just an average looking girl. A dark haired, freckled, plain looking girl stares back at me through empty, dull brown eyes. The only thing that made me stand out was the prominent scar that ran from the corner of my right eye to my mouth. I ran my fingers lightly over the thickened skin, wishing with every touch I made it fade a little more but without success. With no money to even support myself, rendering me dependent on Archie and the home, I most definitely didn’t have any money to get my scar fixed. It added ‘character’ as Archie would say. I didn’t need character; I just wanted to be normal.
As if on cue, my stomach rumbled just as the dinner bell rang in the kitchen. With a sigh I mentally counted to thirty whilst the expected rushing and thundering of feet was heard from the hallway outside my door. I wasn’t going to rush. I knew that if I did I’d only be disappointed as all the food would have already been taken; leaving nothing but the scraps Rufus usually took for himself. Food didn’t last long in a foster home, especially not in Forestwood. When you share a house with seven other people and a Yorkshire terrier who believes he’s a pitbull there is neither food nor space. It didn’t bother me too much anymore, I was used to it. If eleven years in foster care taught you anything it was that you needed to take what hell throws at you and turn it into your advantage, and that’s where my supply of emergency food came in.
I sat cross-legged, a packet of cookies in my lap, chewing whilst absent mindedly staring outside my small bedroom window. I watched the birds that flew around the apple tree that sat a few yards away from the house with envy. If there was one thing I wanted most, it was freedom. To be liberated from my past, this house, everything that weighed me down. But to be free was nothing but a dream, a dream that would stay a dream. With a sigh I brushed the crumbs off my bed just as I heard a soft knock at my door. I grumbled a reply and Archie popped his head around the door. He was one of the carers of this place, only twenty three but with apparent experience with ‘troubled kids’. He was baby faced but his light blonde beard that framed his face hinted to his slight maturity. He was the complete opposite to me, tall, toned and normal. I’d give anything to be the latter.
“You missed dinner”. It sounded like a question but I always missed meals so it was more of an awkward conversation starter. After a silence, Archie shifted his weight to the other foot and entered the room, shoving his hands in his jean pockets. “How’s school going? I heard that you have some sort of report-”
“What is it that you want?” I cut him off, tired of the small talk. He looked away, eyes averted.
“It’s your birthday soon.” he mumbled.
“Yeah, so?”
“Well…I was wondering if we could talk about…about your plans for the future.”
“You mean how am I going to support myself once you kick me out?” There was an awkward silence and Archie refused to return the cold stare I was now giving him.
“Am I correct?” I asked, walking towards him. Detecting my movement, Archie took a step back, lifting his head.
“No…Well yes but-” I held up my hand to stop him. I really didn’t need him to keep beating around the bush.
“I’m not your problem, never have been as far as I’m concerned. So I turn eighteen in a week, big deal. All that means is that you have seven more days left till I’m gone. You should be celebrating.” I gave him a smile I really didn’t mean and headed for the door. His hand reached out and grabbed my arm before I left, yanking me backwards. His face was now very close to mine, so close that I could feel his breath wash over my skin. I closed my eyes briefly as it brought back raw memories I wanted to so badly forget.
“You don’t have to leave you know. No-one wants you to leave.”
“But no-one exactly wants me to stay either, do they?” Our eyes locked momentarily till he let out a sigh. We both knew who we were actually talking about. His eyes left mine and quickly looked down towards my lips.
“Lola…” but nothing else came out. He gave me the same sympathetic look I was used to seeing in everyone’s eyes every time they spoke to me. His hand came up to brush my scar but I flinched.
“Save it. Now would you please let go of me or get out.” He loosened his grip and held his hands up in surrender.
“Lola I’m not the bad guy here. I care about you.”
“Get out!” I screamed, shutting my eyes. His hands clamped firmly around my mouth, turning my screams into muffled ramblings.
“What are you doing? Do you want someone to come up here?” I backed up till I was against the wall breathing heavily. His hands were still around my mouth so I shook my head in protest.
“This is just like you Lola; you always have to make everything so difficult. I just wanted to talk to you, that’s all.” I squirmed under his hand. He slowly let go, glaring at me all the while. I coughed and straightened my back. He came closer to me, shortening the gap between us. His hand brushed away a stray hair and tucked it behind my ear. I didn’t struggle but my heart still beat wildly in my chest as a struggled to control my breathing.
“You know, there is a big part of me that wishes things were different.” I scoffed half heartedly, rolling my eyes and turned my head away. “Nearly eighteen and you still act like a child.”
“That never used to bother you,” I spat. He grabbed my face in one of his hands, forcing me to look at him.
“That’s because it was cute. You’re losing your charm now.” His voice softened as he looked deeper into my eyes as if trying to find something. “I remember this girl that adored me, wanted me and I wanted her.” His lips got closer and I fought the urge to bring mine to his. His lips brushed mine and I shivered. I hated how he made me feel. My heart struggled to conceal the emotion I was feeling, the emotions he always brought up in me. I wanted to feel his touch so bad it was like a wave crashing over me, overpowering me.
“You can have her.” I whispered, closing the gap between our lips kissing him hard. Frozen from the shock he didn’t move for several seconds and I took that time to wrap my arms around his neck, my fingers entwined in his shaggy hair. He kissed me back harder, moaning into my lips. Ages of tension and awkwardness exploded in our kiss. Archie grabbed onto my hips, one hand snaking up my back. I broke the kiss momentarily to tilt my head back, his kisses roaming down my neck. I bit my lip to fight a moan that threatened to escape.
“Archie,” I whispered.
“Archie?” A voice asked from outside the door. It was quiet but I heard it. Archie didn’t however and carried on kissing me, down my neck to my chest. I held him tighter to me forgetting all about the voice.
“Archie?” this time the voice was closer, clearer and he heard it. Within seconds Archie pushed me away from him so forcibly I stumbled and fell to the floor. I looked at him, tears stinging my eyes.
“Shit!” he exclaimed, running his hands through his hair. “This,” he motioned to the space between us, “can never happen again. Understand?” he panted, eyes wild.
“B…but you said…”
“Wanted. Past tense. Now get up.” I stared at him incredulously as all the hurt I felt months ago reared its head again. I stayed frozen on the floor my eyes blurring from tears.
“Fine, stay on the floor, do what you want. Seven days from now you’re no longer my problem like you said,” Archie spat slamming the door on his way out. I pulled my knees up to my chest and rocked back and forth. Tears fell but I didn’t make a sound I just I sat there till darkness fell around me listening to the sounds of laughter. That’s another thing eleven years in foster care teaches you, no matter what’s happening, no matter how you’re feeling the world still carries on without you.
It wasn’t till I heard nothing but the occasional snore outside my door that I finally got off the floor and made my way towards the mirror. My eyes were puffy and red and my hair stuck out in random places. I ran my hands over it in an attempt to make it better but without success. I sighed and sat by the window sill, looking out at the apple tree. Rain pelted down the window, streams flowing down it. The wind violently shook every branch on the tree threatening to knock the whole thing down. I don’t know what it was but something, something immensely compelling willed me to go outside into the brewing storm. I pulled on my shoes and my jacket and crept towards the front door, careful not to wake anyone. When I opened the front door I was pulled outside by a strong gust of wind. The solid door shut with a massive thud, surely waking someone but I didn’t care. I was out. I continued to walk towards the apple tree ignoring the masses of wet leaves that slapped against my rain coat. When I reached the tree it towered above me, branches swinging to and fro like spindly arms. The wind whipped around me, fastening my arms to my sides.
“Why me?” I didn’t realise was speaking out loud but once I started I didn’t stop. “What have I done that is so awfully wrong that I can’t have a single good thing happen to me?” I screamed at the tree, which no longer appeared to be what it was. In that moment it was the kids at the foster home, my mum, my worthless dad; Archie. All those who had hurt me, let me down and told I was worthless. “I just don’t understand! Please, just for once could something happen that will change my life. I’m nearly eighteen and what have I got to show for it? Nothing, that’s what!” A burst of wind struck me so hard I fell to my knees, my hands deep in a soggy mud. I laughed insanely to myself. “Is that the best you got? Come on. Give me your best shot, I’m already in hell!” My wet hair stuck to my face as I attempted to get up but the storm above me kept me down. A sharp crack of thunder surrounded me and a bright flash of light filled the forest blinding me for a while. The orchestra of roaring wind, snapping branches, and the clapping of thunder encircled me rendering me deaf to the thoughts in my head and I liked it. Using all the strength I could muster I struggled to my feet, still staring hopelessly at the tree.
“Come on! Give me your worst!” I screamed, tears tumbling down my cheeks. I heaved deep and heavy breaths not once moving my stare from the tree. It was pitch black all around me and only the quick bursts of light from the storm revealed the outline of the tree. Another gust of wind pushed me backwards, kicking the breath from my chest. I lifted my head defeated, trying to get one last look at the tree. Another flame of light illuminated not only the tree but I could have sworn an outline of something…no, someone.