Uncovering You: The Contract

Chapter Five

(Eleven years ago)

I’m twelve. It’s night time. The air is cold, and a half-moon hangs from the cloudless sky.

A hooting owl cries out in the distance. My head jerks up from its slumped position against the wall.

I’m terrified of falling asleep down here. I’m afraid I’ll never wake up. What if I end up like that skeleton?

My left ankle is swollen and hot to the touch. The foot beneath it is numb. My stomach keeps tying itself into ever-tighter knots, reminding me of my hunger.

I wonder if my mom is worried about me. She’s been so busy with Paul lately that she hasn’t paid me any attention our entire vacation.

I don’t mind Paul. He never yells or drinks. He doesn’t hurt my mom like her last boyfriend did. He just kind of happily ignores me. I was always fine with that. At least he lets mom bring me to his lake house.

I wonder if I’ll ever see him or mom again. I broke all the steps when I fell. There’s no way out. If I am found…

But no, no one will ever find me down here.

~~~

Caw! Caw! Caw! Caw!

My eyes open and I’m hit with a rush of alarm. I was asleep! For how long? I only closed my eyes for a few moments…

The first tendrils of light shine through the air, making the dust shimmer with a sinister majesty. The raven is here again. Watching me.

“What do you want, bird?” I ask.

Caw! Caw!

“I can’t get up, okay?” I yell. Tears fill my eyes. I know I’m going to die here.

Caw! Caw! Caw! Caw! Caw!

“Leave me alone!” I scream.

Caw! Caw! Caw caw caw caw caw CAW CAW!

“I can’t reach!” I shriek. “I can’t jump! And even if my foot wasn’t broken, I wouldn’t be able to do it anyway!” I begin to cry. “What more do you want? Do you want another rock thrown at you? Was the first one not enough?” I grope at the ground and find nothing but dirt. I take a fist full of it and fling it up anyway.

Caw! Caw! The raven takes off and the dirt showers to the ground.

I’m left alone with nothing but the bugs and giant rat for company.

I hate this place. I hate the moist, earthy smell. I hate the darkness that clings to the corners even during the day. I hate how close the hole in the ceiling is. It mocks me. If I were just a few inches taller, maybe I’d be able to reach…

Caw! Caw! Caw!

I scream in frustration. Most of all, I hate that goddamn bird!

It flies into the cellar and lands a foot away from me. I stare at it, amazed. It’s utterly fearless. It looks at me with its beady black eyes, then starts sticking its beak into the ground, searching for breakfast.

Wait. The dirt. That’s it!

I look around me. Dig my fingers into the ground. It’s all soft, loose earth. I may not be tall enough to reach, but I sure as heck can build up a mound!

Determination sets in. I refuse to starve in a hole in the middle of the woods. I refuse to let my fear control me. That bird doesn’t even know the meaning of the word, and I refuse to let it best me.

I go on hands and knees and start shoveling.