Necroben's StoryBlog

Forever Young

Melanie skipped down the sidewalk, her smile as bright as the sunshine. Her backpack, normally as heavy as she was, bounced around weightless. Twirling she danced with the report card held close to her chest. All A’s; her daddy would be so proud of her.

Jumping over the flowerpot by the mailbox, she raced down the driveway to the front door. Her laughter threatened to escape as she fumbled for the key hanging from her neck. Instead, she settled for jumping up and down—she didn’t want to spoil the surprise for her Mom.

No one was home. Melanie dropped the bag full of books on the floor and plopped down on the couch. Her face scrunched up as hot tears filled her eyes. Her mother’s laughter sang out from the kitchen. Hope surged through her as she snatched the paper prize and ran to the other side of the house.

A dark haired handsome man she knew all too well sat beside her mother, enfolding her hands in his. Her mother looked up as she entered, “Hey Pumpkin,” she said.

Holding her report card out in both hands—a flimsy shield—she said, “Look Mom.”

“I see it dear. Look, we have company. You remember Uncle Chase don’t you?” She asked, gazing into Chase’s eyes.

“Uncle Chase” wasn’t her “Uncle” at all. Just one of many men Mom brought home, though this one had been around before. He patted Mom’s hand, got up, and left the room.

“Now you be a good girl while Uncle Chase is here,” Mom said, shaking her finger as she followed him out of the kitchen.

Melanie put her report card on the table and pulled a chair over to the counter. She knew better, knew she would be caught, but that’s what she wanted. Reaching between the knife block and the toaster, she grabbed the cookie jar. After looking over her shoulder, she opened the jar, pulled out a cookie, thought a moment, and seized a second.

Grabbing what she came for, and then taking a bite of a cookie, she hit the jar. The clear glass exploded, sending glittering shards across the floor. Chocolate chips and crumbs littered the kitchen, punctuating the devastation.

“What on earth? Melanie! What are you doing? Get down from there,” her mother spluttered. “No, don’t help. Just, just go to your room! Now!”

Hours later, Melanie stared up at the stars above her bed put up by her father. So that even on a cloudy night, she would always have stars. She wished he could be here now.

The door to her room swung open and “Uncle” Chase walked in, the knife in his hand gleaming in the moonlight from her window.

“Now sweetie, do I have to tell you again what’ll happen to your mother if you say anything?”

She shook her head; not wanting to speak, not wanting what was coming.

He leaned over her, stroking her hair, kissing her; still holding the knife. Chase didn’t put the blade down until her knickers were around her knees. Grasping his hair in one hand and lifting his face from her belly, she stabbed his throat with her own stolen knife.

Even twenty years later, the horror of that night still paralyzed her, still froze the blood in her veins when a man walked too near. Her mother, God rest her soul, had already been butchered before Chase had come after her.

Melanie continued to search for her father, she still had so many questions; did she do the right thing? Would he love her now, or was she forever soiled? Had he ever loved her, and if so, why did he leave?