Note From The Author:
Thank you for reading the first chapter to my second release, Fighting Quiet. This story took hold with an unrelenting grip. I can't wait to share it with you on its planned release of Saturday, February 27th, 2021. If this first chapter intrigues you, take a gander over to my purchase links here and grab a copy! I encourage all my readers to shop small and local, as I've included several links to our local booksellers. Fighting Quiet is available at most independent bookstores across the USA, and major retailers internationally. Thank you for supporting an indie author, and please share with friends and family!
Now...grab a blanket, cuddle up and enjoy.
**Fighting Quiet is intended for audiences 18 and older due to triggering scenes, mature content and language. Readers please be advised.
Chapter 1: Maddie
He was drunk again. His belligerent screams shook the house as he stomped across the kitchen looking for us. Looking for me. I shivered under my covers as something loud crashed downstairs. I prayed that it was Frank’s head, smashing into something hard and lethal, and he wouldn’t wake back up. Ever. But I knew it was the dinner I had left him before I went to bed. The pathetic assortment of stale chips and expired lunch meat. He hadn’t gotten groceries in a few weeks, and it was all that was left besides the bottle of whiskey he nursed on the bad nights. Bad nights like tonight. Jason and I had eaten the moldy parts for ourselves, trying to leave the rest for him. But as I plated the chips and meat, I knew it wouldn’t be enough. Nothing was ever enough. My stomach groaned loudly, aching and begging for food. I quickly tried to stifle the sounds with my blanket, but my body couldn’t handle the last few weeks of blatant malnutrition. My eyes stung as I blinked away a stray tear. I was so hungry, and yet so nauseous I couldn’t tell whether I wanted to eat or puke.
“Where the fuck are you, you little bitch ?” His voice rattled up the staircase. My cue to hide. It was never good when he found us. Sometimes he was so drunk that he never made it up the stairs. But that was only sometimes. And the way his footsteps hammered across the floor, uncoordinated and lazy as they were, it would only be a matter of time before he’d find me and hurt me. My heart dropped as the distinct sound of the first step creaked, mixing with another loud groan from my stomach.
Come on. Get out of bed and hide!
“You better hope I don’t find you…” he taunted in a slurred singsong as his heavy footfalls sounded on the second step. That was enough to get me going. I quickly slid out of bed and tiptoed to the closet, careful not to make a sound.
Quiet. Be quiet.
I could hear the sloshing of his whiskey hitting the hardwood as he climbed the stairs, inching closer. He was faster than normal, his steps more controlled and intentional as his heavy work boots hit each step. That meant he would hit harder, and his aim would be unfortunately accurate. I made it to my closet when a clammy hand closed around my wrist. Before I could scream, another hand found its way up to my mouth, clamping down. My back hit a hard chest as small steady breaths blew against my neck.
“It’s just me, Maddie. It’s okay.”
Relief spilled over me as Jason’s soft, soothing voice covered me. Protected me. Even as our foster father’s drunken, hateful spews bounced off the walls outside my room, I felt safe. Jason was here now. He quickly pushed me into the closet and huddled in with me, closing the door, careful not to make any sounds.
We listened intently as his footsteps continued to ascend the stairs, but all I could hear was the pounding in my chest.
“I work all day…” he huffed, slowing as he neared the top of the stairs. “Just to feed you little shits, and this is how you repay me?” His voice boomed, and Jason pulled me under him, shielding me from the darkness that crept closer. Jason always knew how to keep me safe. On nights like these, he’d do everything he could to hide me before the inevitable beating would come. And when he’d find us, he always took the brunt of it, hoping to wear Frank out before he got to me. Jason was strong like that. So much stronger than any kid I’d ever met. He was only nine, just two years older than me, and rail thin like I was. But somehow, despite his age, his spirit could fill the entire room. Somehow, he made everything okay again even when the world around us was crumbling. I remember the first time I’d seen him the night I arrived at this godforsaken house. The overly happy social worker had knelt down and pointed at my new foster brother.
“And this is Jason!” she’d cooed, her high-pitched voice piercing my ears. I had just lost my parents a week ago from a car accident. They had run out to get groceries while I stayed with the neighbor. Groceries, and then gone, simple and tragic as that. And then it was just me. I sometimes figured that was why Frank seldom got groceries. Because he might be killed in a random crash like my parents. But I came to know better.
In that week alone, I had seen more faces than I ever cared to see again. A sea of strangers and strange places. Sleeping on beds that weren’t mine, and wishing I could smell my mother’s perfume, when all that smothered my senses anymore was the stench of other people’s sweat and pity. Now, here I was in a new house, with a kid staring me down like he wanted to kill me. And I silently wished he would. I hated this new place, and these new smells. I hated this world without my parents and my house. I missed my before. Where Sundays were together, and the laundry was clean, and my parents were safe and alive. Certainly not here, with a strange musty stench coming from upstairs while a bizarre boy scowled at me like I was a piece of trash. Like I was unwanted. Jason’s eyes had flashed dangerously at me, his lips twisting at the corners of his mouth like he wanted to tell her to take me somewhere else. At first, I thought he was actually going to tell her that, before he ran out the back door without a word. He hadn’t even bothered to say “hi” or “fuck you.”
“Looks like they’ll just be two peas in a pod!” she’d laughed, turning her attention to my new dad.
“And this—” She’d gestured toward the tall, broad-shouldered man in front of me. “—is Frank.”
Frank had politely extended his hand out to me, his green eyes bright and kind. I remember the way my hand had disappeared in his, and the way his callouses scraped against my palm. Just like my dad’s. And for a second, I felt a sense of relief that maybe things could be like before. But I learned very quickly that there’s only a before and an after. The pieces don’t always fit back together when they break, especially if some of them are missing.
Jason’s unwarranted hatred toward me had only lasted until my social worker had left. And by then I had escaped upstairs into my bedroom to begin the ultimate pity party. I had gotten well into my first round of sobs and had even begun plotting out my escape route when his shaggy head peeked in my room.
“Do you want to see my castle?” he had asked, his smile big and playful, like he hadn’t just acted like a dang fool earlier. I wiped away the string of tears crawling down my cheek and frowned at him. Was he for real right now? I huffed, annoyed he was interrupting my escape plan and the fact he wasn’t showing any signs of apologizing from earlier. I almost yelled at him to leave, but the way his face lit up intrigued me. He said there was a castle. And if there was even a chance of truth at that, I wanted in. His features were humble and maybe even guilty as he watched another tear fall.
“It’s just outside, if you want to see it.” He gestured toward the window where a tall tree stared back. My gaze darted from the window to him, his shoulders sagging like an apologetic dog. I suppose this was his peace offering. And right then, I think that was what I wanted most of all. Peace. I sniffed, pulling my shoulders back and headed over to the window, making sure I didn’t get too close to him, and peered out at the yard. Disappointment flooded through me at the less than exciting scene below. Boring brown-yellowed grass lined with overgrown weeds scattered the lawn. There were no toys, no chairs, and certainly no castle.
“I don’t see a castle,” I sighed, doing my best to match the ugly scowl he’d given me earlier. But it clearly didn’t do its job, because his face broke into an earth-shattering smile I simply wasn’t prepared for. He shook his head, his black hair getting in his eyes.
“No, look again.” He pointed insistently at the tree, his brown eyes sparkling and hopeful. I blinked at him, trying to see if maybe this was his way of distracting me while he did something mean. I couldn’t read him, and I wasn’t sure what to expect from all his mixed messages. One minute he was looking at me like I was the scum of the earth, and the next, his face was nearly glowing with reverence, as if I was an angel. His angel. I sucked on my bottom lip as I surveyed him, waiting for that terrifying scowl to come out again. For him to push me or scare me like some of the boys did at school. But he didn’t; his smile just grew wider as he gestured toward the window again.
“Fine,” I huffed as I pressed my nose to the glass, wishing hard that there was a castle. But no such luck as the tree continued to tower over us, unchanging.
“Oops, I forgot to sprinkle the magic dust.” He shook his head and rolled his eyes as if he couldn’t believe his forgetfulness. He reached into his pocket and pinched nothing but air in between his fingers. I watched unimpressed as he threw his “dust” against the window and stood back proudly, waving his hand as if it had worked.
“Now do you see it?”
I stared blankly at the tree, still as treelike as ever, no magical kingdom in sight. I turned back to confirm yet again that there was still no castle but stopped short as I caught his expression. It was pleading. No, begging for me to see what he saw. His smile was frozen and painted on as if one more denial would break him. And even though he had humiliated me earlier, and wasn’t showing any signs of saying sorry, I wanted no part in breaking this boy in front of me.
I quickly nodded, breaking out my first attempt of a smile since my parents died. “Ah, I think I see it now…” I had said, pointing at the tree. His smile widened, relief crashing over his face in grateful waves. And I learned very quickly that I craved a little piece of fantasy in my own rocked-over world. Probably just like Jason had. We both needed that castle, and so there it was, tall and immaculate, standing where the tree stood moments before.
“Only those that are pure of heart can see it.” His face fell and my heart constricted at the sadness behind his eyes. “Frank can’t see it. So this is where we go when we want to be safe.” His words were heavy and cryptic. I didn’t understand them, and I didn’t understand why my stomach sank as I replayed them over later that night in bed. But I didn’t dwell too much on those things, because when your parents are gone and all you have left are the little moments, you focus on the good ones. I was ecstatic that Jason was willing to share his secret kingdom with me. And soon it became ours. We spent almost every summer night ruling our kingdom, dancing with the fireflies and making wishes under the moon. With Jason, I was strong and powerful. I could fight off trolls and tame dragons. I could entertain our guests at the royal ball and sing songs to heal the sick villagers. With Jason, I was a princess, and he was a prince. And for a little bit, I savored the happily ever after that followed my tragic before.
But the weeks went by, and the weather got colder, just like Frank’s eyes. And I started to long for my before again. Though Jason and I had thrived in our magic, all good stories must come to an end. Frank’s once kind smile seemed forced and faded whenever he was home, which was rare. So Jason and I were left alone to fend for ourselves. We washed the clothes, cleaned the house, and made sure that everything was taken care of before Frank came home. Jason was very particular about how things were to be folded and hung up. He would often refold the clothes I had done, his hands careful and precise. I’d never seen a kid so obsessive over household chores, but I also never saw kids do this much around the house to begin with.
“How come you always fold my clothes again?” I’d asked as I watched Jason redo one of the shirts I had just laid down. He froze and sucked on his cheek before he slowly shifted his gaze to meet mine. I flinched at the pain behind his eyes, the same pain I’d seen the first day we’d met after he explained that Frank couldn’t see our castle.
“I’ve got to keep my princess safe,” he’d whispered and dropped his eyes back to his work, more determined than ever with each crease and fold. Sometimes it felt like he spoke in another language that only he knew. Everything he said had a hidden meaning that I was too scared to decipher. I didn’t understand how refolded laundry could keep me safe. Or how the Cheerios and water we’d been having every night was supposed to be enough for both of us. How could we fight off the dragon with empty stomachs? When Frank started to come home more often, I started to fit the pieces together. And when it was time for bed, Jason would take my hand and lead me upstairs, tuck me in, and kiss me on the forehead.
“Say your prayers and stay quiet, Maddie. We can’t wake the dragon, okay?” he’d always warned before going to bed. I always thought that monsters only existed in our kingdom outside, and they stayed there for us to slay the next day. But fantasies sometimes twist with reality, and finally I understood what Jason had been trying to tell me.
I’ll never forget the first time I heard the sound of Frank’s fists pounding into Jason’s flesh over the milk being left out. The milk that I had left out. I screamed the whole time as his hands flew, smashing into Jason’s beautiful face. But Jason never made a sound. No crying or begging as I whimpered in the corner. Just silence. Instead, he’d just look at me, his dark eyes urgent for me to stay away and out of sight. And as Frank’s evil green eyes practically glowed from the light of the moon, and his scaly hands hurt my prince, I learned that dragons don’t just terrorize kingdoms. They can sleep down the hall in a musty old house too.
I jumped as the sound of glass breaking shattered outside my door, bringing me back to the nightmare I was living. Glass. Frank just finished the bottle of whiskey.
“You’d better tell me where you are, or—”
My stomach growled again betrayingly as I fought the urge to vomit up my disgusting excuse for a dinner. I squeezed my eyes shut, as if that would make the noises stop and I would be less hungry, less terrified. I felt Jason’s body tense against me in defeat as a loud snarl of laughter ripped across my room. A series of footsteps pounded toward us, and Jason pulled me closer against him, bracing for the hurricane storm outside. A rush of air hit me as the closet door flew open, the stench of alcohol and cigarettes burning my nose. I refused to look at Frank; all I could do was stare at the back of Jason’s neck as goose bumps formed at his hairline.
In a moment’s time, Jason was plucked from me like a loose hair. An eerie chill replaced the warmth Jason provided as I watched Frank pull back his fist. Jason’s head flung back with the first painful blow, and I smothered a sob as he fell to the floor. Quiet filled the room besides Frank’s heavy breathing as my prince struggled back to his feet. Jason’s eyes landed on me, pleading that I stay back. And for once I wished that he would just stay down and let Frank start with me. I started to run toward him, but his hardened gaze shot daggers at me as he wiped a stream of blood from his mouth.
Stay quiet, Maddie.
Or perhaps he wanted me to run, but there was no way in hell I would leave him alone. He never left me alone to fend against the fleet of dragons in our kingdom. And I sure as hell wouldn’t leave him now as Frank eyed him like a piece of meat, ready for the slaughter. Frank wound back his fist again, and it crashed against Jason’s nose. A sickening crack resonated across the room, and his body went limp and blood poured down his mouth onto the floor.
“Stop it!” I screamed, ignoring Jason’s warning as I hurtled toward them. Before I could make it two steps, air rushed out of me as my back hit the ground. Rough hands gripped my throat, and darkness threatened to close in. I tried to suck in air, but there was none to take as his hands pressed deeper, scraping and stabbing. Killing. I clawed at his arms and tried to scream again, but nothing could escape me as I fought to breathe.
“I’ve had it with you, you little bitch,” he sneered as sweat beaded above his brow. Light poured through the window, shadowing his features, disfiguring the beast before me. The dragon. His rotting breath clouded around me as he forced his body weight onto my neck. His once kind green eyes shone fiery and yellow as he watched my life slip between his fingers.
My prince. I needed to see Jason. I tried to turn my head, hoping that I could at least see one last beautiful thing before he killed me. He was nowhere to be found as blackness surrounded me, closing in fast. A weightlessness took hold as Frank’s hands continued to squeeze around my neck. And suddenly I felt like I was floating. Drifting through the clouds above our magical kingdom where Jason and I had lived and loved. Where we had cherished each other and fought for each other.
Someone down below was yelling, but I couldn’t understand what they were saying. Maybe they were telling me to fly free. Oh, how I wanted to listen and soar away under the whispering stars above, the moon leading the way. I’d be far from the hunger and the hurt. I’d finally be with my parents again. My angels. But a thought echoed over me that shrouded my peace. If I flew away, Jason would be alone. And suddenly the weight was lifted. My ears rang from the pressure, and I was finally able to heave in a gutted breath. One life-giving inhale. Commotion whirled off to the right, but I couldn’t focus as black dots lined my vision. Voices and hushed whispers hissed all around me, but one spoke over the rest, loud and clear.
“Breathe! Breathe!”
I gasped for air, but my throat closed in, rejecting my will to live. A cough pushed air out, but only a small wheeze escaped. I felt a hand grip my wrist and pull, but I couldn’t find my footing. The world started to spin, and I was quickly reminded how fragile I really was. A twig under the dragon’s claw.
Larger, stronger hands gripped my shoulders, and once again I was floating. No, this time I was flying. I could hear the whoosh of air under my wings as I sailed on home. And then I couldn’t hear anything.
Just quiet.
And not even Jason could fight the quiet.