06

May 5th 2013. The date would forever be etched into my mind for something other than merely being my eighteenth birthday. What had occurred on that date, would forever lie etched there too. It was the date I learned the full power within me: the darkness I carried. 

Unable to stop the flow, my mind journeyed into the past.

I was shoved to the ground, my attacker placing his knees on the back of my thighs to hold me down as he quickly tied my wrists together. 

“Shane, stop. Why? Why are you doing this?” I cried.

"Shut the fuck up!" he hissed, then following his words, he pulled the bandanna off his head, stilling any further words I could have said by gagging me.

What came after was a period I only wanted to forget—to deny it had ever happened. 

The monstrous attack had taken forever, it seemed, and when he had finally finished, Shane Craig had climbed to his feet and straightened his clothes. Afterward, reaching down, he'd picked up the rope still tethered around my throat and began tugging at it until I'd had no choice but to stand as well. 

Once I'd gained a standing position, he'd pulled me behind him until we had reached the nearby pond. There, he'd jerked me forward until I'd stood next to him, where, after untying my hands and removing the rope around my neck, he had pushed me into the pond, sneering, "Clean yourself up." 

Afterward, turning, he began walking away, tossing over his shoulder, "You keep your fucking mouth shut about this."

There hadn't been any way I could have realized the flirting he had always done was a sign—that it had been anything other than what it had seemed—harmless. It was just who he had been…his personality. He had flirted as easily as he had drawn air, and at the time, I'd seen nothing wrong with it. He had been Rook and Keely's cousin after all. Why would I have thought anything else lurked behind the winks, the grins, the words. But, just like he had told me to do, I'd kept my mouth shut. 

To this day, I couldn’t help but wonder if maybe I had been more observant at the time, if maybe I hadn’t taken his flirting so lightly, paid more attention to the increasing touches, the more suggestive words, that maybe I could have seen the growing sickness within him, it might have prevented his actions—as well prevented what I did to him afterward. His death had been slow and painful—thankfully, corpses don’t talk.

The pull of my magic once again wafted through me, and again I pushed the urge aside. Now was not the time to tinker with it. I was angry, deeply angry. For the past year, I had used my magic sparingly, fearing what I might unleash if I let what was inside me out again. I'd always been taught, either you were a light witch, or a dark witch—it was impossible to be both. But, I had. However, I'd later learned that one of my ancestors was supposedly capable of wielding both forms of magic also, and as such, I'd learned I was a ticking time-bomb, ready to explode and the outcome wouldn't be good for anyone. The assault had been a trigger, setting loose the darkness within me. I'd only released it once, but it was growing, overpowering the light within me. 

Slowly letting out a breath, I turned and began making my way from the room. I didn't know how much time had passed, but I could only hope it had been significant enough Rook would be gone from my room.

Minutes later, finding my room empty, I sat down on the edge of my bed and put my head in my hands, my misery relaying itself in the moisture that seeped through my fingers, as weakened from my encounter with Rook earlier, the full memory of that night would no longer be held back. 

~~

After Rook had left me outside the barn that night, I'd been unable to settle the chaotic feelings inside me, so I'd gone to the stable and saddled my mare. At a slight sound behind me, I'd turned to see Shane, eyes glazed and feverishly bright from the drugs he'd consumed, watching me. 

It wasn't the first time I'd witnessed his drug use, but I hadn't been aware of him using anything other than marijuana. However, at seeing the white, powdery residue still gracing the end of a rolled up bill, and the bottom of the bucket he'd used to lay out his line, I'd realized he'd turned to much harder drugs. He'd continued to gaze at me, before stating, “I got something you can ride.” 

Though his words were disturbing, I'd shrugged and laughed off his comment, murmuring, “You wish,” before climbing in the saddle, I'd ridden out of the barn.

Half an hour later, though, I hadn't been laughing any longer. Instead, I'd been sobbingly desperate.

I'd climbed out of the pond, gut-wrenching sobs issuing from between my lips, as making my way over to my shorts, I'd picked them up off the ground from where Shane had tossed them. Then, with my hands trembling so violently I'd lost my grip on them several times, I'd finally managed to retain my hold as I'd slowly pulled them up my legs. Afterward, I began the trek back to the barn by foot, tugging on my mare's reins to get her to follow me. 

As I'd walked, I'd replayed within my mind what had occurred, knowing I'd never be able to block out the image of Shane bending over me, a drug-induced frenzy apparent within his eyes as he had stripped me of my magic and bound my hands together behind my back with the end of the rope he'd pulled off the saddle of his horse.

The sun had been up for an hour when I'd finally made it back to the barn. Rook had been in the corral, his features concealed beneath the brim of the dusty cowboy hat clamped tightly on his head.

His gloved hand gripped the leather rigging between his legs and his forearm muscles bulged with the effort. Legs moving in rapid succession, he'd spurred the horse beneath him on its shoulders. At the bite of the spurs, the horse had whirled and bucked, trying to dislodge Rook from its back. As Rook had worked the horse, I couldn't help but stop and stare. His mastering of the beast was an awesome sight that had always fascinated me.                                                                                                                                      

Against my will, my eyes slid from Rook and toward Shane. Leg resting on a board of the corral fence and arms crossed and propped on the upper rail, he'd gazed in my direction. Reaching up, he'd touched two fingers to the brim of his hat in salutation, a cruel smirk curving up the edge of his lips.

Revulsion had washed through me, and I had turned and made my way into the barn. Hours later, the darkness within me had shown its face for the first time and I had killed Shane.

I can’t say I regret what I’d done. I had never before wanted to take a life. However, I felt no remorse even now for the act. Maybe it was the part of me I hadn’t known existed within me, until then. Maybe it was a normal reaction that anyone would have felt after what Shane had done. 

I didn’t know. What I did know though, was he would never harm another. I had made sure of it. I had made sure, as well, no one would ever find his body. No one would ever know, but me, what had happened to Shane Craig. It was best that way. Some secrets needed to remain just that—secrets.