Page 58 of Apathy
But in between all the lies, only four survived.
Can you hear their screams, they echo in the night?
The damned have gathered, for the Union is about to start.
Do you want to know the secrets of Winworth, Skylar? Do you want to know where it all started?
I took a step back, my knees shaking uncontrollably, while I kept rereading the contents of the letter.
What the fuck?
On the bottom part, attached to the paper, was a black-and-white picture. A picture I had never seen and one I would never forget. Five hooded figures, with their faces hidden behind white masks, stood huddled together, their hands in front of their bodies and what looked like an altar with the same symbol etched into its front side, situated ahead of them.
Terror, fear, damnation, it all oozed from the photo, and as if burned, I dropped it to the floor, my mind racing a thousand miles per hour. The urge to run rocked my body, and I took a step back, then another one, putting some distance between me and the terrifying picture lying on the floor. But even if I ran to the other side of the world, their soulless eyes would still haunt me.
Pitch-black, sinister, evil, so fucking evil, but I couldn’t leave it on the floor.
No matter how much I wanted to disappear, to pretend that some things didn’t happen, I had to face reality. I had questions.
So many fucking questions I felt like my head was about to explode. But most of all, I was getting angry. Furious at the psychopath stalking me and my friends, furious at this letter, furious at this sick picture lying at my feet. Furious at life and this place I called home. Lauren told me I was too apathetic for my own good, but what I felt right now was on a completely opposite side of apathy.
Anger.
Red, hot, simmering anger whispered through my veins, writing poems of darkness and fury on my skin. It hugged me, welcoming me into its embrace, and for the first time since this endless powerlessness, I felt strong. I felt formidable, ready to end this vicious circle in my life.
Screw them for fucking my life up.
Screw them for not loving me enough.
Screw them for looking at me with their judging eyes.
Screw them for the unspoken words whispered only behind my back.
Screw them for everything because I wasn’t having it anymore.
I crouched down and picked up the picture, staring at it as if it would help me to figure out who these people were. And maybe I couldn’t, not by looking at it, but this letter, this was the key. This emblem, these words… whoever wrote this wanted me to know more. Winworth had more secrets than any other place in the United States and I planned on unraveling at least one of them.
I pretended to be blind when things went wrong, because it was easier feigning disinterest than dealing with monstrosities surrounding us. First Zane, then Megan, and who was next? Who would die because I didn’t want to deal? Which girl was going to be found on the side of the road, or in the forest, or underneath that bridge separating the two sides of Winworth with my name carved on her skin?
One part of me wanted to slam my locker shut, turn around, and leave the school just so I could get high. Just so I could forget. But there was another part of me, an angry part, that wanted to make them suffer. I didn’t just want to disappear anymore, no.
I wanted to make them pay.
My father.
My mother.
Their friends who stood by while they tortured my body and my mind.
They were guilty, all of them. While I destroyed myself, day by day, piece by piece, they stood idly on the side, allowing them to do this to me. And whoever this person was, messaging me, doing this shit to other girls, they had to pay as well.
I just didn’t know how, at least not yet.
Slamming my locker shut, I put the picture in the front pocket of my pants and turned the green paper to the other side, my eyes widening at the text scribbled there.
Winworth Public Library—start there. Answers will come to you.
Un-fucking-believable.
