Page 1 of Violent Skies

Idon’t believe in ghosts.

“You aren’t real.” My voice shakes.

But he’s standing at the end of our bed as the lightning crashes outside my window. I count under my breath, waiting in the dark for the next flash, and inhale sharply as his face appears.

“You’re dead,” I whisper over the sound of rain and thunder.

He’s dead.

Tears escape, but I can’t move. It’s like I’m frozen to the mattress, subjected to the torture of seeing him over and over.

Flash.

Koa’s face is tight and angry, his jaw clenched, and his eyes full of a harshness I’ve never seen before. “You’re dead,” I repeat as the thunder booms.

I curl my feet up under the quilt his mother made us for our wedding and hug my knees to my chest. “You left me,” I whisper as the lightning flashes. I’d give anything to have you back. “You’re sleep-deprived, Cress,” I grumble to myself and wait for the room to turn white again. The storm outside is getting worse.

“Leave me alone.” I snap, his form still frozen in time.

I close my eyes, wrapping my hand around the cross that hangs from my neck. But Koa is there too, his soft smile, paired with his warm Samoan features and his caramel eyes. He’s mocking me. I swallow the sadness and pray that when I open them, he’ll be gone. It’s just a nightmare.

The thunder booms, and I count again, waiting for the lightning.

When I open my eyes, he’s gone.

Something crashes in the kitchen, and I tense, dread coursing through my veins as I angle my body toward the door. But the darkness is all eclipsing, and the thin flash of lightning that touches the hallway walls does nothing to quell the fear that stirs. It’s when the glass shatters that I’m on my feet, reaching under my bed for the hammer that I keep tucked close to the nightstand.

I roll it into my palm and tug my cardigan closed as I creep over the old carpet and through the dark into the hallway. I know better than to call out into the void without knowing what’s waiting for me.

Narrowing my eyes, I wait for the lightning so I can survey the guest room door and bathroom at the other end of the hall before slinking out against the wall. I avoid the pictures hanging and creep to the archway that leads to the living room. Its wide windows are covered in heavy curtains, blocking most of the light provided to me.

My hand shakes around the handle as I angle my head around the corner just trying to source the sound of the breaking glass. My soft steps are muffled by thunder roaring through the roof. Something heavy crosses the old wooden flooring in the kitchen, the creaking sound echoing out into the dark house. I freeze, my heart in my throat as I slip back toward the couch with my eyes on the room around me. The lightning flashes, and a body twice my size crosses through the kitchen.

Tears sting at my eyes as the panic swells. My keys are in my purse… on the kitchen table. I drop to my knees gently, avoiding the spots on the floor behind the couch that I know will give me away. Holding my breath, I start to crawl, the pendant bouncing free of my tank top and swinging loosely around as I move as quietly as I can.

“She’s gotta be here somewhere,” a voice comes from the hallway, gruff and low but clear over the storm. More glass crashes, and around the edge of the couch, through the darkness, I watch as the framed photos from our wedding crash and hit the floor, shattering into pieces and casting the light with the most heartbreaking glimmer.

“Check the garage, make sure she didn’t slip out…” footsteps move around me, and I pause, holding my spot and waiting for them to distance themselves from me. Lightning snaps out and illuminates the kitchen to show two burly bodies throwing drawers from their places beneath the counter. My belongings explode to the floor and dance along the linoleum as they tear my home apart.

What do they want? I wait until they turn their backs on me and crawl to the cover of the love seat. I have nothing, I barely make enough to keep this place… the only valuable possession within the walls was Koa, and he’s gone now. What would he do? I press my forehead against the scratchy tan fabric to focus.

“She’s not in there, but, man, the car…”

Don’t touch that. Agony ripples through me. That’s his.

A sharp pain rips through my scalp, and I’m yanked off the floor, my feet flailing on the hardwood as my hand swings backward with the hammer as hard as I can. I connect with muscle, hard, and I know I’ve done some damage because I’m thrown across the room into the wall.

I hit the drywall with bruising force, and the air rushes from my lungs, but there’s no time to catch my breath. I scurry across the living room floor around the coffee table toward the kitchen. I just need to get outside.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” A fat hand wraps around my ankle and yanks harshly. I feel it in my hip, and I cry out. My skin scrapes against the wood as I claw with my free hand, but his strength wins out, and he flips me onto my back. I kick out with my other foot and catch him square in the jaw, but his grip doesn’t falter. “You fuckin—” He spits out a wad of blood as the living room flashes white.

I don’t wait for him to recover. I use what strength I have on my back to swing the hammer wildly for a second time. This time, I make contact with his cheek, and I hear the crack as he falls back away from me with a bellowing wail.

The second body appears in the entryway as I dart off my feet to beat him to the entrance of the kitchen. I just have to make it to the back door. Once outside, run, scream.

I remember the conversation like it was yesterday, “It’s a better neighbourhood, Cress. You’ll be safer here.” Turns out a nice house, on a nice street, means shit, Koa, I think as I scramble to gain my balance. Unfortunately for these idiots, once a street kid, always a street kid. I’m a hair faster and slide across the kitchen floor through the mess, only to be stopped dead in my tracks.

“No way out.” The third man blocks the back door with a smile on his face.