newspaper across his map, concealing it from my view “What’s up, cousin?”
“Nothing. Just stretching my legs.”
“Go stretch them someplace else.” Audette speaks with her mouth against Henry’s temple.
Henry sticks his head out of his compartment. “Get back to your seat and stay there. The old man gave instructions that he didn’t want to be disturbed.”
“I know that,” I say indignantly.
I pretend to retrace my steps, but instead wait until they are so engrossed in each other that they don’t notice me steal my way back past them. I creep past sleeping clowns—lazy clowns who didn’t bother to remove their makeup before boarding the train. A blast of hot air hits my face as I open the door. I don’t want to step out there into the open, especially not with the train rushing along a bridge so high it feels as though we’re travelling through the sky itself. With my heart banging, I balance along the join between the carriages and grip the handle of the next carriage—and wench it open. Grandfather is sleeping in his compartment, but his sleep is restless. Sitting beside him, I curl my legs up on the seat and rest my head on his shoulder.
The train chugs on relentlessly. The sight of the vast open spaces below the tracks makes my stomach churn like butter.
A ricocheting sound explodes in my ears.
Grandfather yells as he wakes. He stares into my eyes and grasps my arms.
Screeching—metal torn, ripped apart.
The train tips, hurtles downwards, into nothingness.
Grandfather shouts my name over and over and over. We’re tossed in the air like rag dolls. Flung from roof to floor. Desperately clutching onto whatever we can. Until we’re torn away.
Until blackness consumes me.
CASSIE
Present Day
15. CRIMSON RIBBONS
Mom drew the curtains in the hospital room. I should have been jubilant I was out of the darkness of the underground, back into a place I never thought I'd see again. But my mind was brittle and dry, like bones. Clawing things swept around me—memories and nightmares. Monsters.
I had no fight left in me. I had nothing.
I woke more than I slept.
First thing in the morning, doctors came and carried out all kind of tests. One of the tests involved examining every square inch of my body and taking photographs, especially of the cuts and bruises. Another test involved examining my private areas. Mom held my hand while I waited for them to finish, whispering to me repeatedly that
it’s okay
.
I gazed directly at her, pretending strangers weren’t photographing my naked body. “Mom, I want to go home.”
“You will, soon. I’m so sorry, baby. They need to do their checks to make sure you’re all right.”
“Where are the others?”
She smiled tightly. “I’m not sure, Cassie. I haven’t heard anything.”
I fell in and out of sleep all day. Without the tea, I found it impossible to sleep for long stretches. Mom asked if the TV might help me into sleep and I nodded. I tried watching a movie—but the happy world it portrayed was just so remote I couldn’t bear it. Every line spoken was a lie, every smiling face was just a mask, and around every corner was some horrific vortex waiting to drag the actors inside. I began shaking, wanting to scream at the screen. Mom switched it off, brushing back the hair on my damp forehead.
A nurse came and gave me tablets.
“It’s a heavy dose,” she told mom. “But her body needs rest.”
I didn’t care that the nurse spoke to mom and not me as though I was a child. I gratefully swallowed the tablets. I wanted escape. I could no longer endure the thoughts crowding my head.
In the bleakness of the morning, I struggled awake. My head was a fog. Mom slept in a cot beside me. At least we had a private room where there was room for her to have a bed and not have to sleep in a chair.
At the back of my mind, the cruel silver eye bored through the haze, bored deep into me—knowing my past, knowing my future. My
“Nothing. Just stretching my legs.”
“Go stretch them someplace else.” Audette speaks with her mouth against Henry’s temple.
Henry sticks his head out of his compartment. “Get back to your seat and stay there. The old man gave instructions that he didn’t want to be disturbed.”
“I know that,” I say indignantly.
I pretend to retrace my steps, but instead wait until they are so engrossed in each other that they don’t notice me steal my way back past them. I creep past sleeping clowns—lazy clowns who didn’t bother to remove their makeup before boarding the train. A blast of hot air hits my face as I open the door. I don’t want to step out there into the open, especially not with the train rushing along a bridge so high it feels as though we’re travelling through the sky itself. With my heart banging, I balance along the join between the carriages and grip the handle of the next carriage—and wench it open. Grandfather is sleeping in his compartment, but his sleep is restless. Sitting beside him, I curl my legs up on the seat and rest my head on his shoulder.
The train chugs on relentlessly. The sight of the vast open spaces below the tracks makes my stomach churn like butter.
A ricocheting sound explodes in my ears.
Grandfather yells as he wakes. He stares into my eyes and grasps my arms.
Screeching—metal torn, ripped apart.
The train tips, hurtles downwards, into nothingness.
Grandfather shouts my name over and over and over. We’re tossed in the air like rag dolls. Flung from roof to floor. Desperately clutching onto whatever we can. Until we’re torn away.
Until blackness consumes me.
CASSIE
Present Day
15. CRIMSON RIBBONS
Mom drew the curtains in the hospital room. I should have been jubilant I was out of the darkness of the underground, back into a place I never thought I'd see again. But my mind was brittle and dry, like bones. Clawing things swept around me—memories and nightmares. Monsters.
I had no fight left in me. I had nothing.
I woke more than I slept.
First thing in the morning, doctors came and carried out all kind of tests. One of the tests involved examining every square inch of my body and taking photographs, especially of the cuts and bruises. Another test involved examining my private areas. Mom held my hand while I waited for them to finish, whispering to me repeatedly that
it’s okay
.
I gazed directly at her, pretending strangers weren’t photographing my naked body. “Mom, I want to go home.”
“You will, soon. I’m so sorry, baby. They need to do their checks to make sure you’re all right.”
“Where are the others?”
She smiled tightly. “I’m not sure, Cassie. I haven’t heard anything.”
I fell in and out of sleep all day. Without the tea, I found it impossible to sleep for long stretches. Mom asked if the TV might help me into sleep and I nodded. I tried watching a movie—but the happy world it portrayed was just so remote I couldn’t bear it. Every line spoken was a lie, every smiling face was just a mask, and around every corner was some horrific vortex waiting to drag the actors inside. I began shaking, wanting to scream at the screen. Mom switched it off, brushing back the hair on my damp forehead.
A nurse came and gave me tablets.
“It’s a heavy dose,” she told mom. “But her body needs rest.”
I didn’t care that the nurse spoke to mom and not me as though I was a child. I gratefully swallowed the tablets. I wanted escape. I could no longer endure the thoughts crowding my head.
In the bleakness of the morning, I struggled awake. My head was a fog. Mom slept in a cot beside me. At least we had a private room where there was room for her to have a bed and not have to sleep in a chair.
At the back of my mind, the cruel silver eye bored through the haze, bored deep into me—knowing my past, knowing my future. My
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