Page 6 of Lost & Found

Another violent shiver coursed through me. The faded slip hung loosely on her slender frame, worn and threadbare. All of her clothing was that way. But it was the Phantom of the Opera half-mask that drew my gaze today. It contrasted with her pale skin. It concealed the worst of her scars.

She had beautifully ornate ones with jewels that often matched her gown, but those were again for times she was forced to accompany the Mask on outings. Most days it was plain metal, and the sunlight gleamed off it. She moved with a grace born of necessity; she was constantly in teaching mode.

Her eyes moved to check on Summer, then Winter, and finally me. All of a sudden a sharp pain crossed my abdomen, making me gasp, and then almost immediately a small rush of fluid wet my underwear.

This was not happening. It was too soon. No. No. No.

Twinges and tiny pangs of discomfort washed over me, and I felt flushed. My stomach churned, and a wave of nausea swept through my body. My head spun. This was what Sonny had been waiting for.

I pushed up onto my feet. My vision swam as a small trickle of blood ran down my leg. I clutched my abdomen, and a series of sharp claps cut through the air like cracks of a whip. The sound was a signal; time to go inside.

No one left behind.

Poor Spring flinched, and my heart sank at the look of sadness on her face. We still had thirty minutes of outside time, and it was honestly the safest place for her. Being outdoors always cleared her head, and she rarely got into trouble here.

Once more, guilt consumed me. My getting my stupid period might increase her chances of messing up. With the lineup signal given, each of the three girls made their way over to the hatch door and took their seasonal position, leaving space for me.

I looked up into X’s eyes. The pool of green swam with unshed tears for me. She knew what this meant. The feel of her gentle touch found its way to my right arm, where the misshapen heart birthmark lay hidden beneath my school uniform sleeve. Her fingers traced it.

Normally, she wasn’t so bold to do it outside of my bedroom. The gesture had a slightly calming effect, and I knew it was her way of consoling me. The warmth of it seeped into my skin and made me ache for my mother.

She tore a small part of her shift and dotted it along my leg in an effort to clean the blood. Our eyes met once more. In her gaze was a mixture of understanding and remorse. Her tears finally spilled forward, huge and wet, trailing down her cheeks.

She helped me to the line, and Summer and Winter caught on pretty quickly. Maybe it was the way I was holding my stomach, or maybe they’d seen the blood X tried to clean from me. Either way, shame coursed through me. Every movement exacerbated the queasiness, leaving me feeling weak and helpless.

X walked us down the hatch steps into the long, dark corridor that would lead to our rooms. Once all the other girls were locked in, she turned to me. Her eyes drifted to the camera facing my door. We each had one.

She gulped. She would have to tell. The fear in her eyes made me realize she was internally struggling with wanting to speak. I turned my body away from her, determined not to see her suffer because of me. She unlocked my door and gestured for me to enter. Another cramp seized my mid-section, and I winced.

Even though I knew what the books said, it didn’t prepare me for the pain. Or the mess. I wanted to change, but knew that I didn’t have permission, so I moved to stand outside my bathroom door and waited.

Twenty minutes passed, and the Mask and the Collector entered my room. Following close behind them was X. She carried a small box of supplies and awaited her instructions.

“We will celebrate tonight, you, me and Sonny. He will be so proud and excited. This is an excellent day, Autumn. X is going to help you clean up and show you how to properly use the pads given to you. You are not to dispose of them as instructed. Sonny wishes to inspect each one.”

Each word dripped with the sick reality that even in this, I was not allowed privacy or a sense of normalcy. Of course, nothing about this was normal. My mother should be the one holding the box of supplies, not X.

I kept my head bowed but offered the words I knew were expected of me. “Yes, Sir.”

“I’ll leave X to help you prepare for dinner. I’m beyond thrilled that Sonny chose you. You’ll be an amazing dolly for his collection. Hopefully, he won’t tire of you as he did your predecessor. A lot of that will depend on you and how you take to his instructions. Pay attention. Since this is such a momentous occasion, I will allow X to give you the tips and tricks she failed to master.”

My head snapped up, and I swallowed back bile. My future split in two. The sick and twisted path Sonny had partially outlined for me over the years. Or the sick and twisted path of becoming X one day.

That was if Spring didn’t take the position. It was a threat the Mask had issued more and more. And now X was given permission to speak to me. What would she say?

“I’ll remind you, girl, stick to the information she needs and that alone. I will be listening in and expect nothing but total obedience.” He directed the words at X. They were laced with a cruelty that took any joy out of the moment.

Soon it was just X and me. She started the shower and allowed me a small modicum of space to bathe on my own. It was more for her own salvation in the event that the water drowned out her instructions. She didn’t want to take a chance, and I couldn’t fault her for it.

As warm water cascaded down my body, I broke, bursting into tears for the first time that day. It wouldn’t be the last. I couldn’t stop it. There was nothing standing in Sonny’s way now. It was a chilling reminder that I was going to be beholden to his whims, just like X had been.

The knowledge that she, too, had once been in my shoes and was subjected to his sick obsession filled me with dread. I wasn’t going to make it. Sonny was the Mask’s only son and his own kind of sick and twisted.

While the father was into torture, the son expected perfection. The type that could never be achieved with the living. I was trapped in darkness. It lurked within the walls like a sickness waiting to ensnare its next victim. Me.

And with that truth, there was no consolation.

Two Days Later