CHAPTER THREE || III || ANALINA

Analina

III.

***

My mind was racing when I pulled out those newspapers. My father was in the living room, throwing dishes around and screaming at his new girlfriend. I turned away from the door in disgust. I was eighteen already and still living with this man, the man who raped and beat me daily. Mama was dead, and she was the only one who believed me, and when she left, my happiness and freedom went with her. That's why I made my decision to leave. I had to escape and the only option was to run away somewhere far, with no one or nothing to connect back to my abusive father. I focused on the papers and circled any details I needed; numbers, addresses, and names. His girlfriend was collecting her things and calling him a psycho so soon enough he'll come busting into my room, smelling like a liquor store, and ready to torture me. The front door slammed closed and I no longer heard a feminine voice. Shit. That quickly this time? You’re losing it, old man. I leaned in closer to listen, folding up the newspaper, the television was shut off and it was completely silent. Suddenly, the stairs groaned alarmingly fast under his weight. I tucked my phone in my bra and shoved the newspapers under my mattress then dove into the bed. I wanted to melt into my comforter. I embraced the thick fabric, praying he'd just walk past the door and pass out in his room. Unsurprisingly, he didn't go to his room. He came in that night and showed me exactly why I needed to leave.

After what felt like hours of pain and pressure, he finally stumbled out and into his bedroom, with his pants still unbuckled. I stayed on the floor sobbing silently. After hearing his room door shut, I gathered myself and stood. I packed my backpack with the necessities to sneak out in the middle of the night. My plan — find the city that was in those newspapers. I slid the newspapers from between the mattress and the box spring. I picked up my father’s wallet from the floor, which I’d stolen while he stole my innocence, then grabbed Mama's necklace from my nightstand. I shoved it into the little pocket of my backpack along with my cell phone. I pulled my hoodie over my head and whirled around to open my window then I zipped up my backpack and slung it over my shoulder. I slipped out of my window quietly, and my feet hit the grass, I ran as fast as I could. My knees felt numb but I couldn't stop. I never looked back. I never saw him again. I hitchhiked for days. The road was dark, and there were no street lamps or cars because everyone was tucked into their beds and sound asleep. The cool winter breeze across my sweaty skin was almost enough to make me break down and cry. I felt liberated by the sound of the wind in the night sky. This was it; I had an open road ahead of me and a new life about to start. This was for you Mama. I followed the path of the long road and saw a dawn of unfamiliar stars. I was in an entirely new place; one that didn't feel threatening, but inviting. I saw smoke and heard faint noises coming from a busy port. Remarkably, I had stumbled upon Saklas Islands sooner than I’d thought. It wasn't a place of inactivity, and there were jobs that kept every person and their ideas busy. To me, it was a safe haven for anyone who was looking for a new life. The first few months after moving into my new apartment were a blur, nothing made sense, to say the least. I was manic out of my mind, working tirelessly to keep my bills paid. Out of stress, I inherited my father's alcoholism but if I was honest, it didn’t bother me. Every weekend after work, I'd head over to Patchy’s and get absolutely sloshed with a few coworkers, and before I knew it, I was at Blue Ocean sniffing a line. It was fun but it was dangerous, I'll admit. I never knew what my father's reaction was when I left, nor did I ever look back.

After a while, I started to believe I might have a chance to start over here. I shook the hands of people who were twice as kind as even my Mama had been. I’d discovered a little oasis in a city where I could find the things I lost or never knew I had. My feet ached but I was still running for my freedom. I found a place I could call my own. I was trying to gain a social life, but I never talked. When I first moved in, rumors had been going around about a cult that lived in Venice City. I had a feeling that there was more to this place than meets the eye but I didn't realize how many deep secrets and emotions could be hidden on an island. People were saying that the cult was connected to all the murders. Hell, it got so bad they had to make a local news report saying that it wasn’t true.

***

The string of murders shook Venice City to its core and the crowds got smaller. More fun for me, I say. I waltzed down Beech Drive. The tall streetlamps lined up perfectly on each side of the road and stretched far into the horizon. I scanned my surroundings, I was trying to learn Venice City through scenery alone, Mama always told me to know my hometown like the back of my hand. I needed to listen to that more than ever now especially considering the way things are looking. Plus, it wasn't like I owned a car or even knew how to drive. I rummaged through my purse to pull out a cigarette, then slid it between my teeth. I went through my pockets for a moment, "Fuck," I mumbled. I looked back down the street, keeping the cigarette in between two fingers and down at my side. No lighter, of course. There was a crowd stretching towards the end of the block, standing in front of a tall building with small windows and muffled house music emanating from inside. The blue lights were easy to spot from here. I put a pep in my step, half relieved I was dressed well enough to join whatever event was starting in this fancy-looking building. I approached two men that were standing away from the filing crowd, both smoking, a good sign that they had a lighter. "Got a light?" I quipped with a sweet smile, both men turned their attention toward me. One had orange hair and sly eyes, and the other had a shaved head and wore a proud grin.

The proud man raised a brow and spread his lips to speak, his deep tone bellowing through the muffled music across the street. "August's got the light," he said and turned his attention to 'August' who was already sifting through his slacks for his lighter. I reach a pampered hand out, assumingly guessing that August will hand it to me, but instead, he chucks it into the air. I dodge the incoming hunk of metal and gasp, letting it clatter to the asphalt. Both of their eyebrows raise and they exchange an ambiguous look. The darker male spoke again, this time his voice firm. "You pro'ly done broke the man's lighter, dodgin' it like that."

I scooped the Zippo lighter from the pavement and lit my cigarette, thank God, it’s working. "Not broken," I said before handing it back and shooting the man daggers. If looks could kill, the South Beach Psycho didn't have shit on me. "It's perfectly fine."

August took the lighter and shoved it back into his pocket with a worried look. "It’s cool, KT." KT huffed lightly and cleared his throat with an intimidating stare. I took a long drag and clenched my teeth, matching his firm gaze. "You’re hostile, for like, nothing," I looked at August, "Thank you by the way," I muttered and shuffled away from the pair. KT looked like he might pounce and I wasn't naive enough to think he wouldn't.

***

My cheeks were soaked with tears and my breath hitched between my teeth as I pawed at the side of Mama’s bed. She was wheezing and her face was pale, tufts of brown hair coming from the crown of her head. She was beautiful, even with bedhead and a sick complexion. She hacked a cough from her bony chest and raised a skinny, shaking hand to hold mine. “My dear Lina, don’t cry..” she wheezed through her words, almost as if it hurt with each pause. My eyes were fixed on hers, she was a dying light that shined promisingly at me. I sniffled and took her hand into mine gently, afraid I’d snap her fragile fingers. Mama was sick for a few months now but this was the worst I’d ever seen. She hadn’t eaten in days or could keep it down, more like, and Daddy explained that the strong cells in her body were losing the fight and it was hurting her. I didn’t understand why her cells stopped fighting when she wouldn’t.

“I can’t help it, Mama... I don’t wanna do anything but help you get better.” I whined through sobs, I squeezed her hand.

She shook her head and rubbed a shaking thumb across my knuckles. "I have no white blood cells, Lina..," she paused for a moment, catching her breath or her thoughts; I couldn't figure out which one, then she continued, "That means since I'm sick and I can't get better."

My bottom lip trembled and my vision started to blur with tears as I cried, “So what..?! You’re gonna just die?!” Mama pulled me into her embrace and stroked my hair gently.

“I need you to be strong for me, Analina.” Her voice had turned firm and I bit down another sob. I knew why I needed to be strong and so did she. I had to be strong to get away from Daddy. “Analina, you won’t ever need to miss me… you know that. I’ll be here for as long as God will let me, and He knows, I will fight before I leave you.” She kissed the top of my head quickly and let me go, placing a still-shaking hand to cup my face.

“Analina!” Daddy shouted. Mama snatched her hand from my face and slumped back against the headrest, her eyes diverting to her lap as he came in. “I need you out here.” He said firmly, his hand still on the doorknob.

“But Daddy, I’m still not done talking with Mama..” I stammered, the bubble of anger and hurt and despair growing in my chest.

“Now.” He growled and jerked his thumb outwards into the hall with him. I stood, my hand still clasping hers, and he rushed forward, silent as a snake, to break the grip.“This is your fault!” He barked, shoving a chunky pointer finger into my nose.

“Nathanial! Don’t you fucking touch my daughter!” My mother screamed as she forced her frigid body to pounce onto Daddy’s back. He swung his elbow backward and smashed it into the bridge of her nose, sending her flying onto the bed almost immediately then yanked me by my hair out of the room. I collapsed to the floor as he tossed me out, the door shutting painfully loudly behind me. I could hear Mama slapping at the wood and jiggling the knob but she never came out that night.

“I told you to stop being sneaky, Analina,” Daddy grumbled as he walked past me and into the living room. “Now do the damn dishes. Dinner needs to be made.”

***

A cop car began to pull into the space near the corner ahead and a woman emerged, walking towards the men. The nightclub doors finally opened and the line began to usher into the club. I eyed the group of men standing at the front doors, they were handing out little cards. I stuffed both hands into my coat pockets. One of them, a tall, handsome man reeking of money, had been eyeing me from afar since I approached the middle of the line. He gave a tight smile, subtly gesturing for me to come closer. The weird man handed me a piece of paper with a small but deep smile. On it was a logo, a snake with a lion’s head, and what seemed to be words printed below it. “Join us, Analina,” he said in a thick accent, swaying his arm towards the entrance of the club. “ There is a different kind of life waiting for you.” A ripple of doubt coursed through my body and my heart danced around in my chest like a caged bird. I had left one life already and been running since, surely I didn’t need any more nonsense. But after a few seconds, I simply nodded and took the card, and walked into the club.