18.98: An ONC 2023 Thriller

Chapter 20

THE PAST

By the time Liv turned thirteen, she'd expected her mother's bad choices to be the ruin of her entire family. Her mom disappeared, sometimes for hours, sometimes for days, leaving her to care for her little sister. That's what she was doing now—caring for Penelope by wedging her into a cobwebbed laden crawl space behind boxes of Christmas decorations in her stepfather's attic. Tucked inside, Penelope whimpered. The area was cramped and musty. A sticky heat prickled both the girls' skin.

"It's only for a little while," Liv said, trying to quiet Pen so she could hear whether her stepfather was coming up the stairs or not. "Just until mom gets back."

"When will that be?" Penelope wiped her nose on her shirt sleeve.

"Soon." Liv had no idea if that was the truth or not. "I promise."

She began to slide shut the door, but her sister grabbed her wrist. "Stay with me!"

"There isn't room," Liv told her. "Besides, I can distract him. You'll be safe. I won't let anything bad happen to you."

She closed her sister in and pushed a box of ornaments in front of the door, then turned to face her nightmare.

Climbing down the attic staircase, she could hear him rummaging in her mother's dresser, opening and closing drawers, tossing contents onto the floor. Liv's mom had been off somewhere for two days, and the longer she was gone, the greater her stepfather's fury became. She stepped on tippytoes trying to cross the hallway and make it to the stairs leading down to the living room, hoping to get as far away from where Penelope was before he found her. But the old floorboards gave her away, groaning even under her gentle step.

"Liv?" His voice was a rabid dog's growl. "I swear to God, if you know where your ma went and you're not telling me."

She hit the staircase just as his face appeared in the doorway of the bedroom he shared with her mother.

"Come back here!" He yelled.

He was louder, but Liv was faster. If she wanted to, she could fly out the door, run and run and run and never look back. But Penelope was in the attic hiding. Penelope refused to leave, refused to run—not when all they had to do was wait for their mother to return. And that would be soon, right Liv? You promised, Liv.

Liv made it to the kitchen door and there she stopped. Two inches of wood away from freedom. She turned, pressed her back against the door and shut her eyes, willing some kind of magical force to come and take her away, somewhere, anywhere where he couldn't reach her. It didn't even have to be a nice place, just a place without his groping hands clawing at her.

This is how we are.

Liv opened her eyes at the mysterious voice. It sounded echoey, like when Penelope would take the cardboard tube from a roll of paper towels and speak to her through it. She had just enough time to spot what seemed like, but couldn't possibly be, a small cloud gathering near the stove before her stepfather arrived. Her last image was of him standing in front of her, fist raised. The memory of the events that followed were poured into a bottomless chasm, never to be retrieved.

Forget, forget, forget.

THE PRESENT

Liv couldn't remember when she was this happy before. The air, scented with roses, the sky, clear with the occasional puffy cloud. The company—that was the best part of all! Penelope was here, and Liv was not too proud to say that she'd been wrong: Penelope existed in this place—this lovely, sunny place. Penelope hadn't existed in the twisted version she'd believed the ghost realm to be when Liv was such a terrible, miserable person. Penelope was dead, but here, she was alive, whole.