HORROR TALES OF THE SILENT NIGHT

They Danced

They say that the deepest definition of youth is a life that has not yet been touched by tragedy. But I know better. Dashed illusions are every bit as destructive to youth as tragedy.

My childhood ended on a Friday night in October of '89, when I was in sixth grade.

My little sister Shelby and I were lying at opposite ends of our Grandma Bea's couch watching T.V., when our Grandma Bea hollered, "Brownie's are ready, girls!"

Shelby scrambled off the couch so fast she kicked me in the face and then staggered into the coffee table, sending Grandma's Bible flying to the floor.

My hands immediately flew to my nose. "Hey!" I cried. "She kicked me in the face!"

Shelby was already halfway to the kitchen.

"Mama! Shelby kicked me in the face and didn't even say sorry!"

Mama closed her eyes and leaned her head against the back of the recliner. Emerald, Grandma Bea's cat, was balanced on the back of the chair with her head tucked between her paws. "She's little, Jane."

"Well, she also knocked Grandma's Bible on the floor and didn't even pick it up," I huffed. "Ain't that sacrilege?"

Mama sighed. "It's been a long week. Can you please just go get us some brownies?"

"Fine," I huffed, and shuffled toward the kitchen.

The smell of warm chocolate was overpowering, and Grandma Bea was dusting the warm brownies with icing sugar. My mouth watered.

"Mmmm. You make the best brownies, Grandma. I don't know how you do it."

Grandma winked at me, and for the first time all evening, she seemed like herself. "Magic," she declared.

I sighed happily as I carried two brownies back toward the living room but stopped when I found Emerald standing exactly in the middle of the threshold between the dining room and living room.

I stumbled backward but managed to catch myself.

"Move, Emerald," I whispered.

Emerald was a beautiful cat. She had silky black fur, and the most intense green eyes I've ever seen on an animal or human. When Grandma got her as a kitten the previous fall, all my cousins fussed and bickered over her.

Except me. I absolutely adore animals, but I never liked Emerald, not even a little. And for the life of me, I couldn't say why, other than she made my skin prickle and my stomach feel funny.

Emerald stayed put and looked up at me with her piercing, glittery eyes.

I straightened and took a deep breath.

"Move, Emerald," I hissed.

She stayed put and tilted her serpentine head, as if mocking me.

I swiped at her with my right foot just as Mama was coming through to go to the bathroom during the commercial break.

"Jane Caroline! Lord, what is wrong with you?" Mama squatted down to stroke Emerald's head.

"I don't understand your issue with Em," Mama said as she stood back up. "You love animals."

I shrugged. "I guess we just don't get each other," I mumbled.

"Well, you don't have to 'get' her, but I've raised you to know better than to kick at an animal," she said.

I looked down. "Sorry," I mumbled.

Emerald stood, finally, and swished her tail as she rubbed against Mama's leg. I took the opportunity to hurry through and back to my spot on the couch.