Prologue Sneak Peek

PROLOGUE

PROLOGUE

March 1881

What have I done? Dear Lord, what have I done?

With pen in hand, she rubs her forearms through the cotton nightdress for warmth. She huddles at the kitchen table as the nib scratches over the parchment.

I don't know where to start. Tonight started out like any other night. My husband was his normal, loving self...

Her hands tremble, the letters shaky beneath her fingertips. She watches herself write out the entire story from beginning to end, the truth that's been hidden for so long. She glances up, startled by the sound of a harsh scream. Feeling sweat on her brow, she looks around, wondering if anyone has seen. But it is only the sound of a mockingbird's cry. She settles her eyes again on the parchment before her. Tonight everything must be told.

This life started when my father died. The nib squeaks. We were penniless and ordered by the bank to leave our farm. But when Edward, the new sharecropper, arrived, he couldn't take his eyes off me...

She shivers. It is not the words she is preparing to write that make her tremble, but the revelation of the horrors of her past. The legacy that has led her to this moment—"The Commission", begs her to unveil what has chained her and her family to the darkness. Biting her lip, an ecstasy of relief washes over her.

The first couple of months after our marriage, he was so gentle and loving. I couldn't have been happier. But for some inexplicable reason, He changed. Gone was the gentle love and in its place, an aggression so rough, it caused severe discomfort to my private parts. I wanted to satisfy my husband, and so I said nothing.

By the fifth month of our marriage, I was pregnant. Even that didn't stop him. During my pregnancies, he took great pleasure in sodomizing me. Every time my breast filled with milk, he'd nibble and suck my nips raw. He once nibbled them to the point of mutilation, which made suckling hard for my babies and sheer torture for me. As the years passed, he came up with more and more clever ways to arouse himself; scarring me in places no one else could see.

As she writes, her nervousness is replaced with anger, exhilaration and defiance. The words flow. She relives each gory detail without shuddering and blanching as she might have before. Her ancestors have asked this Commission of her and so will her children; once they discover what she has done.

But I still said nothing because who would believe me? He'd always been sweet and kind to all of my family. It was as if his nocturnal debauchery belonged to someone else.

The details and events unfurl from the nib for over twenty minutes. Finally concluding with the moment from three days ago when the true nature of her reality became crystal clear. Her writing slows, becoming more sober and plodding, yet resolved and baring all.

Three days ago, I caught him watching my child in a way no father should ever look at his daughter. I tried to overlook it and convince myself that I was wrong. But, last night was the final straw; at the peak of finishing his business, he screamed out her name.

The memory of that moment sends an unwilled shudder through her body but she knows she has to finish writing.

I thought I understood what horror was, but nothing can describe what that sound created inside of me. I knew then I had to put a stop to him and his filthy malevolence.

And tonight, I've done it...

A few moments later, just as she finishes the last detail of her crime, the door behind her flies open and a frantic voice shouts. Resolved, she stands but does not turn to acknowledge the ranting. Instead she bends and signs her name with a determined flourish.

Resigned, she turns with a final nod, to confront her fate.