Curse Carrier Book 1 Of The Curse Carriers Series

Chapter 2: Sunday Dread

Naomi POV

A blonde haired ten year old girl woke up to a bright sunny Sunday morning to the sound of breakfast cooking and birds chirping outside. And a pit of dread lodged deep in her stomach. The dread wasn't unusual. The day would of been weird if it had started without dread.

She laid in her bed in silence until the sickly sweet smell of eggs drifted into her room. She had heard the bang of pots and pans earlier but now she had to strain to hear the scrape of the spatula. When she heard the toaster pop she opened her frost blue eyes and decided to get up before her father yells at her. She swung her legs over the edge of her bed to the one clean spot in her bedroom. She looks around her bright pink room. The shelves her father had made are covered in toys and junk. Across her room is her lego toy box with half finished projects scattered around it. The floor itself is covered in toys, clothes, books and garbadge.

"I should really clean." She mutters feeling detached. She pats the bed behind her until she finds her raggedy old stuffed rabit. She's had it for most of her life and it shows. It is stained and ripped with age. "What should I wear today Cribby?" She asks hugging it to her chest and rubbing it against her upper lip distractedly. The rattle in its body had broken years ago when it got run over in a grocery store parking lot. One ear flopped in its face but the other was wrapped thickly in cloth and stuck out at an odd angle. The girl recalled she had sucked on it as a toddler and the ear had almost fallen off.

"Well your parents would want you to wear a dress. How about the one with the big green skirt that fluffs out when you spin? You like that one, Nee." Cribby says in a high pitched voice using her nickname for Naomi.

"I do like that one but mommy says it's too small. I need to wear a different one." She says to the rabit and getts up to see what's clean.

In front of her closet she pushes a pile of books to the side. The closet door doesn't latch due to the way the trailer settled. Naomi keeps the books in front of it to keep the monsters in at night. Naomi has long outgrown her screaming in the middle of the night but she has not outgrown her nightmares.

She looks at the harmless dresses in the daylight and shudders as she imagines how they come to life at night. "None of these fit." She says and quickly closes the closet door and puts the books back.

"What about the sparkly purple outfit your father likes?" Cribby suggests.

"That's perfect! That one is always clean." She says happily. She puts Cribby on top of her dresser while she looks for the top and bottom. She finds the sparkly long sleeve top in the back of her shirt drawer and the pencil skirt burried under a pile of pants. "It's kind scratchy and the tights are too big." She says unhappily. She gets dressed and digs a cotton candy pink purse out of a pile.

She tucks the rabbit into the purse so its head can stick out. "You can come with me today." Naomi says putting the purse over her shoulder. She straightens her skirt and goes out for breakfast.

As the morning progresses Naomi gets quieter and quieter. She slows her thinking and just does as she's told. She lets her mother do her hair without complaint and gets in the car when her father tells her to.

Four more hours. She thinks to herself.

In the car Naomi stares out the window numbly as the trees in their fall colors zoom by. Despite going to the same destination thousands of times in her short life she still couldn't remember how to get there.

She hums listlessly to her little sister Candance sleeping in her booster seat beside her. Her sister would often ask her to make up songs to sing to her but she never sang on Sundays.

She fell silent as they reached a weathered white building. On the roof is a stand for a steeple that rotted away years ago. The windows swirl in pastel colors to immitate stained glass. The doors are painted a drab blue and the steps are made of wood. On the side facing the parking lot is a rickety wheel chair ramp no one uses anymore. And there are large twisted maple trees around the edge of the lawn.

She holds her purse tightly as she got out of the car. She looks at the church emotionlessly and goes inside.

Inside there's a mottled red and black carpet with three rows of hard wooden pews. By the stairs is a small group of children Naomi's age. She walks over to them and hovers on the edges as they talk excitedly amongst themselves.

All throughout Sunday school she mechanically follows the motions on auto pilot. She faced the TV while the teacher played an episode of Adventure Odessy. Afterwards she watched the teacher use a white hankerchief to symbolize the soul's relationship with god.

She dumps some black ink on it and says, "This is how we're born. Because of what Adam and Eve did we're all born as sinners." She uses a clear liquid spray and a paper towel to dab at the ink stain. As it begins to fade she explains, "And by praying and getting closer to god your sins will be washed clean."

Children should be born innocent. A violent voice screams in her mind. The only outward sign of her innerself was her nails digging into her clasped together fingers. She focuses and all traces of thought disapear.

During service she sits in the left far back pew. She stares straight ahead unseeing and unhearing. She had slipped earlier because she had let herself hear. She had to cut off any other thoughts before her mask crumbled to dust.

After service the adults mingle to talk about their week and the sermon.

Behind her she hears her sunday school teacher talking to her mother. Her mask cracks some more as her dark self distorts their words.

"I wish all my students would be as well behaved as Naomi. She's a wonderful girl. So good at listening and following directions. So obdient." She says pleased.

"Thank you but she not perfect. No little girl is. Sometimes we worry but it looks like we're raising her well." Her mother brags. "She's the just a doll at church."

"I agree. She's destined for great things and she'll make someone an excellent little wife someday." She replies with a laugh. "However there's one thing that worries me. I've never seen Naomi smile."

They continue to talk while her other self pieces together a hidden message. Be a obdient perfect little doll and smile. The dark voice whispers.