Season of the Witch

Chapter 2: Boy Parts

Melanie whimpered as he ran his hands up her legs. Frightened tears stained her young cheeks. She pulled frantically against the restraints on her wrists, but she couldn't break free. "Please... please, don't..." she begged. But he wasn't listening anymore. After spending two years grooming her to his liking, the man that she thought had accepted her as his own daughter had finally shown his true character. He told her how beautiful she was, how soft her skin was, how much he loved her. But no amount of 'love' in the world could make him stop. The pain she felt as he violated her was excruciating. Not just physically, but mentally. She had trusted him. Even though she knew there was something odd about him, she had trusted him. Because he was the first adult to take an active interest in her. In place of the abuse or neglect that she had known before, he gave her love and attention. He was the first 'parent' she ever had that wanted to officially adopt her. He had treated her like a princess. That's what he called her as he stole her innocence and betrayed her. His princess. She screamed and cried and begged with all her might, but he never stopped. Not until he was satisfied.

She awoke with a gasp, covered in sweat and clutching her sheets like a lifeline. The nightmare must have been triggered by what happened to Madison last night. It was like having an old wound ripped open again. The pain. The shame. The humiliation. They felt just as fresh as the night it happened. She had wanted to die. Anything to escape from him. When it was finally over, he untied her wrists and stroked her hair. He had the nerve to be upset when she flinched away from his touch. "The first time always hurts," he had said, "but don't worry, you'll get used to it. I'll try to be more gentle next time." Next time. She nearly threw up when she heard those words. He intended to do it again. And again. She wouldn't let him. She glared at his back with intense hatred as he turned to get dressed. She wished that he could feel her pain. She wanted him dead. Her wish was granted. In an instant, her current foster father, Steven Pritchard, burst into flames. He was so startled that he panicked and ran screaming through the house instead of stopping to try to put himself out. The house started to burn, too. Melanie watched the flames spread across the walls of her room as she lay on the bed. Part of her thought it would be better if she died right there and then. But Melanie had never been a quitter. She had spent too long doing her best to survive to stop now. She forced herself up from the bed and broke the locked window with a chair so she could climb out and escape from the house before the fire finished spreading through her room. Then she sat on the lawn and watched it burn. One of the neighbors must have called the police, because the firefighters hadn't taken very long to show up. Steven always had been popular. No one knew what a monster he truly was. They took her to the hospital, where the police came later to confront her. There had been a hidden camera in her room, probably so Steven could watch her while she was dressing. But the cops didn't seem to be interested in that. Some of the footage had survived the fire, the part that showed him spontaneously combusting. The older of the two men seemed more concerned with this than the fact that she had just been raped. The way he talked about the traumatizing experience as if it were nothing—as if it were somehow her fault—Melanie might have set him on fire, too, if the Council hadn't arrived to sweep her off to Robichaux's. This place had really saved her. The pain that man left with her would probably never go away completely. But at least now she had the tools she needed to be able to live with it. Myrtle Snow, the witch who had come to take her away, was like her fairy godmother. She became her legal guardian and gave her a new last name so she wouldn't have to stay a Pritchard. And Cordelia was the closest thing to a real mother that she had ever known.

Speaking of Cordelia, Melanie knew she should probably come clean to her about the previous night's events. They needed to be prepared for the worst. She turned to look at her alarm clock to see what time it was, only to discover that it had been unplugged and thrown across the room. She must have slept through it. Queenie always said she'd throw it against the wall one of these days. Melanie shrugged it off and got dressed for the day, pulling on a t-shirt that said "fries before guys" in red letters, jean shorts, and a pair of red Toms.