Chapter Eleven
Elizabeth
When school started again, I didn’t even bother trying to talk to Steven. A couple of times, I could tell he was hurt. He’d come up to me at my locker and tried asking me if I wanted to get together. But the curfew was still in effect, and every time I thought of my night spent at the police station, my wrists chafed with pain.
More than anything, I wished Andrea would just go away. I wanted to confide in Steven; I wanted to be close to him. But I couldn’t risk telling him anything. How did I know he wouldn’t spill to Andrea, just like he’d done the first time I’d talked to him about Monica?
It didn’t help that being home made me anxious. Mom was mad at me because I still hadn’t forgiven Aidan, and Dad was distant, wrapped up in some work project that kept him out of the house for long hours. Most of the time when I got home from school, I’d stay in bed until dinner and then stay up late doing my homework. It made me feel rebellious to stand at my window and stare out at the dark streets.
One night in January, I was sitting at my desk, listening to the sound of snow and hail blowing outside. Jaffrey was in the middle of a blizzard – supposedly one of the worst storms in years – and we hadn’t had school in three days. I was going stir-crazy.
Mom knocked on my door. “Hey, sweetie, can I come in?”
I groaned, arming myself for yet another conversation about how I ‘had to’ forgive Aidan.
“Yeah,” I called.
Mom pushed open my door and came in, settling down on my unmade bed. “How are you, sweetie?”
“I’m fine,” I lied. “Just kind of bored with all the snow. I’m caught up on schoolwork,” I added quickly, before Mom could ask.
Mom nodded. “How is Steven?” She raised an eyebrow. “I haven’t seen him around in a while.”
“Oh, yeah, well, you know…” I trailed off, biting my lip. “The curfew and all. Makes it pretty hard to go outside.”
Mom nodded. “Yeah,” she said. “That must be rough on you.”
I shrugged.
“Honey, did something happen between the two of you?”
I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes. Again, I couldn’t imagine admitting anything even close to the truth. This was like one of those dumb, Lifetime movies, minus the D-list actors.
“I don’t know,” I said after a long pause. “His family is kind of strict, you know. They don’t really want him dating.”
Mom laughed. “They’re going to have a hard time with that when he’s at college, I bet,” she said. “Sorry,” she added. “I don’t mean to imply he’s going to forget you.”
‘I almost wish he would,’ I thought. But all I said was, “Yeah.”
My phone buzzed on my desk.
“Steven?” Mom glanced over, trying to see.
“Uh, I don’t know,” I said. “Do you mind?”
Mom nodded and scurried out of my room. She didn’t close the door behind her, and I groaned, getting up and slamming it quickly.
“Hello?”
“Hey.”
“David?” I squinted. “It’s been months.”
“Yeah,” David said darkly. “Sorry about that.”
“Is everything okay? Did something happen to Monica? Oh, my god, what’s–”
David laughed – a rough, raspy sound that turned into a cough. “Everything’s fine, calm down,” he said. “I mean, it’s not fine. But you know, whatever, we’ll get through it.”
I blinked. “Did you guys have a fight?” My stomach churned. ‘Why is he calling me?’ I wondered. ‘Why is he telling me all of this?’
“No, it’s nothing about Monica,” David said. He cleared his throat. “I haven’t been able to visit her in a few months because of this stupid, fucking curfew.”
My heart stopped in my chest. “You have a curfew there, too?”
David laughed humorlessly. “Oh, shit, it’s not just here?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Anyone under eighteen has to be inside, at home, by seven-thirty.” My wrists ached, and I shivered. For a moment, I debated telling David about what had happened that night. But I decided against it. Sharing something so personal probably wasn’t a good idea.
“Anyone under eighteen can’t leave town, except with a parent or guardian,” David said. He clucked his tongue. “It’s fucking insane. They’ve got cops set up at all the roads that lead outside of town. My friend tried a couple of weeks ago, and he was in jail for the whole night.”
I shivered. Against my better judgment, I blurted out, “Yeah, something similar happened to me.”
David fell quiet for a moment.
“I know this is crazy,” I said quickly, “but I think you were right.”
“About what?”
I lowered my voice and stepped away from the door, turning toward the window. “About Monica…and that whole witch thing,” I said quickly. “I know it sounds crazy, but I think there’s something supernatural going on here. And Monica’s in trouble. She disappeared for another month before Christmas.”
There was a long pause.
“David? You still there?”
“She doesn’t tell me anything anymore,” David said. He sounded bitter. “I haven’t really talked to her lately.”
‘Then why are you calling me?’
“Either way, she’s in trouble,” I said quickly. “And we have to help her. I don’t know. I asked her, like, if I could join…you know, like join her…” I trailed off.
“Her coven?” David snorted. “That’s what it’s called.”
I rolled my eyes. ‘Still insufferable,’ I thought. ‘Even if you are being a lot nicer.’
“Yeah,” I said quietly. “She got really mad and told me to stay out of it.”
David sighed. “Monica’s like that,” he said slowly. “She doesn’t want to accept any help from anyone if there’s even a chance she thinks she can do it herself.”
“Something really awful is happening,” I whispered, gripping the phone.
“It’ll probably get worse before it gets better,” David said. He sighed. “That’s usually the way things go.”
I swallowed. “I should probably get off the phone.”
“Okay. Bye, Elizabeth.”
It wasn’t until after we’d hung up that I realized I still had no idea why David had called in the first place. Just as I was texting to ask why, a loud knocking sounded from downstairs.
I shivered. Pressing my ear to my bedroom door, I listened as Mom walked into the foyer.
“Yes?”
“Mrs. Hartsell, is your daughter, Elizabeth, at home?”
Cold panic raced down my spine, and I felt rooted to the spot in fear as I heard the front door close and booming voices ascend from the downstairs foyer. My mom’s words were incoherent, a buzzy whine next to the booming voice of the cops.
“Elizabeth!” Mom yelled. “Can you come down here, please?”
My legs were shaking as I walked down the stairs. Sure enough, two cops were standing there, in full uniform. One of them was holding a pair of handcuffs.
“Elizabeth Hartsell,” one of the cops boomed.
I tried to look calm. “Yes?”
“You’ve been discussing forbidden topics,” one of the men said. “Come with us, please.”
In terror, I grabbed my Mom’s sleeve and tried to cling to her. “Mom, don’t let them take me,” I begged. “You can’t let them arrest me. I didn’t do anything wrong!”
“Ma’am, we’ll need to take your daughter down to the station,” one of the cops said.
My mom turned to me in dismay. “Elizabeth, what are they talking about?”
“I don’t know!” I shouted. “Please, don’t let them take me!”
“We’ve received reports that your daughter has been discussing witchcraft, both in person and telephonically,” the bulkier of the two cops said. “And as you know, as of the decree from last November that is a forbidden topic that carries punishment to the fullest extent of the law.”
“It’s not against the law to talk about witchcraft,” I said quickly. “There’s nothing in the Constitution about it!”
My mom was shaking her head. “Elizabeth, what is going on here?”
“I don’t know,” I begged. “Just please, please, don’t let them take me anywhere!”
“Step aside, ma’am,” one of the cops said to my mom. She moved out of the way slowly, as if in a trance. When the cop grabbed my wrists and forced them behind my back, I started to cry. The feel of cold metal encircling my wrists brought a flash to panic to the front of my mind, and I screamed.
Mom was staring at me like she’d never seen me before as the cops hustled me out of the door and into the cold, snowy night. They dragged me across the front yard and pushed me into the backseat of a police cruiser. I was shivering violently – I was only wearing thin pajamas – but the cops didn’t seem to notice. As they backed out of my parents’ driveway, they started chatting amiably about an annual police barbecue.
“Hey,” I said sharply, “I didn’t do anything wrong! You have to let me go!”
“I’d advise you to keep your mouth shut,” one of the cops snarled.
“I didn’t do anything wrong,” I repeated.
The cop rolled his eyes. “Yeah, whatever,” he said. He turned back around, settling against the seat.
By the time we got to the police station downtown, my chest was so tight with anxiety that I thought I was going to throw up. Just like before, the cops left me in the car for almost an hour while they went inside. By the time they dragged me into the station, I was actually glad to be out of the cold. I was shivering and shaking as one of the cops dragged me down a familiar hallway.
But unlike last time, the room was full of people from all around Jaffrey. I recognized a couple of kids from school, as well as this old guy who used to live across the street from my parents. They were all handcuffed – silent and miserable.
“Is everybody here for the same thing?” I asked when the cop had left us alone. “Witchcraft?”
One of the kids glared at me. “Shut up,” he said. “They don’t like us talking.”
“I don’t like them hauling me downtown when I didn’t do anything wrong,” I cried loudly. “This isn’t fair!”
This time, multiple people glared, even my old neighbor.
“Elizabeth, keep your mouth shut,” he said. “This isn’t about you.”
Tears of frustration welled up in my eyes, and I sank down against the wall. The room smelled of sweat and piss and shit, and soon, no matter how I tried to block it out, the odor was trapped in my sinuses. I felt sick and tired and miserable. The metal cuffs were worse than the plastic ones. This time, the metal cut sharply into my skin, and soon my fingers were slippery with blood. Moaning softly, I closed my eyes and rested my head against the wall.
The cops never came back for me. They came back a few times during the night with kids – probably for violating curfew – but no one talked. No one even whispered.
And just like last time, there was no offer of food, water, or a toilet.
I closed my eyes and thought about David, thought about Monica. In my panic when I’d heard the knock on the door, I’d dropped my phone without sending a text. ‘Stupid,’ I thought. ‘I should’ve texted Monica and told her what was happening. She’s probably not even here. She’s probably in the woods, with her stupid fucking coven.’
I felt bleak and helpless. If someone had been listening to my phone call with David, it had taken practically no time for them to arrive at my front door and arrest me. It was chilling to realize that my hometown had become a police state overnight. And what was with the talk about the decree?
Suddenly, I remembered that night at the church when Andrea had begun railing against witches. I shivered.
Just then, the door swung open. A cop glanced down at his clipboard.
“Elizabeth Hartsell?”
I scrambled to my feet, wincing at the pain in my arms. “Yeah?”
“Come with me.”
My heart was thudding nervously as I followed the cop out to the hall. Just before we turned the corner, he grabbed me by the shoulders and turned me around. I heard the click of metal against metal, and suddenly, my hands were free. They were numb and purple, and I rubbed them until tears came to my eyes.
Monica was waiting in the lobby, looking oddly distant. “Come on,” she said.
Wordlessly, I followed her. It was early morning. Birds were singing, and the sun was making a valiant effort to appear from behind a gray cover of clouds.
Monica handed me a jacket. “It’s probably too big,” she said. “I borrowed it from Brian. I thought my stuff would be too small.”
I pulled it on, wrapping it around myself. It smelled comforting, like wood smoke. Monica turned and started walking away from town, away from my house.
“Where are we going?”
Monica didn’t reply. She set a fast pace, and I had to jog to keep up with her. I felt weak and hungry and tired, but I could feel adrenaline pumping through my veins as Monica walked on. Finally, I realized we were going to her house.
“Monica, I wanna go home,” I said, yawning. “I’m starving and tired.”
“I know.”
“So, I’m gonna go,” I said. “I’ll come over later, okay?”
Monica shook her head. “No,” she said. “Come with me.”
I felt my legs start to move again, and I looked down in horror to see that I was still following her. Fear settled in my chest, and I tried to breathe deeply, but I couldn’t quell the rising sense of panic.
When we were almost to Monica’s house, she turned and led me into the woods. My feet were soaking wet and freezing – I’d left my house for the police station in a pair of slippers – but Monica didn’t slow down. She led me deeper and deeper into the woods.
After about twenty minutes, Monica turned to me.
“Elizabeth?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you still want to join the coven?”
I nodded. My teeth were chattering. “Yes,” I squeaked. “Yes.”
Monica closed her eyes and lifted her arms into the air. Suddenly, everything went black. I screamed as my body started to fall through space, my limbs thrashing and waving.
“Elizabeth…” Someone in the distance was calling my name.
I tried to squint, but I couldn’t see anything other than an inky sea of black. I was slowing down, and soon I was just floating, like I was in the middle of the ocean.
“Elizabeth…Sleep now, Elizabeth.”
It was the last thing I heard before passing out.
THE END