The Cursed One: Freedom: The Cursed One

Chapter One

I know I shouldn’t cut across the woods.

But it always seemed like the easiest way to get from Point A to Point B. The daycare center sat on the corner of Hurley and Main and going with the major strip meant a journey of nearly two miles, and I was without a car. My dad had offered to come by and collect me as he liked to call it but he was working late. And I had no desire to wait all on my lonesome for the moment when he would choose to arrive. Not that I didn’t know he would come; my old man’s word was true in its own strange way. But a slight detour behind the playground and past the tiny turtle-shaped sandbox would mean the shelter of the trees and a way to see my porch before my father even got off his shift. So it seemed like a good idea at the time and maybe even for a little bit longer than that.

The official start of autumn was still two weeks off but for the first night in as long as I could remember, I was bathed in the chill crawling across the air. The leaves hanging over my head moved back and forth with the wave of a gentle breeze, and I pulled the sleeves of my thin sweater down over my hands and adjusted my backpack. The wind still felt good against my cheeks, and my head started to clear after a long day spent chasing after toddlers, cleaning up their spilled milk and dealing with the occasional bump or bruise. Truth be told, the little monsters were all kinds of cute. Even when they were raising Cain. I liked playing pretend with them, making like I was a fairy princess or a mythical bear. I found myself reminded of hours spent with my dolls, hearing them speak, sometimes thinking that I saw them move as I hosted tea parties. Or sometimes I planned to unite Ken and Barbie in the space of the perfect wedding, the familiar strains of the marriage march burning in my ears.

I had had all kinds of trouble getting this job and even now, when I had proved my worth, my boss still wouldn’t let me have the little ones on my own. I had to be supervised at all times. She said it was to pacify the parents but I couldn’t see what she meant. Still, at least I had a job and I loved looking after the little ones every day. As fun as all that was, it had nothing on sleep.

Not one person, living or dead, could ever deny the pleasures of a perfect lie-in and the feel of curling under and around warm rumpled sheets. But for me, it was something more. I felt more at home on the plane of a dreamscape than I ever felt in the confines of my own skin. And when the little ones napped, I let my eyes fall shut and imagined them munching on bags of Halloween candy just on the horizon... Or running to and from beasts with too many eyes in their heads... Was it better to be brave or cautious, I wondered? I was of both minds as I found myself playing along, and when naptime was over, I saw the children clearer. Those that were cautious were bound to always want for another juice box, a freshly sharpened crayon, anything to get back to normal. But then there were those that were fearless and viewed the same objects with almost dismissive eyes because they knew what it was to see something more and look ahead - even at only two years old. I remembered how it felt to be that age, the sound of my mother’s voice assuring me that bad dreams and nightmares were something that I would soon outgrow.

And here I was just shy of twenty-one but the dreams and the bad feelings had yet to come to a halt.

Walking faster, I felt the breeze pick up, and a few droplets of rain started to settle on my dark brown ponytail. Wishing that I had opted for a hoodie instead of the cardigan set, I picked up my pace as the woods seemed to grow larger against my back. I hated the rain; too often I had dreams of getting lost in a storm and finding no way out. Rain would swirl around my ankles and turn the ground to mud. I pictured myself sinking into the bowels of the earth, clawing furiously at the moistened dirt as I tried to scream for help without any sound.

I hurried on, my head down against the rain and as I did I took one wrong step over a stone and tripped into a hole which was starting to form in the ground. I tried to scream but couldn’t find my voice as the dream became all too real, and my fingers struggled to catch onto the edge of a hanging branch. The twigs and the leaves broke off in my sweating hands, and I kicked myself for not waiting for my father as my mind focused on a long forgotten dream.

If you give into it, just turn with the fall, everything might still work itself out. Don’t fight so hard. Relax, Amanda.

The words racing across my mind were slow to mesh with my flailing limbs. But somehow I caught hold of a branch and pulled myself away from the breach. With one giant leap, I fell headlong into a puddle, and the drizzle turned into a downpour. Wiping the worst of the mud from my face with the back of my hand, I crawled through the damp grass and took cover in the mouth of a small cave. This was the sort of place where my family liked to picnic and pretend that everything was alright. I imagined my mother smiling softly as she brushed the tips of her fingers over the blades of grass. They shimmered under her touch, and as I thought I could see them snapping off into an array of uncut emeralds, she would draw her hand back and simply pat my cheek.

What is going on in that head of yours, Amanda?

And when I told her what I thought... no, what I knew that I saw, my mother liked to toss her head back with a laugh.

Such a silly little girl! Always so fanciful.

I remembered saying, insisting, that it was more than a dream, but my father brought my questions to a halt as he pulled out another sandwich and said, in a grumbling tone, that I needed some more meat on my bones.

You should have stopped while you were ahead, Dad.

Speaking my thoughts aloud, I let my fingers drift towards my waistline. It was the only part of me that felt small, that was relatively small. My hips curved out from under my skirt, and my breasts heaved as I struggled to catch my breath. Not that I minded the meat, but I’d heard my father whisper to my mother that aside from everything else I had no hope of landing a husband if I didn’t get with some kind of a weight loss program.

There are other ways, Kevin.

I remembered pressing my ear to the edge of the cracked door, wide awake as I waited for my mother to unlock the mystery. What were the other ways?

And why did a part of me already know what she meant?

Not what we agreed upon, Maria. You know that much and then some.

And then their conversation would always drop, and I would be left hanging. It was always hard to sleep on those nights. But when the dreams finally came, I saw myself walking on air, savoring the sensation of feeling weightless. Heads would turn as I stepped above the ground, and I could see a broad back with a mane of blonde hair resting just above a taut neck. All the