secret room

    I always felt my mother was the only one who really understood me. Like me, she was special: beautiful, and powerful. As a child, I remember the looks I would see men give her when we walked through town. They were ready to fall at her feet, if she threw them even the slightest glance.
    Mother channeled her power into spells and concoctions to attain anything and everything her heart desired. She taught me her ways, and we would laugh together locked in her secret room. No one knew the secret magic we practiced.
    When I turned 13, my first love stirred the greatest desire I had ever known. There was a boy who shined with this wild exuberance that enticed me. He was rarely at school because he was always falling ill in one way or another, and this distance kept me from being able to dazzle him with my beauty, or slip him a secret potion. Making this boy love me became my absolute infatuation, and I craved to use my powers to draw him into my web.
    One afternoon, I came home and tugged my mother’s arm as I lead her down the dark hallway into the secret room that she hardly visited anymore. I told her about this boy. I told her I wanted to heal him and needed her help. She looked at me with this oddly puzzled look on her face and slowly began to shake her head back and forth.
    "MOTHER!" I yelled. "For the first time in my whole life I need you. I need you to be there for me, to help me, to use all the tools you have shown me to make MY dreams come true! So many times, I have followed along and assisted YOU in YOUR magic spells, and now it is my turn!"
    As I threw my tantrum, I could see her soften and just about ready to give in. Just then, I snuggled in close to her and cried a few small tears.
    "Oh Anastasia," she said softly looking deeply into my eyes. "I have seen a great darkness in the magic. I just know I have to stop."
    She paused looking down at the ground before she continued. "I had a dream.  An women, in a long white gown, I don't know, maybe an angel.  Anastasia, she told me that I am abusing my powers. She told me there will be consequences."
    I looked at her face after sensing the shakiness in her voice. Mother looked more fearful and frail than I had ever seen her.
    I shuddered but quickly refocused onto my task. "Mother, I will never again ask you to do this. Please. Just this one time."
    After a long pause, Mother finally said, "alright Anastasia."
    "Oh thank you Mother, thank you so much," I said as I planted a string of kisses on her cheeks.
    Her face had changed to a lighter smile. "Do you have anything I can use to connect to him?"
    "Ah . . . I have a some paper with his writing on it." I ran to get my school bag and found a note he passed me.
    I gave her the paper, and she breathed long and hard. She closed her eyes as she held the paper. As she sat there concentrating, she began to shake. I started to get a little worried, until finally she opened her eyes.
    "No doctor will ever be able to cure him. Anastasia, he is destined to die very young."
    Her forlorn expression made me crazy. I was too young to be helpless, and too full of my own power to feel hopeless.
    "There has to be something that we can do. Help me find a way to heal him," I demanded.
    "There is no way." She wouldn’t look at me, so I knew she was lying.
    "What must I do, Mother? I’ll do anything."
    "Oh Anastasia Dear, please let this go. Please."
    "No Mother, we have to do this. For him. For me. For us. We have to do this. What do you need me to do?" I spoke as sternly as if I was a parent scolding my child.
    "Oh Anastasia, fine. Damn it! Fine, bring him to the house, but let me be absolutely clear that this is the very last time that I will ever use magic. . . the very last time."
    About a month later, the opportunity came to get Ranee to our house. It was a spring day, and while we were outside for a break, I slowly walked up to him and flashed the most provocative smile I could muster. I caught his attention and inched closer and closer. I allowed myself to come just close enough to rub my breasts lightly against him, and then I slowly moved away, as though I didn’t notice I had touched him. I turned away and waited for him to respond.
    Of course, he did.
    "We should sneak into the woods behind the school," he whispered in my ear.
    I looked around to realize that no one was looking at us. "My house is much better and just up the road," I replied.
    He looked incredibly stunned at my forward invitation, but too foolhardy to decline. We quickly ran down the road before anyone noticed.
    We came into the empty kitchen to find a kettle whistling. I turned it off, poured my mother’s tea, and headed back for her bedroom. Ranee looked so uncomfortable. I lifted my index finger to my lips and then pointed to a kitchen chair, as I headed down the dark hallway.
    Mother was sound asleep when I entered her room. I shook her violently, and in a loud whisper said, "he’s here. Momma, he’s here. Wake up.”
    She could barely open her eyes, but finally she knew she had no choice. "Oh Anastasia, please let me rest. I feel so tired and weak. I can’t do this now. I can’t. You’ll have to leave, and we can do this another time."
    "No Mother! You don’t even realize how difficult it was to get him here, and now he is here. We have to do it now. I’ll do it, you just tell me what to do. Now, Mother. Now!"
    She looked so angry at me, but at the same time, I knew she didn’t have the energy for her anger. She reluctantly lifted her thin frame from the bed and stood weakly in front of me.
    "Why aren’t you at school? What are you doing here?"
    "You said he needed to be here, and I got him here. That is all there is to it. Meet us in the secret room."
    I abruptly left and knew that she would be there. I went back in the kitchen and took Ranee’s hand. I raised him from his seat, and in the kitchen, we shared our first kiss. I held his face in my hands, and I could feel his heart beating so fast against my chest. His strong right hand rested on the small of my back and pulled me in closer. With his left hand, he gently touched my shoulder, and I felt such strong passionate feelings for him in that moment. I knew this was love, and I would do whatever I must to have it.
    The heat started to rise, and then I told him that my mother wanted to see him. I wanted her to meet him and approve, before we could be together. I told him how badly I wanted us to be together, and I gave him that sly and seductive look that most 13 year olds wouldn’t have pulled off.
    He was completely helpless to my wishes at this point, and like an obedient puppy, he followed me to the secret room. Mother had lit a number of candles. She looked tired, angry, and even ugly. I felt a slight shame come over me as she commanded Ranee to get on her table. He looked at me, completely confused, and I nodded my head and asked him to do it.
    I whispered to him to close his eyes, and I said that everything would be just fine. I told him not to worry; he could trust us.
    Mother told me to stand down by his feet, and she stood by his head. She began to move her hands over top of his body. For several minutes, Mother moved all around floating her hands above his body, scanning the surface. Then, she pulled me into the corner and told me that she was going to perform the healing with my help. I was to stand behind her, put my hands on her waist and feed her energy. She was going to channel both our energies through her hands and into his body to heal him.
    "Whatever you do, Anastasia, you cannot let go."
    She approached the table, and I nervously grabbed her waist. She put her hands on him, and he began to speak. He started asking what she was doing, and he said he wanted her to stop. I told him it was ok, and it would make him better.
    "Just lie down, Ranee."
    "Stop! I am fine. I don’t want you to do this to me."
    He began to try and get up, but Mother pushed him firmly back onto the table. She kept going, and finally, he stopped fighting.
    After fifteen minutes or so, I began to feel too weak to even keep standing up. I needed to sit down, or get a drink, or lay down. I whispered to Mother that I needed to rest, but she didn’t hear me. She was so entranced in what she was doing, so I kept holding on.
    Until that piercing scream roughed me from my unconsciousness. The sound of Ranee’s scream startled me into action, and I stood to find Mother laying on top of him.  I used all my might to lift her off him, and he jumped off the table and ran out the door. I heard the door slam, and his distant curses as he ran from our house.
    Mother fell limply back onto the table, and I couldn’t get her to wake up. I was able to swing her legs up onto the table so she could lie down, and when I had her flat on her back, I kept whispering in her ear and gently shaking her, "Momma, wake-up, please Momma, wake-up."
    She was still warm, but there was something so eerie and lifeless about her body. I started to panic and wonder what I was going to do, when she finally opened her eyes.
    She looked at me with a cold glance and said, "Anastasia, I shouldn’t have done this. . . I gave him all the good energy I had left. I love you so much that I would do anything for you, but now . . ." Her eyelids fell heavily shut.
    Panic. . . Tears . . . Fear. . .Hysteria . . . and finally sleep.

***

    "Anastasia. Anastasia, what is going on here?!" I was being shaken, but I didn’t want to open my eyes.  I didn’t want to return to my nightmare and have to explain or accept. The shaking became more violent, and finally, I knew that it was Auntie.
    I opened my eyes only partially, and I looked at her tear stained face. I was on the floor of the secret room, and through the small parted space of my eyelids, I could see that my mother was no longer on the table. I pulled Auntie close to me and just cried. I just cried and cried and cried. I was too afraid to speak, so tears filled the space I could not fill with words.
    I never explained or answered a single question. I just got very upset whenever anyone asked me what had happened. They assumed I had suffered such a trauma that even I did not remember what had happened, but I did know. I also knew the only other person in the world who knew what had happened that day.
    It was about a month before I returned to school, and the first day back, there he was. He looked healthier than ever. Full of his own strength and bravado, he had a confidence that bordered arrogance, and he looked at me in a way that made me wince. The dynamics of power had clearly shifted between us. It was still morning when he pulled me into a shadow of the school to talk with me, privately.
    "I don’t know what you two witches did to me, but it worked. Huh? Can’t you tell? I feel fantastic, better than I’ve ever felt in my life. Now, I’m not thanking you because you had no right to do what you did. It was sick; it was weird; and no one has ever scared the crap out of me like you did that day. I’m not thanking you, but I will tell you that I did not tell anyone.
    "I heard that your mother died, and I’m sorry about that. I didn’t want you to get locked away like a crazy witch, now that you’re an orphan, so I won’t tell. . . Unless you give me reason to tell."
    In the dark, I could see glints of light shining off his teeth grinning an evil smirk. I was utterly speechless, but I must admit my discomfort mixed with relief that I could appease him to keep my secret. To me, no one ever knowing what happened was of the utmost importance.

    As Ranee became a bigger and bigger part of my life, Auntie started asking questions.  I just kept putting them off until she started teasing me about my little boyfriend.  It felt somewhat less dirty, less shameful to think of him as my boyfriend. Maybe I could just happily go along with this, and everything would be fine.
    Our relationship began to evolve into a truce. There was a good deal of laughing when we were together, and when he pressured me to do things to him that I did not feel completely comfortable with, but I did them and did not complain. I wouldn’t say that it was something I liked doing, but I could handle it. I felt more like I was working off a debt, than like a victim.
    One afternoon, we were lying on some grass near his house, when a few of his friends showed up, saying all sorts of rude things to me.  
    "Hey guys, get the hell out of here. This is my girlfriend, and you are not going to talk to her that way. Get the hell out of here before I kick someone’s ass!" Ranee had a look of rage on his face as he shouted at them that I never expected.  In that moment, he transformed before my eyes from my warden to my protector.
    As the boys ran off, I looked into his eyes and said, "thank you for standing up for me." Then I stammered, "Do you really think of me as your girlfriend?"
    "I didn’t. But lately, I can’t stop thinking about you, Ana. Even the way you helped heal me. I owe you so much. I love being with you. I love the way you look, the way you feel. Ana, I love you. I don’t know how this happened, but I am just glad we are together."
    He hugged me tightly, and I was glad he couldn’t see my face. Although I felt like his words should have made me happy, they made me scared. I felt a creeping panic in my chest realizing that the ransom stakes had now shifted from my body to my heart.
    I just held him tightly unsure about what else to do. Tears started to well up in my eyes, and he pulled back.
    "Oh Ana, you don’t have to say a word. I know," he said as he pulled me closer again.

***

    Ranee and I dated very seriously all through high school. I suppose we had a fairly normal relationship to the outside, but I always had this strange feeling of having no way out.  This secret did not make me love him, but his love for me made me feel safe and secure.  It eased the guilt I felt inside and made me feel lovable despite what I had done.  It made me feel that my secret was guarded by the walls of his strong love for me.
    After our high school graduation, Ranee and I went to a friend’s party, and he introduced me to his childhood best friend: "Ana, this is my good buddy, Glenn," Ranee said as he slapped Glenn on the back and gave him a huge smile.
    I reached out my hand and shyly said, "it’s nice to meet you."
    When I made eye contact with Glenn, my heart began to beat faster.  I could barely hold eye contact, and I could feel the perspiration begin to build in my palms.
    "It’s my pleasure to meet you Ana," he said with the kindest smile, looking so intent and interested in me.
    Quickly, Ranee escorted Glenn outside to talk with some other friends. As they reached the door to go outside, Glenn looked back and caught my gaze again. I lost my breath and ran upstairs to the bathroom.
    I splashed cold water on my face and looked in the mirror. In a single moment, a solitary glance, my whole world felt different.  My arrangement with Ranee which seemed so safe and tolerable, now seemed suffocating.  I had never felt interested or attracted to someone else, so I didn’t feel like being with Ranee was a sacrifice, but then I wondered if this intense feeling running through me was love at first sight, maybe it wasn’t, but either way, there was nothing I could ever do about it.
    I pulled myself together, and ran down the stairs to tell Ranee I had to go home because I felt sick.  I ran into Glenn before I had a chance to talk to Ranee.
    "Where are you off to in such a rush?," he asked with an intense stare.
    "Oh, I have to get going. I don’t feel very well," I muttered while darting my eyes all around the room trying so desperately to avoid looking into the warm wells of his eyes.
    "Before you go, I wanted to share something with you. Ranee told me that you love art, and I have some paintings with me.  Please come, and I’ll show them to you," he said so innocently that in that moment I completely believed everything would be ok.
    "Well, for a moment, I guess," and as I said this I couldn’t help but lock into his gaze.
    I followed him outside to his car, and he showed me his paintings.  They could easily have been images plucked from the landscape of my own inner world. There were paintings of the sunset, old buildings and bridges, the night sky.
    Then, there was an image of a girl . . . that truly took my breath away. The likeness to me was uncanny; her hair color was slightly different, and the shape of her face a touch more round, but this painting could be one that was intended to be my portrait.  I turned to him in awe and confusion.
    "I know," he said. "I painted this one several years ago, and when I saw you I couldn’t believe how much you look like her.  I’ve painted lots of people, but this is the only portrait of someone that I created out of my mind, someone that I didn’t really know."
    “I just wanted to show it to you because of how weird it is, you know.  Just a strange coincidence.”
    “Did you show this to Ranee?”
    “No, no I don’t know what he’d say.  He isn’t really that interested in coincidences, or art.  No, I just wanted to show you because I had the paintings in my car.  I’m going to be here for the summer, and I brought them to show my grandmother.”
    "Oh,” I wasn’t sure what else to say.  I also knew that anything I wanted to say wouldn’t be ok.
    “You know I really have to go.  Please tell Ranee I had to go." I ran more quickly away from that house than I would have if it had been on fire. I just ran and ran.
    When I was out of an earshot, I cried: for the life I had lost, the mother I had killed, the choices I had demolished, and the feelings of love I’d never explore.
    All the grief, pain, violation, guilt, and suffering that I had stuffed away in the years since my mother’s death flooded back. I was the small selfish little brat who pushed her mother into her coffin, the dirty whore who sold my body to have her deepest and darkest secret kept hidden.  The worst tragedy of all would be for Glenn to ever know.  I couldn’t bear to tarnish the pure looks he gave me.
    I hid out in my house for the first few weeks of that summer under the guise of having an illness. I didn’t see Ranee until finally he would wait no more.  Late one night, he snuck into my bedroom window and woke me with a kiss.
    "Ranee, you shouldn’t be here. You could catch what I have. Stop."
    "Oh, Ana, I’m sick without you. I just needed to see you. Just for a minute. How are you doing?"
    "I’m doing ok," I said through a small coughing fit.
    "Oh, baby, I’m sorry. And, the weather is great outside. I was really hoping you would be able to go on the canoeing trip this weekend."
    "No, I won’t be able to make it," I said trying to fight off the desperation I felt to have him leave. Looking at him now, I just couldn’t take his feelings. I could see his love, his attachment to me.
    He felt my coldness and said "Ana, what is wrong. You’re acting really weird."
    "Nothing Ranee, I just don’t feel well. You better go."
    "Look, don’t think you can brush me off. You know how it is, right? I love you so much, and I won’t let you go so easily.”  He looked through me.  “Come on girl, get better,” he said with a slight smile.   “I’ll see you real soon, ok?"
    "Yeah Ranee, whatever you want."

***

    A few days later, I finally emerge from my room.  My Auntie convinces me that I need to get out, and she draggs me along to the annual church picnic at the park.  Ranee is on the canoeing trip, so I feel safe being out.
    The summer sunshine feels so good.  A cool breeze melds with the warmth creating the perfect temperature. The peaceful sound of the wind moving the branches calms me, and it feels good to finally turn my mind to something besides the tortuous thoughts I had been spinning.
    Taking care of the young kids had become my ritual at the picnic, so I quickly move into my role. I start a little game of hide-and-go-seek among some of the kids. I completely lose myself in this child’s game; it feels wonderful. I giggle and carry on with them, as though I was just another nine year old.
    Then, I feel a light tap that sends a tingling sensation through my body.  It jolts me from my giddy good time, and I nervously swing my head around to see who is there. Glenn smiles down at me.
    "Hey there, Anastasia," he says. "Ranee told me that you’ve been sick. I’m glad to see that you are feeling so much better."
    "Oh, thanks, yeah I guess I am feeling better . . . But, uh, not entirely better you know. I still have to get my rest." I fake a horrible cough as I turn back to the kids to rest from his stare.
    "Well, watching you run around with these kids, you look so healthy," he says. "You are glowing you know."
    I nervously laugh and can’t control the rush of heat to my cheeks. "Oh, well, I um better get back to the game. It was nice to see you," I say as I turn away from him ready for a full sprint into the best hiding spot I could find.
    "Anastasia, you don’t have to run from me. I am not trying to make you uncomfortable. I know you are with Ranee, and I don’t want to cause you any trouble. I am only here for the summer, and I just hoped that maybe we could all be friends," he says.  
    I don’t want to turn around and look at him because his words are breaking down my walls. With each sincere gesture and loving look, I feel weaker and weaker in my resolve to hold up this charade that I am in love with Ranee. I feel less and less able to pretend. Slowly, I bring myself to look into his eyes.
    "Glenn, there is so much you don’t understand.  I can’t explain.  I’m sorry." As I look at him, I feel that there is more honesty in that moment than ever in my life.
    I lean over and give him a kiss on the cheek before I run away.
    Quickly, I find Auntie and convince her it is time to go home.  I tell her I desperately need my rest, and she quickly gathers her things.
    We aren’t home for more than five minutes when there is a loud knock at the door.  I run upstairs to my room saying I need to get to bed right away, and as I make my way up the stairs, I hear Auntie talking with Ranee. I hear his loud footsteps pounding down the hallway toward the stairs.
    "Ana, I want to talk to you."
    "I was just going to get some rest. The church picnic really wiped me out. Let’s talk later," I say without turning around. I just continue up the stairs.
    "No. We are going to talk right now," he says with fire in his voice.
    I stop and turn my head back to see this expression of rage on his face. I feel terrified, but I spring into action. I quickly turn around and head down the stairs. "Let’s go sit out back."
    He follows close behind me as I head for the back door of Auntie’s cottage. When we are sitting in the chairs behind her house, he finally says, "what the hell is going on with you and Glenn?"
    "Nothing. He’s your friend," I say trying to look in his eyes, but unable to force myself to do it.
    "Well, so do you make it a habit of kissing all my friends?"
    "No, of course I don’t. What are you talking about?"
    "You know what I am talking about you lying bitch. You crazy little witch. After all that we’ve been through, you would lie to me and go behind my back, huh."
    "No Ranee, you don’t understand at all. I was telling him that I didn’t want to see him. It was just an innocent kiss on the cheek. I wasn’t doing anything. I want to be with you."
    "Tell me you love me. Look straight into my eyes and tell me how much you love me. Right now!"
    Tears are flooding my eyes by this point, and I want with everything in me to shut them down and do as he asks. I look into his eyes and say "I . . . do. I . . .love," but before I can get the words out, I drop my gaze to my shoes. I just start crying hysterically, knowing what all this is going to mean.
    Before, I have a chance to say anything, Ranee is gone. I run after him screaming his name, but he just keeps going.
    I run to my room past Auntie. She tries to stop me and find out what was the matter, but I can’t speak. I just run into my room and start moving my dresser to block my door. I lock the window, close the curtains, and then heap myself on the floor.
    So many questions spin through my mind: what would happen as Ranee told everyone my secret, how would Auntie feel about me, or Glenn, or everyone else? Would I go to jail? Overwhelmed by all I have been hiding from for so many years, I reach for this old knife with a handle made of pearl that had belonged to my mother. It is one of the only things I kept of hers. It is so unique and beautiful: this dainty little weapon.
    Today, I realize why I hung onto it all these years. I pull the blade from the leather sheath, and quickly, before I have a chance to think of the pain, I slice it across my wrist. At first, it only makes the smallest scratch, so I push down with more pressure.
    Then, I just lay there watching the blood quickly spill out of my body. With each gush I feel closer and closer to ending this nightmare that suffocates me. I start to feel very sleepy as the pool grows bigger, and I let myself drift off.  Making everything slowly slip away.

***

   "Anastasia Dear, it is all going to be ok," says a calming voice that seems so far away. Everything is dark and the sounded is muffled, like in a dream. I try to open my eyes, and finally I see light, then blurry objects. Unclear images of faces I don’t recognize, a man and a woman. Their lips are moving, but there's no sound. I lay there wondering who they are . . . who I am, and what is going on.
   I just keep staring until my vision clears, and then I see a woman I recognize push the man at my bedside away. She grabs my hand and repeats, "Anastasia Dear, it is all going to be ok." The woman smiles sweetly.
   As I focus in on her face, it all starts coming back to me. My aunt, my mother, Ranee . . . the pearl knife, the blood.
    I shut my eyes as tightly as I can, just hoping and praying that Auntie is wrong. I don’t want to be ok. I don’t want to still be here. I don’t want to know what happens next.
   "Anastasia, it is ok. It’s me Auntie, and everything is alright.  Don’t worry dear."
   I think, "she doesn’t know yet."
   Then, I open my eyes one more time and notice that someone else is in the room. It's Glenn, and he begins walking toward my bed with flowers.
   "Hi Anastasia. I’m so glad you’re awake," he says.
    Then, this man in white ushers them all out of the room.  He turns around and returns to my bed, and he says, "Anastasia, are you a bit confused?"
  I nod.
  "You just need to rest, let-go," he says.
  "No, wait. First, I have to know something."
  "What do you need to know?"
  "Uh, my boyfriend, Ranee, why isn’t he here?"
  "He helped us understand why you did what you did.  I think you know why he isn't here."
  "Oh."  Did they all know?  Could they have forgiven me?  Could it really be ok?
  "Alright, now," the man says.  "I think you know enough to take a rest, to let go."