DEBUT NOVEL

                    Prolouge

         Even as a child I could feel the groping darkness suffocate my light the day mother and I showed up at the door of Crane Manor. I thought my stepfather did us a favor when he died. I naively believed things would get better with him gone. The mind of a child is an innocent playground until life rips away the beautiful illusions they were born  with.

         Grandmother's estate was monumental, in a foreboding prison kind of way. Winds that whipped frigidly from the east wing patrolled the perimeter with a warning to all those that approached. My shoes felt like cement blocks. I knew I should have listened to my hesitation in that moment and ran in defiance but my choices as a ten year old were usually hushed by adults. 

         I had never seen my grandmother before. Mother did her due diligence keeping her out of our lives before I was even  born. However, it didn’t take long to realize that Abigail Crane was not your typical apron wearing, cookie baking kind of grandmother. 

      The door opened to a skeletal woman whose crepey jowls dripped off her face. The corners of her mouth were drawn downward in a permanent frown of disgust. The pinched eyebrows and squinty stare supported her miserable persona. She reminded me of Ms. Shaffer, the superintendent of my school. She walked the halls like a warden, hating life while scooping out the next unsuspecting kid to take it out on. 

               Grandmother shifted her hollow eyes from my mother to me then back to my mother. A look of disapproval and annoyance was not held back. 

          “Elouise.” Grandmother spoke only her name. The disdained tone revealing  how she felt about seeing us at her door didn’t escape my senses. Repulsion hung off her like a musky stench deterring anyone that dared move too close to her.

        “Mother, thank you. I know the burden we put on you by imposing, but I promise you will not even know we are here.“ 

         My mother shrunk herself like a beat dog. She hung her head, refusing to look grandmother in the eyes. If she had a tail, I'm pretty sure it would have been tucked. 

           “ I highly doubt that your presence will go unnoticed.” Grandmother's words carried the weight of a brick, piling one after the other, easily squashing what was left of my mothers pride. 

         I just stood there witnessing the cold exchange between a mother and a daughter not comprehending how it got to be this way.                  

          “ I had Charles make up your rooms. I’m sure you will find them accommodating.” Dropping her eyes to our bags, she wrinkled her nose. “You will bring up your own…” A pause filled her mouth as she searched for the word. “... luggage…to your rooms. As for the house rules, they have not changed.”  Grandmother spoke to us as if she were addressing freshly hired staff that needed to know their roles.

            Abigail shifted  her scrutinizing gaze onto me , dropping the bottom out of my gut. I tried to swallow my fear only to suffocate on it as it clawed its way down my sandy throat. 

         “ The noises you hear, ignore them. The things you see, forget them.” She looked me over from top to bottom, scanning to see if I was able to absorb her words coherently. 

       “This is my home.” She positioned her nose towards the sky showing us her hierarchy. “The position of family does not entitle you to more than I see fit for you to know. I expect complete abidance. Lest you forget, you may regret showing up at Crane Manor.” She gathered in her hand the ring of exaggerated keys that dangled from her waistband. “Do not get too comfortable. This is just a temporary stay.’

    Turning on her heels, she spoke not another  word as she left us to  scramble for our bags and follow her in like paupers being thrown scraps, grateful she didn’t close the door in our faces. 

      With one foot over the threshold, I heard a hushed voice brush my ear. ‘You will know!”  I spun around to find only the backside of the door. Every cell in my body was trying to warn me. The blood drained from my face. Mother could sense my reaction and nudged me with her arm.  She gave me a subtle shake of her head, telling me not to react.  No, no no! I shouldn’t be here! WE shouldn’t have come!  

      Panic begged me to claw my way through the closed door. I had to get back on the other side of it. A wave of anxiety washed over me. Reaching for the doorknob, I felt a warmth dripping from my fingertips. I blinked a few times as I viewed my outstretched hand unable to register what I was seeing. My fingernails had been grated to nubs! I was bleeding profusely from each finger! Hysteria flooded over me. My head spun in disbelief. The hyperventilating silenced my lungs of the scream it desperately needed to release!

   Terror overcame me. I held up my mutilated hands and took a step back in utter paranoia. With a second step backwards, I felt a strong grip on my shoulders. 

            ‘CLAIRE!” I heard my mothers harsh tone. Freeing myself from her hold, I turned around to see a mutated look of anger and pleading covering her face. I had been robbed of all speech so I held out my trembling hands to show her. 

          Was she blind? How did she not see my mangled finger?  “Mother LOOK!” I yelled as I waved my hands in front of her only to see that my fingers were perfectly normal! I yanked them back within an inch of my eyes examining both sides of my hands. Incoherently I lifted my face to my mother. She stood there with an unspoken apology in her eyes.  She said nothing but her silence told me everything. She knew. She knew the truth about this place. The darkness that resided here. She knew what she was bringing me too. 

        And she knew, she couldn’t protect me from it!