I grew up in a small Appalachian cabin that is not listed on any map and has no roads leading to it. The house was nestled deep in a lush, grassy holler. I did not see past those hills until I was six, not that there was much to look at, with the creeping death consuming the mountains as far as my eyes could see. I did not meet a person outside my family for another two years.
From the day I was born, my father instilled in me a deep and unwavering terror of the outside world. “Certain death awaits you on the other side of those hills, Cecelia,” he grumbled as he wagged his finger millimeters from my nose. “Promise you won’t leave this holler before I letcha out.” Pa loomed over me, engulfing the doorway.
“I promise, Papa,” I squeaked.
Yellow flowers dotted the valley, and the spring sun seemed to warm me to my very spirit. I spent hours rolling down hills and collecting dandelions for crowns, wreaths, and chains, only stopping to drink water from the well. In one of my many trips up the hill, I saw some specs bobbing up through the vines, on one of the deer paths.
My stomach suddenly felt like I had gone down to the creek and eaten pebbles for breakfast. This is what Papa warned me about. These people were coming to get me. I wanted to scream, to run, but my legs were firmly cemented in place, and the air stuck sharply in my throat. My eyes locked onto them. Looking back, it was like I was stuck in a tractor beam from the alien movies I had inhaled when I eventually found my freedom many years later.
A towheaded figure, adorned in soft pink, darted out in front of the pack. I began to silently pray for my soul just as Mama had taught me. As they came into focus, I realized the pink figure was a little girl! A little girl! Papa’s boogeymen weren’t little girls. The taller figures began to rapidly flap their arms in my direction. Rats, they’d seen me. In a bout of expert thinking, I ran towards them instead of allowing them to meet me at the top. It was better for Papa to lose sight of me, than it was for them to come wandering onto our property.
The girl was the first to greet me. Her clothes were much cleaner and newer than mine, the colors were much brighter too. She darted her hand out to shake mine. “I’m Molly,” she grinned a toothy grin.
“Cecilia,” I smiled coyly, trying to contain my excitement.
Molly’s mother piped up as her parents brought up the rear. “Hello sweetheart, do you live near here?”
I was terrified to answer.
“I don’t mean to frighten you, dear. We just haven’t seen another person in miles. We must have made a wrong turn. The sun is setting, and we’re nearly out of water…” she trailed off.
I kept my lips zipped.
“Do you at least know where the road is?”
I shuffled my weight between my legs awkwardly. “No… but I can show you where the creek is.”
“We would greatly appreciate it,” a voice boomed behind the mother. I had forgotten there was a man here.
“Please show us the way.” Molly grabbed my hand again and smiled. I pulled her in the direction the creek was, at least where I thought it was. I’d only been allowed there twice before, and never again if Pa caught me. We flitted down the deer trail amongst the overgrown vines, laughing and squealing. It was the most I’d ever felt alive. While Molly’s parents filled their canteens in the creek, we splashed and giggled in the water. I turned to show her a rock I’d found when my ears started ringing.
Molly gripped her stomach and collapsed. Her father took one step before a blast to the temple took him down next to her. I knew what happened before my eyes registered what I was seeing. Pa stood a few dozen yards away with grandpappy’s rifle. Molly’s mother wailed like a cat, louder than anything I’d ever heard. Pa reloaded, and it was over. I stared aimlessly into the crimson water. He grabbed me by my ear to drag me home.
“Now, what the hell did I tell you?”
I stared at my feet, unable to look him in the eye. “If anyone that’s not family comes around, come get you.”
Pa smacked me against the back of the head, hard.
That night, the meat Pa served tasted odd, and I didn’t remember him going on a hunting trip recently, but I knew better than to ask questions.
It was another two years before I was allowed at the creek again, and four summers after I met Molly before I saw another soul not in my relation. The next time I saw a figure emerge from the hills, I ran at them, screaming and spitting like a feral child. I felt a little guilty for frightening them, but I refused to let Pa get his hands on anyone else.