Acosta, Marta - The Shadow Girl of Birch Grove.pdf - standalone - azuleya

The Shadow Girl of Birch Grove – Marta Acosta

THE SHADOW GIRL OF BIRCH GROVE

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The Shadow Girl of Birch Grove – Marta Acosta

Der Vampir

And as softly thou art sleeping

To thee shall I come creeping

And thy life's blood drain away.

And so shalt thou be trembling

For thus shall I be kissing

And death's threshold thou' it be crossing

With fear, in my cold arms.

And last shall I thee question

Compared to such instruction

What are a mother's charms?

Heinrich August Ossenfelder (1748)

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The Shadow Girl of Birch Grove – Marta Acosta

Prologue

ON THE NIGHT that I die, the storm raging outside is not as fierce as my

stepfather raging inside.

His hand is so sweaty that I am able to pull out of his grip. I run through the

kitchen, past my mother’s body. My foot slides in the pool of scarlet blood on the

cracked yellow linoleum floor. I wrench open the back door and run outside.

The darkness is unfathomable, rain beats down, and I am small and

terrified.

“Come back here!” my stepfather bellows and his heavy steps splash

through the mud as he comes after me.

The neglected yard is fenced, and he is closer to the gate leading to the

street than I am. I slosh toward my secret place among three enormous trees at

the far end of the yard. It is too dark to see, yet I know when I have reached the

largest, and I creep around it, hiding behind the wide trunk.

“Jane!”

Though, I cannot hear his movements, I know he’s somewhere near. I peer

around the tree-trunk as lightning flashes, briefly illuminating the monster that he

has become.

His face is contorted by madness, and his sweatshirt is soaked with my

mother’s blood and rain. The dark metal of a gun glints in his hand.

I shake uncontrollably with fear. I move behind another tree and grip the

rough bark, struggling to climb, but the smooth soles of my sneakers slide and

even the lowest branches are beyond my reach.

An earsplitting blast stuns me and throws me back against the third tree. I

think it’s lightening. A second later, pain radiates from below my shoulder to

every part of my body. My knees buckle with the agony. I know that if I fall to

the ground, I will die.

I twist my body toward the tree as blood seeps from my chest, to the trunk

and the rain washes it down to the soil, the tree’s roots. Help me , I think, help me .

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The Shadow Girl of Birch Grove – Marta Acosta

As I begin to black out, I feel arms – no, not arms. I feel something take me

and lift me high into the wet green branches.

Lightning explodes, deafening me and cleansing the air with pure ozone. In

that flash of brilliant white light, I look far down to the yard and see my

stepfather’s body jerk violently as the bolt of electricity rips through him.

Later, I hear the sirens approaching and then the voices amplified by

bullhorns. The storm has passed and the rain falls through the branches in a soft

drizzle. I want to sleep.

“The girl, the neighbors said there’s a kid here,” someone says.

They call my name and I hear them rushing through the house and into the

yard. “Jane! Jane!”

I don’t answer because I am safe.

“Here,” a man says. “A shoe.”

They are close now and they move below me. A woman says, ““On the

tree. Blood. Oh, God, a lot of blood.”

“Where does it lead?”

“Up. Is there something up there? Turn the light this way.”

“Where?”

“In the tree! Way up there.”

I nestle closer to the trunk, so they won’t find me. I feel as if I’m drifting

somewhere.

Then the pain in my body vanishes. I can’t hear the noise or the voices any

longer.

I open my eyes and I’m in a glorious shady wood. I inhale air that smells of

green things – pine, cedar, newly cut grass, the delicious anise scent of wild

fennel. I want to stay here forever.

I see someone coming toward me. I know she’s a woman by her gentle

movements, but she’s not human. Her dress falls down to the brown earth and

tendrils of the hem reach into the soil. I can feel her kindness and she begins

leading me out of the lush world.

“I don’t want to leave,” I tell her.

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Acosta, Marta - The Shadow Girl of Birch Grove.pdf

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