Malachite in the Moonlight

Alaina,

awoke, chandeliers shimmering in the moonlight,

grabbed for the depositions on her bedside. One would be a car. Another a trip to the coast.

She was still home.

Relief.

Her malachite necklace still around her neck.

She was still her.

The gemstones seemed… darker. The air felt… dense. It must be the moonlight.

That dream.

A woman. Her sister. No... she had longer hair.

Undressed. Torn. Used. Thrown.

Her.

She was undressed. Torn. Used. Thrown.

Famished. Sweating. Drinking water from the plastic cup they gave her two weeks ago.

She'd had mugs. Once.

A porch. Coffee. Tea. Birds.

A daughter.

She knew them, real, in her mind.

But all she could see was her hair flowing through a cage.

Alaina reopened her eyes to the brightness of the full moon.

The stack.

of cars, dinners, and trips to the coast.

Here, this one. About a woman.

Undressed. Torn. Used. Thrown.

Caged.

She let the papers fall onto the marble floor.

She was the door. The key. The planter. The nail.

She was the bird on the porch. She was the bird in the cage.

Each one was a cage.

Her phone buzzed – her mother.

How long had it been?

It buzzed again and spawned the rumble of growing lava underneath a mountain. A volcano awoke within her. An eruption of bile, tears.

Something was trying to get out.

---

Fiona,

awoke, her incense tray by the windowpane.

Careful to not wake him.

The tray, filled with ten rings for a full moon cleansing.

One for each finger. Topaz. Opal. Malachite.

One by one, she slipped them on.

She could still feel his hands around her neck.

One by one, another golden lariat.

She struggled to quiet her wheezing.

That dream.

Daybreak had not yet arrived. But the night had not ended for many years.

Today it would.

An innocent mistake turned lifetime of horror.

Who had she been to leave on her own.

The square was no place for a woman without a man.

What was she saying?

Four years had played tricks on her.

Had she been here for four years?

She was Fiona. But Fiona was not her.

She had only needed meat for her hound. Her sweet green-eyed Malachite.

Four years had passed. Four years she’d heard Mala through the iron bars from the ground above. Her sweet whine turned whimper.

Four years until tonight. Mala had not come.

She reached under the cot.

Weeks to bind it. Weeks of knowing they were binding one of their own.

Dawn was breaking.

She hoped the pipe didn’t.

Around the pipe.

Around her neck.

Four years, and many to be beyond. They weren’t for her.

Their rules. Their life. Not hers.

Mala had gone out alone, just as she had.

She had her mission now.

Fiona would find her.

They would both be free.

The moonlight passed through the stones. All ten rings on.

Tight. They felt tight.

He stirred.

She rushed back into bed.

---

Helena,

awoke, the hospital bed the same color as the moonlight.

Everything was. Except the malachite bracelet with her name on it.

Blood type: A positive. Allergies: None. Age: twelve. Name: Helena Doe.

The lightning jolted down her left side again. She pressed the button for the nurse.

Head down only to peer up lightly, gently, cautiously,

The nurse walked in.

She had a warmth to her, under her cloudy blue aura.

She had a bracelet just like Helena’s - but hers was real.

Was hers was just as itchy?

The nurse smiled as she leaned over Helena, injecting more liquid into the hanging bag.

Her soft eyes finding their way to Helena’s heart.

A new feeling. A nice feeling.

She asked if Helena was alright. Alright she was.

She answered yes.

She asked if Helena knew when her family was arriving. Know, she did not.

She answered yes.

Her adopted parents were to arrive today.

Helena thought about her adventure.

Searching and finding the agency.

Leaving.

Pleading with the man.

But he would not help her.

But she did not want to go back.

Trying to escape, struggling to break free.

Falling.

The ice had gone black, then so had the world.

Helena asked about the nurse’s rounds from the day before.

A sweet woman with marks around her neck.

A rich woman with an addition to anti-anxiety and ADHD meds.

And herself. Her daily caffeine and anti-depressant.

The nurse was kind. Honest. Sad.

She asked the nurse to stay with her.

Sitting beside her bed, the nurse held her hand.

The moonlight shimmering through her green bracelet.

And she fell asleep.