Caged in Darkness (Caged #1)
J. D. Stroube
DEDICATION
I dedicate this book to my Father, who taught me that no matter how many times life beats me down; I can rely on him to pick me up. To my Husband, who is unfailingly patient with my peculiarities, and who pushes me to succeed at every step I take. I love you both. To my Papa, for being the greatest Grandpa I could have ever wished for. You’re still alive in my memories and I miss you every day. I would also like to dedicate this book to my cats, who spent endless hours curled up with me on my rocking chair, as I wrote this. Their company is a safety blanket for my soul and my family is the rock that keeps me grounded.
ACKNOWLEGDEMENTS
This book would not have been possible without my amazing support network. Thanks to my family for supporting me, to my talented cover artist Regina, and my friend Lisa who helped me through the editing process!
PROLOGUE
Sludge caked my bare feet and slowed my passage. Nature hindered my flight, as though wanting me to turn back; to go to him. It had turned hostile. The stillness that calmed me during sleepless nights, the breeze that cooled my angry flesh, and the moon that guarded against nightmares were now my enemies.
My sanctuary no longer comforted me. It was a predator and I its prey. My heartbeat broke its ordinary rhythm and cried in its claustrophobic state. My lungs smothered the worn organ, utterly failing to provide oxygen as I flew through the forest. I refused to stop even though my veins melted away to acidic fire. I needed freedom.
My dress strap caught on a branch and was torn free. I felt a twinge of pain as the edge pressed into my shoulder and drew blood. Chaotic laughter trailed behind me. It turned the ageless trees into a bitter menace. They loomed around me to conceal him. Branches tore again at my skin in an effort to bind me, while weeds sought to shackle my ankles. The pain they caused was minor when compared to the searing inferno at my core. I clawed through the barriers, crying out when I came to a dead end.
Towering rocks blocked my passage and he was gaining ground. I made an attempt to pull myself over the stone barricade, but they sliced through my palms. I desperately tried to find leverage, but I was winded and my strength had left me.
My mind was betraying me; my natural instincts at war with my purpose. My body and soul screamed for survival. Though it wasn’t mine I was fighting for…
1: Savannah’s Journal
First entry: Recounting my past
I would love to say my life in Meadow Falls was blissfully ordinary, but that would be a lie. I yearned to wake in the morning excited for the day to begin, instead of waiting for it to end. It is said that you can’t miss what you’ve never had, but I think that is what people say to make themselves feel less guilty about their own happiness. Personally, I conform to the saying “the grass is always greener on the other side.” The grass on my side is stale and brown with patches of dirt that have never seen the sun.
There are people in the world, who are just wrong, and then there are the masses that are right, or at the very least they lie in between. I do not belong to any group. I don’t exist. It’s not that I have no substance; I have a body like everyone else. I can feel the fire when it burns against my skin, the rain when it caresses my face and the breeze as it fingers my hair. I am just empty, inside.
How does someone’s psychological makeup create the person they become? Why did I have to be barren of emotion? Why did my parents conceive a child when they never should have? I have yet to find a book that can explain to me, why I picked the short straw. How does fate decide who will be given a life of privilege, against the child who must scavenge through the garbage to find their weekly dinner? Why couldn’t I have won the celestial lottery and been given an entirely different life?
The world is not fair. If it were, I would have been given a choice on the life I would lead. Life is supposedly filled with paths that enable unlimited choices. That is a blatant lie. No one has freewill until they are an adult, and by then the choices that were made for them have already set them on a passage that limits the choices they have yet to make. Adults are merely given the illusion of free will. The course of their lives has a set destination, which was dictated by their previous experiences and the foundation their parents built for them. Although, some might say that is just my excuse to ignore the person I have become.
I have rules that govern my life, which have kept me from being the type of person that harms others. They are numerous and often overwhelming, but there is one rule that supersedes all others, which is to never become a monster. The day I look in the mirror and see a monster, is the day I give up my struggle to survive.
I prefer to keep to the fringes and watch while others attempt to make connections. The fewer I have, the easier life is. I have perfected the art of matching the emotions of others, but always wearing a mask is tedious. Some relations were chosen for me; my guardian, Maye and her foster son, Ash. There is only one link I chose, and her name is Willow.
I saw Willow be beaten down by society and forced into the same shadows that I inflicted on myself. I loved the shadows; the feel of them slithering over my body and curling around my limbs was comforting. Willow hated them. She longed for the light, but was only allowed to touch the fringes.
I was ten years old, when I made the decision to become her friend. At first, I was afraid that she would ask questions about before, but she never did. Eight years later she has never asked and I have never offered. She seemed to naturally understand that I needed a portion of my life to remain separate from my past.