It is rare for humans to divert in their thought process. Once studied, all can be understood, manipulated, and conquered—she once read in a scientific journal.

  As the family sped away from Morgan’s childhood home, she resisted the urge to look back. She just looked down the long street ahead, silent as the dawn. Rows of oak and maple trees lined the sidewalks. The upper-class suburban neighborhood was filled with homes more substantial than what the average American family needed. There were luxury vehicles parked in every driveway, lawns trimmed to perfection, and although the weather was perfect for being outdoors, there was no one around. She rolled down the window, and the crisp morning breeze brushed her face as the rain from the previous night started to evaporate under the early morning sun, creating a blinding sheen.

  After fifteen minutes of driving, they arrived at Chelsea’s house. The small ranch home was crooked and leaned to the east. The corner next to the driveway had been crashed into twice before. Once by Chelsea’s drunk father and once by Chelsea herself. Driving home from softball practice, the brakes failed, and the van crashed. No one had been injured, but neither the van nor the house had been fixed to this day. The greenish paint on the house had been peeling away for years, and while weeds claimed the yard as their own, the rusted wire fence was a clear depiction of what Chelsea had encountered growing up. Every time Morgan visited her, she felt grateful for what she had and appreciated everything she didn’t have to deal with—hardship.

  As James backed up into the narrow gravel driveway, Chelsea shot up from the front porch. She had been waiting outside in anticipation for the last forty-five minutes, using the time to joke around with her two younger brothers and played fetch with her dog. A young pit bull named Sasha.

  “Mom, Morgan’s here. I’m leaving now.” Chelsea announced as she grabbed one of the two small suitcases she packed.

  Chelsea’s mom, Donna, ran outside to see her only daughter off to college, grabbed the second suitcase, and hauled it to the car. Chelsea’s brothers hugged her and kissed her with a face full of tears. After a prolonged crying and hugging session with the family, Donna took a few pictures of everyone together. On that day, Donna cried more than the day Chelsea was born, but Chelsea held her tears back as she kissed her mom goodbye.

  “You take care of each other, ok?” Donna said to the girls.

  “Mom, stop being so sentimental,” Chelsea said as she climbed into the SUV and slammed the door.

  “Terry, James. Thank you again—for everything,” Donna said as she shook both James’ and Terry’s hands.

  “It’s nothing, Donna,” James replied.

  “We’ll let you know when we arrive,” Terry joined in.

  “Send pictures,” Donna said.

  “Mom, stop it,” Chelsea yelled, embarrassed of her mother’s lovingness.

  James and Terry sat back in the SUV and waved goodbye as Chelsea left her crying mother and siblings behind.

  For Chelsea, this was more than a rite of passage. It was the opportunity of a lifetime—she would be the first person in her family to attend college. She wasn’t a brilliant individual, and she struggled to get good grades on tests, but she was determined. She witnessed her mother’s struggle throughout the years and wanted to better herself, to one day help her family overcome the poverty they struggled with. Although they lived in the worst part of town, her mother always did everything to help her succeed. She was a waitress at a rundown diner and a cashier at the local supermarket. She never bought anything for herself and always supported the children with homework and school projects. An uneducated but hardworking woman, Chelsea admired her mother’s perseverance.

  “Chelsea, look up,” Morgan said, taking a video on her phone.

  “We’re on the way to Brixton. Goodbye to everyone we knew back home, we’ll miss you” Morgan blew kisses at the camera, Chelsea threw up the peace sign.

  “Later,” Chelsea joined in.

  “I’m not going to miss them. Everyone in high school was terrible. They thought we would never amount to anything. Yet, here we are heading out into the wild world of academic achievement. You and I, we’re going to make a difference,” Chelsea’s excitement was contagious.

  “You girls remind me of myself. At your age, I wanted to change the world,” Terry remarked.

  “Well, did you?” Chelsea questioned.

  “In some ways, I suppose. My accomplishments haven’t gone in vain, and neither will yours,” Terry said as her phone rang.

  She contemplated not answering it—but her nature wouldn’t allow her to let a work call go unattended.

  “Terry Crawford,” she answered.

  Terry never changed her maiden name—she wanted to be recognized for herself, not some man’s property.

  “All you have to do is strive for something you believe in. Every day you encounter a challenge, think of it as a moment preparing you for the next. Even if you may feel that things you’ve done in the past have been in vain or were worthless, you’ll come to find out that they have created the present moment for you,” James weighed in with his knowledge.

  “I get it, Mr. Stark. Like us, for example, we went through all that crap in high school to prepare us for college,” Chelsea said.

  Growing up, she and Morgan had been inseparable since elementary school. Not having a father of her own, Chelsea always respected James. In the summer of 2009, Chelsea became the new girl in town, and Morgan was the friendliest girl in school. She didn’t care about who the cool kids were. She talked to everyone.

  The other kids said that Chelsea looked dirty and started rumors, saying she had lice and ate roaches for dinner. Still, Morgan never paid attention to what others said. She befriended Chelsea after someone decided to trip her as she was exiting the lunch line. Her lunch tray flew in the air, and the mashed potatoes smacked her in the face. Gravy and tears dripped down as Morgan ran to her rescue.

  “These kids are buttholes. I’m Morgan,” she said as she extended her hand down to help Chelsea up off the floor.

  After that, they became inseparable.

  As the four-hour-long road trip upstate continued, the buildings along the side of the road were replaced by vast stretches of empty fields. Chelsea and Morgan sat in the back seat, skimming through the social media profiles of everyone they were leaving behind in Kingston. Although Morgan strived to have a good reputation, most of the high school population kept their distance from her. She wouldn’t miss anyone she was leaving behind, except her family.

  “Did you get to see Sage before you left?” Chelsea asked Morgan.

  “She came by last night, gave me a journal, as a farewell present—I haven’t written in a journal since I was fourteen. Did you get to say bye to John?” Morgan asked.

  “Yeah, I went to his job, but he was busy working on three cars. He promised to stay in touch, but he can’t stay in touch if he can’t touch this.” Chelsea and Morgan laughed.

  “Oh, man. He was such a waste of time,” Chelsea continued.

  “But he was cute, though,” Morgan said.

  “What about you? Did you see Eddie?”

  “I still can’t believe you were dating, Eddie,” Terry interjected, filled with disgust for the kid.

  “It wasn’t anything serious. We just hung out a few times, and yes, I went to say goodbye. We agreed that it would be best to forget about each other for the time being, and if we ever saw each other again, maybe we could reconnect. But let’s face it, no one that goes away to college ever reunites,” Morgan responded.

  “That’s not entirely true. Your mother and I knew each other long before college, and when we moved back home, we reconnected, and then you came along,” James rebutted.

  “Yeah, but you two were meant to be. Eddie and I won’t work out like that. I’m sure of it,” Morgan said.

  Eddie didn’t want anything to do with Morgan—she lied about seeing him before leaving.

  “I really do hope you’re right. That kid has no future. You would be much better off ending up alone,” Terry said, flipping through a TIME magazine.

  “I suppose you’re right. To be honest, I didn’t like Eddie that much. He was dreadfully stoic, and all he talked about was sports. I indulged his commentaries, pretending I knew what he was talking about. I even went to a few baseball games with him, but I would much rather have been studying in a library,” Morgan lied again, just to get Terry off her case.

  She had a crush on Eddie since she was fourteen, and even though it hadn’t been official, he was the closest thing she had to a boyfriend. While a lot of girls in her high school kept aiming to meet the love of their lives, ready to settle at the drop of an overused pickup line, Morgan wasn’t willing to settle for just anybody. She just wanted someone with a brain, and if it just so happened that they had a great body to match, that was all the better. She hoped that her life would take her outside of the small town she grew up in, and whomever she ended up with was intelligent, exciting, and nothing like anyone back home. It was a long shot, but she didn’t want a boring fairytale romance. High school sweethearts who ended up married were the epitome of Kingston. They grew up, got married, settled down, had dull children, and lived the rest of their miserable lives in a bland suburban hell. As a young girl, she vowed to never become one of the dull people in Kingston.

  The road trip started off as any road trip would. Long stretches of empty country roads, as the four of them sang along to songs they had all heard hundreds of times before. But eventually, there were lulls in conversation as the vehicle hummed towards their final destination. An hour into the trip, both of them fell into a deep slumber. Chelsea had only slept a couple of hours the night before because of the nerves, last-minute packing, and anxiety. Morgan, on the other hand, spent the whole night sleepwalking.

  James looked in the rearview and saw Chelsea snoring, mouth open, drooling. Morgan seemed peaceful.

  “I’m glad she’s getting some rest,” James said as he reached over and put his hand on Terry’s lap.

  “Me too,” Terry said, pushing his hand away.

  “You should have seen her this morning. It was the worst I’ve seen her in a long time. She was on the floor, backed into the corner. She kept yelling, ‘Leave me alone.’ It took twenty minutes to shake her out of it. She kept swinging at me and struck me a couple of times—once in the stomach and once in the groin,” James said as he changed the music from the pop radio to classics from the ‘60s.

  “Do you think we’re doing the right thing by letting her go off on her own?” he asked.

  “No, but what else can we do? Lock her in a cage?” Terry laughed.

  “I’m just worried her stress will get the best of her. I just want her to be safe,” James said.

  “Well, maybe this is what she needs. At least she’s not going into this alone. If anyone cares about her as much as you do, it’s Chelsea. She has her medication and someone to watch over her. And according to what doctors say, trying to control her will only make it worse. The only thing we can do is hope. I’m sure she’ll fuck up down the road. But think about all the dumb things we did in college, and here we are,” Terry said, without much care for what would happen.

  James had a hard time accepting that Terry had grown cold and heartless. She wasn’t the same woman he met years back. As an attorney, she became tainted by the cruelty within people. If money wasn’t part of the equation, Terry would not lift a finger to help her fellow man. All she saw were dollar signs when she would defend guilty individuals and get them off with a slap on the wrist. That was her job, to fight for the guilty and the innocent equally. However, most of the people she helped stay out of prison would end up repeating the same mistakes. Instead of referring to them as repeat offenders, she called them her best clients. Her daughter was no criminal, but Morgan’s story hadn’t been a happy one as of yet. Throughout the last few years, her sleepwalking worsened.

  Last October, Terry woke up to the sound of the wind slamming the front door. She glanced at the alarm clock on her nightstand, 3:15. After seeing Morgan’s empty bed, she walked downstairs. Both Morgan and Sawyer were gone. Terry thought perhaps, Morgan had taken Sawyer out for a walk, and the wind had blown the door open. But Sawyer’s leash was on the coat hooks, where it always hung, and Morgan’s sneakers were on the shoe rack next to the front door.

  Morgan hadn’t taken Sawyer out for a walk. Instead, she had stumbled out of the house in a trance, something that had happened more than once before. Terry called the police and tried to file a report, but there wasn’t much they could do. Morgan always turned up—still, Terry and James set out to look for her. They drove around for hours, calling out for her and the dog. They circled the neighborhood four times, but their search was pointless. Like most times she’d wandered off, they resorted to waiting for her to come home.

  As dawn struck, Terry prepared a pot of coffee and spread cream cheese on a bagel. The doorbell rang, waking James out of his slumber on the couch. Terry ran to the front door—it was Officer Carl Wilkins. Peering through the window, Terry could see Morgan and Sawyer standing behind the police officer. She swung the door open, holding her arms out for Morgan. Sawyer barked as he weaved his way past Terry, ran into the kitchen, and began to gulp up the water in his bowl.

  “Oh, finally,” Terry said with a sigh of relief.

  Morgan was covered with dirt from her face to her toes. Her fingernails were broken and bloody, her knees were scraped, her hair was dirty and matted, and her eyes were almost non-existent. It was the same emptiness that took hold of her whenever she sleepwalked—she was devoid of life.

  “Thank you for bringing her home, Carl,” Terry said as she led Morgan to the couch, where James put a blanket over her shoulders.

  “Don’t worry about it. But, given the repeated circumstances, you may want to invest in something to keep your child safe,” Carl said.

  “Sure,” Terry said as she shut the door.

  Terry didn’t like to be told how to handle her family. She refused to keep Morgan under lock and key. After the first time Morgan left the house in the night, Terry had a home security system installed. Still, it appeared that Morgan was conscious enough during her episodes to turn it off. Terry locked the door and started to set the alarm once again. She glanced at Morgan, who stared back in a confused state. Just as Carl was about to speed off, Terry yanked the front door open and ran out barefoot.

  “Carl…” she called out. “Where did you find her this time?”

  “I found her in the cemetery. She was clawing at your mother’s grave.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Unkindness

  M organ had fallen asleep in the backseat while feeling perplexed about the decision she had made. Leaving her hometown to chase her dreams made her feel selfish, but she needed to embrace the world beyond her father’s protection. For the brief time she slept in the backseat, she weaved in and out of dreams—some reminding her of the best times she had in Kingston. Throughout her time in high school, Morgan never missed a school dance. That’s how she met Eddie.

  The two of them would drive around late into the night and end up getting some food or ice cream at the last place open in town. Other times, they would go up to Clayton’s Cliff—an area notoriously known for the innocently illegal things teenagers liked to do after dark. It overlooked all of Kingston to the west and the Atlantic Ocean to the east. It was one of Morgan’s favorite places to read. The cliff was serene, romantic, and picturesque. In school, everyone referred to it as the virgin’s altar, thanks to the countless teenagers who lost their virginity on the moonlit cliff. Morgan knew better than to follow in everyone else’s footsteps and never took it further than some light kissing and fondling inside Eddie’s 2006 Mustang convertible.

  In the dream, the radio played quietly over the old speakers. After dark, there were no DJs on the radio, and Morgan was thankful Eddie’s car was so old that they couldn’t connect cell phones to the stereo. The only thing they played on the top radio station at night were slow songs from the 50s and 60s—the same thing she would listen to if she had to stay up late to finish her schoolwork. Although Eddie didn’t care much for older music, he knew how to be a gentleman and entertained her taste. As the windshield fogged up, Morgan and Eddie watched the Christmas lights that decorated the town fade away as businesses closed down and families turned in for the night. Almost time to go home, Morgan turned the volume up slightly as one of her favorite songs came on the radio.

  “I love this song,” Morgan said.

  “So do I.” Eddie echoed.

  “Do you even know who this is?” Morgan doubted.

  “Of course. It’s Elvis.”

  “So, you do have some class.”

  “Hey, I may be an uncultured piece of swine, as your mother so kindly put it, but I know the classics,” he said, taking a jab at Morgan’s mom.

  “Let’s dance.” Eddie changed the subject.

  “Are you crazy? It’s freezing,” Morgan said, pulling her hand away from his.

  “I’ll keep you warm.”

  “No way.”

  “You can freeze in here too,” Eddie said, putting the convertible top down.

  “Ok, ok.” Morgan agreed.

  Eddie walked around the car and extended his hand. Twirling her into his arms, their foggy breath danced in the cold. There was no snow, but the grass was soggy and slick, causing Morgan to almost fall.

  “I got you,” Eddie said as he caught her.

  Tucked in between each other’s arms, they began swaying in unison under the moonlight as the sound of waves crashing on the rocky shore joined in for an encore.

  Eddie stared into Morgan’s eyes as he pulled her in closer. He placed his hand on the back of her neck, and they shared a kiss that made Morgan remember the first time she felt the virtue of love.

  “I’m not ready for this,” Morgan pulled away.

  “Don’t be scared. I’m only the man of your dreams,” he responded.

 

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