Disclaimer: I do not own characters/titles/etc. featured in The Covenant. All that good stuff is property of Sony Pictures. Original characters and that stuff are brought to you by my very own imagination.
Words Fail Me
Chapter 1: The Hand On My Back
If I try to trace my memories back to where this all began, I can only think of one date. It was on that cold, cloudless November night that I entered the old barn on a "dare". I was new. I wanted to fit in. It was a typical high school sob story, you could say, but in reality it was so much more than that. The barn was on the verge of collapse. The local population said it was a sheer miracle it had remained standing this long. Charlene Mason invited me to a bonfire then night before Thanksgiving; apparently it was some kind of…tradition. I went, not knowing what to expect, but hoping to meet some people I would be able to call friends before the semester was up. Instead, I was faced with my greatest fear: the dark. Yes, it was cheesy, but I couldn't help it. I had been afraid of the dark ever since I was thirteen-years-old. Bad things happened in the dark – things I didn't like to remember.
I stood outside the barn, feeling the warmth of the blazing fire several yards behind me, and I could have sworn fear was emanating from my every pore. It looked so dark through the wide doors and high windows, and it looked like the roof was about to cave in.
"Go on, September. You picked dare. Or are you going to chicken out?" I swallowed the dry lump in my throat. No, I wasn't going to chicken out, no matter how terrified I was of the dark. If I wanted to make friends with any of my new classmates, I had to prove myself. I had to show them I could be one of them.
"I'm just sizing up the place," I replied, and I was relieved to hear my voice was steady and sounded convincingly fearless. I was always a master of the façade. Pushing my auburn bangs out of my eyes, tightening my knotted ponytail, I walked forward to be encased by darkness.
I gazed around the barn, squinting my bright green eyes to try and make out what shapes were facing me. Was that a chair, or a stack of hay? Was that a ladder up ahead, or was that tall and isolating shape the shadow of something far more sinister? I tried to shake these thoughts from my mind. I had to be brave, or I'd lose everything I had been working so hard on for the last three days at Spencer Academy.
And then I heard the sound of movement. There was the rustling of hay up ahead. My heart began beating faster. It's just the wind coming through the window, I told myself. It's just the wind. I repeated the thought like a mantra as the rustling grew louder, more distinct. My hands began to shake as a proceeded forward. I had to make it out of the barn on the other side to complete my dare. God, I was terrified, but I had to continue. I couldn't stop now; not when I was so close.
The rustling stopped suddenly. I froze. A new sound had emerged; the sound of someone breathing. I clenched my fists, ready to run or even fight if I had to. I had to get out of there, but my feet wouldn't move.
When I felt a hand upon my shoulder, I gasped. I meant to scream, but no noise would emit from my throat. Instinct took over. I swung at the person gripping me, my fist colliding with the stranger's face. The mystery person released me at once and I ran as hard and fast as I could for the door just a few feet away. I stumbled through the doorway and out into the moonlight, my breath coming in short, harsh gasps.
Charlene stood staring at me, accompanied by the rest of our classmates who had been sitting around the bonfire. I could feel their eyes boring into my skin, my face, my every being, and I became suddenly aware of the wetness plaguing my cheeks. I was in absolute tears, but I still couldn't make a sound. I turned my face away from them, begging to God they hadn't seen my face well enough in the moonlight to see that I was crying.
Someone was tugged at my arms, pulling me to my feet. I stared at the ground, unwilling to see who was trying to help me in my atrociously pathetic state. My chest heaved in the remains of my terrified state.
"Come on, Keaton. Let's get you out of here." It was a male voice. He put his arm around my waist, guiding me past the crowd, shielding me from view. I was grateful for the support of the stranger. He led me to what I assumed was his car, pulled open the passenger seat and helped me in. I was still shaking with fright. What happened in the barn only brought back memories of the worst times in my life.
The stranger slid into the driver's seat, and I leaned my head against the cold window of my door so I wouldn't have to face him. I didn't know why I was allowing this stranger to help me. I didn't know why I wouldn't look at his face to see who he was. All I knew was he hadn't reacted like the others; he came to my rescue. I hated the thought of being weak like this; of needing some sort of "knight in shining armor". Normally I could take care of myself, but not in the dark.