LIKE CORN FOR CHOCOLATE
I do not, repeat not, own Children Of The Corn, or any other works by Stephen King.
CHAPTER 1
"For God's sake Leven, you arrogant little bitch!" my mom screamed at me before slapping me hard across
my face. It stung; one her rings had twisted and cut into my flesh slightly. My cheek went numb.
"Jesus Joan, you can't go around slapping her like that, she's not five anymore!" my dad intervened. Mom
sent him a death glare and he quickly retreated to reading his paper on the couch. He was so weak
sometimes; why couldn't he grow some balls at times like this? My younger brothers Hunter and Bentley
had also cowered slightly into one of the corners of the room and my sister Hadley had shrunk a few inches
from the chair she was huddled in. There was a deafening silence in the room and I felt like it was time to
break it. "Mom," I began, trying to keep my breathing steady, "you can't hit me every time I don't do
something you're happy with. But that's not my fault, I have my own life to live." Mom's face paled as her
mouth formed a thin, tight line. Her tone was deadly: "Leven, you can't sneak out to see that boyfriend of
yours for some kind of cheap fuck! This is the fourth time now, and if you think I'm gonna be a grandma to
some bastard child, you have another think coming!" she growled. "Ooh, steady on there Joan," my Dad
urged. She turned to him, "For God's sake Dave, how can you condone her for this. And not only this but
skiving off work to piss about with her pathetic little friends and flunking her Maths class. Seriously, I'm not
paying out another year for all that tuition that she never goes to!" My mom was fuming and on the brink of
screaming. "Fuck you all!" I screamed. I now had every single persons attention in the room. "For God's
sake, you can't tell me how to live my life. I don't even need you for any of that! So, you know what? I'm
gonna do what I should have done years ago!" With that I legged it upstairs, grabbed my rucksack and
shoved in a couple of tops and a few pairs of trousers. I quickly picked up my phone, although the reception
out here was shit, and stomped downstairs. When my siblings realised what I was doing I saw the shock
clamber onto their faces. I was all they had practically; Mom only ever shouted or snapped at them, if not
hitting them whilst Dad was cowering away behind his paper. He meant well, but simply couldn't find it in
him to put anything right when she was around. He was comforting to us after one of Mom's outbursts but
not during. My dad looked pretty upset too. We actually got on really well. "If you think you're ever coming
back here Leven, you've got another think coming!" Mom snarled. "Fine," I shrugged. Suddenly, Hadley
jumped up from her position on the chair and ran over and hugged my waist. Hunter and Bentley did exactly
the same. I bent down so I was at their level and spoke to them. "You listen to me," I began, trying to sound
authoritative but loving, "don't make Mom mad and go easy on Dad. I don't know when I'll be back but I need
some time alone for a while. Please, be good." "Will we see you again?" Hunter squeaked, trying to hold
back tears. I smiled at him and lied my arse off. "Soon, you'll see me soon." Truth be told, Mom would
murder me if I came back or someone would've killed me by then. "Bye Dad. I love you," I said before
running out of the house. I had no clue where to go. Most of my family were either dead or were in Salt Lake
City. There were no buses at this time of day, probably not for the next few days knowing Hemingford.
So I walked. I wasn't sure how far and how long I had been going, but it the sun was beginning to set and
I was feeling tired. There wasn't much around me except for corn fields on either side of the road and a
gravel road down the middle. Eventually, I had to sit down. I was starving. God, what was wrong with me?
I didn't have any food or money, not that there'd be anywhere around to get anything. After a few minutes I
started walking again. I began to feel edgy walking along in the dark. I began to get the feeling that I was
being watched. I turned but couldn't find anyone, no signs of life anywhere except from the corn and crops.
I camped out for the night, failing to really get any sleep, only for a fear of being abducted! The next
morning I walked some more, before reaching a sign which read "Welcome to Gatlin: the cutest corn
community in America!" The irony of this was that the sign was vandalised in red and black ink with
what looked like crosses and skulls and things. Sweetest corn community my arse!
The sun was searing hot. I began to lose the will to live and wandered how long it would take for me to die
out here or for when my legs would cave in. However, like yesterday, I kept getting the feeling that someone
was following or watching me ad it was freaking me out. But every time I turned around to see if there was
anyone around, there was no one. This was so weird. Eventually I came across what looked like a run down
garage. There was an old man with an even older dog fixing up a car. "Excuse me," I called. The man turned
around grabbing onto a metal spanner in shock, but when he saw me he relaxed. "You shouldn't go
sneaking up on folks, Miss, particularly not somewhere like Gatlin," he said. God, this place was weird. "Er,
sorry. Could you tell me how far the town centre is or the nearest cafe?" I asked. The old man chuckled.
"You won't find anything round here Miss, just keep walking up ahead, turn left and walk up that road and
I'm sure you'll find some sort of civilisation," he informed me. "Thanks," I smiled, and with that I turned and
left. There was something odd about that man as if he was hiding something from me. I quickly put that
thought out of place and kept on walking in the direction he said. But it just led me back to the welcome to
Gatlin sign. "Fuck!" I exclaimed. I'd had enough of this. I turned from the sign and walked up the way I'd
had to in order to reach Gatlin. However, I then began to hear a rustling coming from the corn field. It didn't
sound light enough to be coming from the wind. There was definitely someone there. And I was right. As I
stared into the crops to see who was lurking in there a boy jumped me. He pinned me to he gravel road,
holding a vicious looking knife to my neck. I took in his appearance; he had auburn hair which almost
reached his shoulders and was dressed in rather old fashioned clothing, almost like in this documentary
I'd seen on TV about the Amish. This was so weird. His face was stern and his teeth were clenched. He
had a penetrating and intimidating stair in his piercing blue eyes. This sent chills down my spine.
"Outlander!" State your name and the reason you are here!" he growled. He sounded so territorial and
predatory. "My name is Leven and I was passing through," I said trying to get a grip on my shaky breathing.
"Where are you from Outlander?" he demanded. I didn't like him calling me "Outlander." So I decided
not to stand for it, I mean I would most likely be killed now anyway so what did I have to loose. "Will you
please stop calling me that? I've just told you my name, it's Lev - en!" I said the last part really exaggeratedly.
He looked pissed off and I found this pretty funny. "I'm from Hemingford." He still held me down. "How
old are you, Lev - en?" he mocked me on the last part of that sentence. "I'm sixteen, but I'll be seventeen in
August," I answered innocently, as if I was totally clueless as to the fact he could end my life at any point.
Suddenly he pulled me up and begin dragging me by the arm into the corn field. "Er, hang on a sec, where
the hell are you taking me?" I demanded half scared and half annoyed at the fat he thought he could just
drag me around as he pleased. He turned to me and gave a death glare before cupping my cheeks hard.
"Shut it, Outlander!" I whispered huskily, "or you'll never find out," he said, waving his knife from side to side
menacingly. I took the hint and just kept on walking. Eventually we reached the town centre, but no one
was around. I decided to break the silence. "So I've told you about me, but what about you?" I asked. He
ignored me. "Oh fine, well if you're going to be like that," I said under my breath. But to my surprise, the boy
spoke up. "Malachi, my name's Malachi," he said. "Why?" I shrugged, "Dunno, really, just want to know the
name of my kidnapper," I answered, a smirk creeping in over my face. He looked back at me. We stopped
walking. He looked deeply into my eyes as if studying me or something. I noticed his eyes searching my
face slightly. After a strange few seconds, we began walking again. He still had a grip on my arm, but it
wasn't as strong as it had been. I managed to take in his face in those few seconds. His eyes were very
piercing and icy blue. His hair was slightly curly at the ends and he seemed to naturally have a very hard
expression. Dare I say it, despite the fact was my kidnapper and potential killer, he was actually kind of
handsome. Strange thing to say as he wasn't classically handsome, like in the movies but he had a face
that I could get used to. I thought I might as well considering that he might be holding me captive for a while.
What? I might as well try to make light of the whole thing so nothing will be a surprise when it happens - like
dying!
Eventually we reached what looked like a church. It was the only thing we had passed that wasn't vandalised
or of bad appearance. The whole place seemed like a ghost town really. When we stepped inside though,
I noticed the place had been vandalised. There were corn husks stuffed in the organ pipes and pictures
of Jesus and such had been drawn over and ripped. On the altar were two wicker baskets filled with corn
which I guessed were from the fields. In front of the altar was a boy who looked about 16. He turned to face us.
I took in his appearance. He was pale, skinny, dressed entirely in a black suit with a white, high neck tunic
underneath, and had a dark, penetrating expression on his face. His eyes were grey and seemed more like
an elderly man's eyes, as well as the fact he seemed to show early signs of ageing due to the faint frown
lines on his forehead. Malachi took out his knife, held it beneath his neck and bowed slightly. The boy at the
altar returned this. "I found her by the roadside," he told the strange boy. "Thank you Malachi," the other boy
replied. He then turned to me. "Come here Leven." Holy shit! How did this guy know my name? I cautiously
stepped forwards. he turned my head to the side and inspected my left cheek. "What happened here my child?"
he asked, his voice laced in curiosity and sympathy. I knew he was looking at the mark my mom had given me
across my face. "My Mom hit me when she found out I wasn't meeting her lofty heights in terms of standard,"
I replied sarcastically. This earned a laugh from the boy inspecting my cheek and a slight smirk I noticed
form Malachi. God knows why I was telling them this; I'd never met them before. "I see the adults have wronged
you Leven," the boy said. "Er, sorry, how do you know my name?" I asked. He ignored my question, choosing
to reply with, "My name is Isaac." I swallowed, slightly unsure of where this was going. "Er hello Isaac," I
replied. "Please, how do you know my name and what am I doing here?" He spoke, "You are here because
Malachi clearly has forgotten my words." Isaac glared at Malachi who didn't know where to look. Ok, now I
was intrigued. "You know Malachi that when an adult passes they are given to Him," Isaac informed him.
Him? Who's Him? I thought. "When it's one of our own, no matter if they're an outlander we keep them alive.
But we give them a choice," he turned his attention back to me. "What do you mean?" I asked. "I mean, you can
either join us in worshipping He Who Walks Behind The Rows," he paused. Who the hell was that? "Or," he
continued, "you can be given to him." Now, I might be the sharpest tool in the box, but I got a good idea that
being given to this He Who Walks Behind The Rows would result in my imminent death, and despite everything
I'd previously thought, if I was given the choice I would choose life over death any day! But I was still curious.
"Who is He Who Walks Behind The Rows?" I asked. Isaac smiled, an almost kind, fatherly smile. It was a little
strange, but the nicest anyone had been to me since I'd arrived in Gatlin. "All in good time, my child," he said,
"but are you going to join us or not?" I was pretty feisty, so I wanted to make sure he knew exactly what he was
taking in. "But what does it mean for me to join?" I persisted. To my surprise, Isaac laughed and turned to
Malachi. "She reminds me of you when I first told you about this whole thing, seven years ago," he reminisced.
Malachi smirked again. It seemed to be his trademark thing. "Fine," I said, "I'm in." Seeing as Isaac wasn't going
to spill much now, I thought that I should choose the option of life and join and learn more about this whole thing
as I went. With that, Isaac ordered Malachi to allow me to stay with him in his home since there was no where
else for me to stay. This seemed to annoy Malachi, not that I was surprised. I guessed he didn't particularly like
me all that much, nor did I him actually. Isaac also instructed me to be ready by three days for my initiation
ceremony. Now I was really intrigued. Malachi escorted me back to his house, which seemed too nice for someone
as sharp and hard as him. It was white and pristine, only two stories with a quaint red roof. We went up the wooden
steps and walked round the porch to go in the door which was in an odd side of the wall. Weird! Inside, though,
the place was messy. Typical guy, I thought, not that I was actually much better. "Now," Malachi growled,
already imposing his authority, "you are to stay out of my way. I do not feel too gladly about sharing my house
with an outlander." he spat the words out at me. I nodded innocently. "Go upstairs to your room. It's the guest
room." I quickly ran up there. Normally I'm not so submissive but God knows what was really happening
right now. I didn't feel too keen on dying right now so I thought it was for the best. The room had oak furniture,
a cream coloured carpet and a white lace bed spread and matching pillows. It was such a contrast to the rest
of the house. Suddenly, I heard the door slam shut behind me. Malachi had obviously walked by and shut it.
This infuriated me. I opened the door and marched into a room where Malachi was staring straight out of the
window from. I assumed it was his room. "Right, Mal-a-chi! I've had it with you, and it's not even been three days
or my initiation yet!" He seemed slightly taken aback by my outburst. He came across as someone who didn't
have many people stand up to him. However, he quickly composed himself and in seconds had me pinned to
the wall, trapping my arms by my sides, holding a knife to my throat. "Let's get one fucking thing right here!" he
growled. "I will not hesitate to kill you, even if you are one of the new members to our group. You are still an
outlander in my eyes, and always will be. I don't give a shit what Isaac said; if you cross me, you're a dead
woman, understand?" I would not cry, I kept telling myself that I wouldn't. The minute I nodded in understanding
I legged it back to my room and cried, locking the door behind me. Why the hell did I not just stay with Mom.
I could deal with anything she'd throw at me compared to this lot. How was I going to get through this. I'd
probably be dead in the next few days, and not by being given to He Who Walks Behind The Rows.