The Darkest Star

By Ellicia Dawn

In an attempt to save their friend, Amanda, from an abusive boyfriend, Christine and Jessica take her to a small, secluded town in the Utah desert. It was supposed to be a new start, a new life. After buying an old school and making it into a home, what they find are a few secrets hidden behind a locked door. Their new start quickly becomes a nightmare after exploring two basement rooms no one had ever known about.

The three friends learn just how tenuous alliances can be, and that not all friendships are unbreakable.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ellicia Dawn
• Release date: Mar 26, 2020
• ISBN: 9780463762356

Ellicia Dawn

I grew up in a small desert town in Utah where very little has ever happened. My family lived near an area that had a patch of grassland, some swamp-like space, trees, and a stream; perfect for cultivating my imagination. I started writing in high school, starting with poetry and essays, even winning first place in an essay contest with an essay that wasn't on subject. In college I majored in music and took multiple creative writing courses. Just recently I had a short story published in Chicken Soup for the Soul: World's Greatest Mother.

Book preview

*

It had been years since the Jessica had set foot in Mariah, Utah. A young town, the first building was erected just under a hundred years after Castle Dale had been established. The story was that the town was named after the song, Mariah, for the desert wind. Few people lived there, it becoming more of a community for those long retired and seeking a place forgotten by the rest of the world. A school had been built in the town’s early years, only to be abandoned once it was clear there were too few children to justify its existence. The school was fairly big considering the lack of students. Fifteen rooms give or take; five rooms on the second level. Though plain in appearance the foundation was strong, the walls well constructed enough that the weather hadn’t succeeded in wearing them down. The brick had faded, the wood stained by the rain and smoothed by the dirt and sand. Nature itself had created its own art with something humans had abandoned.

The town itself was like an emerald in the desert—full of trees, grass, various flowering shrubs and bushes. Watering always had to be scheduled for two days a week at certain times of the day, usually 5 to 8, both in the morning and evening; just enough to keep the micro-town green and cool in the summer. With so little to do, in general, the community spent much of their free time tending to their yards and orchards.

Returning to her home town hadn’t originally been Jessica’s plan. It took the abuse of one of her closest friends to make her reconsider. It being so far out of the way and fairly unknown made Mariah a great place for an escape. Otherwise she’d still be in New York, singing in lounges and bars in the evening, working as a waitress during the day. Cliché, of course, but she had been following her heart. Her boyfriend, Marshal, had always been supportive and helped pay bills when money was short. Several times he’d asked her to move in with him, saying it would be easier for the both of them. He was secure in his job as a real estate agent, and fully believed it would be best if she allowed him to take care of her. Several times she refused. When he asked why, she said she wasn’t ready. Really she didn’t want to be taken care of. It sounded too much like he saw her as a pet or some responsibility he’d grudgingly picked up. Having a place of her own, one she held onto by her own means, was more important to her than having a man she could rely on.

Those plans changed the first time she saw the bruises on Amanda’s face. Then her goal was to get her as far away from Daniel, Amanda’s boyfriend, as possible. Jessica and Christine started a joint account where they secretly put money away for a house on the other side of the country. It only stood to reason that Jessica would think of the hole-in-a-wall town Mariah. The town where secrets were plentiful, everyone knew one another, and you knew who was getting laid no matter how hard they tried to keep it behind closed doors.

Christine had been born in New York, grown up shopping in malls with her friends, the top boutiques with her mother, attended the top schools available. She’d lived a privileged life until her 18th birthday, when her parents agreed she was old enough to fend for herself and threw her out with only an account they had set up to help her get started, as well as the words, You can call us, but we’ll never give you more money. It was a cruel lesson for her to learn, the lesson that everything was temporary, and she had to learn to adjust to any eventuality. She’d met Jessica and Amanda in college, the three of them living on the hope that they could survive in a world that was full of cruelties and the harsh reality that so many of life’s cards were stacked against them.

In the hope that she would return to her former socio-economic status, Christine studied business. She wanted to start her own business, one to be determined once she had graduated; wait until it was moderately successful, then sell it at top price before moving on to another. The end-game was to have more money than her parents so she could show them how wrong they had been to force her out, the fact she would actually be proving they were right never occurring to her. What she ended up with was a struggling restaurant that was barely staying afloat. So much for the American dream; or, maybe, that was only for men, as her cynical mind kept repeating.

Being single was, in a sense, another form of revenge. She was in one short-term relationship after another, leaving any time a man showed signs of wanting to be exclusive. The last thing she wanted was to give her parents a son-in-law and grandchildren.

Though she barely had enough to pay her own bills, Christine agreed to help save money for getting Amanda out of New York. Secretly she wanted out herself. There were too many bad memories she wanted to escape. The deal was that the three of them would leave and start over again. It seemed hopeless until an unfortunate lucky break. Christine’s parents had died in a car accident, a head-on collision with a drunk driver. There had been no survivors.

In their will Christine’s parents had left her everything, not that they had much of a choice. She was their only child. It still got her out of the hole she’d ended up in thanks to the loans she’d had to take out along with grants and scholarships, all of which were to not only help in paying tuition, but for books, lodging, and meals until she was able to get her first job.

Amanda had moved to New York as a teen. Her father was a military man who sometimes forgot there was a difference between family and the military. She never cared what his title was. His career wasn’t a source of pride for her, only that he was there when she got awards for her art, attempted acting, and dancing. It was rare, but the times he was there in the audience were the ones that held the most pride for her; the times where he stood and clapped for her with such enthusiasm that she knew, without a doubt, that he was proud.

She was the middle child of three children. There had been a fourth, a little boy; though that was something she wanted to forget. Who would want to remember seeing their baby brother disappearing under a car on the street with only a streak of blood left behind? He’d been dragged for two blocks, the driver in denial that anything had happened until her girlfriend finally convinced her to pull over. Amanda had been 13 at the time. Sometimes she had nightmares of hearing the thump and screams as her brother suffered the pain of being scraped on the road. She often wondered if the screams would ever stop.

In college Amanda met Daniel, a sweet man that had stolen her heart in the first moments of their meeting. He started joking about how clumsy she was; that she was always dropping everything, bumping into chairs, lamps, doorways, and that it was a full-time job taking care of her bruises and scrapes. She’d laugh it off, thinking that she’d never been a klutz in her life. Not until his constant jokes anyway.

Daniel told her she wouldn’t be able to survive without him, that she was too uncoordinated, confused in life, out of touch with how the world worked. He said she needed him to take care of her and keep her on track. It was how he’d convinced her to move in with him, no matter the fact she’d been okay before him.

The first few months had been wonderful, like a dream. Then he began to grow jealous any time she so much as looked at another man. It started with yelling, punching the wall, slamming his open hand down on the table, or a counter; anything that might make a loud noise, anything that would make her flinch while also conveying his anger. It was always followed by an apology and him professing his love for her; that he just wanted to be with her and it drove him crazy when they were apart. All of this was kept secret as she knew no one would understand that it was only because he loved her so much, a statement that was often supported by her parents, his family, and his friends.

The bruises Jessica had seen weren’t the first. They were just the first to not be hidden by makeup or her clothes. By then he hit her at least once a week, always saying he just couldn’t control himself with her. She should have known that he would be angry with her for talking to a male coworker outside of work. He claimed she had all the control and begged that she stop hurting him so much. He piled so much guilt onto her shoulders, guilt that she didn’t deserve.

That Jessica would have told Christine wasn’t something Amanda had considered, not while all her focus had been on trying to convince Jessica that the beating had, essentially, been her fault. She’d been late in arriving home that night. If she’d just kept her promise Daniel wouldn’t have had a reason to get angry. She didn’t realize that Jessica and Christine were working to get her out from the hell she was trapped in. The hell she thought she deserved.

After arranging the funeral for her parents, Christine invited Amanda and Jessica to the funeral, saying she wouldn’t be able to get through the day without them. She and Jessica weren’t convinced Amanda would be there without Daniel, but they still had hope that she would be there. Despite the occasion they were thrilled when they heard Daniel had to leave for a week, having training that was required for work. He was getting a promotion at the store he worked in, a gun shop that required employees know how to deal with dangerous situations, including how to defend against armed assailants. It wasn’t common, but the owner wanted to save money in case of a possible robbery. It was the perfect time for a talk with Amanda.

They chose to wait until after the service before going out to eat, just a private meal for the three of them. There was a new little diner Christine wanted to try. She was friends with the owner, a man she had met in college and who helped her pick out the tropical garden theme for her own restaurant.

As a favor to Christine, the three of them were seated in a private room. The walls were painted dark wheat with simple cherry wood moldings along the ceiling and floor. A black walnut room divider separated them from the entrance. The table and chairs were cherry wood; the lights were aged bronze with frosted glass, a relaxing atmosphere to encourage patrons to stay longer and talk. Paintings were provided by struggling artists that were kept on speed dial in case someone wanted to buy their work.

The conversation was slow to start with Amanda trying to give her support, attempting to get Christine talking about how she was feeling after the death of her parents. Of course Christine was in pain, but it was easier for her to focus on their current goal rather than look at the past and all she’d thought about her parents for forcing her to create her own life rather than just live theirs. If she wasn’t so obsessed with art Amanda would have been good as a counselor, or a volunteer on a suicide hotline.

Almond, Christine finally said, using the nickname she and Jessica had grown to associate with the name Amanda, forget about me for a minute. We need to talk about you.

Amanda was stunned. Why would she want to talk about her? There was something more pressing to discuss.

Christine glanced at Jessica and gave a single nod.

Jessica, taking a deep breath as she tried to compose herself for the expected burst of rage, began, It’s about the bruises.

Amanda was silent before starting to her feet. This wasn’t something she ever wanted to get into. She was okay, she just needed to stop being so self conscious when it came to Daniel. If she could only learn to think of him more, he wouldn’t get so angry. She pushed her chair back with the backs of her knees and reached for her purse, only to have Christine pull her back down. You’re going to listen, Christine growled. This was something she knew they needed to address.

We know Daniel is abusing you—

He’s not abusing me, Amanda shot back; I just need to stop pissing him off.

Christine rolled her eyes and sighed in exasperation. That’s bull-shit, and you know it.

Jessica shot Christine a warning glance. Would he have let you come with us if he hadn’t had his training? The training story wasn’t something she believed, but for now Jessica wanted to get Amanda to think about the situation rather than what he had told her.

No, she answered before quickly following it with, but that’s just because he hates to be without me.

Christine let a burst of air through her lips, creating a puff sound. He seems awfully willing to leave you when it suits him.

Chris, Jessica warned.

Amanda’s eyes burned as she glared at Christine. He needed to go for his job. It was required. There was a warning in her voice, one that promised she would leave if they continued to pursue this subject.

They’re required to call the police, not act as security guards themselves. How often does he leave without calling you?

Chris! Jessica knew they were losing Amanda.

I’m not going to stop. She needs to hear this. Christine turned her eyes back to Amanda. He tells you to call when you go anywhere, even if it’s an art class, and yet he leaves you high and dry when he has a week-long trip that he ‘has’ to make. He’s not only beating you, sister, but he has a piece on the side. Don’t you get it? You’re nothing more than meat to him.

Amanda couldn’t listen any more. Shoving her chair back, she rushed out of the restaurant, nearly forgetting her purse, and leaving Jessica glaring at Christine.

Now we’ll be lucky if she talks to us again. Jessica’s voice was low, threatening.

She needed—

No, Jessica interrupted, "you needed to shut-up, and didn’t. She’s not going to just take our word that he’s an ass-hole that shouldn’t be in her life. She needs to see it for herself and know that we’re here to help her get out."

Both women went silent, not wanting to admit fault, or drive more of a wedge between them. The evening was a complete failure; one they decided was as likely to be salvaged as their friendship with Amanda.

Chapter Two

*

Back at home Amanda thought about Christine’s accusation against Daniel and his true reason for his trip. Could Daniel be cheating on her? She looked at pictures of them together; him just a few inches taller than her, slender, glasses, mousey hair that almost resembled wire threads. He kept his skin tanned so his blue eyes would show even more. They were his most striking attribute, after all.

Her eyes focused on her own image, her ruby lips twisted into a strained smile, a smile that never reached her eyes. Red hair pulled back into a tight bun, skin paler than was healthy. She looked like a ghost, or ghoul.

To be sure of what she was seeing, Amanda went to her studio where she had a few pictures of herself with Christine and Jessica. Since Daniel only wanted pictures of them where everyone could see, she had to keep any other private photos out of his sight. There was no telling what he would do in one of his jealousy spells.

Jessica hadn’t changed in the time she’d known her; still short with white toned skin. Her hair was longer, but her green eyes were still calm and proud like English royalty. Sometimes she almost looked Native American with her round face, prominent cheek bones, the hint of red in her skin, her blue-black hair. She carried her Vanei name with Pride.

Christine, with her dark skin and fierce eyes, always appeared to be the guardian though sometimes Amanda could see resentment in those eyes. She was the tallest of the three, and always trying to set herself apart from clichés. She never cared what color her friends were, only that they didn’t make assumptions. Many saw her anger as the typical attitude everyone expected. Really it was the frustration with the world she’d kept careful control over from slipping free, frustration at her parents for throwing her into the world when they could have helped her get a better education and backing for her career. Amanda knew the whole story. She’d been able to get her to talk, thinking it might help her release that stress, though it didn’t seem to change much. She was still angry with everything.

Her eyes reached her own face in the photograph. The picture had been taken before she’d been with Daniel; before the shame, the beatings. Her skin was vibrant, her eyes glowing with pride as she looked at the camera. Her arms were around her friends, all three of them a tangle of hugs and laughter. What happened? She wondered. Could Christine have been right? Was Daniel really so bad for her?

She shook her head. He’d done so much for her. Was this really how she showed her gratitude; with doubt? Yet there was still the fact he left without any word that he would keep in touch, or even where he was going to be, what hotel or exactly what town. He never called when it came to his outings. Either he wasn’t permitted, or his phone was dead or forgotten. If she gave any of those excuses he would have told her not to go, yell, and even slap her; that is if he hunted her down first. If he wasn’t able to find her, he’d wait for her at home, a balled fist ready to greet her. Why the double standard?

It was the first time she’d thought of the question, where he was concerned. She glanced around in fear as though expecting him to jump out and punish her for the thought. Sometimes he did seem to read her mind.

Getting an idea, Amanda went back to their bedroom. Daniel had left his cell phone behind; his cell which had his boss’ number. It was a basic phone, meant more for business calls. The home phone was for friends and family. Being that Daniel always called him the old cock—never to his face. Losing his job wasn’t something he could risk—it was easy enough for her to find him in the list of contacts.

Looking at the number her hands shook. Was this really something she wanted to do? Was she ready to know? Was there a choice?

Gathering her courage she hit send and listened to the ringing at the other end, both hoping and dreading that he would answer. What would she say? What would she do if she found out he had been telling the truth? She was about to hang up, not wanting to risk the consequences of him finding out she didn’t trust him.

The ringing stopped and an unusually high male voice answered. Changed your mind about taking a full week off?

At first Amanda didn’t know what to do. Was Daniel using his vacation days?

Hello? Dan?

No, she finally said, this is his girlfriend.

Ah, his voice was regretful, I thought he’d be with you in Alaska. He did say he was going there for a visit. Didn’t he get there?

Amanda was confused. Who do you think I am?

It was his turn to sound confused. Who else would you be? You’re Beth… The realization of what was going on struck him full force.

Beth who? Amanda asked, starting to lose control, Beth who?!

He stumbled through his next sentence, not wanting to get caught in the middle of a lover’s squabble. Beth Anders, he spit out after a few attempts.

Amanda nodded, understanding what was going on, How long?

Look, miss, I have nothing to do—

How long?! she yelled.

He sighed, resigning himself to the fact that she would probably keep calling if he dared end the call. Five months. Just a few weeks after she’d moved in with Daniel.

The next time you talk to him, Amanda started, tell him Amanda knows. She ended the call there and sat in silence, unsure of what to do next. Memories of the times when he’d treated her like his queen, the fights, the sweet nights, the beatings and everything he’d forced her into. Tears burned behind her eyes, the first two escaping before she screamed like an injured animal and threw Daniel’s phone at the wall.

She tore at the bedspread and sheets, throwing pillows and lamps anywhere her arms flailed to be rid of their burdens.

Without looking at the broken glass from the lamps, the crushed phone lying on the floor, the cheap pillows with cotton batting spilling from torn seams, Amanda fell to her knees