CHAPTER 1
Elsie
In just one moment—one thoughtless, irrevocable moment, my entire world was turned inside out. It should’ve been the end of my story, but thanks to the brothers of Satan’s Fury, it was just the beginning.
My life had never been what you’d call easy. It seemed I was always fighting an uphill battle of some kind, but one way or another, I’d always found a way to manage. It was a talent I’d acquired from my parents. Neither of them had a college education, but they’d worked hard to provide a good life for my brother and me.
My dad was a longshoreman and worked countless hours loading and unloading the ships that came into the port. He did fairly well for himself and tried to convince Mom that she didn’t need to work, but she never listened. In fact, she often cleaned three or more houses a day just to make sure they had enough to cover the bills and put money into savings.
Together, they gave Brantley and me everything we could want and more. I couldn’t imagine things being better, and then, everything fell apart.
My brother had just turned fourteen when they discovered he had a life-threatening brain tumor. Even though they didn’t have good insurance, they refused to let that stop them from getting him the best care and took him to every specialist they could find. The bills started piling up, and it wasn’t long before they’d drained their entire savings and were living solely on credit.
Even after everything they’d done, my brother was only getting worse.
The tumor continued to grow, and after months of praying and hoping, it finally took my sweet brother’s life—leaving my parents with no son and a mountain of bills we couldn’t pay.
My parents were devastated. Mom sank into a deep depression and could barely manage to work, cutting back to one house a day and sometimes none at all. Meanwhile, my father had struggles of his own. He went to work every day, but he was a shell of the man he once was. His smile and bubbly personality had all but disappeared.
I wasn’t handling Brantley’s death any better than my parents. I adored my brother, and it nearly killed me to lose him. While I wanted to crawl into a dark hole and die right along with him, I could never do that to my parents. They needed me, and I intended to do what I could to be there for them the way they’d always been there for me.
Money was tight, especially with Mom cutting back on her houses, so I got a job at a nearby movie theatre. I figured I could help out with the bills and, hopefully, alleviate some of their stress, but the bills just kept rolling in. Even after selling off most of our belongings, we were barely able to keep the lights on.
But we kept trudging along.
Day by day.
Month by month.
And just when we were getting back on our feet, tragedy struck once again.
I’d come home from working the late shift at the theatre and found them sitting side by side on the sofa, nestled beneath my mother’s favorite blanket. At first, it looked as though they were both sleeping, but something didn’t feel right. Neither of them were sound sleepers and always woke the moment I entered the room, but they both remained eerily quiet.
I walked over to the sofa and gave my mother a gentle nudge as I whispered, “Hey, Mom, I’m home.”
She didn’t move, so I shook her again—harder this time. “Mom! Wake up!”
Again, she didn’t budge. Frantic, I turned my attention to my father and gave him a firm shake as I cried, “Dad! Please wake up! Dad!”
I called 911, then immediately went back to shaking and pleading with them hysterically. Neither of them responded. I couldn’t understand what was happening and started searching for some kind of injury but found nothing. As I continued to try to wake them, my head began to pound, and I started to feel dizzy. Suddenly, I felt the heat of Dad’s space heater radiating against my ankles.
That’s when it hit me.
It was carbon monoxide poisoning. I quickly unplugged the heater, then rushed around and opened all the windows, praying it would be enough to bring them back.
It wasn’t.
When the ambulance finally arrived, the medics rushed inside the house and started asking numerous questions, some of which left me feeling like I was at fault for what had happened. I answered them the best I could, then stepped back and let them try to help my parents.
I felt like I was in a nightmare, unable to move or speak. I just stood there, watching as they started doing chest compressions, breathing into their mouths, and using a defibrillator. I could hear the beeping of the machines and the paramedics shouting instructions to each other.
The minutes felt like hours as I watched them work. I wanted to help, but I was too scared to move. I just stood there, praying that they would be able to save my parents. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, one of the paramedics looked up at me and said, “I’m sorry.”
My heart sank as I listened to his partner say, “They were too far gone... There’s nothing more we can do.”
With that, they loaded each of them onto a gurney and covered them with a white sheet. Seconds later, they ushered their lifeless bodies out to the ambulance and closed the door. Before pulling away, one of the medics came over to me and asked, “You got someplace to go?”
“What?” I muttered.
“A place to go?” He glanced back at the ambulance as he said, “The cops will be here any minute. They’re gonna have questions, and one of them is gonna be whether or not you have a place to go.”
“I don’t know.”
“I know this is tough. I’m sure you weren’t expecting something like this to happen to your folks.”
Fighting back my tears, I replied, “No, I wasn’t.”
“You eighteen?”
“No, but I will be in a few months.”
“You got someplace you can stay until then?” When I didn’t immediately answer, he pushed, “A grandmother or aunt and uncle?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, you best think of something.” Concern marked his face as he told me, “Cause if you don’t have a place, they’ll find you one. And trust me... You don’t want that.”
Before I could respond, a cop car pulled into the drive. He gave me a quick nod, then whispered, “Good luck.”