Glass House

A heavy, thick black surrounded Samantha as she lay there, head pounding with a fierce headache. As she sat, voices caught her attention; even though they were whispering, they were quite loud.

“Don’t you think she’ll make a wonderful addition?” squealed a woman’s voice, high-pitched and breathy. The click of dishes being unloaded punctuated the silence. “She’s just darling! I can’t believe he convinced her to come to the car.”

More clicking. Metal rattled. Pipes began to squeak and water ran.

“It was more his persuasion, really,” said a new female voice, this one louder and a bit deeper.

“By persuasion you mean his looks?” asked a male voice.

Samantha slowly pulled herself upright, wincing at the flaming in her shoulder and squinted into the darkness, which was so thick it was like trying to see in molasses. The bed—or what she assumed to be one—creaked under her weight as she scooted to the edge, bare toes brushing the floor. It was icy to the touch and she immediately pulled back.

“You won’t be able to get out, if that’s what you’re trying to do.” There was a whoosh of movement, the bed shaking fiercely, and then a light flooded the room with a warm, yellow glow.

She yelped in surprise.

The boy in the front of her was tall, towering above her. His hair was wildfire, unbrushed and untamed, cascading well down his back and nearly swallowing his angular face. His dark eyes, nearly pitch-black, focused on her and she noticed the dark bruises on his face, the scrapes.

“W-where am—”

“You’re home. That’s all you need to know.” He was still staring at her with a blank expression.

“Ash? Is she—oh, you are! How wonderful!” The woman with the high-pitched voice was very pretty—grey-blonde hair, a robust figure, freckles—and she came bouncing in wearing heels, making her breasts bounce too (although Samantha was pretty sure it was unintentionally). “I’m Justine. Oh, you’re too cute!” Justine reached down and pinched Samantha’s cheek.

“W-what do you want with me?” the girl stammered, her lip trembling as she struggled not to start bawling. Her shoulder was burning more now, having not taken kindly to her waking up, but she kept all her focus on the two people before her.

“Oh, why aren’t you the cutest thing—” Justine was reaching down again and Samantha pushed herself back with her legs, hitting the wall behind her. Her shoulder flared. “What do you want with me?” she asked again, more forcefully.

“She’s a spitfire for sure,” said the redhead, glaring down at her.

“Sure is. Now, sweetie, we’re here because you’re something special.”

“Special?” Samantha’s shoulder was on fire, heat seeping out now, burning, nearly bringing her to tears.

“Yup. Something about your energy. Sage even said so.” A huge smile pried Justine’s pink lips apart, showing off white teeth.

“M-my energy?” It was getting hard to focus.

“Her shoulder…”

Justine glanced back at the boy. “I’ll go get Emma.” She rose gracefully, giving Samantha a face-full of cleavage in the process, and hurried away, the click-clack of her heels fading away into the distance. Silence fell across the two of them like a blanket.

“Ash.”

“Huh?” Her head whipped up.

He was standing there, staring at her still but it felt like he’d gotten even closer, invading her space.

Samantha’s face flamed.

“Ash. That’s my name. Yours?” He was bobbing his head slightly, like there was music, and his face was getting closer and closer, his black eyes filling her vision.

Blood pounded in her ears. “Samantha,” she whispered, feeling the ghost of his breathe brush her lips.

He smelled like hot, wet earth after a rainstorm and sweat. And then he was straightening up. “Part of the family,” he muttered, taking a shuddering breath, and nodded to himself.

“Ash?”

He swung back around.

“Why am I here? What happened?” she asked in a rush of determination but he simply stared her down.

“Part of the family,” he repeated.

“Now, honey, I know you want to know but, trust me, you’re better off knowing.” Justine was back, a little blonde girl with tiny shorts in tow.

Ash barely looked up from Samantha.

“The only thing I know is that I was kidnapped.”

Ash and the blonde girl looked at each other for a moment and then he walked out, his footsteps heavy with every footfall.

“This is Emma. She’ll take care of your shoulder.”

Samantha scowled. “I want to go home.”

Justine laughed. “Oh, darling, this is your home.”

“I mean with my aunt.” Samantha clenched her jaw.

“You mean the aunt who’s dead?” The woman’s smile never left as the cold words stabbed.

“D-dead?” Hot tears flooded Samantha’s vision as she stared in disbelief. This lady was crazy; bat-shit crazy. All of them were.

“I know it—” Justine began soothingly.

“You’re lying,” Samantha argued darkly.

Justine’s surprised eyes met the girl’s.

“You’re lying. My aunt is alive. She isn’t dead. You people are crazy. She’s the sheriff and she’ll come looking for me with the entire police department.”

“Here.” Justine handed her something. A newspaper.

The headline read SYLVIA BLOOM FOUND DEAD, AGE THIRTY-FOUR. TURN TO PAGE 3 TO READ MORE.

“Liar.” She threw it at Justine’s head.

“The paper doesn’t lie, dearie,” the woman said sadly.

“Get the hell off me!” Samantha snarled. She was tired of the games; she just wanted to go home!

She kicked out a leg but Emma, who’d been standing quietly behind Justine the entire time, wrapped an arm around the busty woman and shoved her out of the way. Samantha lashed out with everything, kicking her legs as she struggled against the freakishly strong blonde.

“Calm yourself before I make you,” she suggested in a cheery voice as she wrapped skinny arms around Samantha’s middle. Their cheeks brushed and Emma smirked, turning to face Samantha.

“Get off, you crazy bitch!” the dark-haired girl screamed, trying to shove the skinnier girl off.

Her hand wrapped around Samantha’s windpipe, fingers biting in, squeezing slowly more and more. Emma’s face wavered, black spots rising to her vision, and then the weight was gone.

“Ash!”

It was the redhead again, holding Emma by the back of her shirt.

“Get off! Get off!” the blonde shrieked, kicking her legs as he turned and dropped her flat on her butt.

“No.” His voice was cold and dark.

Samantha gasped for breath, her throat burning as she scooted away.

These people really were crazy.

And she was stuck in the middle of it.