Something in the Walls

by Daisy Pearce

That’s how Horace, the man who led the group, referred to grief. Sometimes small and quiet and shallow, sometimes a tsunami, cold and frightening. But inevitable, just like the tide.

grief gets heavier the longer you carry it alone is one that has helped me.

Sometimes I wonder how our many-chambered hearts can stand the loss all these years, why it doesn’t simply stop beating. I wonder how the grief can still twist inside you like a stitch in your side when you least expect it.

“Hagstones.” She sniffs noisily and wipes her nose on her sleeve leaving a silvery trail of snot. “To keep the witches out. Witches can hurt you.”

“She watches me through the cracks in the bricks. She’s in there now. That’s why we can’t talk about this.”

“I can tell, else you wouldn’t be asking me about the hagstones. They’re protection, just like locking your door.”

“Because you can’t predict what fear will do to people. You don’t know which way it will send ’em. Some people don’t have the stomach for it and it drives them mad.”

“We choose how much power we give others over us, Alice. Right now, you’re handing over all the power to nothing more than broken glass and bad intentions. You think you’re not in control but you are, you are.”

Desperation makes you inventive, Mina. I just think it’s important you know that.”

“Flounder,” Mina? that internal voice sneers. Sweetheart, you’re going to fucking drown.

I feel that

She changed. It was like watching a Valkyrie rising. Something took over her.”