A Cloud Before the Sun

It was Sheila who first noticed the bulge, when she was trying to fit Elizabeth into a dress that had fit only two weeks before. She turned the girl around, looked her in the eye, and said, "What have you been doing?" After several fits of confusion, Sheila got the vague idea of what had happened, and tried to explain to Elizabeth what it meant.

She thought about that as she lay bleeding. She had been so afraid for Mother to find out. Sheila had known about this place, the abortionist, and helped her sneak out of the house. Mother thought she was spending the weekend with her friend Adele's family. She was still bleeding, though, and it hurt so very much. She wondered if she would die. Sheila had left her, promised to come back for her the next day to bring her home again.

Elizabeth looked to the side, fluttering her eyes open with great effort, and looked at the girl in the next bed. A bit older than Elizabeth, long reddish hair, freckles, she was probably an Irish girl working as a domestic, Elizabeth thought. Her skin was so white under the freckles. The sheet laid over her was mottled in brown and tan bloodstains, with crimson fresh blood staining it anew in far too large a pooling.

As she lay thinking this, the door opened to the room. A man walked in, drawing Elizabeth's attention completely away from the Irish girl. He was short, muscular, intensely dark, with a handsome face. His sharp cheekbones were enhanced with a trim beard and moustache. His skin was of a gleaming sallow hue, as though he were made of aged ivory. His eyes glittered as he looked at them both, the bloodstained sheets and all, and she saw him lick his lips as though he were hungering... she felt a thrill of fascination, thinking she should be afraid, but only mesmerized. The man walked close to her, leaned down, and whispered to her - his eyes catching hers hypnotically - "are you dying, my dear?"

Elizabeth had just moments earlier been wondering that herself. Somehow, though, the sight of the man gave her new resolution to live. "No," she told him emphatically. "I will not die." He seemed to smile with only his eyes, and she felt a passion for him build within her. "Who are you? I .... " her voice trailed off as he shook his head, moving aside from her to the Irish girl.

She watched, somehow jealous, as he asked the other girl the same question, "Are you dying, my dear?" The girl seemed asleep, but she breathed out, "yes...." in a long sigh. The man glanced at Elizabeth. "Close your eyes, child, and sleep." Elizabeth did so, feeling she could have resisted, but that she wanted to do as he asked... she was very tired. She felt she was falling asleep as she heard a groan from the other girl, or maybe it was from the man. Her eyes fluttered open, seeing the man bending to ... kiss the girl's throat, it seemed like, and then she did sleep, and her dreams were filled with him.

When she had awoke, he was gone. She felt bereft, she did not even know his name. She wanted to know - she felt she would die if she did not learn it. The Irish girl lay completely still, and Elizabeth thought, "she is dead." She closed her eyes and slept again, woken what seemed moments after by the familiar voice of Sheila.

"Lizzy? Can you hear me?" Sheila was saying, a tone of fear in her voice.

Elizabeth sat up, aching and weak, but feeling much better despite that. "I am not deaf. Of course I can. Could you help me up?" She took Sheila's hand and stood. Sheila looked somewhat amazed, but also pleased. She helped Elizabeth change into the fresh clothes she had brought. Elizabeth looked over at the bed where the Irish girl had lain, but it was empty now; only the bloodstains remained.