My darkness shows me the light. My madness keeps me sane.
~ Me

"You're it!" the little boy from across the street yelled. His sister chased him around in circles till they both fell to the ground laughing loudly.

I stood in my bedroom watching them play through my window. I watched them and wished I could be as carefree as they were.

It was a hot, sunny day like it always was in Bellsville. Walking over to my bed and sighed as I laid on it. My eyes focused on the cream paint that coated my bedroom walls. I fixed my attention on the stars my dad had drawn on the ceiling for me when I was a little girl, he used to tell me each star was different and they all held their purpose, just like each person in this world. 'Everyone has their one fairy tale all you have to do is believe' he would say.

I believed that for the longest time until I realized that it was all big lie. What is the point of living if we were all going to die anyway? As kids, we are taught to believe that everything and everyone has good in them, that every situation has a silver lining but what we weren't told is that life is painful and agonizing.

We are poisoned with the notion that everything will work out for the best. We are trained to expect the best, but not the worst and those of us who manage to see through the lies we're being fed are regarded to as damage or lonely or my favorite... broken.

We are unwanted and silenced like our pain isn't real, like our suffering is all in our heads.

I'm not usually this depressing, I don't normally contemplate the meaning of life every day but today is the anniversary of my mother's alleged death. I say alleged because there is no proof that she is dead. My mom and dad's relatives threw a party every year on this day in honor of her. She's been gone for 9 years now.

I thought the idea was utterly stupid; we are supposed to mourn on this day not wear fancy dresses and plaster the biggest smiles on our faces. It didn't feel like we were honoring her, it felt like we were celebrating her death.

Nonetheless, I still went to the parties and pretended I was happy because my dad forced me to go, he said I could decide whether or not I wanted to go to the parties when I turned eighteen, and since I'm currently still seventeen I'm stuck going to the stupid party.

"Abigail, it's time to go get down here!" my dad yells. This year the party was being held at my grandmother's house. She is the only one that agrees that the party idea is idiotic, which made me wonder why she agreed to it being held in her home.

I got up from my bed and walked down to the living room. My father stood in the middle of the room; he had on a black tux that looked expensive. He'd tied his long jet black hair into a bun. He smiled at me although he wouldn't admit it I knew he hated the party as much as I did.

His blue eyes are dull usually when he was happy they twinkle, they haven't twinkled since mom was taken.

He looks down at the outfit I chose, and his smile disappears. "Must you wear a black dress?" He questions. He looked annoyed; I always wore a black dress to the parties.

Everyone else wore bright colored dresses; the kind people wore to fancy events. That's what disgusted me most about the parties, the people there didn't even show a single ounce of sadness. They were all smiling and laughing like my mother's memory meant nothing.

Wearing black was my way of showing my hatred for the event. If I had to go to it, I'm determined to let everyone know that I didn't want to be there. "I'm not changing dad, besides you're wearing black too," I said, gesturing to his tux.

He frowns at my response but says nothing. He walks out of the living room, grabs the car keys and leaves the house. I roll my eyes inwardly whenever he's mad at me he gives me the silent treatment for a while. It's not like it made much of a difference he didn't talk to me whether he was angry or not. He'd become distant towards me and only me.

I sighed, grabbing the house keys I stepped out of the house, locked it and walked towards the car. I hopped into the car, and I find my father glaring at me, I snorted if he thought a glare was going to make me rethink my choice of clothing, he'd have to try harder. He mumbles something then drives off. Grandma's house wasn't so far from ours. She lived in a mansion on the outskirts of Bellsville, it was beautiful and surrounded by trees.

When I asked why she lived in the middle of nowhere she would reply, 'I like being around nature' that, of course, is a big lie. My grandma hates anything having to do with nature; I think the only reason she lives so far away is cause she wants to be away from the town. She doesn't like the towns people. After her daughter, my mother was kidnapped, she'd made that very clear.

I close my eyes and try to relax. My mind drifts off to The Magician of Bellsvilles. He called himself that, I've read over a hundred articles and blogs about serial killers and sociopaths because of him. I wanted to understand how someone could do such evil things. He's been around for a long time; he would kidnap his victims and send pictures of him torturing them to their families and then finally he would cut them up and send part of their bodies to the police. Sometimes he'd rape his female victims before killing them.

He always left an item from a magic show as a clue, but the police always found out what it meant too late, but for some reason he never sent the body of mum to the police, he sent us pictures though, but not a body. I knew all of this cause my dad is part of the police force; he didn't keep his case files very well. I've read almost all of them; I've analyzed every picture he sent to the families, I've read his background so many times that I know it word for word.

I've explored every inch of his psychotic, twisted mind. I have become consumed in his dark game; I knew he killed for fun, everyone is just a piece in the sick chess game he played in his head. "Abigail we're here," my dad said. I open my eyes and step out of the car. You'd think I would have gotten used to how big Grandma's mansion was, but I still stare in awe every time I see it.

It easily towered me. I inherited my mom's shortness much to my dismay. I've received countless amounts of dumb nicknames and jokes because I'm four foot five. The peach coating of paint shined in the hot summer sun. I walked towards the door, my dad behind me. He rings the door bell; the giant black door is opened by Matthew.

Matthew King is my best friend. We've been friends since forever. Matt is my other half; he's the only one that understands me. He's seen me at my worst, and he still accepts me for who I am. When my mom was taken, he was the only one that didn't leave me. He stayed when everyone else left; it's tough to find friends like that.

Matt had brown curly hair that I found extremely sexy. Beautiful forest green eyes, gorgeous pink lips that made girls swoon when formed into his signature smirk. Matthew is broken just like me, his family isn't the best, but it's not the worst. "Hey Matt, you got stuck on door duty again," I said with a huge smile. Like me he was forced to come to the parties and he always got stuck on door duty.

He nods and sighs dramatically, "Yeah, how you holding up hot stuff?" he asked. I didn't know how I was holding up, up till now I hadn't focused on any other emotion, but my anger and I couldn't say I'm angry cause I'm always angry, that and I'm not mad anymore.

I didn't know how I was feeling. I didn't feel anything.

"Honestly Matt, I don't know," I mumbled. Matthew frowns slightly, "That bad huh?" I nodded. "Well I'm here now, I promise to you happy or annoy you," he said with a big grin. I giggled, I turn and notice my dad is already gone. "We should probably go join the party," I said. Matthew nods and leads me to the living room.

As I enter the living room, I resist the urge to hit someone. There is nothing here that had to do with my mother. They hadn't even put a picture of her; I feel my anger rising by the second. I leave the living room and head to the kitchen. The kitchen was huge. It is my favorite part of grandmas house because it had floor-to-ceiling glass windows which gave a beautiful view of the forest.

I take a deep breath; deciding I want some water. I grab a cup from the cupboard and get the jug filled with water. Matthew walks into the kitchen looking frantic; he probably guessed I was mad and thought I was going to do something stupid, "I knew you would get mad. I'm sorry I should have warned you," he apologizes. "I'm all right," I said curtly I didn't want to to talk about it. I just wanted water; I pour myself a glass of water and look at the window, admiring the view. I see something unusual, I looked closer and noticed it looked like a person. Walking closer to the glass, I squinted my eyes so I could see who it was.

My eyes widen, the glass cup I'm holding falls out of my hand. It was him The Magician. I've analyzed all the sketches of him my dad brought home. It was him, I'm sure of it. My father walks into the kitchen looking anxious.

"What happened Abigail? I heard something break," he asked I could tell he was angry but I didn't care. This is the only chance we get to find the bastard that took my mom away from me. Matt is about to speak, but I cut him off, "I saw him dad, The Magician. I saw him," I said. I expected my dad to be happy that he would finally find the person that put him through so put misery but he glares at me.

"This is not the time for your nonsense Abigail," he said, " I'm not in the mood for your crazy ideas. Stop talking about your mom, stop taking about that murderer. Stop acting stupid, she's gone accept it." I felt my heart shatter into a million pieces; he thinks I'm crazy just like the rest of them. Tears burn in my eyes. I did the only thing that seemed smart at this moment, I ran. If he wasn't going to catch that monster, then I would have to do it myself.

I ran out of the kitchen and towards the figure I saw. As I get closer, I see it is him. I wasn't seeing things, I wasn't going crazy. The Magician beings to run and I picked up my pace. I wasn't going to let him get away not this time. I hear Matthew screaming my name, but I didn't care I wasn't turning back now, The legs begin to hurt, heart beats faster. My chest is burning but I'm not going to stop, I ran into the forest after him.

He wasn't getting away. I think of the nights I spent crying and hoping some way, some how my mother would return to me but she never came. Suddenly he stops and turns to look at me. I stop in my tracks looking back at him. We stare at each for what seems like an eternity then he disappears.

He vanished into thin air. So many questions ran through my mind, was I going mad? I knelt on the ground and cried, I didn't know what else to do. I feel I droplet of water touch my face, and I look up at the sky, "Is that the best you can do! You can't break me!!" I screamed tears streaming down my face. "You can't break me because I'm dead inside, you can't break me cause I'm already broken," I whispered lowly.

Something collided with my head. I fall to the ground, everything went black.

Maybe I am crazy after all

Author's Note

What do you think?

I dedicate this chapter to

isolated_idiot thank you for believing in me and my book. You're a true friend.

lizdark101 thanks sis for helping to build my story. Without you I don't think I would ever written it. I LOVE YOU BABY SISTER 💝

@kiyyah_4 her novel gave me the courage to publish my book.

he_he_  thank you for all your support without you. I probably wouldn't have pressed the publish button.

To my cousin Kome without her chapter would have had a shit load of errors. Thank you for going through it with me.

Thank you Olivia453 emilymorgenstern31 bubblegum_2020 bicklepickle  Mendesgotsass simbaze Olga_GOA