I awoke with a gasp, and this time I truly was awake. Yet again, I heard the crickets, but that was all. I dove under my covers for the rest of the night.

"Mary Belle," Daddy pleaded the next morning. "Sweetheart. Say something." Over breakfast, he claimed he had heard me talking in my sleep. "I heard you, baby. Please. You must speak. It's me, your loving Papa."

I took a pencil from my awaiting school supplies and wrote on a napkin.

I'm sorry, Daddy. I'm trying.

He looked at the note with tears in his eyes. "I know sweetheart. I know you are. Please try harder. Please get better."

After school, I headed over to the Carter's as I had for the past three months. Betty answered the door when I arrived.

"Well, Mary Belle! I haven't seen you I awhile. I've missed seeing you little one. Please come in!"

I looked deeply into her green eyes to insure it was in fact Betty before following her upstairs. There, we looked at her scrapbook of Hollywood movie stars."

"I'm going to go to Hollywood one day. Won't that be swell?"

My smile was broken as I heard Nancy coming down the hall, apparently yelling at her poor mother.

"Can't wait to get away from that one," Betty said under her breath before Nancy stormed in the room.

"What are you looking at?" She screamed at me.

"Listen here. You leave her alone, Nancy," Betty shot back. "She's just a little girl."

"Well get a load of you. Look who thinks she's all high and mighty."

A moment later she said, "Ah horse feathers. Who needs you? I have important things to do. Grandma is taking me for a new dress, so there." And she stormed out. A few days later we learned what the dress was for.

"Grandma's making me the queen of her club," Nancy gloated. "See that? I am special."

Of course I knew what it meant, but later that day, during the garden club, it was confirmed. Nancy, and Betty Laverne were again absent, this time with their mother; the three were sent to a matinee as a surprise from their grandmother.

"Ladies," the old lady began. Today I will read to you from the book of rituals. When we commence our ceremony one week from today, we must adhere to everything the Book of Hecate has to say. Let me make that abundantly clear. To do so, will usher in an age of peace, and abundance, and an end to this war. Any misstep, and we shall find ourselves at the mercy of the goddess."

And so she began to read. For my part, I passed out sandwiches, and tea as I had for weeks on end.

Sacrament.

Sepulcher.

Rite.

They were all words I had heard in Sunday school, although as a child, I didn't really know what they meant. The final words, however, I recognized, and I knew it wasn't good.

Human sacrifice.

I couldn't help but flinch when I heard it, causing the teacup I was carrying to rattle on its dish. A guest, a severe looking woman looked at me.

"Are you absolutely certain this girl cannot hear a word we are saying?" She asked aloud.

"What are you squawking about," asked another.

"This girl they say is a deaf-mute. Are you certain she's not listening to us?"

"You are paranoid. That child hasn't spoken a word since my daughter's been looking after her," barked the old lady in command.

"Well, let's just see about that," said the first. They placed me in the center of the room. What were they going to do to me; having seen the pictures; having heard about the ritual. I was terrified. I stood there looking around, still unable to speak. I prayed a long-awaited scream would not find it's way out of my mouth at this given time.

"Turn her around," said my naysayer. "Let's see what she does."

Somehow my gut told me there was about to be a loud sound. Luckily I was stood rigid in fright when the heavy book slammed on the floor.

"Did you see it? I think she flinched."

"No she didn't."

"I saw it too."

I felt a scream bubbling up in my throat again. I was mustering up the strength to beg out loud for my life when the old lady, Mrs. Carter's mother, spoke up.

"Hogwash! The girl doesn't know what's happening. She's frightened do you see? And that book on the floor. She probably felt the vibration that's all."

She tapped me on the shoulder and shooed me away in an animated manner. I never ran out of a room so fast. It was the closest I've felt to death in my life, even in my elderly age now. But I digress. Back to my story.

I recall a great debate that day in the parlor. Some of the women protested that a lamb, or a chicken should be used; not a human being.

"Nonsense," spat the old lady. "We have to adhere exactly to the doctrine. So it is written, so it is done."

But. But. But. There were many, all of which were shot down by Mrs. Carter's overbearing mother.

"But the chosen one is too bitter."

"Hecate will never accept such an offering."

"That girl is simply too sour."

"Now, now, ladies. I know my granddaughter isn't the warmest soul on the planet. Betty is fine, but Nancy is the eldest, and must be chosen. According to the ancient ritual, we must have she whose birth comes closest to the equinox, even if it's only by a few minutes, that is Nancy. Why, I consider it a great honor to have Nancy as our choice. She, and only she is to be the Foxglove Queen. Besides, we will be satisfying the goddess, and doing our community a favor at the same time. My word is final."

The next day at the Carters was eerily quiet. I was left alone with the maid, while Nancy, Betty, and their mother were out. When the maid was busy, I snuck down the hallway towards the parlor. I couldn't help but sneak one last look at the thick old book that had played such a prominent part in the garden club.

Once again, I couldn't make out the strange writing, but I did take in the pictures in all their horrific glory. The portrait of the Foxglove Queen was just as intricate, and beautiful as I had remembered from before, only this time I saw her sinister undertones. Turning the page I recognized the steps of the ritual.

The queen would enter a circle of hooded figures. She would disrobe to full nudity. With arms above she was to lie on a table, wherein the hooded figures surrounded her. One by one they took a turn plunging the dagger into her. Blood oozed down her flaccid arm and into the cup. The carving of a circle appeared on her stomach in the next scene. In the next, the plate was filled with a mysterious mass, until I realized it was the entrails of the queen. The next drawing showed the hooded figures drinking, and eating from the plate.

Somewhere in the kitchen the maid dropped a pan. I leapt from the chair. My heart raced. I looked back down at the book, and turned the page. The final pages were elaborate, and in full color. The first, in shades of violet, and blue showed the Foxglove Queen lying barren and naked on the soil of a fertile garden, a full moon behind her. The final picture showed the same garden, but instead of a moon, it was a huge yellow sun with its rays highlighting a beautiful tree growing from the ground where the queen had been.

The night of the equinox came faster that I'd expected. Daddy picked me up from the Carter's early. They had told him they were having guests for dinner. He had more work to do, so I found myself playing in my room as he worked downstairs. That's when I heard the crying.

"It's not supposed to be this way," I heard Nancy say. "Please, Mama," she begged.

"Nancy, there's nothing more I can do," her mother cried back.

"She's your mother, for God's sake!" Nancy yelled. Then, "You're a coward, Mother! You always have been. I hate you! I hate you! I'll see you to hell!"

I never thought I would feel for Nancy, but in that moment I did. A lump formed in my throat as I held back the tears. After all the terrible things I knew Nancy had done, and was capable of, even she didn't deserve this.

"No." I heard myself yelp quietly. It was the first word I'd spoken in months. Nancy had taken my gift of speech, and now -for a fleeting moment- she gave it back.

The sobbing, and wailing lasted an hour. I went down for dinner with Daddy. A radio played softly in the other room to break the silence. I wished I could speak to him, but I was afraid even if I could I would have to explain what triggered my speech.

I walked to our living room as Daddy retired to this home office. At the front window I watched them arrive. Car after car the ladies of the garden club arrived. I watched Mr. Carter leave with Betty too.

"Have a nice dinner ladies," he said cheerily as he got into the car.

I lie in bed that night staring at the ceiling and listening for signs next door. I hear them all. I could make out the first chants. By now, they would be surrounding Nancy. Next, I heard the tambour of Mrs. Carter's mother speaking in low tones, followed by more chants. I steadied myself for the silence, but instead, I heard a great commotion. I ran to the window just in time to see a naked, and bloodied Nancy running through the garden.

"No! She screamed. I will not go!"

Her pale skin was electrified by the blood streaming down her legs. "NO!!!" She screamed, running down the path, and through the garden gate into the alley. Three women ran after her, two still wearing their robes while the one in front tore hers off.

I heard Nancy continue to scream "No! "and "Help me! Someone call the police!!" Her screams faded in the distance as she seemingly got away.

An hour passed. The house next door was silent. All the cars remained, leading me to believe they were still there, awaiting word on Nancy's fate. Around ten o'clock , I spotted the red lights of a patrol car coming down our street. I could hear Daddy still working downstairs. I ran to his bedroom window. There, in the pale light of the street lamps, I watched as the old woman got out of the squad car, helping Nancy, now covered in a brown blanket, to get out.

"Thank you officers," she said. "I'm sorry my granddaughter was a nuisance. I'll be sure to tell her doctor about this incident when she goes back to the mental hospital," she lied.

"Please," begged a clearly defeated Nancy. "I'm telling you the truth. She's lying. You've got to help me."

"She'll be fine once I get her back on her meds, officers. Thank you for the lift home."

Nancy's grandmother helped her into the house, still begging, still pleading. The two officers looked at each other. I saw one ring his finger at his ear in the sign that the girl was crazy. They chucked before getting back into their car and driving away.

Quickly, I ran back to my room. The voices were coming from the garden now. Just as I'd seen the pictures in the heavy book, the scene unfolded. Nancy stood naked in the circle, a gag around her mouth, and arms tied behind her back. One by one the hooded figures chanted, and passed the dagger, gleaming in the moonlight around the circle. I watched as Nancy doubled over in pain with each jab. Finally, she fell to the ground where the mob encircled her. I knew what happened next. I couldn't bear to watch.

The whole ordeal was over by the time Daddy came to tuck me in. He gave me a sedative in response to my edginess and kissed me on the cheek. I faded into sleep quickly that night.

Spring came early that year. The grass was greener than I'd ever recalled. The war was over, and families were getting back to their daily routines. Business had been kind to Mr. Carter, and the family moved away to the suburbs. Daddy had found a top speech therapist that was helping me find my voice again. I was up to a few words by June.

One Saturday, Daddy took me to the Bijou where he spotted a familiar face. Mr. Carter was there, accompanied by Betty.

"Why little Mary Belle!" She said. "I haven't seen you in so long, sugar! Why look at you! Aren't you just a little lady now? I smiled and looked down at the ground.

Papa continued to talk with Mr. Carter, asking about life in the suburbs. I admired the beautiful teenager before me. Her curved body, her clothes, her shade of red lipstick. Those beautiful green eyes. I focused in on them as she turned to me, looked down, and began to smile. The little brown birthmark that gave away her true identity.