Mother, May I?

There’s only one rule in this house

At first, Elise had thought Sister Abigail’s rule was just a game, one to teach them about manners and respecting other’s property.

The rule wasn’t something that bothered her or any of the other orphans because living with Sister Abigail was like living with family.

Sister Abigail didn’t lock away the food or scold them if they dared to speak up. She didn’t whip the boys when they broke things and she didn’t shout at the girls for climbing trees.

Sister Abigail never held exhibition days, she never showed them off to potential parents.

Elise had heard her shouting at someone once, behind the closed door of her office. She’d raged that they were children not dogs and ponies to be trotted out and sold off.

Elise hadn’t stuck around because whoever Sister Abigail had been talking to sounded old and grumpy like the people in the black and white movies that came on just before their bedtime.

All Elise cared about was the fact that Sister Abigail had called them her children and for that Elise was willing to do anything the Sister asked of her.

The rule was simple.

Every child over nine was given four keys. One for the bathrooms, one for the kitchen, one for their own rooms and the last for the main doors.

The younger ones weren’t trusted with keys just yet but all they needed to do was find one of their older siblings to get themselves let into wherever they wanted to go.

But before they were allowed to open any door or step into any room, they had to ask for permission.

Mother, may I?

Three simple words and then they could move on.

It hadn’t taken them long to make it into a game.

They pretended that there was actually a mother on the other side of the wooden doors. One who loved them and didn’t hurt them. A mother like Sister Abigail.

The orphanage had four levels and the upper two were empty.

It was a perfect place for their childish games and it made the building feel even more like home as laughter rang out around them even when Sister Abigail tutted at their dust-covered bodies.

Elise loved their games but she also liked the silence that settled over her when she ventured to the upper layers on her own.

She was ten and one of the older children in the orphanage.

She knew that soon the world would want her to leave behind make-believe and imaginary mothers but she clung to the idea as tightly as she could.

As a nun, Sister Abigail could never legally be her mother so Elise created her own mother. One she told her secrets as she walked the dark halls late at night.

And if she pretended hard enough, sometimes Elise could even imagine a voice whispering back at her from the closed rooms.

“Yesterday, Matt fell out of a tree but he didn’t hurt himself so we didn’t get into trouble,” Elise told the air as she walked down the corridor, trailing her fingers along the walls.

“I wonder if…”

The words froze in her throat as she caught sight of something up ahead.

The man hadn’t noticed her yet, too busy trying the doors and terror laced the blood in her veins.

The only adult in the orphanage was Sister Abigail. This man wasn’t supposed to be here and when he raised his head as if he could feel Elise’s eyes on him she couldn’t quite muffle her squeak of fear at the sight of the mask on his face.

She whirled in place and ran.

She could hear him thundering behind her, obviously aiming to catch her on the stairs but Elise slid between the bannisters and dropped down as easy as breathing.

She had no keys for the third floor but desperation had her trying the doors as she heard the man clatter down the stairs.

Tears blurred her vision as her heart pounded against the fragile cradle of her ribs.

Terror robbed her of the confidence that had led her to the upper levels on her own as she twisted the doorknobs of the locked doors.

“Mother, may I? Mother, please,” she whispered, clinging to the only source of hope she had. “Please, please, please.”

The words were barely out of her mouth when the door flew open, sending her tumbling into a pitch-black room.

Elise clapped her hands around her mouth as she scrambled backwards.

She could hear the man trying doors and she shivered.

If he found her, she was sure he would kill her. She was sure of it.

Tears rolled down her cheeks as she shivered, she wanted to be in her bed.

She wanted Sister Abigail.

She wanted her mother.

A ghost of a breath against her nape had her tensing, a scream building in her throat as arms wrapped around her.

Elise clenched her eyes shut waiting for the pain but whoever was in the room didn’t move other than to pull her into a cold embrace.

“Hush, sweet child. Mother’s here.”

Elise’s eyes flew open as the words echoed in her ears and in her head.

The words weren’t enough to block out the sudden screams but the hands that pressed to her ears did.

Just before the shock of it all sent darkness spiralling across Elise’s vision, she had one last thought.

Mother sounded a lot like Sister Abigail.