Inferno Soul

A troubled teen named Melody struggles to find her inner self on a life changing quest regarding her true identity after her parents tragic death. Misfortune and disaster follows the girl everywhere she goes making it hard for her to trust anyone she comes in contact with. She learns of the horrible secrets and deception that has clouded her judgment for many years that her family kept dormant; now as the girl starts to realize everything is not what it seems to be her life is filled with hatred, anger, sadness & doubt. Will Melody find peace not only within herself, but in the world surrounding her?


....Sometimes you take destiny into you own hands, and determine your own fate...

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8. A Little Family's History

Chapter 8: A Little Family’s History

 

I informed the sheriff, Charles Smith of my assumptions that caused my family’s horrible tragedy. Everyone in the town knew of my father’s infidelity, and alcoholic infatuation. The sheriff told me everything was put in place, and I had to move on the other side of town to stay with my uncle, (dad’s younger brother) Marcus Jack. I never really knew my uncle Marcus, but somehow I knew he and my daddy were estranged siblings.

 

 

Daddy had three siblings altogether, there was John, Henry, & Marcus. John was the eldest, Henry was second to John, my daddy James was the middle child, and Marcus was the baby of the family. Why they put me with my daddy’s side of the family, I had no idea, not even a clue.

 

 

My grandmother and Grandfather; Tina and John were happily married for fifty years. Legend has it my great, great, great, Grandpa Osiris Jacques were the first settlers of Jack Town in 1806. The town was called Ville Le Jacques then. Wow, I’m glad they fixed the name. There weren’t too many settlers in the 1800’s who found this land to be resourceful. The Natives who owned this land fled after a horrible disaster.

 

 

My very great gramps found a girl in a hut, they called her Inui. Inui was about seventeen years at the time with no family, or friends. She learned to speak some French, and Osiris learned some of her language. The town folk gawked at her stance, and shape. For she was beautiful, and healthy and strong. Inui later came to call herself Terra. Her and Osiris married, and bore six children.

 

 

There were three girls and three boys. The first set were twins, a girl and a boy. Their names were Sairiah, and Jariah. The third child name was Osiris a very healthy boy. The fourth was a girl, Isabella. The fifth child was a boy Marques, and the last child was a baby girl; her name was Esa.

 

 

Legends and rumors spread throughout the land acclaiming Inui (Great gran Terra) was a spirit worshipper. People were claiming to see her perform healing rituals, or magic to heal the sick herds, and people. Gramps didn’t believe in hocus pocus fairy tales. He was more of an idealistic man. Inui told a very old folklore that haunted the Native folk of her villages. She, herself was of a royal bloodline of the Arikara tribe.

 

 

The legend spoke of a lady who possessed mystical powers from the abundant earth. She even gathered her powers from the realms of the underworld, and as far as the celestial world. They knew her to be Shira. Shira believed in reincarnation, and she believed life was a balanced cycle that occurred over and over again. She believed we all had many lives and we always seemed to bring along with us; items from a long line of lives we lived prior to our existence of now. She told fortunes and was supposedly blessed with a gift and a curse. She could see the future, past, and sometimes the present. But she could never see anything that dealt with her own fate. Shira lived in that land legend has it for two thousand years. Locals here still believe she roams this place, and she never died.

 

 

Something unfortunate occurred. Shira was murdered by a chief from another tribe. His name was Tihun. Shira and Tihun had an affair, and Shira despised the fact of her mistake. She didn’t want to see Tihun anymore, but he begged and pleaded his love for her. Tihun was the chief of a tribe called, Hidatsa.

 

 

A war was raging between the two tribes, for many years now. Before she died she cursed Tihun, and his children, and all of his bloodline who were born after him, to become slaves of the darkness and scourged of the light. The curse was known as Ekimmu. The curse was efficient enough, but somehow when death struck Tihun’s family, other strange phenomenon occurred. Tihun was the first to transform into the darkness. He scurried away into his own despair, grief and shame. Once Tihun’s people learned of his wickedness he was exiled from their lands. His wife was pregnant with his son Little-Paw, and she was disgraced of his infidelity.

 

 

Tihun left that place, and a few months later Little-Paw was born. His mother, Red-sky (Nunka) complained through the rest of her pregnancy. She acclaimed an incubus, or night devil haunted her in her dreams. He tortured her, and drank her blood. Little-Paw was very strong, even in his earliest of stages. Once Little-Paw reached the likeliness of his manhood, the trouble began.

 

 

My Uncle

 

 

Living with my uncle was hard enough. He pretended I wasn’t there at times. It was almost like he wasn’t my family at all. I was just happy someone was taking me into their home. Marcus had no wife, or children. Well at least he never talked about them.

 

 

I had to prepare to attend my parent’s funeral that Sunday. I grieved most of the time, feeling like I wanted to give up. All I wanted to know is why my mother or father never brought me around any relatives? To think about it, I rarely saw any cousins, grandparents or aunts and uncles. We really lived in a remote place anyway, there wasn’t people around for miles.

 

 

I couldn’t understand how I had all of this family, but I never got a real chance to meet them. It was only when both of my parents died, I had a chance of reconciling all of my loose ends with them.

 

 

Sunday approached, I really couldn’t remember ever visiting any other funeral before. I didn’t know how to react, or what to expect. I had to sit in the front row, where the people passed out all of the programs and service information. I was really gloomy, and heartbroken, but yet I felt as if I were an obstacle for many.

 

 

Many of eyes roamed my way, looking at me, gesturing me to run towards their open arms and give them a hug. Well mother had told me to be careful who I trust, and everything isn’t always what it seemed to be. I cautioned everyone’s motions, even the people that walked behind me as I went to my parents’ caskets. Weird jewelry and broaches were worn, weird ceremonial setting. I didn’t feel the need to weep at this forsaken place. I turned away from their cold hard faces with no life in them. I did not want to remember my parents that way. It didn’t feel right to me.

 

 

I ran outside to where the cool wind breeze hit my face, and rain began to fall. I was all alone in this cruel, hateful world. It was so sad that I had to learn about misfortunes, and people’s true intents that young, but what is the saying, “It’s better sooner, than later…’’ I felt the emptiness blanketing my spirit, nighttime approached, and like never before I witnessed a solar eclipse. Wasn’t that odd? My parent’s funeral was on the same day of an eclipse? The darkness invaded, and I was open to failure. My uncle swept me off of the steps of the church, running inside with everyone else. The necklace I wore was different, and even in that eclipse it shined. Marcus told me to hide it, and never let anyone touch it.

 

 

Time was moving at a slower pace now, and though the time slowed; I grew at a steady pace. I was now twelve years old. I was a little taller, and more awkward looking. School was getting more hectic. Sixth grade had arrived. I was having more questions about my life, and about my body. That necklace I wore my daddy embraced. Yet he never told me about it before. This time everything was a blur.

 

 

My daddy was secretive when I think about it. Nearly six years had passed since my parents’ death. It seemed like yesterday all of the chaotic troubles turned my life. I learned something different about my uncle Marcus, he seemed to come at a complete abrupt in his schedule. It seemed something scared him, or frightened him deeply; and it shadowed my spirit. He was almost the same way as my father was right after my mother fell ill. I didn’t want to believe something was happening to me all over again. It seemed like trouble was a natural scent that I wore. I just wanted to start over clean.

 

 

Too many voices I heard whispering through Marcus’s walls. They spoke of horrible things, of the nightmarish past Marcus and his family had created. I looked at the pictures on Marcus’s wall, which showed a place where his grandparents lived. The house had eyes that roamed from the distance, looking down from the hill that many lives were lost. I researched a little on my own about the town my ancestors inhabited the land before any settlers had arrived. One thing I can say about my uncle is he very seldom spoke to me or anyone of that nature. But somehow I felt rather distant from my uncle, I kind of felt like tension was there from a childhood of rivalry that he and my father had created.

 

Marcus didn’t have to tell me he really didn’t care about me I could feel the vibes from his presence. When I came home from school Marcus was rarely around. The house was vacant, but the refrigerator was moderate. He kept TV dinners, and cereal in the house whereas I could fix my own meals. I kind of liked the independence Marcus gave me, but I still hungered for the love and attention that I had with my family once upon a time. I didn’t want to approach Marcus for any advice because he rarely spoke to me. I thought of the things he said to me the whole while I lived there. I could probably sum up one hundred words at least he spoke to me. It was his look, and his demeanor that was unclear. He was a very mysterious guy.

 

 

One day in particular, in the scorching hot summer I asked him could I visit my nana’s house. He totally flipped the switch on me, I knew he was a jerk, but I wasn’t expecting him to freak out the way he did. Marcus was on his way in, when I asked him about her, I had told him how I missed her and I wanted to see her. Marcus rarely let me out to go places, I felt almost like a prisoner. Certain questions or topics he tried to avoid like my parents and such. Marcus was quiet but he seemed on edge for a bit. His face almost exploded, his look was absurd and he told me to forget about it. If he was referring to it as me going to my nana’s house he was sadly mistaking. Marcus had no control over me & her, she was as close to me as my mother. Nana was the only person left on earth that I completely trusted, and I loved her dearly. I felt for him to try to stand in between us was completely selfish and mean. He wanted to entrap me because he had no one else in his life that came near him.

 

 

Marcus had youth within him that was not only frightening, it was ridiculous. I know he was the baby of the family and all, but it was something different about his youth. From the time I moved with Marcus, ‘til now, he hadn’t aged one bit to me and I found that strange. I mean six years might’ve not been a lifetime, but come on I wondered what gave him that time. And might I add, no pictures of him as a child in photo albums, or there wasn’t any pictures on the wall of him. I looked for a picture of my family, but nothing. So then another weird topic came up about family portraits, and this is when the drama really started to rise. Marcus was drinking coffee at the bar in his dining room. He looked surprise to see me after I sulked days in my room from his cruel response about me visiting nana. So I then ask him why there weren’t any photos or family portraits that gave details on his life; and my family. The cold hard truth was going to stay hard and cold because Marcus got up from the stool and found his way into the front room.

 

 

But I picked, and plucked him until I received a decent answer from him. He then told me about a house fire that Henry accidentally started. He told me mostly everything burned in that horrible fire, and a lot of sentimental valuables burned as well. Afterwards the family saw no need for portraits, and they never took anymore. It was a sad story, but still I needed to know the truth. I was tired of feeling lost for myself, and I wanted answers. I knew Marcus was the only one who could give me some type of history because no one else would, and he was kind of like all I had. Marcus turned to me, unsure how to approach all of my inquiries that poured from my mind. He then told me questions open up things that were buried a long time ago, and that’s where it should stay—he wanted no more questions from me. All I wanted to know why wasn’t he honest about the smallest little things. Why were there so many secrets and unanswered questions surrounding my family and me?

 

 

 

The Truth Shall Set You Free

 

 

The middle of the summer had arrived, and Marcus response was still about the same about visiting Nana. I needed to know something, it just made me have even more antipathy towards him. He stood his ground so I knew there wasn’t any more convincing I could do to change his mind. So I knew what I had to do, it wasn’t going to be easy but it was worth a shot.

 

 

 I was going to visit my nana on my own; with my own will in mind. Marcus seemed to not understand the way I truly felt about her, and I wasn’t going to let him stop me from seeing her. She wasn’t even at my mother and father’s funeral, which seemed extremely odd to me. I knew my nana and mama weren’t on good terms before my mama passed, but still she was her daughter. I had to know why she didn’t attend the funeral, did she even know about my parents tragic deaths?

 

 

But before I made up my mind completely about running off a thousand plus miles to see my nana, I pondered around once more. I had to know about more, my parents deed to our home, and all of their personal belongings—where’d everything go? Marcus was at work when I decided to snoop around. One place I failed to look was in my uncle’s room, and he always kept his room door either shut or locked. But I also know he hid a spare key in the restroom under his sink in a little container. A good hiding place, but it wasn’t good enough, because I’d found where he hid all of his spares. I hurried to retrieve the key, sweaty palms and shaky hands looking at the time. I only had an hour to do my meddling, so I knew I didn’t have much time; and I didn’t know what I was searching for.

 

 

As I entered into Marcus’s room, it was very different. It was very ravishing, I had no idea he had a little taste in style. But it was still cozy, yet appealing to the eye. His colors were red and black, safe but bold. Still no family portraits, or pictures of himself nowhere to be found. I went into his closet, where the same symbol as my necklace; was sealed on an old brown box. But when I reached for the box, from the corner of my eye I noticed something else. I noticed a stone tablet. It was very ancient, and relic. Some type of symbol that reminded me of the necklace I took from my dad.

 

 

Now this was the third time in Marcus’s house I noticed this symbol, was it a family’s emblem or signature? I grabbed the stone, and I grabbed the old wooden box that was sealed. I was now anxious, and very suspicious about Marcus in a sense that was horrid. My intuition led me to his room, into his closet where artifacts and emblems laid dormant. I felt as if I disturbed something that was ghostly, carvings and a form of cuneiform script was embedded around this old box. When I tried to open the box, I couldn’t because it was locked, but I saw no seal. I then examined the box once more to search for a keyhole—still nothing.

 

 

So I searched in the closet for some type of clue, something to help me unravel the mystery of the box. Behind all of Marcus’s possessions was a wall that echoed my knock. It seemed fairly thin, but to my surprise it could slide open. This man had so many hiding places it seemed unreal. There is where a book resided, and I saw the emblem again, this time on the book. The book was old and musty, very poor condition. And this wasn’t just an old book, this book looked like it was the first book ever created—I mean the book just seemed that old. A picture was underneath the book, I would’ve never saw it unless I removed the book.

 

 

Finally, I was relieved. I knew the picture would’ve told me something, it would have gave me a little clue. The picture was old itself, in a poor condition; but it was my chance to see what Marcus was so secretive about. I observed the photo, and what I saw was unbelievable. I saw Marcus, and my father along with the other people in the family that I had no clue about. But what I didn’t understand is why did Marcus look the same age back then as he does now? And as for the others, Henry, and John were older as well and not children? None of them except for my father James? An older woman and man stood at the very end of the picture. It seemed very strange indeed. The house they stood in front of looked familiar to me, but I still didn’t catch it. I was boggled, where had I saw this house before? Then something else I saw was odd, not only was Marcus age a problem, but he also wore a charm that resembled closely to the necklace my daddy had. I took the necklace out of my pocket, and here it was the very same charm from the past. The last thing that made my heart tremble was the shocking date, September 17, 1897.

 

 

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