I was in prison for 10 years. I was in my eighth year when my wife died. She was all I had left, even if we didn’t sleep together. I learned later on that my house was being sold since no one would be there to care for it. I knew I would have nothing to do, nowhere to live when I got out of prison. But I remembered Emery. The poor peculiar kid who was supposed to be stuck in a house with the dangerous Tabitha.

The last year I spent in prison I vowed everyday that I would save him. I had no idea what Tabitha had done or was going to do but I knew that Emery needed saving.

When I got out of prison, I went to the holding place where they put my belongings from my sold house. Luckily I had a little suitcase. I quickly shoved the few clothes I had in the case and gathered what else I could,

I didn’t have much money but I had enough to pay for a taxi. There was a place I needed to go. A place that I had memorized the address for years ago.

Emery’s house.

When I got to the house, it looked the same as it did over a decade ago when I had first met the boy. In my mind he was still just a little boy. Small and inquisitive. However when the door opened, I saw a teen. A boy nonetheless. But far bigger and more mature than I was expecting. Emery was sort of...pretty, I would say. He looked like some sort of princess. A damsel in distress. Except he wasn’t in distress. He was cold-faced. So...a damsel who’s depressed maybe?

I was relieved to see him in one piece. Supposedly unharmed. I had to argue with him a bit for him to let me stay there but eventually I was in. At the time, I did not think anything of the implications that would come with a grown man like myself barging into and forcing habitation in the house of a minor. All I thought about was being there for Emery and helping him.

We talked a bit before I started snooping in his house. To look for answers. I was curious about why I didn’t see his parents or his nanny.

“Emery,” I started, hesitantly.

The boy looked at me with those cold amber eyes, still standing near the door. He let out a sigh before responding,

“What?”

“Uhh, where are your parents and Tabitha?”

“My parents...dead. Tabitha...gone,” he spoke softly, he had lowered his eyes to the floor.

When had his parents died? Also Tabitha? When had she left? I realized that not only had I pushed my way into the house of a minor. I had pushed my way into the house of an orphan living alone. I suddenly felt like it was very wrong for me to be there. But even though I felt uncomfortable, I still had a mission.

“Oh...okay,” I say, and turn, heading up the stairs. I wanted to find some evidence of whatever evil Tabitha had done.

I came to a room that looked like it must be Tabitha’s. It was lightly decorated with boy band posters on the wall and pink flowers painted around the closet and door frame. It was also the only room with the door closed.

I got to work. I looked through every inch of that damn room, hoping to come across something. He looked up and down, side to side, back and forth, over and over again for hours. Nothing.

Until, I saw that the full-length mirror on the was shifted ever so slightly. I was angry at myself for not noticing the crooked mirror earlier. In prison the other inmates and I used to hide things behind mirrors and pictures all the time.

I hastily popped the mirror off the wall and that’s when I found the photos. So many photos. Photos of horrific things that I hadn’t even imagined would befall Emery.

I decided at that moment that I would do everything to make those bitches pay for what they’d done. The first step was telling Emery what I found. Then I planned to call the police. After showing Emery the photos I could see a million thoughts racing through his head. I could feel the anguish radiating off of him.

I had to do something now. I took my phone out of my pocket and started dialing 9-1-1 when Emery snatched my phone fast as light. Damn is that kid fast. I looked at him in confusion and he stared back, eerily calm. He explained that he had a plan. A plan to make the bitches suffer.

A part of me wanted to use my authority as an adult to just call the police anyway but a bigger part of me was thrilled. I was glad he brought it up first. I wanted to make them suffer too. But, I wasn’t sure I knew how to go about it. Emery definitely did. He had a plan that was simple in a way. Simple but dark. Violent and cunning. Risky. If we were caught it could easily look like it was all my idea. I mean, Emery’s just a kid. I’m a grown man who is also a convicted-felon.

I liked his plan. I wanted to participate. But I wondered what such a twisted idea would do to the mind of a young boy if carried out...