Darkness Will Come to Light [1]

I. Summer Sadness

Trigger warning reminder: self-harm

~*~

"Lift up your eyes, discouraged one. When you feel like giving up, when they say it can't be done, it's up to you to show them why they're wrong..."

Memphis May Fire's Legacy played into Melaina Jackson's ears as the brunette walked nearly two miles from her house to Forks Cemetery. It was a daily occurrence that not only kept her in shape throughout the summer, but allowed her to escape the confines of the suffocating house that she was raised in. She arrived at the gates of the field of the departed and took in a deep breath before sliding her iPod into her front pocket.

Melaina smoothed her olive green skirt with a shaking hand. Her other hand grasped a bouquet of her mother's favorite tangerine-tinted orchids. The sky showed no sign of clouds--an unusual occurrence in northwestern Washington--so the sun beat down on Mel's dark hair as she walked through the cemetery.

In her autopilot state, Melaina quickly arrived at the newly covered plot of land that had become her place of sanctuary in the last few weeks. Kneeling in the dirt, Mel placed the bright flowers in front of the marble headstone. She read the words engraved in the stone and her mind:

Elizabeth Rochelle Jackson--
Beloved Mother, Wife, Daughter, Friend
Always Loving, Always Loved.

"Hi, mom." Her soft voice wobbled. "I miss you." Melaina turned her gaze to the ground and found a small round stone, which she placed on the flat surface of the headstone. "I love you." She settled down on the earth's floor and began to recite her day to the wind.

Like her mother, Mel had bright green-grey eyes and long coffee-colored locks. Life changed drastically after Elizabeth passed away from a recurrence of breast cancer. Jeremy could not stand to look at his fourteen-year-old stepdaughter without the reminder of her mother and the fact that he was stuck with Mel until she turned eighteen. His drinking gradually became worse until all the anger and confusion bottled inside started to come out--in the form of physical abuse.

Mel could not control the fact that she had inherited a good portion of Elizabeth Jackson's looks and personality, so it made her angry that he punished her for it. Melaina was used to the emotional abuse that came with the marriage between her mother and Jeremy. He was not one to show, or even feel, many emotions himself, so he twisted that around to affect Elizabeth and Melaina.

Melaina purposely left out the negative details when she spoke at her mother's grave. She didn't want to hear the words that proved she wasn't lost in a dream world. Her mother was truly gone, and so was Mel's hope for the future.

~*~

After visiting her resting mother, Melaina entered her house cautiously. She slipped off her well-worn galaxy Converse and kicked them onto the mat. The front door clicked loudly as she turned the lock, which caused her to flinch when the clanking and banging of things in the kitchen began.

Sighing under her breath, Mel walked down the front hallway. As expected, her stepdad pounced the moment she stepped into their modern kitchen. Mel paused to grab a slightly bruised apple off the counter and waited for the onslaught that would surely follow the man's drunken glare.

As Jeremy Jackson became more and more of a prison guard than a patriarchal figure, Melaina's depression at the loss of her mother deepened.

"I told you to clean the house!" her stepdad of ten years raged. His tall frame paced the tiled floor in misdirected anger. "I do everything for you, and you are such an ungrateful child. I lost my wife, and you seem to expect me to adhere to your every whim? My friends say that you take advantage of me. You embarrass me."

Melaina chewed on her bottom lip and waited for him to finish. He turned his angry eyes from wandering around the kitchen to her carefully blank grey-green eyes.

"I always put you first, and how do you repay me? You go out with that weird friend of yours. You party all weekend when I should lock you inside until you finish your chores."

It was one thing for her stepdad to yell and rant and degrade Melaina, but when it came to her friend, she was extremely protective. This strong characteristic caused Mel to speak out when she was wise not to. "Sav is not weird. Leave her out of this. You don't know her."

Savannah Myers had been Melaina's best friend from the first day that they met in elementary school. Sav was beautiful and kind, and as Mel started to change from the inside out when her mother passed and her stepdad became physically abusive, Sav and Mel's friendship became strained.

Melaina swore that she would protect her best friend from anything. Including herself. She did not want her negative aura to affect Savannah's positive personality. Mel pushed Sav away to keep her safe from darkness and depression.

At her defending words, Jeremy was around the island counter and in her face within seconds. His rancid breath made Mel crinkle her nose in disgust.

"What did you say to me?" He didn't wait for a response before he continued. "This is exactly why you need to be disciplined! You are disrespectful and lazy. I work and work to provide for you. Then you think it's okay to talk back to me?"

Melaina stayed frozen. "Answer me!" her stepdad screamed. He made a move with his hand, which caused Mel to flinch in anticipation of her stepdad's slap to her face. He reached for a can of beer on the counter behind her instead.

"What do you want me to say?" Mel whispered. "You don't listen to me. You never have."

Melaina wished that she knew of a time where she felt her stepdad's love. He ruled the house and was the voice of all. Mel learned at an early age to keep quiet and leave before the screaming started. If he did yell before she could escape, Melaina would dig her nails into her palms to distract herself from the onslaught of words.

When Elizabeth passed away, Jeremy reacted the opposite to Mel's expectation of a grieving husband. He hardened his heart and soul against human decency, and Mel felt the impacts of that change every day. She hurt, inside and out. Yes, he lost his wife, but she lost her mother. Her flesh and blood. Her world.

Melaina wanted to be just like her mother when she grew up. She learned to bake pastries at the age of three and never stopped trying to perfect new dessert recipes. It was a passion that she had recently lost interest in. One of many hobbies.

Her bitter stepdad took a swig of his alcohol and announced in a loud, angry voice, "You're grounded. Go to your room!"

Mel turned on her heels and fled to the only place in the world that was hers and only hers. She locked her bedroom door and with a sudden wave of clarity, she moved with a heavy heart to her bathroom.

Inevitably, after another verbal fight, Mel itched in her own tight skin. She needed a release from the numbing anger.

Slice. Slice. Slice.

Melaina was once innocent to the ways of self-harm. Middle school was a time for adolescents to learn about themselves and society around them, and Mel found out that cutting skin was a release unachievable by any other method.

Melaina suffered enough from her newly abusive father, but this was different. She didn't have control of much in her life anymore, but she knew that she held the power over her own self-inflicted pain.

This was different from other kinds of pain. This was control. She did this to herself, and she had the power to take control of her own life.