𝑪𝑨𝑴𝑷 𝑵𝑰𝑹𝑽𝑨𝑵𝑨 ─✞涅

𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐩 𝐍𝐢𝐫𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐚 - 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟓

涅

"Cajsa, how about you?" asked Johnny.

"Oh, I don't have any birthmarks," I replied swiftly.

"What about on your hand?" he said, motioning to where I was sitting on them.

"Is that why you always wear gloves?" Frances quipped, a look of realisation growing on her face. "Come on, Cajsa. We won't judge you even if it's ugly. I just told you about my permanent crumb stain! I bet yours isn't nearly as bad."

"I don't have any mark," I said, knowing this wasn't a lie. "My mum never told me stories." This was also not a lie, but I felt a cold jolt in my stomach as I wished that it was.

Shen was sitting close enough to me to notice the large plaster on the inside of my wrist. I don't know exactly what was going through his head, but he thought it would be a good idea to grab my glove and yank it off.

I gasped. "Get away from me," I pleaded, but he couldn't understand me. Oblivious, he grabbed my arm and brought it towards the fire to see it clearer. The plaster was in full view. I squirmed under the grip of his hand. He ripped it off. Amber light flooded over my skin.

It revealed a hand with the ring and middle finger missing, and on the palm, a vile tattoo. The two fleshy stumps where my fingers used to be were mostly healed, but the tips remained a washed-out pink colour which made the white thread stitches easily visible. A crescent moon had been engraved on my skin beside two arrows forming a cross shape in washed out black ink.

It was blotchy – ink dots had been injected carelessly in blank areas, and the scars were still wildly inflamed. I tried to detach myself from Shen's grasp, but he was much stronger than me, and I struggled pathetically for a few seconds before Frances and Johnny had seen it. But then they did.

Frances' dark eyes widened. "I know that symbol."

I felt my legs tremble and my heart ached until my stomach hurt and I collapsed to the ground, head spinning.

"What? What is it?" asked Johnny, not understanding the weight of Frances' discovery.

"Please, don't say anything!" I begged. My voice cracked and I sounded as if I was on the verge of tears. "You're my friend! You're my friend. You don't have to. You can – you can pretend you never –"

She interrupted me coldly. "Cults use that symbol for human sacrifices,"

Tears stung at my eyes when I remembered how I'd promised my father to keep our secret.

"You were in a cult?" Johnny asked, astounded.

"It's satanic," Frances said, suddenly feeling vulnerable, disturbed, and beginning to shake.

"You worship Satan?" Johnny asked, the realisation dawning upon his brow.

"No, I would never do something like that – I never wanted –"

It was no use. The boy who used to be my friend stared down at me, on my knees in the dirt, as if that was exactly where I belonged. Frances shut her dark eyes tight and muttered a quick prayer under her breath, as if asking for forgiveness in advance.

When she opened them, she ordered Shen to hold me down in Mandarin. I screamed and kicked as hard as I could, but his body was made of stone. Sometimes I wonder if she had simply told Shen I was a murderer, but whatever she had said, it had worked wonders.

Her hand forcefully found mine and she gripped it with the strength of angels. Her silver ring raked into my skin and left a raw, red line.

"Cajsa, you have to understand that I'm doing this because I love you." she said.

"No," I whimpered under the boy's weight. "No, no, no,"

"I'm doing this to save you," she said again. Her voice gave away some of her anguish but her stance beside Shen, who was pinning me down into the rocky ground, remained steady.

"Let me save you from eternal damnation, and you'll stand beside our Father in the Holy Land." she said, her eyes flittering shut as she briefly pictured the glorious sight.

"Heaven isn't real! Once you kill somebody they're gone." I gasped, writhing harder. My own words shocked me into realising that that might be exactly what she intended to do. For a brief moment I saw the outline of Ingemar before the fire, walking away from me down a dark corridor, his head of sandy-white curls glowing under the lamp-light as he turned the handle of the door to the boy's dormitory and slipped inside.

Even though I couldn't see his face I knew he was at peace, but the thought of joining him made me feel sick with fear and I cried out, "Johnny! Help me, please!"

My shrill voice echoed through the trees, disturbing the tranquil sound of the leaves swaying in the breeze.

"Get me the penknife." Frances commanded. Johnny obeyed quickly.

I had felt this feeling of utter helplessness only once before in my entire life. It was the day I'd strayed too far from the boundaries of the estate where I'd been raised.

Priest Svartträ had made an example of me; the punishment was to lose two fingers in front of all the other children.

Frances' voice brought me back to the present.

"You poor creature," she said, inspecting the stumps. "We can't cut off her wrist before dealing with that heinous tattoo," she said softly, to herself or to Johnny I don't know.

"It will come off easily, don't you worry." she breathed into my ear. "You will be saved from damnation,"

I was now heaving out laboured sobs and my face had swelled up red. But not even my terrified expression could touch her heart. "Let me go, let me go."

She snapped the pocket knife out of its pouch and lined it up parallel to the crescent moon tattoo. I felt the cool, smooth blade pressed up against my vein and begged incessantly for her to stop. When I met her on the first day of camp she wore a sheer white sundress and a floppy straw hat. Now she was going to butcher me.

She dug the pointed side in. I think it must have been the noise I made when she did it that turned Johnny. He grabbed Frances by the shoulders and flung her aside with an audible groan.

Shen's clasp loosened and his eyes, although still reflecting an image of the raging fire, were clouded with worry for his saviour. I scurried out from underneath him, slung my backpack over my shoulder and ran from the precipice, trying my best to block out Johnny's agonised screeches echoing behind me.

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