I shook my head as I walked down the streets of Brockton Bay. It was the light of the mid-afternoon, but it felt as if I was walking in darkness anyway. It had been almost a month since the locker incident and when everything was said and done it looked like nothing would be happening. No punishment, not even a stern talking to, nothing. Just pay the bills and in exchange, we hush up. It was a deal we had to take, but it was also a deal I hated.

It didn't help that ever since then I had had this… feeling, like there was someplace I really needed to be or some appointment I wasn't keeping. It was why I was wandering around now. I just couldn't seem to find what I was looking for. I had stayed close to the boardwalk most days, but today, today I was walking through the docks. The grim atmosphere seemed to coalesce around the place and the sight of a decently dressed teen drew eyes, but I didn't care.

For the first time, it seemed I was getting close to the place I was looking for, so I kept walking almost in a daze as I made my way through the narrow alleys and the twisting side streets. Just as I was worried I was getting lost I saw a shop. It was a small thing sandwiched in between two rundown and most likely abandoned tenement buildings, but the shop its self was pristine with not a speck of trash on its section of the sidewalk as if it's very presence ensured no such thing would happen. 'Morland's' read the sign on a post beside the door.

I walked in, though I didn't realize it until the bell was already ringing, my feet having carried me without my input up until then. The store was poorly lit and what little light there was seems to be fighting for every inch of the ground it can manage. Behind the counter sat an old, grey woman looking weary with age. The plack next to her reads "Miss Morland" and she looks up as I enter. "Oh my, is it really that time already? I thought I might have longer to rest. It's no matter though, hello Taylor." she says motioning me over on the last line.

"I normally make it a policy to not ask my clients names, but you're a special case I suppose. Your mother wasn't my usual sort of client." She held up a hand before I could speak. "Yes I knew your mother and yes perhaps I might talk of her one day, not today though. Today you are to take this box." She said grabbing a small black wooden box from behind the counter and dropping it unceremoniously onto it."You are to take this box and you are to head straight home. Don't open it until the sun has left the sky and don't try to come back until after you should."

she said then sighed. "Of course you could also burn the box and everything in it, that would probably be for the best. You won't though. I know your type, they're the only ones who ever make it to my shop. Restless and angry the lot of them. Unhappy with what they have, so they strive for more. I digress. Take the box and go home, Taylor. When you are ready to come back, or give this up. The choice is yours. Truly it would be best if you never opened the box." with that she sighed again and turned back to her newspaper.

I tried my best to catch up with what was going on "You knew-"

She ruthlessly cut me off. "Go home, Taylor. Look in the box. Then you may come back and ask all the questions you want." she said all this swiftly never looking up from her paper.

I was at a loss for words, but I knew that no matter what if I didn't leave and return later I would never get the answers I sought, so without another word, I walked out of the shop and suddenly found myself on the boardwalk. I turned around and found that the shop was nowhere to be found and I was left alone holding a wooden box. I decided it was best to think of this later. Once I was home and in relative safety and so set off towards there.

When I made it, I hopped over the rotten first step and made my way inside. Noticing the lack of dad made me sad for a bit before I remembered how many days of work he had missed between me being sick and fighting with the school. "Of course he's at work. You're not the only thing he has to worry about." I scolded myself making my way upstairs. I sat the box on my desk. I wanted to open it right away, but something told me to listen to Morland and wait until the sun went down to even consider opening it.

What did she say? "It would probably be best if you just burned it?" why would she say something like that? I was pretty sure the box must be from my mother as she brought up her first then the box, so why would she want me to get rid of it? I sighed resolving to open it the moment the sun went down, so I could get my answers.

"Taylor, I'm home." Came dad's voice from the ground floor. It was later and the sun had dipped over the horizon, but long orange strains of light were still fighting to stay visible. It wasn't time yet, but it was close I could feel it in my bones. It seemed that with every minute closer to darkness the world came the more of my attention the box demanded.

"I'm just upstairs," I shouted down not really paying attention. It was so close to dark now. Just a little longer.

"How are you feeling?" He asked as he came up the stairs. They moaned with each step. This house was sick.

"I'm feeling better today actually." It was true I was feeling better then I had in a long time in fact. Answers, I had answers, they were right in front of me. I just had to wait just a minute more. Finally, the last bit of the light was forced out by the night and pushed under the horizon and for a single moment all I could think was, "I can open the box now.' part of me wanted to leap across the darkened room to that dark box, but I also remembered the warning. 'It would probably be best if you just burned it, you won't though.'

Could it be true? If I threw this into the bay would I be better off? Maybe, but I was tired of not knowing, tired of being so lost, tired of being so alone. The box seemed to offer solutions to all of this, but it also promised finality. To open it was to do something you can not take back. I somehow knew if I opened the box I would never be the same again, That on some fundamental level I would be changed.

I didn't care, I longed for something and somehow I knew that something was sitting on my nightstand. I rushed over and took the lid off. It offered one moment of resistance one moment to turn back and then it was off. Laying in the box, obviously on top of the other contents, was a letter and the first word on it broke my heart, gingerly, reverently, I picked it up and began to read.

Dear, Taylor.

If you are reading this then I have died. I'm so sorry that I have left you. I am so sorry that I could not turn away. I often said I was a strong lady and it was true, but in this, I simply did not have the will. I turned away for a while, I got a boyfriend, then a husband, then a family, but the longing was always still there and once everything settled again into a routine I was left with nothing but time to think. I thought about my decision a lot before I made it. I decided that I wouldn't abandon you even if that made it more likely I would be discovered.

It was due to the likeliness of discovery that I also chose not to involve any of you. To you, I wished to be an English professor and nothing more. That way no one would have any reason to go after you. There are rules to this game, not many, those rules are important. The biggest one is don't involve the uninvolved. As such, I was reasonably certain in your safety. There are those who break the rules of course, but I would never be able to claim you were 100 percent safe.

Regardless this is all immaterial now. I am dead or perhaps I am merely imprisoned in the deepest darkest hole available. Which one doesn't matter, you will never see me again.

That you got this letter and therefore the box it was inside means that you are affected by the family curse. At least one of us every generation will be unsatisfied. We will not know with what and it will not come until the previous person afflicted has passed or becomes unusable. You likely feel suddenly out of place and I'm sure you got this box from one of those out of the way corners of the city. I'm sure you walked around for hours looking even if you knew not what for.

Taylor, you have found it. This box is what you were searching for and if your reading this it's already too late to tell you to turn back. In this box is a necklace, wear it. In this box is a book, read it. In this box is a contract, sign it. Once you do these things you will officially start on the path that we all walk. I hope you will reach its end. You are beautiful Taylor, but if you make it to the end, you will become so much more.

I shall leave you with two pieces of advice.

1. You are not alone. The family's curse comes with a gift. You now have a guide with you and it has seen all that has come before. It will never lie to you, but you should also never put your full trust in it.

2. Draw the curtains, white the wall, bleach your hair, paint your skin, and dream of passion.

Sincerely,

Your loving mother.

I read it again and then twice more. The more I read it the more, well it didn't make sense, but it sort of, hanged together. As if some part of me was nodding along as I read.

I search through the contents of the box. There was a book titled 'Traveling at Night. Vol. 1', there was also a necklace of some sort of creature with wings. Finally, there was a thick stack of paper stapled together. On the top, it said, 'Ecdysis Club Dancer Contract.'

My dad has always said to read a contract before you sign, but this was from my mother. Surely it was safe. After signing it I put on the necklace and opened the book. It was only then I heard the knocking on my door.

"Taylor?" It was my dad again, lucky he didn't sound panicked, just concerned.

"Yeah I'm here, sorry just got a little absorbed in reading," I said it wasn't a lie after all.

"Oh alright." the worry drained out of his voice. "I brought Pizza today. I figured since you go back tomorrow…" He trailed off not wanting to upset me. "Anyway, I figured we could watch a movie."

I thought about that. Normally I would have likely declined. My relationship with my father had been deteriorating for quite some time, but it was only now that I realized how much that was my fault as much as his. Sure he hadn't offered to spend much time with me for a while, but it's not like I could say any better. We had both lost someone we loved deeply and neither of us had known what to do. Then instead of helping one another we both simply fell into our own holes of self-pity. It was time to fix that. Putting down the book before really even reading it I opened the door with a smile on my face.

A broken man with broken toys, perhaps we can teach him to fix them.

A voice seemed to whisper it into my head as I looked at my dad. I Faltered, but oddly only for a second as I seemed to simply accept that this had just happened. What was that I wondered, but it wasn't the panicky kind of wonder one would expect from such a thing. Instead, it was more of a curiosity. Something of interest, but not of importance. I shook my head and smiled again.

"Sure dad," I said giving him a hug as I made my way down the stairs.