“I am terrified by this dark thing
That sleeps in me;
All day I feel its soft, feathery turnings, its malignity.”
― Sylvia Plath
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Arabella never imagined this life, in this cozy little Bight woods, with those women. She had been sure she would leave in a day or two after she had come to her bearings. She thought only that when she stayed with these women. But two days had become twelve, which became months.
She just couldn't walk away. These people had become her safe space. In the overwhelming, screaming darkness in her head, they were like a small blink of light.
The rogues and misfits had become Arabella's home and haven. They lived in their seclusion, finally finding some peace that had been unaccessible for them before, for various reasons. They had all been abused once, b
