Part one

I can remember that night but I can barely recall what happened after that incident which has changed my life. That terrible thing I did and all the decisions I took before I’ve committed that crime… I can’t say that I regret them all because they made me the human being I am today.

Early in that night, before the evil even began, I took my long, red coat from the hanger –it was a very elegant coat- and I dressed up as I stared at my shoes. I grabbed a biscuit from the extended table which was settled against the wall and I poured some water into a glass, as my hands were shaking madly. I didn’t want the biscuit nor the water but I felt an emptiness inside me and I had to fill it with something.

“Nice speech, Ruth,” said a woman, approaching me.

I nod hesitating to look in her eyes, instead I noticed how she was rubbing her sweaty palms over the trousers. An awkward silence settled between us as she kept rubbing her hands over the material. She made a grimace as she started searching for something inside of her pockets. I set off but her hand snatched my arm making me stop on the spot. I could feel her emotions and how nervous she was. She let my arm fall down and blurted out stiffly:

“I mean it, Ruth Otthild.”

I faced her but I didn’t stare into her eyes. She had got a pale face, big eyes with a clear blue shade which could make me quiver every time I was trying to look into them, and she also had tremendous bags under her eyes. I couldn’t give even a small glance at her sickly face.

She got out something small from her pockets and handed me a golden coin. It was a coin which assigned that I’ve been clean for thirty days. I nod as I took it without saying anything. The hollowness I felt made me ashamed and how hard I tried to look at her and said something, I just couldn’t and I left the NA meeting without looking back.

The cold air was stuck in my lungs as I started breathing swiftly, inhaling the air deeply inside me. It was a chilly autumn night almost midnight. I was walking on the side street even though I knew it was a bad choice because my yearning and my emptiness was getting bigger.

I let the full moon shine the way but its rays created these dismal shadows and the fog which was braided with my legs and it didn’t make it easier. My lust was so strong that my glands started secreting so much saliva – which I swallowed – that got me sick. I had a growing craving. I wanted to throw up the biscuit and the water I had at the meeting.

I got myself back on the main street of the plaza from our small town. I knew exactly where I needed to go to stop my urge. The Appeasement. I turned right and I continued to walk until I arrived at our famous bakery which we were so proud of. The lights were turned off, but I still could see the main shapes inside. I put my fingers on the window and started staring inside of the bakery, drooling and shaking. I could see the cupboard and my eyes were fixed on it for several minutes.

I got myself together, I woke up from the daydream and I looked around me. Nobody was on the street. I checked my wristwatch and the midnight hour was long gone. I grabbed a rock and without thinking twice I smashed the window and it clicked. The glass was shattered to bits on the floor.

I got inside fast as I felt the bits of glass crumbling under my steps. I went straight to the cupboard, I grasped what I needed and left as fast as I entered into the bakery.

Part Two

“Everything is alright, of course. Thank you very much!” the man said as he shook the police officer’s hand.

Both of the officers left the bakery as the man grabbed the broom and the dustpan then started to clean the mess on the floor. He suddenly bended and looked between the bits of glass. He picked up a small, red piece of lint and stared at it for a few moments. He put the lint in the dustpan and continued sweeping the floor.

“What’s going on?” a boy was asking from the stairwell.

“Oh, Benjamin!” the man said, startling. “Good morning, young man! Well…” the man started to scratch his head, “Someone broke-in last night and as you can see we don’t have a window anymore. Anyway, don’t bother with this, I’m gonna fix it and you have to write the letters, remember?”

The boy inclined his head and he set off but the man stopped him one more time to say something: “And, Ben… stay away from the drawer!”

“I know the rule, uncle!”

Ben ran up the stairs, went straight to the bathroom to clean his face, picked out some comfy clothes from the closet and walked quickly to his uncle’s office. The office was unlighted because of the blood-red curtains which were over the window. On the desk were settled many letters, papers ready to be written up, some wax with stamp and a quill ink pen.

Ben sat on the chair and started working on the letters. Though he always made the invitations for the renowned parties, Benjamin didn’t have access to them. His uncle kept saying every time when he organized a party that Ben is too unprepared for this type of activities and when his nephew would turn eighteen years old, Ben would be able to be invited to these parties. But the only thought Ben had was about next week when he was going to turn eighteen and he would never ever need an invitation to these parties because he is part of the family.

Once in three months, once in a season, his uncle hosted a party in The Appeasement bakery in which Ben worked for his uncle. You could be invited only if you were chosen by the host, usually the landlord of the bakery.

Writing the letters, Ben realized that there are only ten of them. Every time Ben was writing the letters, there were only ten. He thought with disappointment that he wasn’t actually invited. They should be eleven letters, not ten.

Benjamin wrote the letters and sealed them with melted wax, putting the stamp on it and waiting for the wax getting solid again. He grabbed all of them, got out of the office closing the door behind him and went down stairs. He handed the letters to his uncle to bring them to the post office.

But the letters were so bizarre to Ben because they didn’t have any address of the consignee. The nephew always had find that really strange but he never asked his uncle about this because he knew that he would never receive an answer.

Part three

“Hi, John! It’s time, isn’t it?” I asked him.

John nodded and handed me the mysterious letter. I glanced at it being nervous but I tried to calm down because I couldn’t let John see my upsetting feeling. I found those traditions too childish but for some reason I was so stressed.

“Come in. I’ll prepare some tea, that one you like the most.” I said, inviting him inside.

I walked into the kitchen preparing the tea as he took off his jacket and his leather boots. Lavender, raspberry flowers and some pepper mint was the perfect combination to sweeten John’s mood.

“I heard about the break-in.” I said as I seized two cups and some biscuits. I put them on the table from the living room and I ran off back to the kitchen to bring the tea. I sat down on the couch and I sipped the hot liquid through my pursed lips. I didn’t receive any answer from him and I continued to enjoy the tea, getting a biscuit.

“Ben turns eighteen this week.”

“Are you scared?” I asked, trying to keep the conversation. I could see how concerned John was and I thought it was because of Ben’s birthday.

“No, Otthild, I’m not. Benjamin is capable of handling the party and the bakery business.” he answered sharply, raising up the cup of tea.

I knew John for so long and I could read him so well. He wasn’t concerned about the birthday and the party and the business, he was wondering who broke-in the bakery last night.

“How’s the week going, Otthild?” he asked while I figured out that he suspecting me. But I was so sure that this question wasn’t asked only for me. I lied to him. I told him that I was worn out from my job but the truth is that I hadn’t found a job yet. I didn’t regret that I had to lie because my way of lying about something is so good that no one would ever find out the truth and if someone doesn’t know the truth or the fact that I lied it would never hurt them. “What about you?”

“With my work as you know already. I cleaned up some bits of glass but nothing special has happened.”

“But how did it happen exactly? I heard all kinds of gossip.” I asked as I noticed that John didn’t take any sip from the tea. He was holding the cup but he never drank it. Could he think that I wanted to poison him?

“We will discuss about this at the party. Nice coat, by the way.” he said as he stands up, walking towards the door.

Part four

Two hours before the party, Ben got a suit and letter from his uncle John whose eyes watered. “I’ve always thought you are my son, Benjamin. I’ll wait for you down stairs. We have to prepare the bakery for the party.”

The both of them started crying as they hugged each other. John was so cold and distant with the others, but with his nephew… John was a real father to Ben. The uncle left the Ben’s room as the nephew gazed at the letter for a few second. He opened it as he thought he didn’t need an invitation for the party.

The darkness lies down above our secret city,

The others fall asleep in their gloomy bedrooms,

Our lights get turned on, someone will betray us,

But I’m not the traitor.

Benjamin ironed his white shirt and before he got dressed up, he went downstairs helping his uncle to arrange the bakery. They moved some tables into the basement but kept one in the middle of the bakery. Ben went to his room where he dressed up fast and came back with a radiant expression on his face.

The guests started joining the party as they came into the bakery. Ben recognized most of them because they were old guests at these parties and he saw them entering into the bakery from the window of his room. But there were an old, beefy woman whom Ben didn’t see until then.

“John!” Ruth Otthild said as she hugged John and gave him a kiss on every cheek.

Ruth put her coat on the hanger, greeted Ben admiring his black suit. When all the guests were in the bakery, uncle John brought an old, fancy tray full of cookies, the speciality of The Appeasement bakery. Everyone was applauding, especially Ben who didn’t know what was everyone so excited about.

Every guest sat down at the table which was classy decorated, without plates or forks, but with two glasses, one for wine and the other one for water. Uncle John disappeared for a few minutes and when he returned he was holding two old wine bottles which he brought from the wine cellar.

“Welcome and I hope you enjoy this beautiful, breezy autumn night. First of all, I want to show you this young blood, Benjamin, my so- my nephew!” uncle John said, rising up a bottle of wine. He opened it up and poured some blood-colour wine into everyone’s glasses.

“What a gallant young man!” the beefy woman said, fluttering her huge fan.

“Welcome Benjamin to the family business!” said uncle John rising up his glass of wine, toasting for his nephew.

“Oh, I thought I was already in the business.” Ben said, laughing.

Everyone laughed as they toasted for Benjamin. The bakery’s traditions and the business was passed down from generation to generation. They had a lot of secret traditions and the business was a real success in the town. They made so much money and anyone could say they were disgustingly rich. Everyone was driven crazy and addicted to the bakery’s products.

Otthild took a gulp from her wine, reclining in the corner. Benjamin gave her a stern look, noticing how she was trying to pull her sleeve over her fingers.

“Now, I want to say two important things. First things first, that beautiful lady over there, is Mrs. Smith. Welcome!” John announced. “The second thing I want to make clear is about the game. This party has been passed down from generation to generation as well as the traditions that follow it. The party aims to show who will betray you in the future and because the family I came from is very faithful, it is considered that this can be found through a game. You each received a letter that is the same for each of you, except that the ending is different for one person. Thus, the person who has a different ending will have to steal objects from this room during the party. At the end of the night we will have a debate to find out who the traitor might be. In fact, everyone has the right to announce a debate, only once, at any moment they want. If the thief is found out, the person is expelled forever from the parties, but if the thief is not, then no one is expelled…”

“What if the thief might be a relative?” Ben asked.

“It did happen twice in the family history. The first one was my grand-grand-grandmother. She was the traitor, everybody found it out but because it was a relative they didn’t banish her. After the party, the next day the family discovered that the wealth was gone and my grand-gran-grandmother too with them. Then you father did the same thing, as your grandfather didn’t banish him.” John explained to Benjamin.

Ben nodded as he got the whole idea about his mysterious family. Uncle John settled the start of the party and every guest took a cookie from the tray. Ben took one, too, eating it and started feeling his body relaxing. The party began. Some people danced to the melodious voice of Mrs. Smith. Ben sat in his chair, looking around the room and searching for a guest who could be the traitor.

He pointed Ruth Otthild with his glance. The woman was pulling her sleeve over the fingers as she was looking blankly into a canvas. She stared the painting so much that you could think she was having a deeply conversation with it.

“Everything okay, Otthild?

The woman startled as she seemed to be perturbed, pulling the sleeve again over the fingers. Ruth nodded as she touched John’s chest, giving him a sympathetic smile. John’s eyes fell above her hand where he spotted a thin, blue cord. John smiled back and left her alone in front of the canvas.

Ruth Otthild stared again over at the painting, reaching it with her fingers. Ben was analyzing every move she made and his eyes got bigger when Ruth left the canvas.

“I- I –I want to start a debate.”

John was in ecstasy, grabbing a chair close to Ben. His uncle was waiting being proud of his nephew as everyone sat on the chair, listening to Ben. Ruth stand still, leaning her arm against John’s back of the chair.

“I think this lady is the traitor.” Ben said, pointing out Ruth. “There was a small piece of gold on the frame of the painting and she took it.”

“Ruth Otthild, you are banished.”

“John, wait, wasn’t this a debate…?” Ruth tried to defence herself.

“Yes, dear. It was supposed to be a debate, but for you this rule doesn’t exist anymore. You have a bracelet, right? From the Drug Centre, right? John said as Ruth’s face got surprised. “Also, your red coat let a small lint when the bakery was broke-in. I noticed the red lint when I cleaned the floor which was covered by bits of glass. And one more thing, Ruth. The thief stole only one thing, only one ingredient. The secret one. Not money, not anything else, just the secret ingredient. And only a junky would steal Librium…”

“Librium?” Ben asked, being confused.

“Yeah, Benjamin. Ruth Otthild stole the only thing that was in the bakery and could stop her appetite for drugs, Librium, our secret success of the business.”