Math has never been my strong suit. Still, I’ve always rather enjoyed logic puzzles (particularly ones like Einstein’s Riddle), and after falling in love with Return of the Obra Dinn last year, I got really into the idea of using puzzles like these to build a narrative—especially a mystery.

I first saw them one evening in May. I couldn’t tell what they were: small, like kids, like me, but they rustled, raffia fronds for skin. My eyes fizzing with dreams, I found Mama cradled on the sofa, hugging herself. She wore that faded floral top she loved so much.

The first horror film I ever saw was with my father. I was way too young to watch anything so graphic, and I cowered behind the ratty green footstool in the living room, daring to peek out when the worst was over. The lights were off, curtains drawn, blinds closed, and my father lay on the couch, very disinterested in my sheer terror. But by that time, I’d already learned not to make a fuss. Be still and quiet so you don’t get noticed.

J. Nicole Jones received an MFA in Creative Nonfiction from Columbia University. She has held editorial positions at VICE magazine and VanityFair.com. Her essays and writing have appeared in VICE, VanityFair.com, the Harper’s Magazine website, the Los Angeles Review of Books, Salon, the Paris Review Daily, Poets & Writers, and others. She is the author of Low Country: A Memoir and The Witches of Bellinas.

This poem began as a letter from a grandmother to her grandchild. It warns of uncontrollable wickedness and gifts them wisdom for how to survive despite it.