Resolve

I slurped the pink colored milk from a bowl of cereal I was happily devouring.  He watched with a smile how little I cared about manners; sipping loudly, and wiping my mouth on my sleeve.  When I was done I walked the bowl over to the sink and rinsed it without any forethought; it’s what I had always been taught to do.  I sat back down, wriggled in the chair until I was comfortable, and looked at him with a maturity and severity I shouldn’t have had at nine. 

                “What was that thing?” I asked him again. 

                He leaned back in his chair, stared at the ceiling, and exhaled slowly. 

                “I was fourteen when I first felt them.  Nothing more than an uneasy feeling; a strong dislike for a particular spot that just felt wrong to me.  For the next couple of years I noticed the patterns; the places and times when I felt them or when I felt safe.” He paused and turned his head to look at me. The thoughts blending in his head, turning up memories that he didn’t want to sift through. “When I was sixteen my mom and dad died in a car accident.  I was coming home from school when I saw the police cars outside my house.  My little sister was standing in the doorway talking to them, crying, and when she saw me she ran to me.  She broke down in my arms, she couldn’t even talk amongst her sobbing, but I knew what happened; I sensed it in her.  And then I saw them, just a haze in the air all around but I knew what they were.  I couldn’t see as they fed off her pain, but I felt it.  I felt their joy at her cries and it made me sick.  I was so angry, and then, without knowing how, that anger turn into strength inside of me.  I wanted to protect her and somehow I did.  Just with my thoughts.  All I knew is that I felt a push within me and then they vanished.” 

                I nodded remembering what happened when I ran out of the house and towards my mom.

                “So are they ghosts?”

                He shook his head.

                “Entities of some sort.  We don’t really know what they are; but no, not ghosts.”

 “Why did it kill my mom?”  I saw the change in his demeanor as he searched for an answer. 

“Who knows.” 

“You do. I know you do.”  He tried to smile and play off my accusation, but couldn’t.

“It was because of me.”  I said.  He shook his head.

“No, it was because that thing is filled with hate and causing pain is all it knows.  Don’t blame yourself for being different.”

“She died because I’m different.”

Silence.

We stood in the porch that faced his backyard.  He had poured himself a cup of coffee, and now stood there, slowly sipping and consumed in thought.  There was no fence around his house, and I could see around for miles; empty, desolate, no signs of life.  The house itself looked old and unkempt, decaying slowly amidst its chipping paint and crumbling siding. 

“Did you kill it?”  He shook his head.

“I’m not strong enough to take on something like that.  It took all of my strength just escape with you; and even that only happened because you drained some of its energy.  Without that, we’d both probably be dead.”  I thought about this for a second, going over the whole thing in my head and focusing on the thing to keep my emotions from taking over.

“So if you had gotten there sooner and tried to save her…”  He looked at his cup as if it held all the answers.  He ignored my questions and moved on with his story.

“I felt them gather that night; they were attracted by our pain and by my energy.  I sat in the couch, my sister cuddled up asleep next to me.  Her eyes were puffy from crying all day, and I remember thinking that no matter what I had to be strong, I had to take care of her.”

“Can you teach me how to fight them?”  He shook his head again.

“You’re too strong, it’ll probably kill you.”

“Then I’ll go find them in my own!”

“You’ll die.”

“Then I guess you better teach me.”

He smiled.

“I guess.”  He said and sighed.

“I’m gonna need more coffee.”

Author's Note

It's late and I'm tired.... sooo I haven't even done any editing (I'll come back and do it, it'll bother me too much. I was just excited about the site being back online). Thanks for reading!