It had been a while since my family and I had gotten together for any sort of event. We didn’t get together for my graduation, my mom’s 50th birthday or even when my dad had his last chemotherapy treatment. Yet my sister’s baby shower was an exception.

My mom had sent out invitations for a surprise baby shower that she had planned for my sister. Mariana had originally invited my parents, our youngest sister, Rosie, and myself. Shortly after, my mom took it into her own hands to distribute invitations to everyone on her contact list. I suppose part of me couldn’t completely blame her. Her eldest daughter was pregnant and she wanted to use that for bragging rights and – apparently – there was no way a couple of photos on Facebook would have been enough. Plus, I suppose it would give me a chance to do a little bragging of my own.

‘Do you really think anyone is going to actually care about your new job?’

The gravelly voice echoed around the room despite the fact that I was alone. I rolled my eyes and continued to hastily pack the folded clothes into my bag.

“It’s a job at one of the biggest law firms in the country. Of course they’ll care.”

‘You shouldn’t focus on work so much, Charlotte. You should socialize. Meet people while you still can. Your body is getting old. That makeup won't hide the wrinkles on your forehead for much longer.’

I scoffed, “First of all, I’m 22, I have all the time in the world. I just finished my degree and I’m trying to secure the money bag as soon as possible. There’s plenty of time for me to flourish.”

‘Your looks say otherwise.’

I placed my hands on my hips and raised an eyebrow, eyeing my suitcase. I was missing something but I couldn’t tell what. “This is all coming from a disembodied voice in my head.”

‘Toiletries.’

I snapped my fingers, “Thank you,” I began making my way to the bathroom, “Plus, do you remember what happened last time I had company over?”

‘No’ the voice replied a little too quickly.

“Seventh grade, Susie Kingsley?”

Silence.

“You tried to convince me to stab her with that pointy-fireplace-thingy.”

‘It's called a Poker. Also, I don’t recall…’

“Oh, yeah, I bet you don’t. You’re a little snake, you know that?”

A gasp rang through the room, ‘I am not!’

I chuckled, “Yeah, you are. You probably look like one too. I bet you have a forked tongue and scaly skin.”

I zipped up my bag after I had filled it with shampoo, conditioner, body-wash, and other essentials. My make up just managed to fit inside. A growl made the walls of my apartment shake.

‘I look like nothing of the sorts.’

“You’re right. A snake is too ferocious. You’re probably a small lizard.”

Another growl.

“Angry, are we?”

‘I’d be more than happy to show you what I look like, if you’re curious.’

I sat on the edge of the bed and focused on double knotting my shoe laces.

“Sure.” I sighed.

Suddenly the lights started flickering. It seemed like the whole room was vibrating. The bed started to shake and I could hear the contents of the bag beside me making noise as they bumped against each other. High pitched noises which sounded like the screams of small children began to echo around in my head. I shivered as a breeze made its way around my neck.

'You won’t make it out aliv-’

My phone chimed and everything stopped.

I glanced at the nightstand where it had been charging. I stood up quickly.

“The taxi’s here.”

‘Oh. Well, I-’

“You’ll show me another time. We better get going otherwise we’re going to be late. Then we really won’t make it out alive.”

Silence, once again.

I hurried towards the front door, making sure that all the taps, lights and electrical equipment were turned off.

As I locked the door, the voice spoke up once again.

‘Have you ever thought about running into oncoming traffic?’

“All the time during varsity.”

‘Have you ever tried it?’

“Nope.” I began hurrying down the corridor.

The voice was quiet for a moment before saying, ‘Would you like to?’

“Maybe later. Now, let’s go.”

__________________________________________ _________________________________

Ana’s house was a two hour plane ride away. A plane ride I wouldn’t have been able to afford if it hadn’t been for Ana’s generosity.

The entire trip I had been trying my best to ignore the voice’s sadistic suggestions.

‘Trip the flight attendant!’

‘Spit in their water!’

‘Pretend to go to the bathroom and pull the emergency exit!’

When the pilot announced our descent, my smile must have been blinding. I was used to the voice by now.

I carried it with me for 22 years. It was always there. My parents understood that having imaginary friends was normal in childhood, but their understanding grew into concern when I was still talking to it at the age of sixteen. At that point I had been taken to multiple therapists, doctors, guidance counselors – you name it. I wasn’t diagnosed with anything and many professionals just concluded that I was secure in my imaginary friend and that I felt safe. Although safe is the last thing I felt whenever it was around up until two years ago when I understood that there was nothing it could do to hurt me. It was imaginary after all. So, instead of panicking, I chose to humor it until it would eventually go away. Of late, it hasn’t. However, patience is virtue, and my whole life I’ve strived to be a virtuous woman.

Standing in front of the white double doors of my sister’s house, Ana and I embraced.

“How are you? Oh my goodness, you’re glowing!” I said.

She chuckled and her grip tightened, “You’re lying!”

“Am not!” I pulled away from her abruptly and grabbed her left hand. I gazed at her shiny, diamond engagement ring that glittered in the light of the setting sun.

“Wow!” I let go of her hand and put my hands on my hips, “Look at you, Mrs. Crawford.”

She laughed and her eyes crinkled, “Not yet, Charlie. I’m glad you remembered, though. My engagement has been completely dismal to mom.”

I placed my hands on her protruding belly, “I wonder why.”

Ana called her fiance, Tommy, to help take my luggage inside. He walked out and greeted me by giving me polite kisses on the cheeks.

“You don’t have to,” I said to him as I watched him pick my bags, “I don’t mind taking them inside.”

“He’s not going to listen to you. He has an audience to impress.”

Tommy shook his head with a small smile on his face and walked back inside the house.

I furrowed my eyebrows, “Audience?” “Mom and dad are here.” My eyes widened and my lips formed an incredulous smile. A shocked chuckle escaped me. “What?” I mumbled, “I thought they were coming tomorrow?”

Ana shrugged, “That’s what I thought too but they just showed up out of nowhere.” “I think it’s cute that they wanted to surprise you.”

She scoffed, “Yeah, it’s cute up until they settle in. My living room has already been completely rearranged because mom insisted that if the lamp is on the right side of the room it attracts negative energy.”

A low chuckle made its way around the back of my mind, ‘Oh, you have no idea’.

Shivers ran down my spine causing me to jolt and shake my head swiftly. Goosebumps raised on my skin and my legs trembled. I had been wondering when I would hear his input again.

Ana stared at me, concern was written all over her face. She gave me a curious look. She asked me if something was wrong but I brushed it off as the after-effects of a plane trip.

In my youth, Ana was always stuck in the middle. She was exposed to my parents’s frustrations and to my anguish. She had continuously heard me complain about the voice and express my disdain for it - and the same could be said with regards to my parents. Ana comforted me when I was afraid of the voice and she would often try to distract me; in fact, she left her high school’s Winter Formal early after she found out I was in a state of distress. That night she rushed home and barely had time to get out of her fancy dress before she hurried by my side to put a movie on. Ana had always dropped everything in order to be there for me and the majority of her adolescence had revolved around me. Somehow, all of her special events had been ruined because of me - but not this time. I refused to let anyone make this weekend about me.

Ana pulled me inside the house and I braced myself to see my parents.

_________________________________________________________________________________

Tommy, Ana, Rosie, my mother, my father and I sat around a large circular, glass table with a white rim. Ana sat to my right and Tommy sat to her right. Rose sat opposite Ana and my parents sat across from me. Different beverages were on the table along with a glass assigned to each one of us. We were in the midst of conversation when my mom turned her attention towards me. “So, any big news on your end, darling?” She gave me a sweet smile. With a sigh of relief, I pressed my lips into a thin line and held back a grin. “Actually, I do.” They all looked at me with expectant eyes. There was a brief moment of silence. I waited for a comment from the voice - but there was nothing. Rosie let out a snarky chuckle. I brushed it off and started talking.

“Last week I got a job interview with Craig & Solomon’s, and they got back to me yesterday.” “And?” Anticipation coated Ana’s voice.

I flashed a sheepish smile, “I’m in.”

“Charlie, that’s amazing!” Ana beamed. I received congratulations from everyone seated at the table. “What about a boyfriend?” My mother chimed in after taking a sip from her glass of wine.

The noise at the table died down and Ana bowed her head. Without even seeing it, I knew that she had rolled her eyes. This was an expected question from my mother. Ana and I knew that better than anybody. Rosie never had trouble with boyfriends so my mother didn’t think it was something that she needed to constantly remind her of. To be honest, I believed that exactly because Rosie had had her fair share of boyfriends by the age of sixteen my mother took it easy on me. She had her hands full. However, this didn’t mean that the question wouldn’t show up every now and then.

“I don’t have a boyfriend.” I replied.

“Yet.” My mother said, sending a wink my way.

I nodded once in defeat and repeated, “Yet.”

“Why not?” “It’s just not very important to me right now, mom. I’m mostly focused on my career.”

My dad chimed in, “And I think that’s great, honey. Not many people get jobs immediately after finishing their degree.”

“I know. I’m super grateful.” I added.

“I agree with dad,” said Ana, “I’m so proud of you. Now, even if you have a boyfriend, you won’t need to depend on anyone.”

Shortly after Ana finished talking, I noticed that she seemed a little paler than when I first saw her.

My mom cleared her throat and changed the topic, “Well, how was your flight?”

The table made sounds of agreements and latched onto this topic. I was relieved that I didn’t have to talk about this anymore.

“The flight went well. We were a little cramped but-” “We?” Rosie interjected. A look of confusion came over her. Once again, the table fell silent. This silence, however, was different. There was an air of deceit wafting of my parents after they had registered what I had said. Ana seemed somber, her eyes were downcast and Tommy rubbed her back. My dad placed his hand on my mom’s. No one made eye contact with me. Once Rosie had processed what I said, her confusion changed to disgust as she took her phone out of her pocket and started entertaining herself with whatever was on the screen. She mumbled the word “Freak”. For the first time in two hours we could hear the birds chirping in the trees and the water trickling from the fountain in the garden. I lowered my eyes down to my hands.

“Uh, yeah, the plane was pretty full... So everybody was, er...cramped…” I trailed off, unsure of what I could say to make this seem better than it actually was. Despite the fact that we were on the patio, the air felt heavy. I could feel my face heating up. My hands were getting clammy. My mother nodded and let out a heavy breath.

I grabbed my glass from the table and stood up abruptly, “I’m going to get a refill. Anyone want anything?”

More silence.

I pressed my lips into a line and nodded once in understanding. Sighing, I walked away from the table and to the kitchen. Standing by one of the kitchen counters, I could see my family through the glass sliding door. I grabbed a bottle of wine out from the fridge and poured myself some. While pouring, I noticed that Ana was the only person that was looking back at me. I offered her an apologetic smile but she didn’t return it. She was sitting up straight. Her eyes seemed empty. As if there was no consciousness behind them. I playfully stuck my tongue out at her in hopes of getting a reaction. Nothing. She continued to stare blankly at me. I furrowed my eyebrows and put the bottle back before making my way outside again.

The rest of the afternoon was spent listening to small talk about Rosie’s high school experience. Most of her stories were humorous and relatable, but it was difficult for me to ignore the comments she made every once in a while.

“Well, based off of your description, Tyler sounds like a lovely guy, Rosie.” I reached over and put my hand on hers giving it a reassuring squeeze.

Something in her eyes flickered and a smirk formed on her lips before she spoke again.

“He’s great - but he’s no lifelong imaginary friend, you know what I mean?”

“Rosie.” My dad scolded.

I frowned. My eyes fell down to where our hands were touching. I pulled mine away. I sat back in my chair.

Rosie didn’t grow up with the same mindset as Ana. She often felt afraid of the fact that I would talk to someone nobody else could see, and as time went on that fear changed into hostility. She couldn’t understand what was happening and therefore, she couldn’t accept it. Rosie was never quiet about her disdain and - more often than not - she thought of me as crazy. A ‘freak’. When Ana was in high school many people made fun of her for defending me. To others, she had a sister that still had an imaginary friend. She never gave into it. She dealt with it and chalked it up to people not comprehending the full situation. How could they? Not even we knew what was going on.

Rosie was different, though. To prevent the bullying she knew would be inevitable, she chose to make fun of Ana and I as well. She completely detached herself from us. It was easy for her seeing as Ana and I were done with high school. We weren’t on the premises to defend ourselves. I couldn’t blame her, though. She didn’t understand - or rather, she didn’t want to and I definitely couldn’t force her to.

At some point, Ana felt unwell. She seemed unwell, too. Despite the multiple conversations we had, Ana hadn’t said a word. All she did was sit still. I had caught her staring at me a couple of times with that same blank expression. I had knots in my stomach. I had never seen her look like that before. She was void of emotion; feeling. I had brushed it off but I couldn’t help but feel that something wasn’t right with her.

To make matters worse, the voice hadn’t made any comments about what was said at lunch. In fact, he hadn’t made any comments at all. I was sure that he would have said something about my mother’s dismissal of my employment - he predicted it, after all - but there was nothing. Not a sound. Not even a groan or a sarcastic ‘ahem’. I hated admitting it to myself, but I felt alone without his passive-aggressive comments. Just like with Ana, though, I decided to brush it off.

__________________________________________________________________________________

That night, after everyone went to bed, I started unpacking my suitcases. Music was blasting through my headphones. It was so loud I had barely heard the door open. I turned my head towards the doorway. It was Ana.

I smiled and took my headphones off, letting them hang around my neck.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” I asked.

She shrugged, “I’m feeling better. I couldn’t sleep, though.” “Why? What’s up?” I questioned, putting my hands on my hips. The music from my headphones was slightly audible.

“I guess I’m just nervous for tomorrow. You know how I feel about big crowds.”

Laughing I said, “Oh, so you found out about mom’s big surprise, huh?”

“Yeah, I did.”

I faced my suitcase again, turning my back to her, “Wow. I didn’t think mom would let herself get so sloppy with her surprises. To be honest, though, I think Rosie’s fifteenth birthday party disaster caught her off guard. Sometimes, I still think about how shocked mom was when Rosie predicted the whole thing.” I chuckled.

“Charlotte?” Ana said.

My gaze fell over my shoulder to give her a side eye, “Woah. You haven’t called me that in ages. Am I in trouble?” I joked.

“Do you have any friends?”

I paused. This was a very arbitrary question for Ana to ask. I shook my head slowly, “Where is this coming from?”

“I’m just thinking, you don’t have a boyfriend. Or friends.”

“I don’t need friends, or a boyfriend. You said so yourself.” I argued.

She lifted her hands up, “Don’t get all defensive.”

I rolled my eyes and looked up to the ceiling in frustration, releasing a groan. Lowering my head, I said, “I’m not getting defensive! I’m tired of having the same conversation over and over again. I get this from everybody in this goddamn family and I really don’t need it from you.”

She remained calm despite the fact that I was getting worked up, “Please, listen to me. I’m just looking out for you.”

I was quiet for a moment. Angry breaths were leaving my body as I stared her down. Ana had always been so understanding about my situation. This wasn’t like her. I couldn’t deny, though, that there was a possibility that she could have changed her mind.

“Why is this a thing all of a sudden?”

“I was talking about it to Andrew last night - you know, pillow-talk, and-”

I crossed my arms over my chest, “Andrew? Who’s Andrew?”

Ana’s eyes widened. She seemed like a deer in headlights. I furrowed my eyebrows. Did my sister just admit to having an affair? Her eyes jumped around the room as if the answer to my question was hidden behind the curtains, or under the bed. Then she smiled and rolled her eyes.

“I’m so stupid! Ugh, pregnancy-brain!” she chuckled, “I meant, Tommy.”

I kept quiet and gave her a once-over. Something still didn’t seem right but I couldn’t put my finger on what exactly. I sucked my teeth and squinted at her.

“Look, just hear me out. I’m just looking out for you.” She insisted. I sighed and smiled at her. She smiled back.

“Go ahead.” I mumbled. I went to work on my suitcase again, taking out the folded clothes and placing them on the bed so I could put them in the cupboard afterwards. My back was to her once again. I noticed that my headphones were still playing music. I bobbed my head slowly to the beat as she began to talk:

“Don’t you think you’re a little old to have an imaginary friend?”

I sighed and shut my eyes for a second. I was exhausted with everyone assuming that this was a choice.

“I guess.” I mumbled.

“I think that, maybe, it’s time for you to make some friends. Some real friends.” as she spoke I nodded and rolled my eyes. Suddenly, the music in my headphones stopped playing.

“What the-?” I took them off from around my neck. As I inspected them, I heard soft static sounds. I patted the earmuffs - once, then twice - in hopes of getting them to work. I had just bought them so I found it difficult to believe that they could have broken already. The third time I tapped them, the static stopped. Soon after, it was replaced with the sounds of children screaming. Voices layering over each other. Different pitches. Different lengths. Different intensities. I jumped from the sound and dropped my headphones on the floor.

I huffed as I bent down to pick them up and then Ana spoke again,

“Get a real friend, Charlotte. Not an imaginary one. Especially not one with a forked tongue and scaly skin.”

I chuckled, recalling how I had said that to the voice.

Suddenly, I froze.

I had said it to the voice.

Only the voice.

Nobody else was there.

Then, I thought about how bitter Ana sounded when she said that. Angry. Furious. Fed up.

My legs started to tremble and my eyes started watering. My hands shook. My teeth were chattering. My breaths came out ragged.

Hesitating, I turned around to face Ana again. I gasped.

She was still smiling at me but it was odd. Her smile spread from under her right eye, all the way across her face, to under her left eye. It was abnormally stretched. Her eyes were opened wide; so wide that I could only see the white of her eye. Her head was tilted too far to the right as she smiled menacingly at me.

“Ana?” I whispered.

Blood started pouring from her eyes. Then her ears. Then from her mouth. It seeped through the minuscule gaps between her teeth and trickled down her chin. Her body started vibrating furiously. My ears filled up with the sound of Ana choking on the blood that was pooling in her mouth, in her throat. Blood spluttered out of her mouth but her teeth stayed put in that terrifying smile. The dreadful, bone-shaking screams of the children oozed from my headphones and occupied the room. Her facial expression never changed. Not once.

And in that moment, I knew -

I wasn’t talking to Ana anymore.

#horror #scary #ghosts #imaginaryfriend #spirit #demon #blood #family #love #girls #thriller #monsters #weird #frightening

The door opened and, suddenly, I wasn’t basking in complete darkness anymore. I squinted slightly, attempting to get a proper glance at the dark silhouette in contrast with the protruding light outside. His familiar stance caused a dripping sense of relief to wash over me. I sighed. He paused slightly before closing the door behind him. I stood up from my seat on the floor in front of the hotel room curtains. I wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans.

“Hi.” He mumbled. I replied with a quick nod.

His proud stance faltered for the duration of his approach. Soon enough, I could feel the heartbreak radiating off of my own skin onto the surface of his. I pressed my lips into a thin line, “So, you proposed.” The words escaped my lips in a monotone manner.

“Yeah,” he started, “but we’re supposed to break up February of next year.” He assured me. I felt tired. Weak. He always reassured me that this publicity stunt would be over and that one day, we’d be together. Publicly.

I always doubted his words. I trusted him, and all I wanted was to be with him, but sadly, it would always lead to intimate exchanges in hotel rooms where no one saw us enter at the same time. We strategically planned our meetings to ensure that his image would not be sabotaged. We’d enter and leave at separate hours. At times, I’d leave days after he would and visa versa.

I nodded slowly. He took a step closer and I was enveloped in his arms. I hugged him back, my hands clutching his shirt like a vice. Like he was my vice. Which, in fact, he was.

“I promise,” he started, “when this is all over, we’ll be able to go out and hold hands. We’ll be able to purchase our own house with a beautiful garden where you can do your writing. I promise we won’t have to rent out hotel rooms for days on end.” He situated his head on top of my own as I ignored the pain of his chin in my scalp. He carried on,

“And even if we do, we won’t have to close the curtains.”

I exhaled and held him tighter. For the first time, something changed. After songs written about the hint of gold in my eyes, after endless posts about forbidden love, after the tricks he pulled to ensure that I would have him in my arms, after secret dates, after fights that should have ended it all- something changed.

For the first time, I wasn’t the only one drowning in doubt, as the uncertainty oozed from his every pore.

He held me tighter as if he felt, for the first time, that I might slip away.

#forbiddenlove #lovers #nathaliefiorin #works #writers #musician #love #romance #unrequitedfeelings

I always knew that the people in my family had an over-active imagination. I, myself, had a wild imagination as a child. My mother told me that it was normal for my sister and I to run around the backyard screaming that we were running away from monsters. In some instances, even attempting to fight the monsters. My mother once told me a story about my sister breaking her arm due to her dedication to her imagination. How my mother didn’t think this would cause further problems in my sister’s future baffles me. You see, I grew out of my imagination. I combated it and, well, I won. My sister, however, didn’t.

She almost gave my mother and father a heart attack at the age of 14 when she ran away in the middle of the night with some of the other kids in the neighborhood who had similar, eh, issues. I wished my parents had sat me down the next morning and had told me about it calmly, slowly. Unfortunately, this was not the case. I was woken up to my mother screaming profanities hysterically, saying how this was incredibly despicable and how she hadn’t expected anything less from Leigh. My father was on the phone, trying to contact the authorities and trying to phone her friend’s parents. By the time I had stumbled down the stairs, my mother was pacing back and forth and my dad was mumbling into his cellphone. My mother’s head snapped in my direction. I could see the worry deep in her eyes. I was also old enough to realize that there was a veil of anger, like a red flag, that was used to mask the concern.

“Do you know what your sister has done? Do you know where she is? This is so like her, running away in the middle of the night. Did she say anything to you? Did her friends say anything? We’ve tried to get into contact with Luke’s parents but they said that Luke hadn’t seen her since school. Cleo if you know anything and you’re keeping it a secret from us, I swear you’ll-”

Before my mother could finish her sentence, the front door opened. The three of us looked at the door and there stood my sister.

She had a duffel bag with her and her eyes looked at each of us. She looked at me, my mother and my father. She seemed to have been taking in the panicked state that had made a home in us. Leigh raised her eyebrows.

“Who died?” She asked.

My mother snapped, “I almost did! Your father almost did! Look – Look at your sister! She’s been worried sick! Where the hell were you? With who?!”

“I had that camping trip last night. Remember?”

My mother was silent for a second. “You never told me about a camping trip.” Her voice trembled. I could tell she was struggling to keep a grip on her emotions.

“Did I not? Oh, well, Cleo knew about it.”

I frowned and shot Leigh a look of confusion. I could feel my mother’s eyes on me. My father remained quiet.

“Right,” Leigh gritted her teeth and nodded her head quickly, her eyes opened wide, “Cleo?”

My agreement to that was the catalyst to years of being involved in my sister’s plots. By the time she was 23 and I was 20, I still had no idea where she would disappear to and why she’d be covered in mud, sometimes even blood. Whether it was her blood or someone else’s, I never bothered asking. I had asked once. She was sixteen at the time and had a gash that ran down her entire leg. She had just come back from one of her adventures at 4am and stumbled up the stairs. She threw the door to my room open and sat down on my bed. The duffel bag hit the floor with a CLANK.

“Cleo. Cleo, get up.” She started shaking my arm until I sat up slowly.

“Leigh, what do you want?” I rubbed my eyes, trying to get them to adjust to the dim light the lamp in the corner was emitting, “What time is it? Where were you? What-”

I paused after I saw Leigh’s bloody leg. She was struggling to take her jeans off. She grimaced and hissed at the pain from the denim rubbing against her wound.

“Leigh, what the hell happened? Who did this to you?”

“The monsters, Cleo. They’re real. They were always real. Open my bag and get the bandages out, please.”

My mind was racing. I could hardly process her words. I don’t know if it was because I had just woken up or if it was because her words were coming out in rushed whispers. They sounded similar to a distant stream. Hushed white-noise.

“The…what? Leigh, what-”

“For God’s sake, Cleo, the bandages!” She hissed.

I threw the duvet off of my legs and moved quickly towards her grey bag. I tugged the most prominent zipper until it moved and the bag opened. I gasped. Goosebumps ran along my arms and legs. The hairs on the back of my neck stood. I was sure that if Leigh hadn’t been injured she would have noticed the change in my demeanor.

I was hoping to find a party outfit, empty alcohol bottles, high heels or even make up scattered along the bottom of the bag, and a small pack of bandages snuggled among articles of clothing that didn’t belong to her. However, that was not what I found.

I was greeted by weapons. Weapons. Knives of all shapes and sizes, machetes, swords, daggers, spears and javelins. Firearms rested peacefully at the bottom. Hand-to-hand combat weapons, you name it. It was all there. In my teenage sister’s duffel bag.

“Why do you have all of this stuff?”

“Bandages!” She said, louder.

“I can’t find them in the middle of all this – this – this stuff, Leigh!”

She groaned, and got off the bed. She shoved me to the side and kneeled in front of her bag. She zipped the bag close and opened a smaller pocked on the side of the bag. She pulled out a first-aid kit. She sat down and tried to take her jeans off. I pulled slightly on the bottom of them to try and help - but she hissed, again, and slapped my hand.

“Leave it.”

After that night, our dynamic changed. I no longer willingly let her use me as a scapegoat, but only because I felt like I needed to be one. I never asked about her wound after that. I didn’t even ask about the bag or the contents of it. I just nodded whenever she came up with an excuse or told my parents that she was out with me.

One day, she had come home badly injured. At 18 she had a wound that would leave a scar on her back for the rest of her life. My parents had blamed me for it because I hadn’t told them where she was going. It had been my responsibility to let them know. That day, I had had enough.

“I don’t know where she went.” I said calmly.

My mother, who had been sitting with me in the waiting room, glanced at me grimly. My father was inside talking to Leigh. My parents had taken her to the hospital after they had heard her wailing in the middle of the night. She had been sitting in her room, trying to clean up her back with those pathetic wet wipes.

“Don’t lie.”

“I’m not lying. I have no idea where she went, or with who. She didn’t tell me. You know, mom, more often than not – I covered for her the whole time. All those late nights and early mornings? I had no idea where she was. She never tells me where she goes.”

My mother remained quiet. I shouldn’t have said what I said next, but the anger bubbled over,

“You might want to check that bag she has with her all the time, as well.”

After that incident, my mother found out about the weapons. I still remember her pale face and the way her hands shook as she cried, demanding to know if my sister was a drug lord. Leigh, though, insisted that it was the monsters. The same monsters that infiltrated our childhood. The same monsters that she claimed broke her arm that one summer day even though my mother insisted that she had simply fallen off the top of the slide.

You see, I managed to escape my imagination. Leigh made a home out of hers.

Soon after, Leigh was sent to a boarding school for kids who had special needs. Rumors circulated around our town about her being crazy. School kids theorized about what caused her descent into madness.

Other people said she was in a mafia, a gang. That she was a hit-man. I knew, though, that it was just Leigh. She was always a little rough around the edges. Despite this, I could never forgive her for the nightmare she had created out of my childhood. My adolescence was tainted because of her. Memories of blood, weapons and lies.

Due to this, I hadn’t ever told her about my heartbreaks, my achievements, my job. I never told her about my engagement. I never told her I moved out of our town. I moved away. Far away from the rumors that followed me more than they followed her. She wasn’t at my wedding because I didn’t invite her. Most importantly though, I never told her about my children. My husband, Axel, had always thought that I should tell Leigh. Write a letter, reply to her emails or even visit her. Not because he had wanted to meet my family, but because he already had. He was one of the kids that Leigh used to sneak off with. There were ten of them. I had seen all of them on the day my mother had tossed Leigh in that car and drove away. None of them were memorable enough, except for Axel and a girl called Rosie.

I watched my parents drive off as six of Leigh’s friends ran after the car like children. Essentially, if they were friends with Leigh, I wouldn’t be surprised if they were. A girl with a blonde bob frowned and locked her jaw. I stood at our gate and tried to ignore her when she turned to look at me. She stared at me for about five seconds before she stomped towards me, chin tilted towards the ground, eyes in slits and her hands in fists. She grabbed me by my shirt and yanked me closer to her face. I could feel her breath on my forehead.

“Are you satisfied now? Is this what you wanted?”

I furrowed my eyebrows.

“My sister is not okay – and frankly, it doesn’t look like any of you are either.”

She yanked harder, giving me whiplash. I gritted my teeth.

“You little bitch, you don’t know what you’ve-”

A boy with black hair and the deep, brown eyes I eventually grew fond of gripped the back of the blonde girl’s hoodie.

“Rosie, cut it out. She’s just a kid.”

Rosie let out a quick breath and let go of my shirt. For a split second I felt my feet touch the ground. This thin and frail-looking girl had – somehow – managed to lift me off the ground without me even noticing, and above all else, with just her bare hands.

She turned her back on me and quickly walked away from me. Her hands still in fists. She frowned and looked in the direction of the car once more before running off.

I touched the material of my shirt. The boy with the dark hair, who I would grow to love years later, gave me a once-over.

“I’m not a kid. I’m sixteen.”

He shook his head, “Exactly. Look, you just made our job a little bit more difficult.” Before I could question him, he stalked off in the same direction as Rosie. He called the others that wondered aimlessly on our street. They followed him and finally left, but not without shooting me a couple of dirty looks. I raised my eyebrow as I watched them walk away.

Shortly after Leigh’s move, Rosie and some of the others made it a point to make school a living hell for me. Every week there would be a new rumor about me. I hate to admit it, but I reached a point where even I hated myself for all the things I had ‘done’.

People around me started to fade away and willingly removed themselves from my life. Eventually, I was alone.

Axel stuck through it. He did. He made himself more apparent in my life – much to Rosie’s dismay. I also found out that Rosie and Leigh had been seeing each other. This explained Rosie’s outburst. Axel told me that Rosie was a very sensitive person and she didn’t connect with people easily. Then once she met Leigh and got to know her properly, her deformity didn’t seem to bother her so much anymore.

“Deformity?” I had asked, “Rosie looks fine to me. What deformity does she have?”

He shook his head. He did that a lot. Even years later, when our son asked him why his little sister was ‘living in mommy’s tummy’, he shook his head.

He never brought up Rosie’s deformity again and, due to my ignorance on the matter, neither did I.

“It can’t hurt to just pay her a visit.” Axel said to me, nine years later, sitting at the breakfast table with his coffee cup in his hand. I had propped three year old Darcy on the table and stood in front her, tucking her shirt into her pants. It was chilly outside and, since Axel brought up Leigh, even chillier

inside the house.

“And say what, exactly? ‘Hi Leigh, sorry that I haven’t spoken to you in nine years. I got married and had two kids and, before you meet them, I need to know – are you still crazy?’. C’mon, Axel.”

I made sure Darcy’s socks were warm enough before putting her down on the kitchen tiles.

“It was just a suggestion. No need to get snappy.” He sipped his coffee. In the background I could hear Darcy mumble something that sounded awfully close to the word ‘monsters’.

“Yeah, well, I’m really tired of you suggesting the same thing over and over again. Why don’t you suggest something else? Maybe like, painting Harvey’s room a different color? Or maybe buying a new dog house because the other one is too small for Puffles? Oh yeah – that’s right – I’ve been suggesting those things.”

Axel shook his head and said nothing. It was only a few years later that I would be finally persuaded to talk to Leigh.

I sat on the couch, the book I was reading sat closed on my lap as I watched Harvey intently. He stood in front of me, cue cards in hand as he practiced his speech. He was nominated as Head Boy for his school. This speech needed to be recited in front of his peers – he did not stress enough how important this was.

I felt a smile form on my face as I watched his hands shake a little and his lips take on an anxious smile. He truly did take after his father in the public speaking department. Nervous as all hell. He would never let you see it though.

As he continued to speak, Darcy came running downstairs. She had a backpack on her back and a concerned expression on her face.

“Mom, can I go to the park please?” She shifted her weight from foot to foot.

I shot her a disapproving look and faced Harvey again as he continued to speak. He eyed Darcy for a split second before facing me again.

“Mom, please I need to go.” She rushed out.

“Wait until your brother’s done.” I said calmly.

She huffed and stomped her foot, “Mom! I need to go!”

“Hey!” I raised my voice slightly, “I said, wait.”

As quickly as she came towards me, she walked away from me towards the front door. I stood up from my seat, startling Harvey.

“Darcy! Come back here. Now.” I pointed my index finger at her.

“I don’t have time for this.” She raced out the front door and down the street. I hurried to the front door and called for Axel. Harvey followed me.

“It’s about those damn monsters again. I just know it.” Harvey said. Quickly, I looked at him.

“What did you say?”

“The monsters,” He rolled his eyes, “She goes on and on about them. I spoke to her the other day I said, ‘Darcy, you’re twelve years old you’-”

I ran down the driveway before he could finish, “Get your dad. Tell him to meet me in the park ASAP!”

This is ridiculous, I thought, we’re crazy. The whole family is crazy. Our genes are messed up.

In less than 10 minutes I reached the children’s play-park. It was a simple looking park. Swings, slides, a small, broken merry-go-round. It was considered safe because of the fence, you see. It was fenced off from the forest that loomed over it. It always seemed as though the tall trees and the dark green leaves that made up this forest had constant clouds over it. It was a deep contrast to the park that was always drowned in sunlight and emitted children’s laughter almost as powerful as the sun’s rays – if not more.

On this day though, there was no laughter. No sunshine. Just clouds. The sky was a dark grey and the cold wind snapped at my bare arms. I was in a simple t-shirt with leggings I had just managed to fit into again.

The closer I got to the park, the closer I could see the kids. There was about eleven of them. Ten. I had mistaken one of the little dog statues for a child. I saw Darcy, putting the backpack down and talking to the other kids. I couldn’t make out what she was saying from how far away I was. They seemed frantic, restless. They moved about in anticipation. They kept looking at the sky. Once I looked at it again, it got darker. Almost the color of tar.

“Darcy! Darcy!” I called. She didn’t hear me.

I picked up the pace. The weather was turning ugly and all I could think about was taking my daughter back home.

“Darcy!”

Quickly, she turned.

“Mo……m!? What…..you…….here!? Go……….home!” The wind picked up and it made it almost impossible to hear her.

“Darcy, come home, immediately!” I yelled.

“What?” She asked, a confused expression taking over her face. She couldn’t hear me either. I got closer. Darcy looked at the boy who stood next to her and pulled something out of her backpack. As I walked closer, I stopped from a split second noticing what it was: A crossbow.

I ran. I ran to her. “Darcy, put that down!”

Finally, I reached her. The wind was almost blowing me to the other side of the park. The clouds were rotating around each other. It seemed as if a heavy hurricane had just come into town.

I grabbed Darcy’s arm and pulled her to me.

“Darcy, we’re going.”

“Mom! Let me go!”

“No, Darcy, I’ve had enough of this monsters bullshit!” I snapped.

“It’s real, mom! They’re real!”

I began to pull her away from her friends and the backpack. She pressed her heels further into the ground.

“You need help, Darcy! We can get you that help!”

A loud rumble rang through the air. The ground vibrated and the trees shook. The wind had stopped but the sky was still dark. Silence filled the air.

“What was that?” I whispered.

Another rumble.

“Mom, go home.” Darcy replied.

I looked at her, shocked, “Darcy, what-?”

“Go. Home. Mom,” She yanked her arm free from my grip, “trust me.”

“I – What do you mean?” All of a sudden, I was back in my room with Leigh. Her leg bleeding profusely and her exhales of pain filled my ears. My head was spinning and the coppery smell of blood was filling my senses. I could picture the weapons in her bag so well. Did she have a crossbow? I don’t remember there being a crossbow, maybe there was a crossbow?-

Another, louder, rumble. This time it was followed with a roar of sorts.

“What the-”

Before I could finish my profanity, a figure stood over the trees of the forest. It was massive and above all else, I couldn’t figure out what the hell it was.

It had the body of a spider, with twelve legs instead of eight. It’s neck and head resembled the one of the Lochness monster. Long, with eyes that burned yellow.

When it opened it’s mouth to roar again, a waft of decay hit my nose. It completely erased the smell of that night. Suddenly, a high pitched sound caused everything to shake around us. The chains of the swing rattled and my knees shook. I placed my hands over my ears and closed my eyes. It’s roar sounded like voices screaming, layered over each other.

When I opened my eyes Axel stood next to Darcy. In his hands, a missile launcher. I furrowed my eyebrows. “Axel, what the fuck?”

“Cleo,” he said. He never called me by my first name like that. Not with that tone anyways, “Go home- and call Leigh.”

#monsters #fiction #works #writer #scary #thriller #action