I keep hearing that awful 80′s song by Flock of Seagulls. And I ran. I ran so far.

When I was seven, my mother had my brother Wyatt. When I was eight, she had Wynn. They called them Irish Twins in an ignorant attempt at explanation. I was old enough to take care of myself, so why wouldn’t I be old enough to care for a toddler and a baby? As they laid the emergency contacts on the table, I felt trusted, powerful and maternal. It would be easy, my mother said. They had been changed and fed and held and put down for the night. All I had to do was make sure that the three of us were alive when my parents returned five hours later.

Sometimes, things can be so bewitchingly simple that you believe they are easy. But as all religious and atheist individuals know, that does not make it so.

Obviously there were signs, even to a child, that hinted at danger. But you must understand that we lived in a house that ran on creaking doors and supressed breath. My father loved films, including horrors. He was desperate for a companion to bring comfort and levity to the terror he regularly subjected himself to, and, starting at only seven and five, my brother and I served as a solution. We would be made to sit and watch, without comfort or respite, the worst that Stephen King or the horror director du jour had to offer. And when the trauma ended and the credits rolled, we would be brushed into beds in rooms that were allowed no light.

To a child, a house is very much like a heart: there are many chambers that we know are required to function, but there are far more dark corners that are haunted by The Unknown. After being subjected to gore and death, we were gently pushed into our respective restrooms to brush our teeth and prepare for sleep. Our parents had no time for the frivolity of fear, and the fear of my mother suffocated any imaginary demons. After getting ready, we would go to our rooms. One night, I walked into my room knowing that something was not right. There was a presence. I climbed into bed and looked at the moon, hoping to be somewhere safe. As I began to doze, the impossible manifested.

A single closet door moved ever so slowly but notably towards the wall.

As I gazed at it, I knew that what I saw was not, could not possibly be, right. But despite the string of logic my brain wove, there it was, opening slowly and silently. I knew I could not leave without being eaten by whatever the dark held. After ten minutes, I made up my mind to fight, and I ran. I leaped of the bed and called for my mother. As my tiny hand grasped the doorknob, I felt two massive hands squeeze my ribs and lift me into the air. I screamed, and it was met with laughter....but laughter I knew.

It was my father. He had hidden, as he often did, to terrify us.

It is not a lovely or funny story. I only tell it to you so that you understand what that house was like. It had been haunted by many, but it was haunted most aggressively by the living.

On the night that I was left with my brothers, everything was quiet. There were no storms or power cuts or black cats. It was just a boring, easy night. I was told to look in on them every hour, which I did dutifully. I adored those boys. I adore them now even more.

After approximately two hours, I was downstairs reading Jane Eyre in rare silence when I heard him. It was a sound that immediately inspired panic despite any knowledge. Somehow, I heard a single breath and knew it was my brother breathing his last.

I ran up the stairs and could barely open the door. Wynn was awake and standing in his crib, crying and reaching for his brother. Following his red eyes, I saw. Wyatt was in his crib, blue of face, choking and gasping.

There was no time. There was simply a child that could not breathe. I did not know what I did or why, but I found myself in the street, holding a blue boy, on the phone with first responders, screaming for help. After a few minutes, the adults rushed out of their well appointed homes and took my brother from me. An ambulance came. I remembered Wynn. I ran inside and brought him down, thinking in my infant mind that something might be wrong with our house. I stood there for a few minutes, watching the paramedics check one precious gem as they tried to revive the other. I overheard one say “He isn’t breathing. We have no pulse.”

I ran. I ran so fast and so far. I knew that I had killed my brothers. I had disappointed my parents. I had ruined our home. The ghosts had been a joke, but now I had made two of my own. So in that sable summer night, I ran and I ran until I fell, and more until I was somewhere I didn’t know. I could never go home. I had one job. “Just keep them alive!” my mother had said, her voice like silver against glass. But I hadn’t, so I kept running.

When I awoke, it was to the voice of a neighbor I knew. He picked me up and carried me to my home. I cried as we turned the corner, grieving not only the loss of my brothers but also the loss of my parents’ love. I wept until I slept. As he handed me to my father, he said “She’s been through a lot, but I know she’ll be best at home.” I remember the feel of my father’s big arms and hands as he took me, assuring the neighbor that my brothers and our family was fine.

When I finally woke up, it was to the beautiful glittering sound of babies’ babbling; they were fine. They lived. I kept them alive. But even now, twenty years later....

I run.

“We can’t keep running forever,” Finn gasped, barely keeping up. Naomi rolled her eyes, remembering why she never took him along on these trips.

“We’ve barely been going for five minutes Finn, anyway we are almost there,” Naomi replied. She began to pick up her pace and made a sharp right as the voices behind them began to increase in volume. She tried to calculate in her head the best route to get back to the hideout. The longer way was usually better; especially when she was being followed; but she doubted Finn would not make it that far. She would have to only take a few extra turns she decided, it was risky but better to get back with followers then not at all.

Naomi looked behind her, unsurprisingly Finn had fallen a few feet behind. He had stopped trying to run; instead, leaning against the alley wall breathing heavily. Naomi sighed heavily before sprinting back and grabbing his arm. He resisted, leading him to almost land face first on the pavement.

“I can’t,” He said as Naomi dragged him along. She listened carefully; the voices were growing nearer, but they still had time if they were smart about it.

“You have to,” Naomi hissed, pulling on Finn’s arm a bit harder. They had to keep moving, if they wanted to live. She looked in both directions before tugging Finn to the left. It was a risky path to take; but it was much quicker. She held on tightly to both Finn’s hand and the bag that was slung around her shoulder as she did so.

Suddenly she heard another Voice. This one coming from not far in front of them . Hastily she spun around. Cursing under her breath she pulled a confused Finn around the corner they had just come from.

Finn looked at her about to speak; but before he had the chance she pushed him against the wall and covered his mouth. Finn’s eyes grew wide as Naomi held him tight pressing her body close to the wall as well, doing her best to hide in darkness that wall and the night provided. Just then, two large figures emerged from the darkness talking loudly as they passed by continuing on the straight path; not noticing the voices in the distance or the two teenagers huddled against the wall. The two stood there for an extra minute. Before Naomi pulled herself free of the wall and grabbed Finn's arm once again dragging him on the path they had tried to travel before.

“Who the hell was that?” Finn whispered.

“Not important,” Naomi replied trying to end the conversation even though she knew very well that wasn’t how this was going to work. Naomi and Finn had been best friends for most of their lives. Growing up as next door neighbors and moms that were best friends, it was inevitable. They had been inseparable. The only catch was Naomi’s Job. She didn’t hide it of course, but she also didn’t go out of her way to talk about it. After all, some things are better left unsaid. However one too many video games night missed and Finn insisted on coming along. He knew all too well what he was getting into, and with little time to protest; and despite having better judgement Naomi just shrugged and let him follow along, figuring she could just save them both if they hit any trouble; which rarely happened. Of course trouble had a way of appearing at the worst times. It didn’t help that they were in a high danger area, but Finn was not in any state of going the long safe way; not while they were being pursued. Now as her mind raced with regret she wondered if they would survive.

“Seriously Naomi what is even in that bag?” Finn asked trying to break free of Naomi’s grip and failing. Naomi just shrugged. This was the truth. Naomi had kept her job for the past 3 years. Most people barely kept the position for one. This was due to several things. First, unlike most she was young and fit, able to handle the danger. Second she followed the rules. Pick up the item, bring it to the location. Third, she never asked questions. This was the main reason for failure; curiosity was often a good thing, but not here. Here, the less you know the better. If you thought you knew something it was better to pretend like you didn’t and you never ever questioned what you were picking up. Over the years of working with the same bose Naomi had some hunches, crazy ideas she might add; which was good. The more fiction her assumptions were the easier it was to deny they were probably true.

Caught in her thoughts Naomi hadn’t realized that Finn had gone silent for several minutes. This was not a good sign. She had made a mistake. It was at that moment Naomi saw what had caught Finns eye, what had silenced him. In the corner of the block they were heading towards there was a figure. Standing tall and wide. It was too dark to see the more than its shape, but that didn’t matter. The shape in front of them mimicked the shape animal similar to a bear however it’s body was distorted it’s limbs proportioned in a way that didn’t make sense. It’s stood on its back legs the way it held itself less animalist and more human. With a quick glance someone could easily mistake it for a large animal, but stare at it for longer and it was obvious something was wrong. Naomi’s breath caught in the back of her throat. She knew what this was. She had encountered one once her first year on the job. It was much further away though. She would have been dead if it weren’t for another coming by at just the right time and walking her through the steps needed to survive.

She stared at the beast in front of them, they had already locked eyes. This made things much more complicated. The easiest way out was to go unnoticed. That’s what the stranger had shown her last time. Stick to the shadows. Put distance between you and you would be fine. They were not that lucky today. Even so he had told her the rest of the rules. What to do in this case. She had never been so grateful to anyone in her life.

Slowly not breaking eye contact she searched through the air until her palm hit Finn's arm. She grabbed on and slowly backed him into the shadows holding her breath she watched the beast. It’s eyes stayed locked with hers; it didn’t blink. Step two had failed. Naomi took a deep breath. She knew there was one other option. She also knew not many survived it. She stared down the path opposite the beast. The first door opened just a crack a tiny bit of light seeping through. It was close, she only hoped it was close enough.

She didn’t break eye contact as she ripped Finn away from the wall. Pulling him to quickly for him to process what was happening. She knew this was the only way, he didn't have time to resist. With her eyes still on the beast she raced past him. Full speed, Finn barely keeping his feet in pace. She Turned her head away just second after passing it. This was the risky part. Eyes locked it saw you as something that didn’t have fear, as somewhat of an equal. Turn away and the ruse was up, it would remember what it was; and recognize you for what you were. An unmistakable sound came from behind them, causing Finn to falter and fall to the ground. Naomi didn’t stop dragging him along. She had never been more glad for her strength and the time she spent training then in this moment. The last second she slid through the door, just as Finn let out a yelp she pulled them both through slamming and locking the door behind them.

Naomi and Finn lay on the ground, breathing heavily. The bright lights and the loud cheers of people celebrating engulfed them. Naomi didn’t waste another second. She looked at Finn behind her, his knees and palms were bloodied from being dragged the short distance. On his lower leg was a nasty cut. It would need stitches but he would live. The one good thing about the beast was it was not poisonous, it didn’t need to be. Knowing Finn would be fine, Naomi pulled herself to her feet and pushed her way past the group huddled together, drinking, and laughing. They cheered as she passed, trying to chat, offering her drinks, asking her questions. Naomi ignored them; she wasn’t done.

Making it through the crowd and pushing her past the bartender Naomi opened the door behind the bar. Behind the door lay a small dark office. All but one light was off, not much was in the office aside from a desk, a plant, and a few black and white pictures that hung on the wall. The chair behind the desk was turned away. This always made Naomi want to roll her eyes. Dramatic flair did not impress her.

“Well done,” The Man in the chair said turning toward her a wicked smile on his face. “I see you got it, I hope it didn’t cause you too much trouble.” he smirked.

“You know, nothing I can’t handle.” Naomi replied placing the bag on his desk. He let out a laugh in reply before sliding open the bag and peering at the content. His smile grew wider as he looked back up at Naomi.

“Very well done girl,” He said. Naomi nodded watching him slide the bag out of view as he motioned a nod that told her it was time to go. She nodded back before exiting the office. She Went to join the others and a concerned Finn. she would stay for a drink or two and then bring him home. She knew so much lay ahead. She would have to explain to Finn that she was fine. This was her job, her life. Bigger things lay around the corner and she need to be a part of them. She was ready, and she would never stop running.

“Be careful because you need to check the altimeter as you are going down. If your view gets obscured you will ne-“

The wind roared as the plane door opened and whatever critical information that was being imparted was sucked out into the open sky, soon followed by a line of heavily armed and armoured men, each taking their turn to stand at the exit and briefly pause before stepping out into the air and dropping out of sight.

All sound disappeared. The sergeant’s screams of “Go! Go! Go!”, the peppering of bullets, the intermittent radio communications; sucked into the void by the wind. Soon it was his turn. He paused at the door and the sound rushed back in.

Boom! He stood still, paralyzed as he observed the aftermath of a massive explosion that rocked the earth below him. “Be careful”, he thought before stepping over the edge.

Together to gather, they come to that room. To banter and babble and then move all about. The children are happy and there are balloons, but many have fallen and popped under the shuffle of shoes.

The people play music, that seems really cool, for jumping and dancing and getting too close. But most people stay glued against the long wall, near 99-cent-store decorations and all.

Overcome with nervous energy, there is a lack of activity. This keeps going despite the festivity. A beat finally plays, as no one will go. They opt instead to dance not ever. Choosing instead to stay young forever.

Together,

a wondrous word

dispelling

solitary

lonely

alone

as we two

You and I

journey

along

life's

tortuous roads

deeply caring

wholly sharing

our

heavy loads

with love

laughter

and tears

anxiety

and fears

steadfast witnesses

to the lives

we hold dear

till death do us part

always together...

forever.

I’ve never had any money left over after paying my bills. And now my crotchety Uncle Bert has gone and died, leaving me everything! But wouldn’t you know it – there’s one catch. On his deathbed, old Bertie whispered to me, “You’ll get everything but you have to agree to kill my ex-wife, Aunt Edwina! If you don’t keep your promise, I will know wherever I am and the consequences will be dire.”

Well, I didn’t really harbor bad feelings toward my aunt. She had always baked me cookies and handed me a twenty every now and then, ’just for fun.’ But what could I do. I reasoned that I needed the money more than I needed her. After all, what’s a broke fella to do?

I had to think this through carefully. What’s the point of being caught if I don’t get to spend the money? I knew that poison could usually be detected so that was out. If I strangled her, it would leave broken blood vessels in her eyes. If I shot her, maybe the gun could be traced to me. A knife wasn’t a bad idea but what if it didn’t finish the job or the knife blade broke or I got cuts on my hands.

I finally decided on a fire. Her little wooden house was crowded with knick knacks which would be very flammable. I knew I couldn’t use gas to ignite it because that would make it seem like it wasn’t an accident. It was getting colder so I asked old Auntie if she’d like to borrow my heating blanket which I was about to throw away since it had an electrical short. The last time I had used it, it had started smoldering and almost caught fire.

The next night, it was colder than a snowball in Hell. I slept fitfully as I waited for the news of the disastrous fire knowing I was her only family.

The fire department called to tell me about the terrible news the next morning. “It burned so hot that we can’t even find the body. She must have been completely incinerated,” they advised me.

Since there was no body to bury, I erected a nice plaque in her church in her memory. Next, I got on a plane to Argentina where I planned to spend the rest of my life, living the high life.

I have to tell you something but don’t tell anyone. Auntie Edwina was sitting next to me on the airplane. I just couldn’t bear to kill her after all those years of cookies and money slipped to her favorite nephew. She deserved to enjoy some of the money after suffering all those years with miserly Uncle Bert. But, unfortunately, we are not in Argentina, after all. The plane went down over the ocean two hours into the flight. And I swear I could hear old Bertie laughing, “I told you there would be consequences!”

Uncle Bert had always been the black sheep of the family. It’s no small secret; basically everyone in our family - from my mom to his mom - hated him. That’s probably why when he died last week, no one bothered to attend his wake or funeral except for me, the priest, and his one, creepy, and highly unlikable friend, Fred.

I never did understand how he and Fred became, or more importantly, remained friends, and I suppose I never will. And I was okay with forgetting about Fred and letting this mystery of the universe go unsolved until I got a voicemail from Tom Preston, senior partner at Preston and Wicks and my recently deceased uncle’s estate lawyer. Apparently, I had inherited something and I needed to see him right away.

I had just finished an eight-hour shift at McD0nalds when I got heard the message and I was pretty tired. Well, more like exhausted really, but the promise of an inheritance was too good to pass up. I worked a mediocre job for even less than mediocre pay and I could really use the money, so I called him back and set up an appointment for 3:00 pm next Thursday, on my day off, so I could drive an hour to Houston and then drive an hour back because this had to be done in person for some reason.

Now I can see why.

“…And those are the terms of the inheritance. Do you understand?” asked Tom Preston, the well-dressed man sitting across from me. He was an older gentleman, but imposing all the same. Is it because he’s a lawyer, or is it because I work at a McD0nalds? I’m not really sure; I guess that’s another mystery of the universe I probably won’t solve.

“I’m sorry; did you just say a hundred million dollars?” I asked in stunned disbelief.

“Yes,” he affirmed.

“A hundred million-”

“A hundred million dollars.”

“And if I don’t-”

“Then it all goes to Fred.”

“Hmm…” I pondered out loud as I weighed my options.

To be honest, I didn’t really like the condition my uncle set for his inheritance, but I really wanted the money and there was no way I was giving it all away to Fred, so I did as my uncle wanted and I joined the KKK.

Honestly, it’s not that bad. Everyone was really nice to me, and I even met a girl. We’re getting married next month.

Thanks Uncle Bert.