I understand that to most people it will be reserved to the movies, and I will admit that the whole scenario is growing more intimidating to me regardless of my acceptance of it. There really is nothing right now that would make me feel any better, but I am starting to believe with every passing moment that there are about a million things that can make me feel worse and that list grows by the minute. I could hear a faint voice that was like a quiet yelling “Stacy, Stacy!” and after looking around in my confusion I saw my son pointing to a corner of the room and just being quiet otherwise.
I darted to the corner where my telephone hung from its usual perch on the wall and grabbed the receiver “I’m here Mary, I got rather busy there for a moment and then I spaced out a bit,” my mind started reaching for the right words to avoid having to explain to much like I always do, “I’m sorry that I didn’t get back to you …”
She finished my sentence for me, “… but you were sitting there with a seven-foot-tall freak that looked amazingly similar to me?” and I just stood there looking dumbfounded at my son who was the crowned prince of dumbfounded by this point anyway. Mary started talking again as I tried to continue breathing normally, “I heard my voice arguing with your friend the Devil there and assumed that the other one probably wasn’t me,” she said with about as fake of a laugh as I had ever heard in my life. I was curious as to what she knew as she appears to know about Lou’s great secret and must have come to that conclusion before I had.
“Since you seem to know a bit more about this than anyone other than me do you mind telling me how you drew your conclusions?” because in all reality I could use any help I could get at this state of the game. I was still wording things so that my son would not be involved. I know it sounds silly since he is sitting in a kitchen that has a broken-out doorway and a six or even seven-hundred-pound stove pushed aside like it was nothing and a lot of other little eccentricities that do not fit, but I am still in shock here too.
She cleared her throat and started explaining, “Lucifer was easy actually because anyone that has kept up on the ancient writings, which I guess would be about a half dozen of us with no life, would know he was the most beautiful angel,” she paused for a moment to collect her thoughts, “it wasn’t his power that corrupted him it was his vanity. The deadliest of all sins for a reason Stacy,” then she thought for a second and said, “The intoxicating abilities that he had were all too obvious as soon as I could snap out of it. The big freak that showed up around the same time he did was just a good guess,” and again she tried to muster up a weak laugh in what I would assume was a way to make me feel better. It failed as I looked at my son who was scared, very scared. I did not know what to do with him while I tried to have this conversation with Mary.
I realized that the best thing for me to do was try to end this conversation and try to deal with the looming insanity that my poor child was facing along with his crazy mother. I decided to end the conversation as best I could, “Mary, I’m going to have to let you go while I straighten things up and get Jake back to bed,” and immediately Jake started making noises as if he was going to have some sort of huge protest in all of this, and I shot him a look that silenced him immediately. Primarily you do not make a commotion when someone is on the telephone for God’s sake. “I will call you back as soon as I can Mary, thank you for checking up on me,” and with that I hung up while Mary was still making a bit of a protestation of her own on the other end. I then turned to Jake and said, “Ok mister, you need to get back to bed for school in the morning,” and walked over to begin shooshing him off to bed.
In a very rare act of defiance Jake didn’t even get up from the chair he had fallen into, and just looked at me and said, “You’re kidding right?” and when I stopped short and gave him the look that would usually tell him not to argue with me, he argued with me. “Mom, you had a fight with a sixty something year old woman in the kitchen, threw appliances around and smashed apart the doorway to the living room. Can’t you at least think up a story to tell me and get me to believe that you have not lost your mind? I mean seriously this is the type of thing that is going to scar me for life here?” and then he looked around the room studying everything expecting an opportunity to poke holes in whatever it is I produced to tell him.
I looked at him and said plainly, “How bout, this one? You just watched me beat up a woman older than your grandmother. Do you think that I will have any problem beating you up considering that you don’t have another living relative within two hundred miles of here and the police would simply leave you with me afterwards since it would be a pain in the ass to find your next of kin?” and he did something that looked oddly like a gulp. I cleared my throat and continued, “how about the fact that none of this happened since you just saw me talking to Mary on the phone and when they show up, they will think that I beat your ass because YOU are insane? Think they will take you to a lovely place then? Think your dead father will get you out of there?” and that last bit sent him scurrying down the hallway and up the stairs. Lord knows he was not going to get any sleep, but he was out of earshot. My chances were fifty-fifty in either direction.
I walked over to the stove after I heard Jakes door slam shut upstairs. He was going to need a real explanation for all of this eventually, but I was still holding out hope that one of these freaks was going to kill me and then I would not have to worry about it. I should be so lucky but moving that stove back did not help me feel any more powerful in this world. I looked at the bashed-out doorway, and the scary part was that I was figuring on an insane repair bill which should have been the furthest thing from my mind, but I was not playing with all the cards anymore anyway. The phone ringing almost sent my head through the ceiling, but I scrambled to grab it just so Jake would not come out of his room, and in a quiet panic managed to say, “Hello?”
The voice on the other end was that of Mary once again, damn that woman really wanted to get involved in all of this and all I wanted to do was hide somewhere and wait for it all to pass over my head, she immediately started in with the questions again, “So tell me about that big scary man that had come after me?” and I wasn’t in my right frame of mind as it was without reliving my new under-worldly nemesis.
I decided it was best to just get it out into the air so that I could get on with the insanity. “The other one is named Darius, and he is an angel created by Lucifer,” and that got a surprisingly good gasp out of her. I continued along, “I don’t know why but he has to deal with him here on Earth because of some laws and rules that omnipotent beings go through,” and my bored tones as it came out was awkward considering, and on second thought I probably should have watched what I was saying as well. At that point I did not care, I was exhausted, and I was trying to get out of this with myself and my son intact. My sanity is shot anyway, I could save his. I added while Mary was doing her Hail Mary’s and other things that the truly religious do during times like these, “Strange things happen whenever he touches me, so I think he’s fascinated with me,” and then I trailed out of what I was thinking because it sounded like I was not thinking.
It was odd the way Mary seemed to ignore what I just said and went on with what she was thinking, “You do realize that the end of the world is coming, and your friends there are just two of the horsemen of the apocalypse?” and I was a little perplexed over her calling them my friends. I mean Lou was perhaps and thinking about it I would not dare say that aloud. How strange to be having this conversation? I think under different circumstances I might have made a joke about the whole thing. I might have wondered who the other two horsemen were and how in the name of God they could compare to these two. I mean realistically they are THE BIG TWO. “I have a feeling that God himself …”
“Herself,” I found myself interrupting out of new habits of enlightenment. It stopped Mary completely short, and she was thinking about what to say next. In my little world it was different to be the one to shut down someone who knew what they were talking about, but then again, I never actively participated in any conversations before that were anything special. How sad is that when you think about where I stand in the world at this point, but I miss the old me from a few days ago at this point in the story too.
Mary had collected herself and started speaking again as if she was “Well perhaps God has forsaken this world then, and it would be best for us to understand what all of this means,” and then she paused in a very odd manner, “perhaps she walks among us too, and we need to find out who she is so that we can help her to solve all of this?” and you’ll have to forgive the way my brain works but there were some strange red flags flying around my head listening to Mary talk now. I could not put my finger on it but the truly zealous never accept so easily the questioning of their faith. I am sure the mere mention of God being a woman would not mean much to the average person but to a person like Mary? “Did your fiend mention to you anything about what God might look like, in case she happened around?” and that really made my brain stammer. Mary would be kind enough over my inference that God was a woman, but she would never accept the whole fact that she was a woman? I was simply being too critical since she had accepted that I was an expert on deity and all?
I couldn’t help but be cautious now even if I was trying to be less jaded and accept something could be that easy, “No, come to think of it Lou never brought up her looks at all,” and then I listened to see if there was anything strange in the background on the other end. Nothing was out of place, and I was starting to feel silly now. I was also quite sure looking back on it that I was not ready to have the conversation that Mary wanted to have over the phone. I was not up on all my biblical death scenarios, and I also was not keen on the whole concept of sharing what I know with anyone either as I have figured out that I do not know who I know anymore. The more I shared with her the less comfortable I felt and not more comfortable. That does not mean I could leave her out of the loop either since she accepted my unholy alliance and all that curtailed.
I really wish I could have fathomed this entire scenario out on the fly, but I could not so do not take my growing intelligence to mean I was born with it. It was pounded into me over the last week, and what I would not have given to be bright enough to see how stupid I was every step of the way. “To be honest with you Mary I do not know what is going on and I am as in the dark as anyone about all of this. I just happen to be the one that they hang around I guess, but I will try to keep you up to date on what is going on if I can,” I finally replied just to see where it would lead us. I cannot even tell you why I could not drop my suspicion I just could not.
Mary said completely unexpectedly, “You could always see what that piece of parchment was that is on the floor, I bet it has an answer of some sort,” and I looked around frantically to see where the parchment was. It was like a gift when I saw the parchment had been left behind and had fallen open on the floor just on the other side of the shattered doorway. I could clearly see the writing on it as I had before, only this time it was darker and bolder, far more inviting. Curiosity was not my friend either as I realized that somehow it must be important. It was only a few steps and a bend over to finally see what that stupid piece of parchment was all about. By the time I was standing over it I could not think clearly, I just wanted to have answers. By the time I was on my hands and knees and my hand was hovering over I my survival instincts kicked in.
Sitting back on my calves I spoke into the phone while keeping a serious calm over myself. I was acting for an audience that was not even in the room, but the world has become such a smaller place for me as of late, “I cannot understand the language written on the paper, parchment, or whatever it happens to be Mary. It does not appear to be any help,” and then I just let the words fade out and listened, while I examined the parchment on the floor. The language on it was strange and indecipherable. The ink was of a strange quality, it bled through and in points it clumped leaving stars that soaked into it. The script was fanciful whatever language it happened to be. The porous nature of the parchment was grainy and older than anything I have ever seen.
Even with my gamesmanship I felt like a total idiot for getting this far into an obvious rouse, but what am I supposed to do? I could not stop leaning over the parchment, but I wanted to start crying about my stupidity. I do not even know why manipulating me is so damn important, or what exactly I have to do with any of this. The small voice in my head was not helping me any either. It was just telling me that I was a dummy or spelling out horrifying scenarios that would happen now. There was also that voice that wondered whether I was becoming equally enlightened to a lot of these things as I was here and I figured out what was going on. There are always two choices when danger is around you, and I chose the slow and less interactive method as I just listened on the phone line to someone, I knew was not Mary anymore. As you already figured out, she had no reason to know that parchment was involved in this scene too. I still do not think the frantically freaking out and running around in circles method would have done me any better here.
Now I was given a little hope, as Mary started talking, “You need to pick it up Anna, or else you won’t be able to read it at all,” and I learned two things in that statement. The first being that she or whoever that is could see me, and that is not great, but secondly, I was fooling whoever it was somehow with my behavior. Now I was thinking that there is a real reason behind getting that parchment into my hands. I am sure it was obvious all along, but now it was more of a strange feeling like that parchment had meaning that was important to everyone, and as the last girl to the prom I had been missing something. The voice of Mary came over the phone again almost startling me as I had been in my own world for the last minute or so, “You know that … CLICK” and the phone went dead on me.
Immediately I jerked my head to the left and saw that the long cord to the phone was still intact and the phone was still attached to the wall. I looked around quickly in a panic of sorts expecting something bad to happen, and then jumped to my feet terrified, dropping the phone when the dial tone came on. I sat down in the chair that Jake had occupied less than an hour ago, and the clock on the stove I used everything in me to move said it was only eleven, fifteen. What a long night I thought to myself as I sat and waited for my heart to stop pounding. The parchment was still on the floor a few short feet in front of me.
It was time for the insanity to wash over me again, and with that goes all the rewards of talking to your imaginary friends. In the end they are all you have. I looked down at the parchment and said, “I don’t know what you mean to me but I am sick of letting you just lay around like a sacred object,” and before I had even gotten the word “object” out of my mouth, the words on the parchment dissolved and more words in some strange language I couldn’t read materialized. Demons and Lucifer himself were second nature to me at this point, but scraps of old paper that wrote on itself was about too much to handle as I pushed the chair back until it hit the table and would move no further. “What the hell?” I said too loudly and then sat motionless listening for my son. The parchment erased itself and then started writing upon itself again.
It was a great side show the first time, but of course it did not affect me as ferociously the second time. The parchment was answering my questions, but I could not understand what the answers were. I was terrified that something horrible was going to happen to me the second I grabbed that parchment, but how could I just sit here and accept the ignorance of not grabbing that parchment. I had a distinct feeling of petty drama going on in my head. It was like the way I felt when I was in Junior High School and all the mean girls would pretend that they had a secret just so they could not tell you what it was. The cost of getting that secret out of them was horrible and you knew it, but you just had to fall for it every time. When you were finally able to stop falling for the “I have a secret” game, you were about to graduate from High School. This is where I miss a whole lot of life, regardless of how much I seem to understand now. Lord knows many girls finished High School assuming that the games were over until they find out about Sororities.
In my case I was always on the verge of sanity now. What a difference a day makes in the life of a young woman huh? Meeting the devil and an angel of his tends to give you fewer worries about what could happen next. Death is an acceptable alternative to everything, and I know that bucks the trend of living every moment to its fullest that all the cool kids are talking about at the end. I got down again and picked up the piece of parchment without giving it a second thought. No strange feelings, no weird happenings, no doom, no dread, just an odd feeling scrap of parchment. I had never felt actual parchment before and had done nothing more than read about it in school or seen people playing with it on the History Channel. My fingers rubbed against it giving me a real feel of it, but I turned it over and over in my hands until I saw what I wanted to. It was plain English written on the parchment and not any of those fancy old words that would have confused me easily at this point in the story. The words were scrawled across it in a quickly written but neat enough script, “Trust nobody and no matter what, don’t ever lose me.”
In an instant of terrifying reality, I found myself pressed up against the wall again, throttled by a seven-foot monster of a man, staring me strait in the eyes. I could not make a sound since the wind would not come out of my lungs, and Darius speaks, “Now what does that note say?”
If I were not in the most awful pain since childbirth I would have been laughing. Seriously if this were a movie that I was watching I would be that one person in the movie theater laughing like a sick jerk, aggravating everyone else in the theater. What little I knew about the world at this point, and what less I knew a couple of days ago I knew something here that Darius did not, and it was just the pain that kept me from pointing it out to him. I could not speak so his stupid demands were pointless. I simply struggled until the change in my color might have made it obvious to him. The second he let go of my neck and dropped me I started coughing curled up on the floor at his feet between him and the wall. His ingenious plan of kicking me while I had been down there pushed me beyond the threshold of pain, and I started laughing, between my coughs.
Darius was in a complete fury when he picked me up by my hair and stared me in the face, but he had pushed me past the edge. I cried, I coughed, I laughed but I could not control myself in my hysterics. He banged me against the wall, and I saw stars, lots of stars like something had been knocked lose inside my brain. I could feel blood in my mouth coming from somewhere, Lord knows where, but I launched it all into Darius’ face. It was not really spitting but more of a coughing, throwing up, and lunging feeling that I had expelled all the blood that was filling my mouth so quickly that I had nothing else to do with it. Had I been able to talk blood would have been flying everywhere anyway. The face of Darius had gone so far out of control that he looked like his face could rip open, and in an instant I saw him no further, I just felt a quick motion like when the faster rides at the fair make a quick drop and you lose your stomach, and then I went tumbling to the ground, where I laid sprawled for God knows how long.
Now bear with me as I explain to you all that I had not lost consciousness, but I had my eyes closed. I am sure that it is a reflex action to try not to see the last thing you will ever see alive. Do not ask me why, I have just become an expert on these things as of late. I could feel a very cool Kansas style breeze on the back of my neck, and I wondered to myself if Darius had thrown me through the wall, and now I lay outside my house waiting to die. I was just wanting it to end, I wanted Darius to finish me off, I felt something brush along my back and shoulder and I shot bolt upright not as ready to die as I had thought I was, and my eyes shot open to see I was surrounded by privet hedge. I also did not have blood in my mouth, and I was clearly nowhere near my house, since as pretty as this privet hedge was, I did not have any on my street let alone my house.
Now I was crouched in a very thick bush of privet hedge that was very dense and unkempt, which my mind started thinking was a shame. I always wanted to get around to transplanting some to my walkway after I saw them put it around the school. The sun above me revealed that it was no longer nighttime as well and what I was doing in these bushes and what I should be doing next are totally lost on myself now. Of course, a few minutes ago I was having my body totally shattered by a psychotic angel, I should not complain about my surroundings or my state of mind. I did not know as much as I thought I did, but I knew that Darius loses control around me in the same way that I lose control around Darius. I also seem to have my wonderful time jumps whenever Darius is around. There must be something to that but damned if I know what. It has been a God send to me though. I could feel myself in a looming panic though when I consider the way Darius just appeared out of nowhere and tried to kill me, and that kind of impending doom can really change your attitude. I could be doing anything and then just, BOOM, die. My eyes were getting itchy and watery, and I was doing everything I could not to start crying. This was the worst time to start getting emotional and just start crying, but I had no control over that emotional release anymore.
The parchment was still in my hand, and I could feel tears welling up just behind my eyes, because I was scared. I was more than scared I was trapped, and I did not want to play this game anymore. My body was fine, and anything and everything Darius had done to me was either in the future or somehow never happened. I would assume it is the latter because I do not remember hanging out in these bushes. I hate this confusion. I hate the world right now, it is completely unfair, I had done nothing in my life to deserve this. The tears started flowing down my face and I was having trouble breathing. I was choking up and I could not control my emotions. Some good this was going to do me, but something felt strange in my hand, a burning of sorts, so when I opened it up and the parchment fell open it read, “I’m scared too, but we will be ok.” ... To be continued
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