A man by the name of Gabriel has special visions that let him see the afterlife. He tried to preach his version of the afterlife to others but this unfortunately ended up in him being shunned for being a heretic or Satanist. A girl by the name of Naomi is a bisexual atheist. Most of her life she was shunned for her sexuality and for being a nonbeliever in God. These are two completely different people with completely different religious views yet both of them are socially ostracized for different reasons. By chance they meet each other at a community college. Not too long after sparks began to fly between the two. Could they find solace in each other? Or will they let everyone’s thoughts on them create an unfixable split between them.
A streak of light flies through the sky, The clouds open up and begin to cry, I scan the scenery that laid before me, I see there is no way I can flee,
I race through the meadow, My eyes darting about for a willow, My hair is dripping wet, And I break out in a cold sweat,
Warm memories envelop me like a blanket, My father who went by the name of Talcott, My other father who called himself Elorm, Both of them embraced me in my room, under a storm, They told me, “Don’t fear the storm. Brave it!”
In present day, I shiver, but I stand firm and tall, I puff my chest as if I’m going to brawl, I open my shoulders and spread my feet, And shout, “Storm, you won’t have me beat.”
As if the storm beckoned me, A streak of light raced toward me, And enveloped me in a golden glow, It was a death blow,
Pain coursed through my body like never before, My skin felt like vapor, And then all at once, everything went black,
I awoke in the hospital bed, And realized I was not dead, A grin began to form, And then I said, “I braved the thunderstorm!”
“What a mood,” Tatum laughed.
“Yeah tough luck Malik,” Theodore said.
Suddenly Richard started to shout in pain.
“Jesus are we all going to go out in pain?” Gabriel asked. “That isn’t fair.”
“It looks like I’m going to disappear too,” Richard said. “Does anyone know where Malik is?”
“He is gone,” Malakai said.
“I see,” Richard said. “He was a nice fellow that guy.”
“He would’ve liked to hear that,” Loretta said.
“I cannot wait to reunite with my family,” Richard said, and then he vanished.
Then Theodore started to scream.
“No!” Loretta cried. She embraced Theodore. Then Theodore started crying.
“I don’t want to go,” he said. “I want to stay with you.”
Loretta sighed. “I’ll always be in your heart. Just like you’ll be in mine.”
“I will do my best to become healthy weight,” he said excitedly to her before he vanished.
Loretta soon was next, and she said, “I’m glad that I was actually innocent.”
Then Daviron burst into the room. “Why am I glowing and in pain?”
“You’re disappearing,” I told him.
“But I miss being on Earth-,” then he vanished.
“I know I won’t see Naomi again because neither of us exist,” Gabriel said. “But a man can still hope.”
“Goodbye,” Tatum told Gabriel. “You are pretty cool!”
“Same for you,” Gabriel said. “When you aren’t annoying that is.” Then he vanished.
It was Susan’s turn. “No. I have to return back to my murderer!”
“No you won’t,” I reassured her. “Cause you don’t actually exist. You will never see him again.”
“Thanks,” Susan smiled. “That's one good silver lining.” Then she disappeared.
“I’m next,” Malakai said. “I cannot wait to go back to Hell.”
“That just sounds really weird,” Yash said.
“Agreed,” Joel said.
“Let me enjoy my thing,” Malakai grumbled. Then he vanished.
“Goodbye everyone,” Joel said. “Smell you all later.”
“Bye, Katsu, Yash, and Josephine,” Tatum said. “I may have screamed like a banshee from pain, but I will still go out in style!”
“Goodbye,” Yash said. “This is by far the craziest memory I had of all my lives past and present.”
“I’m last,” Josephine said. “Since everyone else is gone, I’ll just say that I hate you enormously. But I appreciate that you allowed me to save my sister Josephine.”
“Yes,” I said. “Again I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Josephine said as she was glowing. “I want to continue to hate you.”
Then she vanished. The last of my characters were gone.
I fell to the floor with a tear stuck in my eye. I had waited very long to summon my characters, and never did I expect them to low-key teach me the meaning of life. I smiled.
“I’m glad I wrote you all,” I said. “And I guess I’ll return to my writers workshop now and continue my next story!”
The final character showed up in my sanctum, a teenage schoolgirl who I recognized as Josephine. She understandably looked confused.
“I must be in a dream,” she said.
“Who is going to tell her?” Tatum asked. “I could if you want me to describe it eloquently.”
“Yeah, so I created you,” I told Josephine. “I determined everything that happened to you.”
“So you are God?”
“Whatever you want to think of me,” I said.
“Am I dead?”
“Yes but actually no. You are between the living and dead.”
“Alright,” Josephine sighed. And then she slapped me square in the face.
“You are a terrible God!” she screamed. “You let my parents die and leave me to be an Orphan. You let me be adopted by awful parents! You let the real Josephine become a vampire and be tortured psychologically and physically by said awful parents. How could you?”
I sighed. “Josephine, I deeply apologize for what I did.”
“I’ll never forgive you!”
I stared at everyone in the room. All my characters - each suffering because I wrote them to suffer. Never in all my life, had I felt such immense guilt.
“I’m truly sorry everyone for all that I did to make your lives miserable.”
“You literally are the sole reason our lives suck,” Susan said.
“Agreed,” Josephine said.
“I acknowledge this,” I said. “Nothing I can say or do will atone for my actions. I-”
Suddenly Malik collapsed and started screaming and writhing in pain.
“What the hell is happening?” Richard cried.
“Seeing a big muscular guy just collapsing like that is haunting,” Tatum said.
I rushed over to Malik and saw that he was slowly disappearing. His time was nearly up.
“You are going to vanish soon,” I said, my heart sinking. “You only got a minute of life left.”
“I see,” Malik said. “Will I see my friends again? Hugo? Mr. Zharvis?”
“No,” I said. “This magic spell conjured up a consciousness out of nothing. It made fiction, reality. You will cease to exist once you disappear. I’m truly sorry. If only I could’ve made your story better-”
Suddenly an idea went off in my head like a lightbulb. “What if I rewrote your story? What if I rewrote everyone’s story?”
“That way if you were ever summoned again, you’d be happier people. Maybe those who read your story will be happier too!”
“No,” Malik said weakly. “Don’t.”
“Why?” Susan asked. “That's a great idea!”
“I agree,” I said. “Malik … why wouldn't you want me to rewrite your story?”
“Katsu was it?” Malik began. “As people, we are our memories and experiences. You wrote our story. You made us how we are. If you rewrote our stories, you’d essentially be erasing who we are and replacing us with another character who looks like us.”
“You’d be making us OOC,” Joel said.
“Exactly,” Tatum said. “I wouldn’t want to be rewritten as a dumb blonde bitch.”
“You are already one,” Theodore said.
“Shut up.”
“All of us have stories and backgrounds,” Malik said. “And you created all of us for the express purpose of carrying on a message to the people that read our stories. The message of my story is clearly that we can overcome our traumas.”
“My story has a message too,” Loretta said. “My story would be a warning to everyone about the evils of the Salem Witch trials.”
“Mine is about how life can get tough but there can be good in it,” Gabriel said. “Mine is about meeting Naomi, the love of my life.”
“My story would be a message that the mistakes of your past don’t define you,” Yash said.
“My story doesn’t even really have a message,” Tatum said. “Though I was kinda selfish and forgot to prepare tea for my mom that one time.”
“My story would be about appreciating the stuff you have in life now,” Richard said.
“Mine is don’t let others make you question yourself” Joel said.
“Mine is that we need to be resilient and brave in the face of danger,” Josephine chimed in.
“I don’t know about you all,” Susan said. “But, Katsu, please fucking rewrite my story. I DON’T WANT TO BE MURDERED BY TED FUCKING BUNDY!”
“Aside from Susan,” Malik said. “You wrote our stories and gave meaning to them. Rewriting them just to give a happier ending would ruin the meaning of our characters. So please, don’t change anything.”
Malik’s body was visibly translucent. He had a few seconds of life left.
“Do you all agree?” I asked everyone.
“YES!”
“NO!”
Everyone said yes except for Susan who said no.
“Very well,” I said. “I’ll respect your dying wishes, my friend.”
“Thank you,” Malik said. His body started glowing and he was finally vanishing out of existence.
“But before I forget, goodbye, Richard,” Malik said. “It was nice to know you.”
“Who are you?” Richard asked him.
“WHAT?” Malik cried and then he disappeared.
“What the hell am I doing here?” Malakai cried. “I was just enjoying burning in Hell, a second ago!”
Malakai was the next character that was summoned. He had a particularly tragic story, next to Loretta Winfried and Susan. He had played a minor part in his brother’s death, and the guilt had stayed with him for his entire life. The guilt was even enough to make him want to stay in Hell, when he rightfully belonged in Heaven.
“You were what?” Loretta said. “You went to Hell?”
“Yeah,” Malakai said. “I was burning in eternal flames.”
“Oh my god,” Loretta cried. “How did it feel?”
“Painful and amazing at the same time.”
Loretta turned pale.
“Anyways, what is going on?” Malakai said. “What am I doing here?”
“Alright so-” I began.
Ten Minutes Later . . .
“This is all kinds of fucked up,” Malakai said.
“I agree,” Theodore said. “We are in a huge pile of fuckery.”
“Don’t worry,” I said. “All of you won’t remain here forever. You will only stay in this world for an hour before returning to nonexistence … I mean back to your own worlds. So far Malik, Theodore, and Richard have roughly half an hour here, while Loretta and Daviron - wherever he is - have a little less than forty.”
“Could you bring us back now?” Gabriel asked.
“Yes,” I said. “But Loretta would return right back to moments before her execution. Susan would return right back before Ted kills her. Theodore turns back to a home where his aunt enables his toxic self-destructive behavior. Daviron returns to a world where-”
“I got it,” Gabriel said. “Most of us besides me have shitty lives that you wrote for us.”
“I apologize for what happened to you all,” I said.
No I don’t, I thought.
Suddenly, someone else was summoned. I saw Tatum, a teenage girl.
“Oh my god,” she cried. “I was literally walking out of the movie theater just to be here? What is going on?”
“Um,” I began.
10 Minutes Later . . .
“You have to be shitting me,” she said. “So I got magically warped away into the evil clutches of a madman who created me? WILL SOMEONE PLEASE SAVE A DAMSEL IN DISTRESS?”
“We’re all damsels in distress here,” Malakai said. “Or a swain in distress?”
“Are you a Drama student?” Gabriel asked Tatum.
“Yes, how did you know?”
“My girlfriend, Naomi, took some drama classes and practiced on me,” Gabriel smiled. “I respect drama, you know. It takes a lot of hard work.”
“It does!” Tatum cried. “Staying in character is super hard! Making sure my acting comes across as authentic and not annoying or bland. My family always writes me off as a drama queen without considering the nuances.”
“I feel you,” Gabriel said. “I had special visions and everyone wrote me off as a weirdo whenever I told them about it. People can’t appreciate something new because they are too foolish to understand. Or they are jealous of us for being unique.”
“Yeah,” Tatum started blushing. “That was kind of hot.”
“NO,” Gabriel yelled. “I am twenty-two right now, and I have a girlfriend. I believe I mentioned Naomi.”
“My bad,” Tatum said. “Geez chill. Also by the way you reacted, you must’ve been super triggered. Maybe you do-”
“Shut up before I strangle you.”
“Oh dearest no!” Tatum cried. “You mustn’t hurt me for I am a fair maiden.”
Gabriel ran toward Tatum, and Tatum cackled as she ran away.
“What is going on here,” a voice I hadn’t heard before. Before me was Joel Archer, a character who had the ability to smell something pertaining to the future.
“Same question,” another voice said. I saw a man who reassembled Yash, a brilliant character who developed a device that allowed one to glance into their past lives.
“You know what?” I said. “Let’s put that on hold. I’m tired of answering the same question over and over. You’re here cause I sent you here. Enjoy. Believe it as some wacky dream or whatever.”
I had been trying to conduct the spell of summoning my characters in the stories for years. And now that I had finally done so, it didn’t feel satisfying at all. I couldn’t establish any semblance of a civil normal conversation with any of my characters … and it was because I was the villain.
I had never considered that my characters would genuinely hate me. And I don’t blame them in the slightest. I wrote some characters to be executed or brutally murdered. I wrote some characters with tragic stories. The only character I wrote to have somewhat of a happy ending was Gabriel and Yash. I guess Tatum also counts because I wrote her to be a normal dramatic girl with nothing crazy that happens in her past or her future.
Why did I write so many characters with awful stories? Perhaps because my own life sucked. I often accidentally made tons of devastating spells as a child. One time my parents forced me to eat my vegetables. I didn’t want to do that so I turned my vegetables into vanilla cake. My parents admonished me, so I turned their grilled chicken into live chicken. I also frequently set their clothes ablaze.
As I got older, I was known to be socially inept. Nobody wanted to talk to me, and I was too afraid to talk to others. This progressed into adulthood. I wanted to pursue a professional writing career, but nobody read my stories.
Naturally, I felt miserable all the time, and I channeled all this miserable energy into my stories. I wrote characters who suffered like me, or worse. My writing provided an outlet for me that made me feel a bit better. This was generally a good thing, but now that I summoned my characters, they were no longer names on a page. They were live, flesh and blood humans with feelings. And I was the one who made their lives hell.
“Stay away from me, Satan’s spawn!” Loretta Winfried screamed as she took off one of her shoes and threw it at me.
I dodged, and the shoe hit Theodore instead. He howled in pain.
Next time I should’ve levitated that shoe, I thought.
“How dare you hit my son!” Richard yelled. He got so riled up that he fell off his wheelchair.
“Let me help you up,” Malik said. He picked up Richard and gently placed him on the chair. “You know, you remind me of Mr. Victor.”
Mr. Victor was a character in my story who was one of the Orphanage staff. He treated Malik very well, and was tragically killed off during the Orphanage attack. Mr. Victor also had a wheelchair.
“It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts!” Theodore cried.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to throw the shoe at you! Let me help,” Loretta rushed over to Theodore, forgetting about me. Thankfully.
“Who is Mr. Victor?” Richard asked.
“Someone who made my childhood better,” Malik gave a soft wistful smile.
“Poor child,” Loretta said to Theodore. “It's sore around your nose. I didn’t mean to. It hurt so much.”
“It does hurt like hell,” Theodore said. “But honestly, I hurt a bit everyday.”
“It is because of your weight,” Loretta said. “I haven’t talked about that, but your weight is enormous. Your life is at risk.”
“I know,” Theodore said. “But I don’t know. Life is already hard, and I just don’t have the fucking energy to do anything but eat.”
“I know,” Loretta said. “But child, you are a sweet adorable thing, and your life is worth fighting for. So you must fight for yourself! You must lose weight so that you don't die prematurely or if you do die, you die without any regrets.”
I knew Loretta was talking about herself with that last sentence.
“How do I begin? Doctors gave me a lot of papers that would help me and I threw them out.”
“I’ll write some food that is good for you,” Loretta said. “And I’ll write a simple exercise regimen that is good for beginners. Feel free to ask other doctors if my help isn’t enough.”
Loretta went into her pocket and pulled out a notepad and a pen and began writing.
Meanwhile, Malik and Richard were engaging in their own conversation.
“How is Mr. Victor now?” Richard asked him.
“Dead,” Malik said. “He was killed.”
“I’m sorry,” Richard said. “Did they arrest the murderer?”
“No,” Malik said. “I wish I was stronger so I could’ve fought and killed his murderers.”
“You shouldn’t be guilty over that,” Richard said. “His death wasn’t your fault. Someone I know was also killed. A long time ago, my best friend Anthony was shot. And you know why? It’s because he was driving to my birthday dinner. Had I not had that birthday dinner, he wouldn't have driven down the wrong lane, and he’d still be alive.”
“I guess we both have guilt,” Malik said. “How do you deal with it without going insane?”
“After speaking to a therapist, I learned that I shouldn’t blame myself for something that wasn’t even my fault. You too, Malik was it? Don’t blame yourself. You shouldn’t feel terrible about stuff other people did.”
“Thanks,” Malik said. “Also, what is driving and what is a therapist?”
“You don't know what a therapist and what driving is?” Richard laughed. “What kind of world do you live in?”
Suddenly, I heard someone else get summoned.
Finally someone new, I thought. I turned around. It was a man who I recognized as Gabriel. Gabriel was a character who essentially had visions of his future wedding ever since he was a young child. He was the first character I decided to write to have a happy ending.
“This must be another vision,” Gabriel said. “Only this doesn’t look anything like Heaven.”
“That is because you aren’t in Heaven,” I said. “My name is Katsu and I summoned you to my magician’s sanctum.”
“You are a real magician?” Gabriel cried. “Why did you summon me then? Are you here to kill me because you heard about my visions somehow?”
“Of course not,” I said. “I literally created you and your visions.”
“You are God? I knew a God existed. Are you a christian or muslim god? Or are you just a random god?”
“The christian god and the muslim god are the same,” I said. “I’m pretty sure you should know that as I wrote you to be in Theology class. Also, I’m not a god. I'm a human with magic.”
“You wrote me to be in Theology?” Gabriel asked. “Who are you?”
“Don't be too hard about it,” Malik told Gabriel.
“Yeah I’m probably in some dream or vision that is weirdly realistic and vivid,” Gabriel said.
Suddenly, someone had a muffled scream. At the corner of the room, I saw the next person who was summoned. It was Susan. I wrote her to be one of the numerous women who was captured by Ted Bundy.
“What the fuck, excuse my language,” Gabriel cried. He rushed over to Susan and ripped the duct tape off her mouth.
“Where am I?” Susan screamed. “I must be in some dream before TED BUNDY KILLS ME.”
“Ted Bundy?” Gabriel asked. “Ted Bundy isn’t going to kill you. He was dead for twenty years.”
“Wait. What year is it, right now?” Susan asked.
“It is 2009 for me,” Gabriel said.
“What?” Susan asked. “It is 1974 for me.”
“Oh god,” Gabriel said. “You are from the past. And I’m pretty sure Ted Bundy killed a lot of women in 1974.”
“So I’m going to die?” Susan started crying.
“Not if I can help it,” Malik said. “I will kill this Ted Bundy for you. I have a hammer.”
“He has a gun,” Susan said. “He’ll shoot you dead before you do anything.”
“What is a gun?”
I kinda regret making Malik’s world from before 1AD.
My eyes were wide with shock and excitement at what I had done. My staff slipped from my hands and hit the floor with a creak. I was staring at a tall muscular man holding an even larger hammer in his hand. His eyes were full of horror.
“Are you Malik?” I asked him.
“Who are you? Where am I? ” Malik cried as he lifted his hammer. “How do you know my name?”
“I know you must have a million questions,” I said. “Don’t worry. I’ll answer them all. Firstly, I am Katsu - short for Katsu106. Secondly, you are in my magic sanctum. Thirdly, I know who you are, because I created you.”
Malik was the main character of the first short story I ever wrote. I was known throughout my community for being an aspiring writer who engaged in emotional dark fantasy stories that were occasionally humorous. I was also known for being an eccentric magician, and today, I managed to accomplish something I’ve been trying for months to do - summon the characters I wrote in my stories.
Malik looked at me confusion. “How did you create me? Are you the goddess? Am I dead? But you are a guy.”
“I am not a goddess,” I said. “I am a magician. And you aren’t dead or alive, because you technically don’t exist.”
“Then what do you mean by creating me?” Malik asked.
“I wrote a story about you,” I said. “I created you, Hugo, Zharvis, and everyone else you know or see. I essentially orchestrated everything that happened in your life and the lives of those around you. I caused the people to invade the Orphanage and kill many of your friends. I caused you to become a bounty hunter. I-.”
Malik was growing angrier by the moment. “You … you made my life hell?” He swung the hammer, but I uttered a spell to make the hammer disappear.
“Cant have my head fly off,” I said.
“You are despicable,” Malik screamed. “I swear on Master Zharvis’ name, I’ll kill you.”
Maybe I messed up, I thought. I was so excited to summon my characters, that I forgot how my characters would react.
Suddenly, I heard something hit the ground with a large thud behind me. I knew I had summoned someone else. Another one of my characters.
“Who are you?” Malik shouted.
I turned around to see a short kid who was morbidly obese. I immediately recognized him.
“Hello, Theodore,” I said. “Welcome to my sanctum.”
“What on earth?” Malik cried. “How are you this wide? I never thought it was possible to be this big.”
“That's because your story was an action novel,” I said to Malik. “And it made more sense to write only characters with god tier, realistically unattainable without steroids physique in your story.”
“Wha-,” Malik was confused again.
“Where am I again?” Theodore cried. “Where is Aunt Jolie? Also, I’m hungry.”
“Don’t worry,” I said. “You’ll survive without a meal for a few seconds. Or maybe not.”
I heard another thump. My summoning spell to summon all my short story characters seemed to be working extremely well . . .
I turned my head to see a man in a light blue hospital attire. He was in a wheelchair.
“Hello, Richard Kirkson,” I said. “Are you in good health?”
“Oh so that’s my name?” Richard said with newfound wonder.
“I am not even going to ask about this man,” Malik said. A man trained to be a killer, who fought all kinds of people, giving up mentally because he saw a man with dementia in a wheelchair, was hilarious.
“Hey gramps,” Theodore said. “Have some hard candy on you?”
“Hey Richie,” Richard said to Theodore. “How are you doing?”
“Who the fuck is Richie?” he asked. “My name is Theodore.”
I saw someone get summoned in front of me. It was a man in an astronaut outfit.
“Daviron Junior,” I said. “Welcome!”
“What?” Daviron looked with shock. “You are a human in a magician outfit? Not an astronaut outfit?”
“Yes,” I said. “My name is Katsu.” “But this cannot be,” Daviron said. “Earth was completely destroyed. Did I somehow transport myself to an alternate universe?”
“Yes,” I said.
“Even so,” Daviron said. “This is … this is.” He removed his helmet and I could see tears in his eyes. “I’m finally back on Earth, even if it isn’t mine. Let me leave this house and explore outside a little.”
He ran out of the room.
“What the fuck?” Theodore asked. “A man with a hammer? An old man? Now an astronaut? What the fuck is going on?”
“I know your Auntie Jolie isn’t here,” I told Theodore. “But you should still mind your language.”
Malik just stared absent-mindedly, as the old man started repeating his name over and over.
“I wonder who else is going to show up,” I replied. “I’d like one of my female main characters to show up. I’m all about feminism after all.”
As if on cue, a woman appeared right in front of me. She wore old Puritan clothing that told me immediately who she was.
“This must be a dream,” Loretta Winfried said nonchalantly. “A dream right before my execution as a witch.”
“Oh don’t worry,” I told her. “You aren’t actually a witch. You are just a human I wrote to be unfairly sentenced to execution in the Salem Witch Trials. If anything, I’m the witch here.”
“WHAT?” Loretta screamed as she slapped my face. “Don’t you DARE accuse yourself of that.”
“You allow a mere woman to hit you in the face,” Malik asked. “But not me? How is that fair?”
“You were going to hit me with a fucking hammer,” I gently reminded him.
“Anyways, Loretta. I am actually a witch. I literally summoned you and everyone else in this room.” To prove my point I caused a book in my room to levitate. Loretta blinked for a moment, before screaming at the top of her lungs.
Across a meadow, two children play tag, Giggling with gee and carefree bliss, They play until the crimson sunset beckons For the two children to return home
One child goes by the name of Avery, Another child goes by the name of Mei, By fate, they met the first day in kindergarten, At recess, some older kids filled with malice, Bullied poor Avery to watery tears, Brave Mei jumped in, and drove the bullies away, And ever since, they were best friends beyond compare,
They had their differences, Avery came from humble origins, And Mei from a wealthy background, But, the children, innocent as a songbird, Saw and played under the same azure sky
Upon reaching the age of 14, Mei held a wonderful tea party with Avery alone, They sat face to face on an antique wooden table, With the smell of lavender incense wafting in the air, They drank jasmine tea and had playful banter, The moment the two captured was truly tranquil And in such a peaceful moment, Avery confessed his love “I love you and you alone, Mei.” Almost as if expecting it, Mei confessed immediately afterwards “I love you and you alone, Avery.” Upon the words leaving their lips, they sealed their pact of love through a kiss, They made a silent but mutually understood pact to love each other forever,
Sadly, life had different plans, When they both turned 16, Avery’s parents announced they were moving, For they found a great paying job that would bring them firmly middle class, His heart weighed down like chains, Avery refused to tell Mei, For he couldnt bear to see Mei filled with anguish, Not even to the last day, did he speak a word, And on the last day, they both slept on the same bed, Mei was filled with happiness, and Avery was filled with regret,
When dawn broke and Mei woke up, Avery wasnt beside her, He had vanished entirely from her life, The moment she woke up that day, The friendship and love she had with Avery Was like a fleeting dream,
That day, Mei’s weeping filled the air, Her family comforted her like a delicate blanket, But a chasm would forever lay in her heart, In the distance, as Avery rode in his parent’s car to their new home, he wept, Bu, the cacophonous sound of the road, The honks, the engines, and wheels, All but completely blurred out, The sound of his cries,
Despite their pain, life went on, The sun still set and it still rose, Mei made new friends in college, And later found a boyfriend, Year by year, the pain in her felt filled itself, Likewise, Avery found new acquaintances, And found a girlfriend in college, Year by year, his regret lessened,
Many years later, Avery was married with two children, And Mei was married with one child, Avery lived in the quiet surburbs as a doctor, And Mei lived in the bustling urban world as a lawyer,
One morning, Mei woke up exhausted, And decided to go to a coffee shop to perk herself up, She walked to a coffee shop, That went by the name of “William’s Fresh Brew.” Upon entering its doors, she was greeted by a scent of roses in the air, The shop was a vintage space, That held keen familiarly to her heart,
By a turn of her head, she saw an older Avery drinking coffee, While working on his computer,
With suddenness, the hole in Mei’s heart opened back up, The pain of his disappearance came rushing back, Like rushing waterfall, “Why did you leave without saying anything?”
Avery had came back to his old hometown, On an important trip to assist the local hospital, He had woken up from his hotel exhausted, And chose to stop by a coffee shop, “William’s Fresh Brew,” It held an air of fanciness, That felt foreign, but also close to his heart, For it reminded him of a love long past, While working vigilantly on his computer, With immense surprise he heard “Why did you leave without saying anything?”
Avery and Mei faced each other, One with anger in her eyes, And the other with shock and sadness, “I can explain,” Avery said. “Sit down next to me.”
Mei sat face to face with Avery, On an antique wooden table, But an air of tension hung in the air, And an awkward silence remained, Avery cut the silence by speaking. “I’m truly sorry.” Avery confessed that he was too afraid to tell Mei about the move, and didnt want to bring her pain, “But that brought me more pain instead.” Laying their true feelings on the table, Avery apologized deeply, And Mei, realizing that the incident happened decades ago, sighed, Knowing it was finally time to let go of the pain, With a soft smile, she said, “I forgive you.”
And both of them, tears in their eyes, embraced each other, filled with nostalgia and regret of the time lost, With playful banter, they spoke of their years past, The hardships of college, and debt, Their respective marriages and children, They spoke about their good days, the bad days, and the neutral days, Finally, when they both realized it was time to leave, They exchanged numbers and followed each other, And with smiles on their faces, left the shop home, Filled with gratefulness of finally reconciling and leaving behind their pain and regrets,
Back at the House
“Where is Jo?” Amelia asked Gilbert. “She was supposed to be here ten minutes ago. We are but a block away.”
“You mean Josie?” Gilbert asked. “That's what we agreed to call her in private, yes?”
“Yes,” Amelia said. “Where is she?”
“I don’t know,” Gilbert said. “Probably up to foolishness at school, or maybe she is disobeying us and staying at Alcott’s house.”
“She will get a severe punishment now,” Amelia said. “The girl is becoming rowdy. We have no use for her if she can’t know her place and do what she is told.”
“Josephine is nowhere near ready,” Gilbert said. “Ever since that day, we have been trying.”
Amelia began to silently weep. “Oh Lord! What have we done to deserve this? God. Why can’t you just heal our Josephine?”
“Josephine isn’t being devout enough,” Gilbert said. “Maybe we have to punish her more severely.”
“Perhaps,” Amelia said. She walked over to a locked drawer, and pulled out a key from her pocket. After unlocking the drawer, she pulled out a big wooden stake.
“That method should be used sparingly,” Gilbert said. “Josephine won’t recover for weeks after we cut her with that.”
“That should give her some proper motivation to pray to God more wholeheartedly," Amelia said. “Let’s visit Josephine now, while Josie is out doing whatever nonsense. Also be sure to lock the door, darling. Josie will have to wait if she wants to get into the house.”
Gilbert locked the front door. The door made a loud creak. Afterwards, Gilbert sighed and said “I don’t like to see our Josephine be writhing in pain for that long.”
Amelia walked over to Gilbert and caressed his cheek. “Darling, we must do this. It’s not just our daughter that is writhing in pain. It’s the demon inside her as well. Maybe if we hurt her just enough, the demon will escape her body. Or, she’ll be more sincere and forthright with God.”
“Alright. This will hurt our daughter, but it will also help her far more.”
“Very well,” Amelia said. “Let’s get armored up for protection and then go to the basement.”
They both walked down to the basement. Amelia unlocked the door, and entered the room where their daughter, Josephine was. The TV was still playing while she was sleeping on top of her Bible.
“WHAT A BLATANT DISGRACE!” Amelia screamed. She violently shook Josephine awake.
“WHA,” Josephine screamed. “Oh. M-mom and d-d-dad. How are you?”
“You were sleeping?” Gilbert asked.
“Yes,” Josephine looked down. “I sincerely apologize. I was just tired. I’ll read now-”
“This is just careless on your part,” Amelia said. “You know it isn’t even nighttime with our specially made tempered glass for you. This proves it. You simply do not care about changing your situation.”
“No,” Josephine cried. “I do. I do. I really care. I wish I could explore the outside world. I wish I could never crave blood again.”
“But you don’t care enough,” Amelia said. She showed Josephine the wooden stake.
Josephine stared at the stake in pure horror. Her eyes widened and she froze.
“Please don’t.”
“I’m afraid we must,” Amelia said. “This will make you think twice before sleeping on the Bible instead of reading it and absorbing God’s word.”
Josephine started to move back. Amelia walked closer as Josephine moved.
“I swear I’ll never sleep again,” tears filled her eyes. “J-j-just don’t touch me with that.”
“We’ll see afterwards,” Gilbert said.
“NO,” Josephine screamed. “NO!”
Amelia raised the stake, and stabbed Josephine’s thigh.
∞
At the school, twenty minutes later . . .
Twenty minutes had passed. Mr. Killian stopped reading his book, and looked at the clock.
“Looks like it’s time for me to switch to Mr. Lucas.”
“You children have been surprisingly good,” Mr. Killian. “Quiet.”
Josephine and Alcott didn’t say anything in response.
“Alright,” Mr. Killian said. “See you both tomorrow.” He walked out of the classroom.
“Alright. If you want to return to your house, now it's time,” Alcott said. “We can try to pry open the windows.”
“Yes,” Josephine said. They both got out of their seats and rushed toward a window.
“I’m not going to ask if you’re sure because I think I know the answer already,” Alcott said.
“Good,” Josephine said. They both started to pry open the windows. But the windows were indeed stiff, and proved immensely difficult. Suddenly they heard the knob turning.
As the door creaked open, Josephine and Alcott rushed back into their seats to see Mr. Lucas enter the room.
“Hello, Josephine and Alcott,” Mr. Lucas said. “Mr. Killian told me you both were very well behaved. So I have no worries.”
And I have many, Josephine thought.
After waiting for another dreadful thirty minutes, Mr. Lucas began to walk out of the room. As soon as the door closed, Josephine and Alcott rushed back to the window to try to open it again. After immense effort, they managed to pry open a slight opening in the window. But the knob turned again. Just like with Mr. Lucas, they had to rush back to their seats.
“Everything alright children?” Ms. Harrison asked.
“Yes,” they both said in unison.
Another thirty minutes passed before Ms. Harrison began to walk out. Josephine’s patience was beginning to wear thin. They rushed toward the window.
“We got an opening,” Alcott said. “If we make it larger, it’ll be noticeable. This is our last chance.”
“I know,” Josephine said. With all the strength they could muster, the windows cracked open inch by inch. Soon it was wide open. Suddenly the doorknob started turning.
“Go,” Alcott said. “I’ll take whatever punishment they offer me for allowing you to flee.”
“You’re the best,” Josephine smiled. She slipped through the window and landed headfirst on the grass.
“Ouch,” she cried. “But I need to run.”
With a mix of fear, pain, and exhilaration, Josephine started running as fast as she could home.
Mr. Killian’s eyes seemed to pierce Josephine as he walked her and Alcott to the principal’s office. He had light brown eyes that seemed to shine a golden hue, but they couldn’t be more harsher. Out of all the teachers in the school, Mr. Killian was the teacher that scared her the most, despite being almost sickly pale.
Josephine was worried about what Mr. Killian heard. He didn’t reveal much, which was either a good thing or a bad thing. She was silently praying that it was the former.
After a long walk to the principal’s office, they arrived at the doors. Mr. Killian glared at them. “Wait, Ms. Lucinda is probably busy right now. I’ll inform her of your wrongdoings before you enter.” He then walked in and closed the door.
“I really hope he didn’t hear anything crazy,” Alcott asked.
“Same,” Josephine said. “Also, I heard about how intimidating he could be to other students, and I never thought we would be on the receiving end of that, in this manner.”
“Next time, we must exercise extreme caution,” Alcott said.
“If there is a next time,” Josephine quivered.
Mr. Killian opened the door. “Come in.”
As soon as Josephine laid eyes on the principal, she was surprised. She expected the principal to look like a mean old hag. But that couldn’t be further than the truth. Ms. Lucinda was breathtakingly beautiful. Her emerald green eyes twinkled, and she had long red hair tied in one long braid that fell down to her waist. Notably, she also had pale skin.
“Hello children,” Ms. Lucinda took one glance at them before looking down at her papers on her desk. “You are Josephine Sheffield and Alcott Harrison, right?”
“Yes,” Josephine and Alcott said in unison.
“How did you get yourselves in trouble?” Ms. Lucinda asked. “I’ve heard nothing but acclaim about you from your teachers. You two have excellent grades and school participation. In fact, you two will likely end up competing with each other for the title of class valedictorian before graduation.”
Josephine blushed a little with the compliments Ms. Lucinda gave. She saw Alcott looking away, presumably doing the same.
“But,” Ms. Lucinda said sternly. “Just because you two have been doing good deeds, doesn’t mean I’ll allow this one to slide. You both will get detention tonight for four hours.”
“What?” Josephine cried. “No! I have to be home.”
“This will serve as your current punishment for getting too comfy and getting out of line,” Ms. Lucinda said. “After this, you will never sneak out of class again, yes?”
“But this punishment is too harsh,” Josephine argued. “At worst, I see kids having two hour detentions. And those are for the worst students too.”
“My decision is final,” Ms.Lucinda said. “If your parents have a problem, they can meet me here and discuss this.”
No! What if she reveals some stuff to them? Josephine panicked. No. They won’t know unless I tell them, which I won’t.
“Fine,” Josephine sighed. “I’ll willingly accept this punishment.”
“Same,” Alcott said.
“Very well. Mr. Killian will take you to the detention room.”
∞ A Few Minutes Later in the Detention Room
Josephine and Alcott situated themselves in the detention room, a place that once held a huge air of mystique for the both of them. It was a dimly lit room with rows of desks and chairs that all had some manner of drawing or writing scratched onto them (mainly slurs and degenerate drawings). The whole room lost its mysteriousness and became almost suffocating for Josephine, as she knew she didn’t belong here at all.
“Nobody, including me, wants to babysit you children for 4 hours,” Mr. Killian suddenly said. “So the teacher rotation will switch every half an hour,” Mr. Killian said. “The good thing is, we are getting paid for overtime.”
As soon as he said that, Josephine had an idea. As Mr. Killian switched to the next teacher, she could escape! But, that idea had a lot of holes. For example, if both teachers entered the room before Mr. Killian left, she wouldn’t have an opening. Also, this was an old building, and the windows were stiff and dusty, so she and Alcott would struggle to open the windows.
“What about the bathroom?” Josephine asked.
“A teacher will have to walk you to the bathroom, and wait for you until you leave,” he said. “Common sense. But it makes sense that a formerly goody-two-shoes student like you wouldn’t know that.”
Josephine sighed. I thought detention was just a study hall.
As time passed, Josephine began to feel more anxious. She needed to know what was going on in her house.
“What happens if I choose to leave?” Josephine asked. “What if I don’t abide by this detention at all.”
“You’ll get suspended,” Mr. Killian said. “For two weeks.”
“So,” Josephine said. “I’ll leave right now.”
She got up from her seat and walked toward the door. But Mr. Killian blocked her and locked the door.
“I’m afraid I can’t let you leave,” he said. “What is the point of detention if any kid could just up and leave?”
“But I know people left detention and got suspended,” Josephine said.
“Those kids are the exception,” he said. “And besides, this is a lesson you need to learn. Patience is incredibly important. It can even save your life sometimes.”
Looks like I’m not getting out.
Josephine felt sweat forming on her forehead. She wasn’t doing anything sitting still in a room for hours. As she walked back to her seat, her eyes darted around the room, looking at angles she didn’t see at her desk.
But there was nothing. The only way she could escape was via the door and window. She wasn’t going to be able to open either until Mr. Killian switched with another teacher. Since ten minutes passed, she would have to wait twenty more minutes.