Shadow Man (Part 6)

“And you brought friends?” Jesse looked down to see several shadow figures walking around at the Shadow man’s feet. There were seven of them, and they all had a distinct quality that Jesse had never seen before. Instead of the usual creatures that were composed of a uniform darkness, these looked more like smoke. Black at the bottom, lighter toward the top, as if the shadows were evaporating. The three shadows in the front that appeared to be cats of some kind were the strangest, with the likeness of oil being poured into boiling water.

One of the cats slowly walked up to Jesse, circling him and rubbing its face on his leg like a house cat before running away and passing through a wall. ‘So only the big one can break things…’ Jesse thought noticing that he didn’t feel the shadow cat touch his leg. He felt comforted by the idea that not all of the shadow figures could potentially murder him. But only just a little. For a while, Jesse had been wondering if they could somehow shift between normal shadows—or as normal as shadow figures could be—and the solid type that break desk lamps.

Jesse took a small step forward, watching how the shadow man reacted to his movements. By this point, he wasn’t even concerned with the smaller shadows, although part of him imagined one of the cats growing twice its original size and being made of fire for some reason. The shadow man made no effort to move, so Jesse took another small step forward. Still no reaction.

‘Maybe it only reacts when I’m scared?’ The idea crossed Jesse’s mind as he remembered some of the things that had happened in past encounters with the shadow man. Whenever it had taken Jesse by surprise it would move, going so far as to break things when Jesse was the most afraid. But he also noticed that when he wasn’t scared the shadow stood still. Well, the big one did. The shadow cats did their own thing just as real cats would. Then another thought ran through Jesse’s mind: ‘Why cats? I fucking hate cats.’

To test his hypothesis, Jesse walked calmly toward the shadow man, looking at in directly where he assumed its’ eye would be.

‘I’m not afraid of you. I’m not afraid of you. I’m not afraid of you.’ He thought as he came to a stop a foot away from the hulking mass of darkness. ‘But I am a little hungry.’

The two stared at each other for quite some time, Jesse staring into the shadow man’s blank slate of a face. The more they watched each other, the more Jesse noticed two grey specks on the dark figure’s face. They never became any lighter, but they did get bigger. Or were Jesse’s eyes playing a trick on him? He stared a little while longer, watching the specks become the size of a pencil’s eraser. The grew until they were the size of a human’s eyes. As he stared, Jesse couldn’t help but remember something he’d heard someone on a television show say: “The longer you stare at the lights, the longer they stare at you.” Except, in this case, the opposite was true. And it was freaking Jesse out.

“I’m gonna pretend you aren’t real for a while.” Jesse whispered to the shadow man. “I can only take so much bullshit in one day.”

With that, Jesse turned to walk into his bedroom, closing the door behind him without looking. But, just to see what the shadow man did when he wasn’t looking, Jesse opened his bedroom door a few inches to peer into the hall. The shadow man, and all his minions, were gone. Jesse closed the door again, breathing a deep sigh of relief, then stared at his bedroom door for few seconds studying the patterns in the white painted wood; his mind blank. Wanting to think, but not being able to at the moment, Jesse went over to his desk, stood his lamp back up on its base, and brushed the glass of the broken bulb into the trash can on the floor. A part of him wanted to talk to Izzy. The part of Jesse that felt like he was losing his mind. The other part didn’t want to bother his younger brother just yet, so he sat at his desk.

“I’m not even taking the Percocet anymore, and shit’s still nuts.” Jesse told himself. “And now, I’m talking to myself.” He looked down at the drawer to his right where he tossed his prescription. Because it was so full of files, and papers that Jesse never threw away the drawer never closed, the cap of the medicine bottle preventing it from doing so. Jesse pulled the bottle out of the drawer and stared at the label, reading the instructions describing how much he should take.

“Alright, fuck it.” Jesse opened the bottle with a bit more difficulty than he should have had with a safety cap and poured two pills out of the bottle into his hand. He tossed them into his mouth, trying not to think too much about what he was doing. And swallowed them, with some of the water in the water bottle he kept on his desk next to the lamp. Then he took two more pills from the bottle, and took those, too. He took the full amount of Percocet for a day in one dose. Closing the bottle and leaving it on his desk, he stripped down to his boxers and got into bed.

What Happened on Mom's Birthday (3/3)

Eva and Natasha waved as their parents backed their car out of their driveway before going back inside. The sisters sat down on the couch in the living room, and as Eva reached for the remote to turn on the television, Natasha grabbed her hand to stop her.

“Spill!”

“Where?” Eva asked looking at the part of the couch where their clasped hands rested.

“No, you said you’d tell me what you saw when you passed out on Mom’s birthday!”

“Oh, yeah…” Eva whispered. She really didn’t want to have this conversation, but figured it was going to come at some point. ‘I shouldn’t have told you about it. But I was still out of it, so…’

“Well?” Natasha stared into Eva’s eyes with impatient determination, kind of freaking Eva out.

“First of all, stop looking at me like that.”

“Second?”

Eva though for a minute. “There were…monsters…I guess. Everywhere. I mean, they were human-looking, so I guess they were actually people at one point. But, there was something wrong with them.”

“Like what?”

“Well, they looked like zombies. Straight out of those movies Benji like some much. But they had wings. Bat wings. They were all just moving rocks, or getting punished for not moving them fast enough.”
            “Punished how? Like, they were whipped or something?”

“Or something… One of them was strangled until he stopped moving. And when he started moving again, the leader, or whatever, through him into a huge hole in the ground.”
            “Holy, crap!” Natasha said, incredulous to the fact that this could actually happen.

“Yeah. I never thought I’d see that guy again, but a few minutes later, while the leader was talking to me, he just fell out of the sky and face-planted on to the ground next to the hole.”

Natasha let go of Eva’s hand and sat back. She felt a bit sick at the thought of watching someone hit the ground after falling from a tall place. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know everything, but she couldn’t help listening to it.

“The leader told me that was what purgatory was like. He said it was more ‘hell in a limbo, and nowhere near as hot’. And the people there sometimes would be killed and brought back to life repeatedly just to amuse him.”

“Why would purgatory be so messed up?” Natasha found herself nearly yelling. Eva shushed her. She didn’t want Benji to wake up, much less hear what she was saying to Natasha. He might tell their parents, who would probably send her back to the psychiatric hospital. Eva definitely did not want to go back. To her, that place was like prison: boring, and they decide when you leave.

“I don’t know. It was weird watching him actually do those kinds of things to prove a point. He set a girl on fire; told me she thought she was a witch when she was alive. He crushed a guy with a rock. And then he had someone carve his face off because he didn’t like looking at it.” Eva shivered. “That was the worst part. As soon as it was done, the leader sent him back to work mopping up blood and…other stuff.”

“I don’t want to know ‘other stuff’ means. You can skip that part.”

“Okay. After explaining what happened there, he got really sentimental on me. He said he preferred if people like me wouldn’t show up there. I guess if you kill yourself, no one really knows what to do with your soul because it wasn’t your time to die. He said most of us haven’t proven we deserve to be in hell, and that most of us are good people who felt like we couldn’t handle life. The leader told me he sends as many of us back to…life. Or to heaven to see if we can get in. That’s why I didn’t die. It wasn’t my time, yet.”

“And you weren’t bad enough to go to hell?” Natasha said.

Eva noticed the look on Natasha’s face. The one that said, ‘I’m calling bullshit’.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I’m not saying I don’t believe you…” Natasha started, choosing her words carefully. “But, that’s something I’d definitely have to see to be sure about it.”

“Why did you even ask me about it?”

“Maybe I was just expecting something else. Something less horrible. But regardless of what happened, I’m glad you’re still here with us.” Natasha smiled at her sister, and for once in a long time wasn’t reminded of songs about depression.

“I am, too,” wearing her own bright smile felt great for once. She felt like no one was judging her anymore. Like her family was finally comfortable around her. Ever since her last suicide attempt, Eva had felt as if everyone, particularly Natasha and Benji were judging her for being weak. She was glad to know that wasn’t the case.

“Hey, guys,” Benji said as he walked into the living room.

“’Sup?” Natasha said, trying to be cool. “Isn’t that what the kids are saying these days?”

Eva and Benji laughed.

“Nope. But nice try, sis.” Benji said pulling something from behind his back. “Uh…this is for you, Eva. I drew it last night.”

Eva took the piece of paper from her brother. “Thanks, bro.” She chuckled.

“You better be glad you’re actually talented, Benji. I told Dad you were up all last night drawing, when I’m ninety-five percent sure you were playing videogames. I even told him about the thing you were drawing for him for his birthday.”

“Good thing I actually drew something for his birthday,” Benji said as he walked towards the kitchen. “Hey, Eva. If you need someone to talk to, you’ve got me.”

Without waiting for her to answer, Benji disappeared in the kitchen, no doubt to forage for food like a normal teenager does.

Eva looked at the picture her brother drew, and she could swear her heart skipped a beat. “No. Fucking. Way.”

“What? Is it a family portrait, or something uncharacteristically adorable of him?” Natasha asked trying to look over Eva’s shoulder.

Eve turned towards Natasha and held up the picture.

“This is him! It’s...it’s the leader.”

Natasha looked at the very well-drawn picture. “That’s him?”

“Yes!”

“God, he’s one ugly mofo.” Natasha said as she stood up. “I’m going to get something to drink. Want someth--?”

Eva and Natasha stared at each other in silence. Both were making an effort to understand what was going on, and could see the gears turning in the other’s head. Finally, Eva asked, “How does he know what the leader looks like?”

What Happened on Mom's Birthday (2/3)

Eva and Natasha looked behind them at the front door. The opaque window had been broken, and an arm surrounded by the sleeve of a black winter coat was swinging back and forth. It seemed to be reaching for the door knob, but the window was much too high were them to reach. Natasha screamed, and ran up the stairs to their parent’s room. Eva, now very unstable, wobbled over to the front door, and locked the deadbolt as her sister forgot to when she came home. Eva sat with her back against the door and tried to catch her breath. Things seemed to be going too fast, and her vision was unfocused.

She had a clear view to the back door, where the first person in black was standing. With the drugs and booze in her system she could see two of everything. Which made watching the person raise a rock and smash the sliding glass door to millions of pieces much more frightening. As the glass rained down on the hardwood floor, Eva screamed for Natasha to hurry up, but there was no response.

“Natasha?! They’re in the house!”

‘Wait, why am I scared?’ Eva asked herself. ‘I wanted to die. And I’ll probably be unconscious in a few minutes.’

“Natasha?” Eva tried to force herself to sound calmer. “I love you, and I’m really going to me being your sister.”

Tears began to roll down her cheeks again as she realized what she had just said. It seemed to solidify that, regardless of how it happens, she was going to die today.

“When you get the chance, get out of the house and run to the neighbor’s, okay? They’ll be able to help. And call Mom and Dad. Don’t let them walk into this mess. Not on Mom’s birthday…”

Eva looked up the stairs, slowly turning her head, and ignoring everything else around her. She didn’t even notice most of it. The person at the front door was gone, but their ring had fallen on her and bounced off. The side door in the kitchen was now open, and a shorter person was walking slowly towards her. The person at the back door was almost in front of her. And there were lights shining into the house flashing red and blue. None of that mattered.

At the top of the stairs, slowly walking down, was Natasha. Only, all her clothes were entirely black, and her face was distorted, apart from Eva’s already slightly impaired vision. In fact, Eva could only tell that it was her sister because of her distinctive hair style, similar to Rihanna, circa 2008.

The person in front of Eva stopped down, much faster than they could walk, and placed his hand under her chin. They lifted her chin up to make her face them, and Eva finally realized. It was her father. But, as soon as she reached that realization, her father had thrust is index finger into her mouth, as far back as he could, only pulling his finger out when the alcohol and remnants of the Vicodin that she took earlier forced their way back up.  Heaving several times, she realized Natasha was holding her phone and the half-empty bottle of Vicodin. Eva had forgotten to put it back in the medicine cabinet. But she did remember to read to bottle, and forcing someone to vomit was not how you’re supposed to handle an overdose.

Despite her father’s efforts, Eva fell unconscious against the door.

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“Don’t forget to lock the door, Tasha,” said Bernice, looking back at her daughter.

“I’m not going to forget,” Natasha sighed. “And I won’t let Benji stay up too late.”

“Okay,” Bernice smiled. “I wasn’t going to ask you to do that, but he does stay up too late some nights.”

“He’s a teenage boy, Mom. That’s kind of their thing.”

“It’s those damned videogames,” Marcus mumbled as he put his jacket on. “I wish he’d do something more productive, one of these days.”

“He works a lot on being more creative,” Natasha offered.

“Videogames can’t help with that, can they?” Marcus asked.

“I’m not sure, but he draws a lot. He’s pretty good, too. Maybe you should check them out?”

Marcus considered this silently, with a growing smirk on his face at the thought that his son might be doing something useful in secret. “Maybe. When he opens the door to his room.”

Eva laughed at that as she walked down the stairs. “Are you guys leaving, already?

“There’s my other favorite daughter!” Marcus said Kissing Eva on the forehead and giving her a bearhug.

“If we don’t go now, we probably never will. But we’ll be back in a few hours.” Bernice said.

“Where are we going, again?” Marcus asked for the third time that day, and got the same answer.

“Don’t worry about it,” Bernice giggled. “Where’s Benji?”

“He’s taking a nap,” Eva replied. “He was…up all night,”

“Videogames?” Marcus raised an eyebrow.

“No, Dad! He said he was making something. For your birthday.” The inflection at the end of Natasha’s sentence indicating that Marcus should know better.

“Oh, well, as long as he’s doing something good with his time. Maybe he’ll work for Disney, or something.”

“Probably, not,” Eva laughed. “His work is more realistic. They look more like he took pictures with a camera, and less like he drew them.”

“Is that so? Maybe I’ll have to ask to see them when we get back from our date,” Marcus made a sad attempt to wiggle his eyebrows at his wife.

“Stop, Marcus. We’re already married. You don’t have to try to be funny,” laughed Bernice.

“You laughed, though. So, it worked.”

What Happened on Mom's Birthday (1/3)

Eva held the bottle of Vicodin in her hand, weighing her options. She could not take the pills, and pretend everything was okay like she had been for the past few years. Or, she could take them, and get on with it. The thing about committing suicide is that when you’ve decided death is the best way out it’s hard to change your mind. She opened the bottle of her mother’s medicine.

            “I’m sorry, Mom,” she whispered. “Hopefully, you’ll forgive me.”

            Eva poured a handful of pills into her hand and stuffed them in her mouth. Taking several hard gulps with a glass of water she thought ‘This is how they do it, right? At least in the movies. Maybe I should have taken them one by one?’

            “That should be enough. Well, more than enough.”

            Closing the medicine cabinet, Eva looked into the mirror noticing the puffy, red areas around her eyes. Obvious evidence that she’d been crying. She Splashed cold water onto her face a few times trying to decrease the swelling. If anyone asked, she would just say she had allergies. That sounded stupid, even to Eva, but who cared? She wouldn’t have to keep up the charade for too long.

            ‘Now for part two…’

            There was a knock at the door, and then the doorbell rung throughout the house. It had to be her sister Natasha. ‘Impatient as ever,’ Eva thought as the doorbell rang again before she could even make it down the hallway.

            “It’s about time!” Natasha said excitedly. “We have to set up for the party!”

            Looking around the house, Natasha noticed that there were no decorations, no cake, and something seemed wrong with Eva.

            “Well, it’s not like setting up for a party will take too much time, if it’s the both of us,” Natasha smiled brightly.

            Eva was suddenly reminded of a song by her favorite band, Paramore:

                        ‘If I smile with my teeth, I’ll bet they believe me

                        If I smile with my teeth, I think I believe me’

            She thought it was amazing how they can make an album that seemed mostly about depression sound so upbeat. But maybe that was the point.

            “What’s wrong with your eyes, Hun?” Natasha asked reaching up to touch her sisters still slightly puffy eyes. Eva swatted her sister’s hand away saying “I think it’s just allergies. They’ve been like this all day.”

            “You’ve never had allergies, but if you say so,” Natasha watched as Eva walked over the wine cabinet and poured herself a glass. “You’ve never been much of a wine drinker, either.”

            “Maybe I want to take a break from appletini’s…?” Eva said with a hint of annoyance.

            “Are you sure you’re alright? You’re moving kind of slow, today.”

            “Yeah, I’m fine. I just took some allergy medicine. Maybe they’re making me a little drowsy.”

            “Should you be drinking after taking them?” Natasha asked suddenly feeling alarmed at her sister’s lack of concern.

            “I’ll be fine,” Eva smiled for the first time that day. ‘Vicodin and alcohol are normally a bad match, but I’m not planning on not waking up.’

            Natasha was almost positive that something was wrong, but didn’t want to push the issue and make it worse. She’d done that in the past with other people who ended up not talking to her for days at a time. “Okay. Well, I’m going to start on the cake. D’you think you’re alert enough to put up—”

            “Yeah, I got it.”

            Natasha rolled her eyes as she turned away from Eva. “Thanks…” She decided to bring up her sister’s strange attitude up with their father when she got home. ‘No sense in making their mother worry on her birthday.’

            It had been a few minutes and Eva was feeling really tired. ‘Must be working,’ She thought as she hung up the string of letter that spelled out Happy Birthday. ‘I should have done this the first time.’

            As Eva was unsteadily attempting to pin the Happy Birthday sign on the wall, she noticed that someone was in their back yard. Thinking it was one of the neighbor’s kids trying to retrieve their football—for the twenty-seventh time that week—she was shocked to see an adult standing there, so still.

            Staring at her.

            The combination of the drugs and alcohol must have been really kicking in now. Eva was unable to recognize any distinguishing features about the person. They seemed to be wearing all-black winter clothing, which would make sense as it was snowing outside. However, Eva was unable to see their face properly. All she could see was a blur. But then she realized, the person’s face was the only thing that was blurry. The rest of them—their clothes, even the small logo on their hat—was still clearly visible. And they looked familiar.

            “Hey, Tasha!” Eva tried to sound nonchalant about this bizarre person on the other side of the window. “When are Mom and Dad getting home?”

            “They should be here in about thirty minutes with Benji. Why?”

            “Just wanted to know if I was making good time.”

            Natasha walked into the living room, wiping her hands with a paper towel. “The ‘Happy’ side is lower than the ‘Birthday’ side. Could you…who is that?”

            “You see them, too?”

            “Yeah, it’s pretty obvious that they’re there when they wear all black in the snow.” Natasha’s temper was beginning to rise faster than the temperature in the oven. Not being one to mess with, she went to the back door and opened it wide, yelling “I don’t care who you are, if you don’t leave, I’m getting my dad’s shotgun! I’ll call the police when you’re dead!”

            Normally, that would scare people away. Really, Natasha’s yelling could have caused most people to grow a tail and run away with it between their legs. But not this time. They start slowly walking towards the door, one step at a time, as if they were only now learning how to walk.

            Natasha closed the door and locked it, “I’m going upstairs to get Dad’s gun! I need you to make sure all of the doors and windows ar—”

            CRASH