Acelin looked over her. It was too late anyway. Even if they wanted to save her, he just ruined it all. If he hadn’t run away… “It's my fault. I’m sorry. I didn’t think—” He was rubbing his eyes, unable to process.
But T’balt put a hand on his shoulder. “Everything will be alright, as long as you’re with me.”
T’balt put his hand on Ellie’s and whispered. “I’ve got it. I’ll see you soon.” He turned to Ann. “I’m sorry. It wouldn’t have been right for me to… and I can’t—"
She stopped him with a gentle nudge to his hand. “I understand. Just be careful.”
“I’ll come find you… someday.”
“If the Looter God wills it, we will find each other again.”
Genya stared up at all three of them, wondering why everyone was speaking so quietly now. Ann took her and sat her on the sofa, whispering words that she couldn’t possibly understand and making sure her back was to the boys in the room.
Acelin couldn’t take his mind off Ellie. He couldn’t help but think this was what he deserved, bringing misery to the people around him. After a moment, he looked for T’balt. He found him rustling around in the kitchen drawers. Then he looked at Acelin, smiling with a knife in his hand. “It's alright.”
“T’balt noo…”
Then he was alone again, dragged forcefully back into that pit of loneliness and despair. Abandoned again. By those who pretended to care for him. They just couldn’t help themselves.
The body was fresh on the floor. The police were outside. So were the medics and the neighbors and the nosy onlookers.
He watched the strangers cover the body in what looked like a human-sized garbage bag and take it away. His dad was talking to the police. They were telling him that there was nothing more that they could do. His father put his hands to his face to cover his expression.
Then he fed them the story. “She was in the kitchen when some thieves broke into the window. I.. I heard a struggle from upstairs and came down as fast as I could. I tried to fight them, but one of them got a shot off. That must’ve been what killed her. I didn’t see clearly. I was trying to chase them off.”
Acelin sat down on the porch, watching the red, white, and blue lights dance like a seizing circus. He’d never seen this many people around his house before. That’s when he first started getting them: Those pitiing stares. At first, it was nice. More attention than he had ever gotten. But after a while, it felt like something was wrong with him. Like it was his fault. And he stopped looking back.
One of the medical people crouched down next to him. She had auburn hair and smelled like sweets. “Are you hurt anywhere?”
He shrugged.
“My name is Ellie… what's yours?”
He stayed silent, wanting to avoid this specific attention.
“Mind if I take a look at you to make sure you’re okay?”
Acelin shrugged and turned his head to the pretty woman checking underneath his shirt. He knew he shouldn’t have let her. She saw the cuts, the bruises, and the lacerations. Some were half-healed, and others were fresh.
“What happened to you?” she said.
Acelin looked up as his father came barging over, yelling at the woman.
“The hell are you doing? Hands off him.”
“Sorry, sir. I was just checking to make sure he wasn’t hurt. It looks like he’s got a lot of cuts and bruises on his chest and back.”
“That wasn’t this,” his dad said quickly. “The kid plays rough, gets into a lot of fights at school, ya know.”
A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
Acelin turned his head, and his father tried to rush him back inside. But before he could go, one of the police officers stopped him. “Sorry, I just want to ask him one question.”
“Don’t you think the boys been tormented enough? I mean, shit, his mom just died.”
“Sorry, Mr. Tinker. It’ll only take a second.” The man pulled out a notepad and pulled Acelin off to the side, out of earshot and eyesight of his father. “Sorry about this, son. I just want to hear it from you. What happened here?”
Acelin remembered the look on his father’s face when he was pulled away and turned his head. “Burglars.”
It took a while for everyone to go away after that. For the next few weeks, it seemed like there were always people around, poking around the house or standing outside. News reporters. Police officers. Lawyers.
And he was always forced to look at their pitying smiles whenever they passed him by. He couldn’t understand why everyone was always feeling so sorry for him. It was the way things were, outside of his control. He decided he hated them. All the adults. Everyone who looked at him with that look and did nothing about it. What good were they other than to remind him of the pit?
Days would pass. Then months. Then years. Everything just remained the same. He got a little taller. The teasing got worse. “I bet you killed your mom, you little weirdo. They never caught the burglars, did they? So that means…”
He’d get sent home early from school. Another fight. Another bad day.
“The hell are you doing with my gun!?” The side of his face was red and swollen. “You tryna die!? Then go ahead and see what changes!”
Acelin crawled to the corner of his room, where he’d sit the rest of the night. Till the hours of the morning, not because he was told to, but because that’s where he felt the safest. He didn’t bother to come into the room, not when he was upset.
He wanted it all to go away. No matter how. No matter why. He wanted everyone to go away. He wanted that feeling of powerlessness to go away. He wanted every living day not to be torture. He wanted to be free of it all.
But he was stuck, perpetually trapped in black quicksand that stopped at his neck. He felt himself suffocated. No escape. And people continued to walk by his head, pelting him with those pitying eyes. Like that was the best they could give him when what he desperately wanted was help.
Didn’t they see him suffering? Wasn’t somebody supposed to care? Then why did no one do anything? Why do they let this happen?
Why?
Why?
Why?
Why?
Why?
Why?
Why?
Why?
Why?
Why?
Why?
Why?
Why?
“It's your fault. If it wasn’t for you, she’d still be alive. But she loved you more than she did me…”
“I hate you,” Acelin said.
“The hell did you just say?” It was a couple of hours past midnight. His father had gotten home late and drunk. Acelin stayed up waiting for him in the room, only for him to get back belligerent and with no food. Acelin hadn’t eaten that day, and he also hadn’t gone to school.
All he wanted to ask his dad was if he had anything to eat, and he came in saying that. Acelin remembered wanting him to die in that moment. But he was so small. So powerless. But in this one instance, he felt he could take all that power back. “I wish it were you instead of her,” he said.
His father never opted for a belt. Instead, he would say if Acelion said adult things, then he would get an adult punishment. So Acelin closed his eyes, hoping today would be the day that his father would snap again.
Maybe this time, when he woke up, he would be somewhere else. Somewhere better than here.
“Who the hell are you?” his father’s voice said.
“Don’t you lay a hand on him, you bastard.”
He saw the stranger catching his dad's hand. There was so much rage in his face, almost like it was bleeding red, but his eyes were those of a vengeful spirit risen from the dead.
He punched Acelin’s father in the face like he was his worst enemy. His dad sank to the ground, eyes wide, staring at stars. He struggled trying to find the drawer with his gun, but there was nothing there. He looked back, and the stranger kicked him back down to the ground.
“I don’t even know you!” His dad was nearly crying. “What do you want? Money? I got nothing for you.”
The stranger punched him again and again until he could see nothing but the back of his eyelids and lost the will to continue struggling.
“Acelin.” The stranger turned his attention. He stepped over to him, letting Acelin look up at him. He was tall and thin with a black choker around his neck. And there was a warmth about him that he’d never seen before. Like he was watched over by the shadow of Acelin’s mother and that warm, infectious smile. The reassurance that everything was okay. The hand to pull him out of that quicksand and rest him comfortably on the ground.
“Nice to meet you. My name is T’balt,” he said. “How about we get out of here?”
Acelin wiped the tears from his face. “Okay.”
