CHAPTER TEN #2
Auden entered year three with the same anxiety. His school was only two streets from mine, but he wasn’t thrilled that we would no longer be in the same vicinity. I was worried, too. Who would he spend time with, if not me? The thought of him being alone broke my heart.
Dressed in my school uniform, hair tamed, and teeth brushed, I made my way downstairs to join Auden at the dining table, his own hair combed neatly.
Mrs Brighton was in the kitchen, humming to herself as she dished out three plates of food. Her ash-coloured hair was tied up in a loose bun, vanilla perfume overpowering the smell of bacon, eggs and hash browns.
Aunt Vera sat at the head of the table, a mug raised to her lips as she flicked through the morning’s newspaper. Her dyed blonde strands crawled away from her greying roots, her straight ends resting just above her shoulders.
“Good morning,” Auden and I both greeted her in unison.
Aunt Vera acknowledged us with a quiet ‘mhm’ without looking up from her paper.
“Good morning!” Mrs Brighton beamed as she carried a tray of food into the room, the smell of fried mushrooms reminding my stomach of its hunger.
“How are you liking your new school, Augustus?” Aunt Vera asked, eyeing me as Mrs Brighton placed a plate down in front of her.
It was only my third day, but I imagined that was more than enough time for most people to have formed an opinion. “It is very…clean,” I said.
“I should very well help so,” she said. “Anything else?”
I racked my brain for something, anything, to add, but nothing came. Shaking my head, I reached for my glass of water and took a long sip.
“Your father once told me you are quite studious, is that correct?” Aunt Vera asked.
“Oh. Um…yes. I like school. Learning.”
“Secondary school is very different.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I expect you to remain on top of your studies. Nothing below ninety percent in any subject. This school is expensive, and I will not have my money wasted.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And,” she added, more firmly, “I expect you to behave well in school. I will not tolerate any trouble. Is that understood?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good.”
Walking through the school gates with my head down, I shoved my trembling hands into my pockets and darted straight toward my form room to wait for the bell.
Chatter hummed through the corridors as students crowded around lockers and greeted their friends.
No one spared me a glance except for a boy I recognised from a few of my classes.
Light freckles painted his cheeks, dark green eyes blinking beneath long lashes as a smile curved his lips.
Alexander was his name. He gave me a nod in greeting as he ran his fingers through his black strands, my own lips tilting upward before the Devil infiltrated my thoughts.
He's only smiling at you because he doesn’t know what you are.
Tension shot through my body, the smile snatched from my face and replaced with a grimace. Not now. Not here. I closed my eyes, hands curling into fists at my sides.
The Devil laughed at my attempt to subdue him.
I am always here, little monster, you will not get rid of me.
Students poured into the classroom as Miss De’Lour opened the door, greeting every student with a warm smile and an enthusiastic ‘good morning’. Some students returned the greeting, others just walked past as if she were a ghost they could not see.
I dumped myself into the seat beside a dark-skinned girl chewing gum, her twin braids decorated with silver starred clips. Despite it being my third morning seated beside her, I was still yet to learn her name.
She looked me up and down, slowly, and I stared back, challenging her to look away first. She won the battle, my eyes dropping to my desk.
We didn’t say a word while Miss De’Lour did roll call and read out announcements. I sat stiff in my chair, one leg bouncing up and down while I glanced in between the clock and the door. As soon as the bell rang, I was the first to leave.
You’re lost, the Devil hummed while I stood in front of a classroom that was not my year seven history class. Scratching the back of my head, I looked around wildly, trying to retrace my steps.
“Are you okay?”
I locked eyes with Alexander, his head tilted and eyebrows raised as he glanced in between me and the empty classroom.
“I’m…looking for D3,” I said.
“That would be in D block.”
I thought I was in D block. As if reading my mind, Alexander shook his head and stepped forward to pull me by my school bag.
“Hey! What are you doing?!” I asked in alarm.
“Taking you to D3, duh,” he answered, shooting me an amused grin.
All I could manage was a quiet ‘oh’ as I followed him through the main yard and into D block.
“All the smart kids are in D3,” Alexander said. “We had to take a test on our first day. When did you take yours?”
“Um…a week before I started,” I answered, a little breathless from the quick pace he set. “Sent in the mail, I think.”
“Cool. What did you get?”
“Huh?”
“In the test…what mark did you get?”
“Oh…um…forty-seven out of fifty.”
Alexander paused in front of a classroom, green eyes wide as he turned to look at me. “Shit. Really?”
I nodded.
“You…beat me by two,” he said slowly.
I stared at him, not really knowing if he was congratulating me or waiting for an apology.
The door to the classroom opened and Mr Singh glanced in between us with an unimpressed expression, handing each of us a booklet on the day’s topic.
I dumped myself into a lone chair at the back of the classroom and avoided Alexander’s gaze as he sat near the front, his jaw clenched and familiar smile gone.
In a classroom of high performing students, it wasn’t difficult to determine who my academic competitors were.
Every time Mr Singh asked a question, Alexander and the chewing gum girl from my form room raised their hands, fighting to be the first to answer.
I knew the answers too, but I kept my hand down, not wanting to draw attention to myself.
At recess, my intention was to study in the library. I was five weeks behind my peers, and if I wanted to please Aunt Vera, I needed to be at the very top of all my classes.
To get to the library, however, I had to cross a battlefield of students in the main yard.
Drawing in a deep breath, bracing myself for battle, I took a step forward and walked as fast as I could with my head down.
A ball flew past my head, a sandwich crunched beneath my feet, a group of girls nearly collided into me and as I neared safety, Alexander crossed my path, a sinister smile contorting his once friendly face.
“Where are you going, new boy?”
I paused, weighing my route to the library.
“Have you forgotten how to talk?” he asked, head tilted to the side as his eyes roamed up and down my body.
I said nothing, my lips pursed as Alexander shifted from one leg to the other.
Good boy, the Devil praised me. Do not say a word. Look at how uncomfortable your silence makes him. He is unravelling, and you don’t even have to lift a finger.
Alexander watched me, fingers running through his hair before risking a step closer. “Why won’t you answer me, Saint? Do you think you’re better than me?”
I shook my head.
“Yes, you do.”
I shook my head again, longing for the quiet of the library I was yet to reach.
I was supposed to have a fresh start. And yet, no matter where I was, trouble followed. In Rose Chapel, I was the freak whose mother tried to exorcise him. In Cambridge, I was the new kid who supposedly thought he was better than everyone.
Alexander circled me slowly before snatching my bag, using it to yank me backwards until I stumbled to the floor, the sound of laughter flaming my cheeks. I stood, hands curling into fists, the Devil chanting kill, kill, kill.
“Why are you doing this?” I asked.
I did not understand what I had done to warrant such a response. The way Alexander looked at me suggested there was something I was missing.
“We’re just playing,” he shrugged.
“Well, I don’t like this game.”
“Too bad.”
“Leave me alone.”
Alexander placed a hand on my chest and shoved me backwards. “Or what?”
I used to run away from boys like him. The little boy from St Augustine’s would have scurried to the safety between bookshelves. But my father had taught me how to defend myself, how to be a Son of Thunder.
Kill, kill, kill.
My fist connected with his cheek before my leg swung up to slam into his stomach.
Collapsing to his knees, Alexander groaned, arms around his stomach as he leaned forward, coughing.
Good boy, Augustus.
The praise should have felt good, but as I watched a single tear slide down Alexander’s cheek, all I felt was empty.
Knuckles throbbing, I retreated toward the nearest bathroom, weary of entering due to all the mirrors above the line of sinks.
I entered with my head down, relieved to find the bathroom empty. Hands trembling, I reached for the tap, wincing as the cool water slipped through the small cracks of my skin.
The confrontation with Alexander was stupid. I did not understand what I had done to offend him. And Aunt Vera…what punishment would await me when I got home?
A light bulb shattered, the bathroom exploding in a flash of yellow before darkness swallowed the room.
My head whipped up in alarm, gaze falling upon the mirror as though drawn there by an invisible force. In the infinite pools of darkness, my reflection grinned.
Hello, little monster.
I splashed water onto my face, closing my eyes to shut out the Devil in the mirror.
His laughter filled the room, a symphony of terror flooding my veins. Why was he here? Why did he haunt me? Was I truly so evil that the Devil himself was attached to my soul?
I lifted my head to confront him.
Black eyes blinked through the droplets of water falling from my eyelashes, a sinister hum echoing along the bathroom tiles. It mirrored a lullaby, one my mother would sing as she cradled me to sleep.
My reflection opened its mouth with fanged teeth stained with blood. It trickled down my chin in endless streams, the tap, tap, tap of it filling the sink echoing inside my head.
I did not look away. I had to face him. There was only so much running a twelve-year-old boy could do.
“What do you want?” I whispered.
To help you.
I narrowed my eyes.
To guide you.
“That is a lie.”
I do not lie.
I shook my head, but my reflection remained still. Like Peter Pan’s shadow, it had a mind of its own.
“You need to leave me alone.”
I am afraid that is not possible.
“Why not?”
Because we need to survive this.
“Survive what?”
You are a monster. And that monster needs to be nurtured.
I staggered back, as though the Devil had dealt me a physical blow. “I am not a monster. You are.”
How quickly you forget that night on North Lane.
“I have not forgotten.”
You have not thanked me for what I did for you.
“You did nothing.”
You are a fool.
“Leave me alone.”
Don’t you want to protect Auden?
I froze at the sound of my brother’s name on his cold tongue. He knew my weakness—knew that I would do anything for my brother.
You need me.
“Need you?” I echoed, shaking my head. “You are the reason my mother abandoned me! The reason my father is dead!”
No. You are the reason, little monster.
“Liar!”
Tendrils of smoke poured from the mirror and slithered over my shoulders, a black mist clouding my vision while the Devil’s voice circled me like a storm cloud awaiting a downpour.
You know it is true.
“Shut up!”
You know that Auden will meet the same tragic fate if you don’t–
“I said SHUT UP!”
Glass splintered around my fist, blood spattering over the jagged reflection peering back at me. The Devil had gone and there I stood in his place, eyes watery and lips grimaced in pain.
The lights slowly flickered on, the shattered bulb repaired as though it had never been broken.
Had the Devil even been there at all?