Chapter Seven
The popcorn ceiling stares back at me from my place on the couch.
I made my way out here after spending the last few hours begging my brain to shut off long enough for me to sleep.
Memories of my mother took over after dinner.
The grief was too much to bare. Stir fry was always her favorite.
“Quick, healthy, and full of love. All my favorite things.” Her voice replays in my head.
“Minus you and dad of course.” I can see her cheesy wink every time I close my eyes.
Their memory has always haunted me, waiting right behind every closed door, becoming the monster under the bed.
It’s my own personal shadow, following me no matter how fast I run from it.
But seeing Lilith, and the love in her eyes, the love that would’ve had my mother squealing with excitement, broke the door of the mental safe I keep the memories tucked away in.
The grief has entangled with every vein twisting through my body.
I mourn for the man I could’ve been, one that might have been worthy of Lilith’s love.
I could see us, on a Sunday morning. The smell of hot coffee brewing through the air as we get dressed in our Sunday best. Lilith’s light giggles filtering through the air as she helps me knot my tie.
I can feel the warm embrace of my parents as we meet them outside of our church.
The soft and tender touch of my mother’s aging hands against my cheek.
I memorize her wrinkles and the stray gray hairs dusting over her dark brown curls, even if it’s only my imagination.
“You weren’t supposed to leave me,” I whisper, feeling the burning ache of a sob building behind my teeth. My knuckles turn white as I clench and unclench my hands. The grief consuming me swiftly turning into rage. This isn’t who I was supposed to be.
My lungs expand with each shallow breath, the ceiling above me growing dimmer each time I exhale. “Kameron…?” Lilith’s soft voice barely registers as I slip in and out of consciousness.
“Please- go,” I mumble out, nausea causing my stomach to somersault. The flashback begs to take hold. “I can’t hurt you again.” The couch dips from the pressure of her sitting next to me. My heart races, terrified of what could happen. “Please,” I try again, slurring my words.
“I can’t leave you, Kameron.”
Kameron- age fifteen
I watch from the top of the staircase as Apollyon paces the foyer.
His anger rumbles through his chest before it spews into whoever is on the other line.
The all black suit does nothing but add to the menacing aura surrounding him.
“The boy has proven he is a sinner. He isn’t the one. We need someone pure, someone who-”.
I completely freeze as Apollyon goes quiet.
His body slowly turns towards me, a sinister grin masking his face.
He brings his pointer finger up to his lip, pondering, while I continue to stare at him like a deer in headlights.
“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t meaning to intrude,” I stutter out, slowly backing up the stairs.
He continues to watch me, glaring up at me like an animal ready to feast on its prey.
“I will bring him this weekend,” he states calmly, before slapping his flip phone shut, stuffing it into his suit pocket.
Apollyon stays completely frozen, watching me.
The stale bread I had for dinner rises up my throat, mixing with my stomach acid.
Terror continues to push me up the stairs until I’m out of his sight.
Only then can I finally rationalize what I just heard.
He’s taking me somewhere, and it can’t be better than this.
No, Apollyon would only drag me further into the pits of hell.
I stagger my way back into my bedroom, quietly shutting the door behind me.
With what little faith I still carry, I find myself kneeling down next to my bed.
The sheets are stained from blood and piss but I can only hope my situation will convince God to listen to my prayers.
“Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee. Blessed are thou thy women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen.”
The prayer tumbles out of my mouth with desperate need.
I need to be saved, I can’t continue through this torture.
It’s too much for anyone, let alone a grieving boy who lost both of his parents barely a year ago.
My folded hands shake against the fabric as I listen for the sound of impending footsteps.
Moments that feel like lifetimes pass by as I wait, yet nothing comes.
I’m not met by the hell of Apollyon’s wrath, nor am I saved by the God I grew up believing in.
I finally bring myself off of my knees, sitting on the cool wooden floor.
The room is completely dark, the seclusion dragging the darkest memories out of me.
I slowly stand and crawl over to the bed.
Closing my eyes I imagine my mom and dad, following me in through the doorway, filling the room with light.
They ask me about my day as my mother pulls back the covers.
I slide in, listening to my dad promise another game of baseball this weekend.
“I love you my sweet boy,” my mother coos down at me, placing a gentle kiss on my forehead.
“Goodnight, champ,” my father grins as he waits for my mother by the door. At this moment I am safe. I am loved. They watch over me as I begin to drift off to sleep.
Yet the peace never lasts. It all vanishes every morning. Every time I wake up in this nightmare.