Confession

The match hissed, coming to life and throwing the flame upward. The burning sulfur hung in the air like strong potpourri. She couldn't mistake the smell of it. Suddenly, she felt the warmth of the flame on her leg. She inhaled sharply, trying to hold in her cry of pain. She knew there would be a severe burn there, but it was nothing compared to what waited her.

"Yes, my child. That is what it will feel like all over if you don't confess," the man's voice said. "We know you for what you are, but you must give up your sins and confess to God to save your soul. If you do, we will spare you the torture and end your life quickly."

The blindfold seemed to smother the room in around her. She could have been in the grandest hall and she still would have felt like she was stuffed into a closet. "Either way, I die," she said simply.

"True, true. But one way you have the chance of obtaining forgiveness. The other will have you suffering for eternity."

She could smell the garlic on his breath. It mixed with the sweat in the air, causing her to almost vomit. "How do you know? I doubt you've been there to see."

"I believe, and it is my belief that saves me."

"What you call belief, I call superstition," she smirked.

Though she could not see it, she could feel his face go red as his rage boiled. "Heathen! You blaspheme what you do not understand! I will purge you of your unbelief." He brought the flame to her leg again and held it there. She let out a yelp of pain. The flesh reddened and bubbled under the extreme heat of the match. She tried to move her leg away, but strong cords held her bound to the chair. He removed the match and threw it on the ground. It hit the damp floor causing it to sizzle. Her head rocked forward onto her chest, the pain swelling in her leg.

"You only make this harder for yourself," he said. "Just confess, and this will all be over."

Her breaths came short and labored. "I can't confess if I've done nothing wrong," she finally said.

The back of his hand flew across her face, cutting her lip with his overly ornate ring. "Do not pretend that you are innocent. You know what you have done."

"What?" she asked through the tears. "What have I done?"

She could sense his crude smile. "If I told you, then it wouldn't be your confession. You must come forward with the truth on your own to receive the full pardon of our Lord."

"I ... I don't know," she sobbed.

"I'm sorry," he said. "Maybe I can refresh your memory." The sound of the knife being pulled out of its sheath caused her to flinch. She could feel the cool steel against her cheek. He guided the blade up to her ear and with a careful flick of the wrist cut off her lobe. Her scream filled him with a sense of pleasure. "You remember now? You remember how you did this to those innocent children in your lust for power?"

The blood from her ear flowed down her neck and onto her chest where it was soaked up by the tattered rags they had forced her to dress in.

"It wasn't me," she gasped out.

"Oh, no. Of course not. But having someone else do the dirty work doesn't make you any less guilty. Just tell me what you had them do and we can end your suffering."

Her mind was awhirl. She tried to think of what he wanted to hear. She knew of what he spoke. She had seen those children as well, their ears completely severed off their head in a demonstration of devotion. But she had tried to stop them, hadn't she?

Her mind flashed back to the dimly lit chapel. They stood with stoic faces watching the priest wield his knife and mumble a prayer. The blood that soaked the cloths held by the parents that had finished the ritual with their kids seemed to stand out in her memory. She remembered trying to scream, to stop it. But she had just stood by and watched.

"You were there," he said. "You were telling them what to do."

"No," she said, almost trying to convince herself. "I didn't ... I wasn't ..." She tried to see through her blindfold into her memory and grasp what really happened. She saw herself now standing before the priest. She looked down to her own son kneeling before her, waiting with bowed head and listening to the man in robes recite the prayer. The knife glinted in the sunlight that barely streamed through the stained glass windows. Stop him! she shouted to herself, but the memory played out. Before she could grasp fully what she was doing, she saw herself with the bloody rag in her hand. The gaunt image of her child looking at her with a tear-streaked face was ingrained in her memory.

"What have I done?" she sobbed.

"Yes," he said. "Confess your sin."

She didn't even hear him. Her mind was still playing out what she remembered. She wasn't sure if it was her son's face or the feeling that she had just betrayed him that sent her over the edge, but something in her snapped. She could see herself grab the knife from the priest and tackle him to the ground. The blade was swift and before anyone could react, his ear was lying in a pool of blood. A woman screamed and she turned to see others coming at her. She had stabbed one of them before they were able to get the knife from her.

Her memory faded as she felt the tears soak the blindfold. "I didn't stop him," she whispered.

"Do you confess?" asked the man.

"I confess ..." she started.

"Yes?"

"I confess to subjecting my child to torture and not trying to do anything," she finally said. She waited for the slap that she felt for sure was coming, but nothing happened.

Instead, he came close to her and whispered, "You can't stop us." He pulled off the blindfold and she gasped at the priest before her, a white bandage where his ear should be. "Guard!" he yelled. And then, more quietly to her he said, "Never go against the church."

The guard came in and the priest said, "Take this heathen away. She will pay for her sins since she refuses to confess them and let God take them for her." The guard untied her from the chair and roughly led her from the room.

"Our belief saves us," the priest said to her with a wicked smile.

The day was bright and the light hurt her eyes that had become accustomed to the dark. They pushed her forward, causing her to stumble. Rough hands forced her back on her feet and up on the platform. They tied her hands behind the post and placed the stacks of wood around her. The oil dripped from the soaked bundles.

They stood back allowing the guard with the torch to come forward. Without fanfare, he placed the flame on the wood. It instantly ingnited and soon the entire platform was ablaze. The heat beat upon her skin, slowly changing it from red to black. She screamed in pain and writhed in agony.

Then, in what seemed like a moment of sympathy from an unseen power, she could feel no more pain. She looked out through the flames and saw her son standing alone and crying. She wanted to run to him, to comfort him. But it was too late. And just before she gave in to the welcoming darkness, she saw the priest put his hand on her son's shoulder and smile.

There's another

He hadn't gone far before he knew that he was in over his head. The dark street seemed to hold innumerable unseen threats and dangers. As he walked, he looked down the way at the parked cars and the light reflecting off the polished hoods from a single street light. The mist seemed to create a yellow cone just beneath it. In the center stood a figure with a long black trench coat and a black fleece hood covering its head.

He stopped walking. He knew he was there for a meeting, but something caused him to pause. It was a feeling inside that something wasn't right. He looked on either side of the street to see if someone else was there, but in the dark it was hard to tell.

Just then, it all seemed to flash before him in quick succession. He saw himself meet with the figure in black, then someone else came out of a nearby house straight towards them. They ran in opposite directions, but there was another person hiding in a car that jumped out and caught the figure in black. He saw himself turn to see a flash of light and hear a muffled pop in the same instance. The figure in black slumped to the sidewalk as the one from the house grabbed him as he stood there watching. He seemed to see it like a movie as the one from the house raised a silver gun with a silencer attached to his head and said, "We warned you," as he pulled the trigger.

The vision snapped like a dream into reality as his consciousness was brought back to the present. The figure in black still stood beneath the light, waiting.

He pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number. He listened to the ringing as he watched the one he was to meet with answer.

"They've found us," he said.

"What? How?" came a female voice on the phone.

"I don't know. But it's not safe. Don't look around, but there's one in the house next to you and another in the car just up the street."

The figure beneath the light stole a glance out of the corner of her eye at the window of the house just in time to see a blind flutter back into its position.

"If I run, they'll take me," she said.

"It's too late. They've already noticed that something is up. Run away from the car and the house. Now!"

Just as he spoke and she turned to run toward him, the door to the house flew open as the man he had seen in his vision came running down the walkway with a gun in his hand. The car that held the other man spun around in the street and started speeding toward everyone else.

As she ran away from the men, he ran toward her, pulling a gun from his jacket.

"Duck!" he yelled. She dove to the ground as he fired at the man from the house. His shot hit the man's right arm, causing him to drop his gun. She immediately jumped up and looked back as the man from the house held his bleeding arm.

"Come on!" her friend called to her as he grabbed her hand. They ran down an alley between two houses just as the man in the car drove up, almost hitting them but instead plowing into a white picket fence. He jumped out of the car and looked to his partner who waved his arm as a signal to follow them.

The dew from the evening mist lay on the ground like a thin wet blanket that would splash up from puddles as they ran. In and out of alleyways and cars they evaded their pursuer who kept right on their heels. Their lungs burned for oxygen as they breathed harder and harder, but they couldn't stop. It had been ten years that they had lived in that hell-hole and they weren't about to go back without a fight.

Turning the corner around the edge of a wood fence, he saw a loose board which he quickly picked up. Stopping just beyond the corner he listened as the agent following them came closer. Just as he saw him make the turn he swung with all the strength he had left at the man's head. The agent quickly ducked backwards, causing him to slide forward feet first. Like a baseball player coming into second, he quickly popped up and turned back around only to find the loose board coming straight at his head again. This time the agent didn't react as quickly and the force of the wood on his skull caused him to black out as his body fell against the fence.

The man dropped the board and the pair quickly left the scene. Looking around them and not finding anyone else following, they slowed down to a regular walking speed.

They were winded and their muscles hurt from so much running.

"My name is Chris," said the man. "I assume you are Desiree from the phone?"

"Yes," she said. "How did they find us?"

"They must have traced the call. I thought we were on a secure line, but it looks like they have feelers into almost every network."

"Have you found any others?"

"Not yet. You are the first, but I know there are more. There has to be."

"How long has it been since you've escaped?"

"Six months. You?"

"Four. I was about to give up on finding anyone else when you called. How did you find me?"

"I noticed you walking to the market the other day. When you bought an apple, I followed you home to see if you actually ate it."

"Damn. I thought I was more careful, but I'm almost glad I wasn't. I've always wondered why they didn't eat the apples."

"It's the pectin. It's poisonous to them."

Desiree looked at the apartment buildings looming before them on the skyline as the day was starting to break. Lights started flickering on in different units as people began to rise.

"They try so hard to look and act like us. They even keep the same night and day patterns even though they don't sleep. Look at them turning on the lights like a normal human as if they just woke up. Damn tweeters."

She spat on the ground as she said the slang term for the aliens.

"Well, we'd better get off the streets before they start coming out," Chris said. "My place is over on 5th. If we hurry, we should be able to make it. Then we can talk and figure out our next move."

"I'm just glad to have found someone else like me," she sighed.

Even though he didn't know her that well, he put his arm around her and let her lean on him as they walked. As far as they knew, they were the only two humans left on the planet that weren't in work farms. And, like her, he was just as happy to have someone else to share the day with.

"I'll make up some apple cider and we can have a piece of apple pie," he said with a smile. She smiled back at his attempt to keep the moment light.

"Sounds good," she said as they hurried into the dawn.

Unspoken words

He had red hair.

It was that shade of red that causes people to turn and stare. No one really knew who he was, only that he came with Kelly. And everyone knew Kelly.

Kelly Magnolia had that type of personality that people gravitated towards. Being a famous singer and model helped, of course, but her genuine care for those around her made her even more popular. What set her apart from the other populars was that she didn't look for the publicity and paparazzi that naturally followed the altruistic deeds of the stars. She was content to silently give of her means and time without regard for public recognition.

When she had first met him, he was sitting at a coffee shop, reading the daily newspaper. She had ordered her coffee and was looking at a display of musical CD's that aired over the shops speakers. She wasn't really interested in any of them. She was just occupying her mind while she waited for her coffee.

The young man behind the counter called out her order and she stepped over to the counter to grab it. As she did, she quickly turned around and let out a small yelp of surprise as a man in a winter coat was standing right behind her. She dropped the cup of coffee and it spilled over both of their legs as the top popped off.

"I am so sorry!" she said as they both raised their hands up as if that would keep the coffee from getting on them.

"That's quite all right," he said. "I should be apologizing for standing so close to you."

He grabbed some napkins off the counter and stooped down to wipe up some of the spilled coffee. It was then that she had first noticed his vibrant red hair.

"Why were you standing so close?" she asked as he stood back up.

"Well, I thought I would be debonair and strike up a conversation about the rain in Spain and hopefully lead into asking you out for dinner, but I think I just blew the opportunity."

He smiled one of those infectious smiles that immediately intrigued her. Before she had a chance to really respond, he bid his farewells and turned to leave.

"Wait," she called to him. "I think we could work out something for dinner. As long as you promise not to be so close to me during."

He turned back around and smiled again as he said, "Agreed, as long as you don't spill anything on me."

They both laughed, and that was how their relationship had started. By the time of the gala event for the debut of her new album, they had spent the past few months acting much like any normal couple would. They enjoyed their dates and late nights in front of the fire. Except for the cameras that would follow them once in a while, they enjoyed relative solitude.

The red carpet that led up to the banquet hall seemed to match his hair perfectly. As the invited turned to watch them arrive, it almost seemed like Kelly was the guest and he the star. Everyone stared as he waved and smiled, almost seeming to fit in like he had been there before.

Kelly welcomed the change in focus. Even though she had experienced a fair share of success, she still remained humble and didn't particularly enjoy all the glitz and glamour. She loved to sing. That was it. The fact that she was beautiful was just a bonus. She would give it all up for a quiet life where she could raise a family and focus on her singing.

The night of the event went as any other. A lot of mingling and a lot of drinking. Kelly never went overboard with her liquor. She was what you might call a social drinker. As they left the party, Kelly was glad that he was similar in his consumption of alcohol. They were both in good spirits and enjoying the evening.

The limo that had brought them drove peacefully through the downtown streets. Kelly looked out the window at the passing buildings and sighed deeply, content and happy.

Suddenly, the driver turned down an alley that Kelly wasn't familiar with.

"Where are we going?" she asked the driver with a hint of worry in her voice.

"Stay calm," her companion said.

Kelly turned her head toward him with a scared look. But then her look went from scared to frightened as she saw the gun in his hand.

"What ..." she started, but he cut her off.

"Please, don't talk," he said. "You'll ruin the moment." He put a handkerchief over her mouth as she started to inhale sharply to scream. The chemical soaked into the cloth quickly entered her lungs and knocked her out. As she slumped, he bound her hands and legs and gagged her mouth. A sleeping mask was next to cover her eyes, just in case she awoke during the ride.

Having finished, he looked up to the driver and said, "To the docks."

The driver nodded and turned back onto a main street.

As they pulled onto the wharf, the wooden dock creeked under the weight of the car. The driver stopped and got out of the car. Kelly's companion followed suit and said, "Bring her into the warehouse."

The driver lifted Kelly out of the car and carried her inside, placing her onto a small cot.

As he stood up, a shot echoed through the building and the driver fell to the floor, blood coming out of the wound in his head.

The man with the red hair dragged the body to the dock and tied several weights around his ankles before dropping it into the water. He gave a small salute as it quickly sank below the surface.

After driving the limo into the warehouse and closing the door behind him, he walked over to Kelly and took off the mask. Her eyes were wide with terror as she stared at him.

"Hello, my dear. I'm going to take this nasty thing out of your mouth, but you have to promise not to scream. Not that anyone would hear you if you did. I just really don't want to hear it, ok?"

He gently untied the gag and pulled it off her mouth.

After a few seconds of waiting to see if she would make a sound, he said, "There, that's better. I'd hate to have to keep you quiet. You have such a lovely voice."

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"I'm sorry. I thought it was obvious. I'm kidnapping you."

"Where's the driver?"

"His services were no longer required."

"Why are you doing this?"

"Ahh! There's the million dollar question. Why. I'd love to explain it to you, but I think it's much more dramatic to show you."

He reached up to his face and pulled off his hair, exposing a bald head underneath. This he dropped to the ground and then with both hands peeled off a rubber mask. Residue of the adhesive stuck to his face which he wiped off with a rag.

Kelly gasped as she recognized the man before her.

"Jerry?"

"You know," he said. "I debated whether or not you would remember me. I'm so glad you do."

"But, I still don't understand why you would do this?" she said, almost exasperated.

"Do I really have to spell it out for you? But, I guess I shouldn't have expected less from someone like you. You appear so nice to the public. You donate to charities, you help the poor, you never say a bad word about anyone. At least, that's what everyone is led to believe. What they don't realize is that deep down you're just like all the other stars that will stop at nothing to get ahead."

"I've never done anything like that!"

"Don't lie to me!" he screamed. "I'm done with your lies! Let me take you back 5 years to the beginning of your career. A small girl in the big city looking to make it. You didn't know anyone or anything, but you knew you wanted to be a star.

"You walked into my office, and I saw potential. Not the normal song and dance potential that everyone else has. No. I saw a simple, untainted girl that wanted to do what was right. That was such a refreshing find in a dirty business that I couldn't pass it up.

"I took you by the hand and helped you. I put you in touch with the right people. I made sure you were known. And what did you do to repay me? You anihilate my career as an agent."

"How? I don't remember."

"Of course you don't," he sneered. "You people never do. Let me refresh your memory." He stepped over to a nearby desk and grabbed a notebook. He opened it to a page with a newspaper article pasted onto it and set the book on her lap.

"Recognize this?" he asked.

The headline read, "New Star Rises - Look out Rita Hayworth, Kelly Magnolia's in town."

"Go ahead and skip down to paragraph seven."

Her eyes quickly darted down to the mentioned part. She began to read when he said, "Please. Aloud. I'd like to hear it from your own lips."

"When asked about her start into the music world Kelly said, 'I never thought I would make it like I did. I really owe it all to my agent, Jerry.'"

"What's so bad about what I said?" she asked.

"Nothing!" he said. "It's what you didn't say in the future." He turned page after page of newspaper clippings as he said, "Not one interview in the future mentioned my name. Not once did you give me any more credit. And then, July 21st." He turned to another clipping that had a paragraph highlighted in yellow. "Read!"

"After signing her largest contract to date, Ms. Magnolia commented, "This so amazing for me. The Lehman brothers really made this all possible."

"The Lehman brothers!" he spat. "I pushed through the mud for you and never got even a second glance. Then the Lehman brothers come in with their big pockets and fancy things and you jump ship. Not only that, you give them the credit for my success! No one would work with me after that. No one!" His faced was flushed and his eyes bulging. "They all wanted to know why the famous Kelly Magnolia wouldn't work with me. They all wondered if there was something wrong with the way I treated my clients. I couldn't even be the agent for a dog!"

"I'm so sorry," she said.

He regained his composure and said, "Yes. Now you're sorry. Now when it is too late."

"So what do I do? How can I fix this?"

"You can't," he said matter-of-factly. "But that doesn't mean I can't get my revenge."

"Are you going to kill me?"

"Kill you? Heavens no! What good would that do? I'd much rather make you suffer for a lot longer. I've fooled you once, and I can do it again. You'll never be able to trust anyone you don't know, and even the ones you think you do.

"If you tell anyone, I'll be there. If you don't give every person that has helped you credit, I'll be there. Every moment of your life from now on you'll be wondering if I'm around the corner, ready to take you on another ride. And, my dear, the next time won't be as nice."

He chuckled a little as he picked up his notebook. "I wish you the best of luck. And, so that you have something to remember this little experience ..." He pulled out a knife and slowly drew it across her arm. The blood flowed easily around her skin and started soaking into the cot. Her stiffled cry did little to affect his emotions.

"And now, my love, I leave you."

He started walking out when she cried, "What am I supposed to do?"

He turned back and smiled that infectious smile. "Survive," was all he said. The closing of the metal door sent a loud echo through the warehouse, giving a finality to his words.

As he walked down the dock and got into a boat, he pulled out his cell phone and placed a call.

"Hello, yes, I have an emergency. I heard a lady screaming from one of the warehouses down on Pier 29. Please send help."

The engine roared to life as he sped away over the water, leaving Kelly Magnolia to live forever with the fear of meeting again the man with the red hair.

My child is not a hermaphrodite

Just recently I was at my niece's school play with my 8-month old child. He was dressed in a button-up blue striped onesie with a collar and jean shorts. Green camouflage socks were on his feet and a fauxhawk hairstyle (courtesy of his mom) topped him off. He was as cute as a button, and many confirmed that fact with their oohs and ahhs.

As is usually customary when we go to large gatherings, parties, events, and such, I had Alexander in my arms. I love the reciprocal attention I get as I show him off. It's selfish, I know, but there's no other way to just walk into a room and have everyone falling all over you. The trick is to keep the kid in your arms. Otherwise, as soon as he is held by someone else, it's like being the small kid at school trying to get his lunchbox back from the bullies. He gets passed around so quickly that within a few seconds I go from the man with the cute baby to just another face in the crowd.

So, I had him in my arms during the intermission, and since he was a little tired his head was resting on my shoulder. With a child so active as he is, it's nice when he just winds down and snuggles. You feel like you could hold him forever. His eyes were still open and he was looking around the room at all the people milling about. Then, from behind me, I heard a comment that I get all too often.

"What a cute baby. How old is she?"

I politely corrected her and said, "He is 8 months old."

She immediately flushed a little and apologized and then continued to talk about how adorable he was before shifting her conversation to someone else nearby.

Since Alexander was born, I've had different people come up and confuse the gender of my baby. We've tried to assist them by dressing him in manly colors and clothes, but we still have the occasional sex-changing comment. Maybe I'm a little biased in my opinion, but I don't think my kid looks like a girl, and I'm hoping the comments stop so that he doesn't have a complex in the future.

Instead of assuming a child's gender, the easiest and safest way to approach a questionable situation is simply to use "baby" instead of "him" or "her." For instance, "What a cute baby." "How old is your baby?" "Look at how well your baby sits." "I love your baby's hair." By this point, the parent is usually tired of hearing "your baby" that they will respond with "He's a year old." "She's really a good baby." Or something similar. Of course, if they just aren't getting the hint that you don't know what sex their child is, then you can continue with the annoying "your baby" line, or just ask what the baby's name is. Hopefully, this will elicit a name that will lead you in the right direction as to what pronoun to use. Just watch out for those unisex names like Sam or Chris. If you get one of those, just start saying "it" instead of "him" or "her". If the parents are willing to use a non-gender specific name, then you're free to do the same.

We'll probably have to continue to clarify Alexander's sex to others, but I guess I should count myself lucky that he's as cute as everyone says he is. We'll work on his manly nature later.

Lost - part 4

"I tried going home after my conversation with the boy by the tree, but it wasn't the same. I talked with my daughter and her husband about what had happened to me and all that I learned, but they did not believe me. Who would? I wouldn't have believed it either if I had not sat outside in the free air and talked with one of them.

"They tried to get me back into the hospital, but I could not go back there again. So, I left. I went into hiding and lived off whoever would help me. And that's what I've been doing for the past few months now."

The man slumped slightly after finishing his story, visibly affected by the relating of the tale as well as what he had been through. I looked at him with a new understanding and compassion, almost wanting to reach over and lift him up and take him in my arms.

"So, where is your Antonio now?" I asked.

Suddenly, a fire seemed to come into his eyes as his gaze shot up at me. "He hasn't returned," he said distinctly. "They said they always bring them back, and my Antonio hasn't returned."

"He's still not home yet?"

"No. And I will find them and find out what happened to him. And if he is not okay, they will wish their species had never been created."

I could see in his heavy breathing and determined look that he was serious about his threat.

"I must go," he said. "I have many places to look and the more time I spend sitting the harder it will be to find them." He stood and started to walk away. I rose from my seat and almost called to him to wait so that I could offer my services to help him, but something made me stop. From what seemed like thin air appeared a host of children that walked behind him, as if they were an entourage following their king.

The dark night had fallen and within a few moments they were out of my view. I began to wonder if what I had just witnessed was real, but I knew myself too well to think this a hallucination. I grabbed my bag and slung it over my shoulder as I started walking away.

"Crazy man," came a voice at my side. I looked down to see a small boy who was walking beside me. I stopped and he looked up into my eyes. I almost gasped as I seemed to be looking into that same void that the old man had described in the boy by the tree.

"What?" I asked.

"He's a crazy man, no?"

"Sure," I said.

"Good," he said, and then walked away.

I watched him leave until he was no longer in sight. Then I turned and ran after the old man.

The end

Lost - part 3

"I think he came in with one of the attendants. I don't remember seeing him ever before, and since this wasn't a place where they put insane kids, I figured he must be somebody's child. I couldn't imagine what type of parent would bring their boy into an environment like this, but I also didn't care. I was on the verge of giving up on life. I would sit in a chair in the corner and watch as men and women walked around aimlessly. I began to wonder how many of them were truly insane and how many were driven there simply from living in this place.

"My attention went back to the young boy who walked straight up to me. He stood there and held out his hand. Before being admitted into the ward, I would have asked him what he wanted. I would have tried to communicate with him. Instead, I stared at his hand, trying to decide if I really wanted to make the effort to move.

"'Do you want to know?' the boy asked.

"I looked up at him with a curious look on my face. Somehow I saw a glimmer of hope for understanding in him. Plus, what did I have to lose? I finally decided to take his hand and follow him.

"We walked towards the exit as I wondered what this boy had in mind. It wasn't until we started walking past the guard that I became nervous. However, the guard paid no attention to us, and before I knew it, we were outside in the free air. I took a deep breath and a slight shiver ran through my body as it tingled from the rush of oxygen. I could already feel my mind start to clear.

"I turned my head down to where the boy should have been to thank him, but he wasn't there. I quickly scanned around me and saw him walking away.

"'Wait!' I called. He didn't stop, but kept on walking. I ran and caught up to him and stood in his way. He waited in front of me motionless, as if I were a door that wouldn't open. I stooped down and looked into his face and was almost taken back by the emptiness in his eyes. It was almost like a void where the only visible part was the deep black of the pupil.

"'What's going on?" I asked.

"'Your time is done,' was his reply.

"'My time?" I asked. 'What do you mean?'

"'Anathoth wasn't supposed to tell you about us. We had to make it so no one would believe you if you were to talk, which you did. Now, everyone will take you for a crazy man.'

"'Who is Anathoth? I don't remember talking to him. What is it I wasn't supposed to know?'

"'Come,' he said. 'I will explain everything.' I followed him into a nearby park, and we sat under the cool shade of a tree. The grass was so soft underneath. I could barely remember ever feeling grass that soft. The years I had spent in the hard, white prison had dulled my senses. Now, everything felt more alive and vibrant than ever before.

"'We exist through you,' he started. I started to open my mouth to ask a question, but he held up his hand. 'Please do not interrupt. When I am done, you may ask.

"'We need you to live. As one of us is born, the new life is placed into one of your newborns. The two co-exist peacefully for the first several years of life. But we grow much quicker than you do. By the time your child has reached the age of 8, we have reached our maturity. Until then, the human child has complete control over his mind and body. However, once we reach our stage of adulthood, we must release ourselves from what has sustained us. It is almost like your incubators that you use for chickens. We would not survive outside a human body until we have fully developed.

"'Once we are there, we must find a way to leave. So, we take control of the child's body and go away from everyone. The process of freeing ourselves is not one to be witnessed by human eyes.

"'After the transformation is complete, the child is free to go, and we go on living our lives invisible to the rest of you around us.'

"I sat with a stunned look on my face. I couldn't tell if I was still crazy or if what I was hearing was real. I had so many questions that I didn't know where to start.

"'So, you're like parasites,' I said.

"'A harmless parasite, but yes.'

"'Harmless? Hardly. You take over a child's body, somebody's son or daughter that they love, and leave them alone somewhere in the world after you're done using their body. How is that harmless?'

"'We do not leave them there. After exiting their body, we lead them back home. That is how that girl that you ran into was able to find her parents again. She had been led back.'

"'I did not see anyone lead her to me. She seemed to come out of nowhere.'

"'We are invisible to those who do not believe. The human child's imagination is so immense that they can see us. Most adults refer to them as the child's imaginary friend, but we are as real as the kid says we are. And, when we so desire, we can make those we touch invisible as well. How else do you think we could have walked right out of that hospital?'

"'But you still look like a child.'

"'Yes, because I have not yet freed myself from him. I was instructed to come release you from your sentence beforehand. You had spent enough time in there for no one to believe what I am telling you now. I am sorry we had to do this to you, but we could not jeopardize our existence. Anathoth felt compassion for you and told you a riddle that would explain who we were. Though most adults would not have thought twice about such a thing, you did. And we could not take the chance that someone else would think the same way.'

"'You mean, Anathoth was the being that was inside my Antonio?'

"'That is correct. And it was his time to be freed. And now, it is time for me to go as well. I cannot keep this body any longer or we will both die.' He stood up and started to walk away again.

"'Wait!' I called once more. 'What do I do? Where's my Antonio?' But there was no response. He walked around a bend and was gone.

To be continued ...

Lost - part 2

I missed last week because of Halloween. Had too much fun. :-) Here is the continuation of my previous post.

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"I sat in the damp jail conference room. My lawyer sat opposite me, trying to make sense of what I was telling him.

"'So, you're saying that you have no idea where this girl came from, correct? That she just walked up out of nowhere and took your hand.'

"'That's right.

"'Ok. That part I can handle and probably convince the jury on because we can prove your whereabouts during the time in question. However, the next part where you say that you were on your way to the police station to give them information on your own grandson's disappearance is what I can't seem to grasp. You're claiming that children aren't being abducted, but are rather leaving on their own?'

"'I don't know if they're leaving on their own or not. I just have this feeling that something else is happening to them.'

"'And this because of what your grandson said to you before he vanished, right?'

"'Right.'

"'So, all the kids that have been found dead or mutilated or abused or whatever else really weren't abducted but just ran away?'

"'That's not what I'm saying. I'm saying that maybe not all of them are abducted.'

"'You see? That's where you lose me. I could understand if you were saying that some run away instead of being abducted, because that is possible. But, when kids run away, they usually run to somewhere. They don't just disappear.'

"'I know, I know. My head tells me the same thing you're saying. But, I can't deny what my Anthony said to me. When he said it, it wasn't him. I mean, it wasn't like him. I just feel that there is something else going on here.'

"'I don't know if I can convince the jury of that.'

"He didn't. We went to trial and I sat there and watched as they found me innocent of the abduction of the little girl, but guilty of insanity as I tried to explain my theory. They lead me away to an asylum where I spent day after day explaining the same thing over and over again to different doctors and psychologists. The more they talked to me, the more I began to believe that I truly was insane.

"What a curiosity, no? I was a normal, healthy individual before I entered the psychiatric ward. And it was in a place that was supposed to help heal people from this type of condition that caused me to become crazy. I think they needed me to be crazy.

"Days turned into weeks and weeks into months. Soon, a full two years passed without any hope of leaving. I tried to retract my story, saying that I made it up, but they wouldn't believe me. They said I was just saying that to try to get out. Well, I was! I couldn't be in there anymore. I was suffocating from a lack of intelligent conversation. I felt each day that the walls were closing in more and more. The sterilized white everywhere seemed to mock me as I tried to remember what the outside world looked like.

"I finally resolved that I either needed to find a way out or I was to die in there. But, I did not know how. I was no escape artist. I had no idea where to even start when it came to finding a way to leave.

"Then help came. And in a way I never would have expected."

To be continued ...