Thursday, March 19, 2015

Week 6 Short Story: Polluted

The light polluted the air.  The light polluted the night air that was.  And not many cared about the night since we were all in darkness, polluted, clouded by other plagues that prevented us from caring for the human life lost in the night, let alone the light that worked it’s magical lore like a titillating stronghold on the quickly fading night.  Soon we wouldn’t have one at all.  
In the distant another bright light shone just as complete darkness fell onto a bank of streets.  A transformer exploded and that could only mean one thing-
Chaos.  
I was on my way to Hannah.  Tonight was the night we would call upon the creature.  Legend had it that the creature, an alien that awaited the calling of its descendant, would be the savior of our world.  In other versions, vicious rumors if you asked me, it brought upon the total destruction of the planet.
Hannah was the only one though.  She saw past it.  It was the reason I chose her.  We were both transfers that year but Hannah had transferred in before me.  She kept to herself mostly and was a loner by her own choosing according to most people.  I can see that.  I could also understand why.  
So it came to no one’s surprise when I suddenly gravitated toward her.  I came in, new and shiny, immediately taken into the ‘in’ crowd which was an eclectic mix of jocks who doubled as nerds and ‘ladies that really like to let their hair down’.  My mother’s choice of words, not mine, but that’s another story.  
I’d love to say Hannah was so different but really she wasn’t.  I just felt, with her, it might be easier to explore than with the others.  
The night air was okay but the wind was stealing away what little warmth I could muster with my leather jacket.  Didn’t feel so cool to trying to rock a leather jacket in below temperatures, it was days like this that I wasn’t sure if I’d ever grow used to the cold but my parents chose to move here, not even for a job, they just up and decided let’s move to Colorado.  I thought it might have something to do with my sister’s medical condition but they never really allowed me into that world.
But it was okay because today Hannah and I would gain all our wishes.  I’d save my sister, maybe even earn some respect from Hannah and Hannah would get what she wanted.  Whatever that was, she had yet to share that.  
I raced up her porch steps two at the time thankful that the light was on.  I’d just begun to the knock when the porch swing squeaked into motion and the two stuffed animals cradled on it watched me from their spot.  
I was really thankful for the light.  Hannah wasn’t long before she opened the door and I was ushered in with a quick pull and a finger to the lips.  I looked down at her finger, then to her, and for a moment things stopped.  Hannah was dressed in her usual earthy attire.  


 Purple and black striped leggings with a large pale blue sweater that wished to devour her at every chance it got.  When she sat down, her legs close to her chest, it always exceeded at swallowing her lower half but Hannah’s head and her owl ears headband, at least she said it was an owl ear headband, and the acute mole near her left nostril.  She played with it often, sometimes it bled, and then she’d look in the mirror or catch a reflection.  Her reaction was always peculiar to me; it was though she expected it to be gone each time and only became disappointed when she realized it was still there.
 “Did you bring it?” she asked as she hurried me in and left me briefly, not waiting for an answer.  She peaked around the corner.  In the background there was a tv going very loud.  I heard Pat Sajack say “There are 3 E’s” and a bell sounds to signal each.  
I don’t know what I was supposed to bring.  I watched her, partly hoping that by the time she came back she would have forgotten she’d asked.
Her hand pats down the air, as if counting, and then the wheel spin’s on the tv and Hannah has rushed to me, grabbed my hand and we stampede against the rickety steps.  
“Han, child, why so much noise?  What you up to?” A tiny voice that aches with age dare manage against the loud television.  “Han, child?  You there?  Han?”
When we arrive upstairs Hannah, curve around the banister into the room to the end of the hall and to the right.  We’ve arrived to total darkness.  I still hear the woman Han… child… Han… Han… Oh.
Hannah breathes loud but she never tries to ease the worry.  She never addresses the woman and for a moment that abandon bothers me.  Have I been misguided in her character?  
“Your grandmother,” I’ve started, it’s an assumption but I can’t let it, I can’t just let oh be where it ends.  
“My mother.”  Hannah left my side then and I hear her mumbles as she fiddles about the darkened room.  “Don’t worry.  She’ll be okay.  So did you bring it?”
“Bring what?”
The room stopped.  My eyes narrow trying to make light out of the dark but I can’t tell where Hannah is, only that her breath has finally been caught and she could be anywhere in the room.  
“What was I supposed to bring?”
“It doesn’t matter… I already summoned it.”
My mouth opens a notch but no words escape.  “What do you mean? “
“It’s here.”
I’m  aware of my heart then.  The loudness of it, it’s rapid beating, why is it so loud?  Why does it beat so hard against my chest?  Why isn’t there enough air the room?  My hands fumble for the door but I’ve lost my sense of place.
“It’s okay,” Hannah said as if she’s aware of my state but she can’t know because it’s so dark in the room.  There is no light to pollute its darkness.  The only pollution that exist is what we’ve brought.  
What Hannah has brought.  
“But this is what you wanted,” Hannah said.  Her voice is further now.  “You said you were curious.  You led me believe you could handle it.”
Crghhhhhhhhhhhh
“Hannah, not funny.”
“You weren’t really ever serious, were you?   You didn’t really want to save your sister.  You just wanted to be the hero,” Hannah’s voice, a deathly whispers oozing with venom, “the truth is...”
“That I’m jealous…”
“You want to be the one dying…”
“I want the disease…”
“You want to be the focus of all.”
“I just want it all to stop.”
“Because you’re tired of her.”
“I’m tired of being here.”
“I am.”
“So go home,” Hannah has whispered in my ear and a finger gently touches my lips.  A pressure comes from my chest and the night air suddenly doesn’t seem so polluted.  A light fills the room and the creature is there, tucked away in the corner, staring back at me.  We look at one another and the mirror shatters.  
When I wake the next morning, in my own bed, I’m sure it was all a dream but crumpled in my hand is a note that read, “Thank you for bringing it.”
It’s Hannah’s handwriting I know.  
I never saw Hannah again.  In fact no one knew whom I was talking about when days passed and she never showed in school again.  
I’d love to say Hannah was the creature.   That she had somehow rid my sister of her terminal illness with whatever she did.  But I can’t.  
However Hannah did do one thing.  She freed me that night.  



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