Death’s Tales: Chapter 17

Mrs. Willow was more than willing to let Micheal spend the night. All he had to do was smile at her, and she handed him the phone. It was covered in rainbows, of course. Micheal dialed his mom’s phone number while I sat down at the table, tracing the dents.

“Hey, Mom.”

I couldn’t hear anything his mom said, but I could hear Micheal’s reply.

“Can I stay over at the orphanage with Hades. The storm’s pretty bad.”

He didn’t say anything for a minute. Then: “Yeah. I’ll head straight over tomorrow if we can. Don’t worry.”

He nodded. “Yes, Mom. I know. I’ll be fine for tonight.”

They talked for a few more minutes and I zoned out, staring at the table.

Finally, he hung up the phone and handed it back to Mrs. Willow.

“I can stay,” he said and Mrs. Willow smiled widely.

“You can stay in the room across from Tessa.” She turned her annoying, bright smile on me. “That okay with you sweetie?”

I shrugged and Micheal smiled politely. He could do anything politely. It could get annoying occasionally. Like now. Mrs. Willow likes everyone but she treated Micheal so nicely.

Mrs. Willow walked out of the kitchen to go tuck in the other children, her smile still on her face. I got up and led Micheal to the rooms without a word. But he was smiling and I felt pretty okay, too.

I automatically entered my room and Micheal followed after me. I plopped down on my bed while Micheal sat down beside me. He looked at the floor with a slight smile on his face and he shoved me lightly. I used my shoulder to shove him back. Then I fell back into my bed while Micheal looked around.

The bare walls and the half-full closet. The hardwood floor. Looking at it from his perspective, it looked terrible. Empty. Almost like no one lived there. Only the clothes and the messed up bed showed anything.

I stared up at the ceiling, white and plain like everything else. Micheal laid down next to me, our feet dangling over the side.

“Truth or dare?” he asked.

“Dare.”

“I dare you to dance in a circle.”

“Um.. okay,” I said, sitting up. I got up, spun in a circle with my arms out, and fell back onto the bed.

Micheal looked over at me, smiling like he was holding back laughter. “That’s how you dance?”

“Yeah,” I said looking at him. “And I do it well.”

“Totally,” he agreed sarcastically.

I rolled my eyes and asked, “Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Do you have a crush?” I asked, remembering his question those few months ago.

Micheal nodded. “Yes, I do.”

“Who?”

He shook his head. “You already asked your question.”

I turned and looked at him. “It’s not Lillian, is it?”

“Lydia,” Micheal corrected.

“Lydia,” I repeated.

Micheal shook his head. “No, not her.”

“Then who?” I asked again.

Micheal shook his head. “I’m not telling. You’d never let me live it down.”

I rolled my eyes. “Fine. Don’t tell me, Miracle Boy.”

He looked over at me. “Are you trying to bait me into telling you.”

I smirked over at him. That had been exactly what I was trying to do.

He sat up with a slight groan. “I’m going to bed,” he told me.

I nodded but didn’t bother to get up or move at all. Micheal just rolled his eyes, smiling, and walked over to the other room.

When he was gone, I turned until my head was on my pillow and pulled the covers over me. I closed my eyes and fell asleep almost immediately.

I woke up in a cold sweat. It took me a minute to remember what I had been dreaming about. There had been a little boy, walking down the street. I was mad at someone and then a car came out of nowhere. It hit the boy… And then I woke up.

I took a deep breath. Then another. I pulled the blankets tightly around me and started digging my imaginary hole. I put the anger, the fear, anything I had felt in the dream, and I buried it as deep as I could. I dug until morning when someone knocked on my door.

I couldn’t answer them. I was almost done digging. Just a little more.

“Hades?” It was Micheal’s voice on the other side of that door. “Hades?“ he called again.

Fill the hole. Don’t let anything out. Fill the hole. Now pat it down, nice and tight.

Micheal opened the door and then shoved it open and tried to put his arms around me when he saw my face. I shoved him away. “Go away!” I tried to yell, but nothing came out.

Micheal stepped back and watched me worriedly. I tried taking a deep breath but I couldn’t do it. The fear was starting to dig back out. 

“Hades,” Micheal said. “Deep breath.”

I shook my head. I couldn’t do it.

Micheal nodded at me. He was trying to tell me that I could do it. But I couldn’t. I tried to take another deep breath. It still didn’t work. Micheal sat down on the bed.

“What’s wrong?” he asked softly. I could barely hear him.

I shook my head. My vision was going dark around the edges. Like a fuzzy picture. I felt Micheal get up and leave. I tried to take another deep breath. Then Micheal rushed back in and I could see his slightly blurry form holding something.

I gasped in shock as something wet and cold ran down my face, and my shirt. Air rushed back into my lungs and everything suddenly cleared up. Like a picture that had been fixed and was clear. It was like looking through a perfect window.

Micheal sat back, relief evident on his face. I stared at him, my heart still pounding a funeral dirge

in my chest.

“I’m scared,” I admitted. “I’m scared.”