Thou Shall Not Fear - Lost Boys

Chapter 7: The Last Night of My Life

All things considered, it wasn't a bad day for me. 

I quit work at the station, tired of being greeted by the same inaction and injustice every morning, and tired even more of the feeling that, if I were to be seen with the boys, I would face some pretty serious ridicule from my employers.

So, I marched over to the dinky craft store sandwiched between bigger, more important establishments, and answered their request for workers.

Ginger and I were supposed to hang out with Nikolai this afternoon, but he had to cancel, last minute. Ginger said that when she walked past the ice-creamery at sunrise, he was already there, eyes bloodshot and seeming to hold more baggage than would be allowed on an international flight.

Our conversations drifted as we wandered the streets by the golden light of late afternoon, but we always seemed to return to the subject of Nikolai and his ever-failing health. The only reason he left his bed was to avoid getting beaten by his uncle for being chronically ill.

We came up with our usual schemes and plans of action should we ever believe that Nikolai needed help.

We know where his house is, even though we've never been allowed to visit.

But there were still lighter conversations to be had. About helping Nikolai and Petre move out of their uncle's place in a couple of years' time. About my new work. About Ginger applying to study nursing in the next town and still being able to live in Santa Carla with her friends.

I had a good day.

I'm preparing for bed at around 10 when the phone rings, its shrill tone hurtling through my house as I approach the device.

I answer.

Dread fills my lungs as I hear Ginger inhale deeply.

"It's Nikolai. Something's happened at his house."

I'm out the door and down the streets that lead to Nikolai. 

I want to run but I limit myself to an erratic jog. My joggers punch the concrete paths, snapping twigs and crunching leaves with each stride.

Autumn is approaching, and the air is cool and thin.

My large duster jacket flails behind me as leaves scuttle down the path with quiet urgency. My glasses fog slightly, the world taking on an ominous late-night haze. The town feels so much bigger than it used to; the streets so much longer, forming a labyrinthine grid.

I round the corner, speeding up on my way to my friend, wishing that Ginger were with me. Wishing that I had pooled my resources and given Nikolai and Petre a place in my house. Wishing that I had gone and checked on Nikolai instead of letting him hide from the only people willing to help him.

Don't assume the worst.

Don't blame yourself.

Don't stop moving.

I'm almost there!

And someone grabs my arm.

---

Time grinds to a halt as the wind blows thick globs of blood down my arms. My wrists are gnarled; ravaged by a tall, amber-eyed monster.

I can't feel anything. My head is empty. My hair is wrapped around my face.

Finally, my knees buckle, my legs crumple, and I fall to the ground. Something cold slithers up my throat, burning my oesophagus and creeping into my mouth, only to spill over my bottom lip and into my lap.