Deamons

Chapter 19 Make me Laugh! part 3

     Death looking a manta ray off evil sucking in the life force is oblivious to his surroundings. Anger grabs him by the tail and sends him sailing. Anger jumps on Death like a cat on a mouse, lashing into him with extreme prejudice.

The gifts pulled together all weakened from the goings on. "What happened?" Imagination asks. "Exactly," Diligence says looking at the other with disgust. "Some plan this was, I can barely move myself let alone our being now," Strength says. "We need our being to forget himself and look to others he may help," Empathy whispers.

Hope stands at a high perch, "We need Intuition to guide us now, and I say Intuition needs to look to the future!" That is it. The last word. The gifts disperse except Empathy who stands alone. She knows she is right but lacks the energy to push forward. Other gifts have greater say in this being.

Starke opens one eye the other is swollen shut. He does not know how long it has been but he can feel the water still in the tub behind him, and it is cold. He pulls himself up. Looks in the mirror. His left eyelid is bulged out. He pulls it open curious as to the damage underneath. The white part of the eye is all read. The iris looks to pop out of the red. He drops the lid like he is jumping startled from seeing a mouse or roach. He is still tired. He goes into his room hearing the screaming and loud television upstairs. The noise comforts him. It means she is busy and he figures she will not be storming back down soon. The clock says he laid there two hours. Tears long held back finally come. He pours them into his pillow and bites on his hand.

Hope drags Imagination over to Intuition. Take him up with you to the big screen in the mind. There Intuition makes contact with the Starke many years down the road. That Starke speaks to this one now. Encouraging him toward survival. It's a counter to the death he wishes for now. Death the sweet wine for the infirmed by pain.

The next week is a blur. Starke sticks to himself. Wears sunglasses and makes up stories when people ask questions. He lets them laugh at him it is easier. He does his best to ignore people who look at him with sorrow. He needs to let his skin grow thicker, people just do not understand. Some horrors need to be lived to know what it is like. It hurts but that is what life is he reasons, learning to deal with misery trudging the long winter of pain.

It is Peacock time. Starke is left in the car again. He does not care. The deamons lick their lips. They come to be endeared with this man. It does not seem as long this week before Allan comes out fetch Starke. He is awake this time. He follows his father in staring at the ground as he does.

He passes the receptionist he thinks hears hissing. Head still down he enters Peacocks office. His parents stay in this time. His left eye is open now. The purple and black have receded from the skin there, it is just light shades of yellow and brown left. The white is back as well except for on dot of red.

He glares at Peacock as Anger struggles to break free from Oppression below. Peacock looks at him with disgust. That enflames Starke all the more. His face is pink like baby piglet and the shade is intensifying with each passing moment. "How did your assignment go?" Peacock asks. Starke just stares. He cannot hear. The battle goes on inside world out as Anger furiously battles to free himself. Starke's every nerve communicating to deep down within him that he is being threatened. Peacock might as well be a threatening rattlesnake.

Peacock's brow furrows. He leans into Starke. "Do you do anything you are told?" Starke still silent, still unable to hear him, his vision even fuzzy. Peacock leans his elbows on his knees. He looks like a cat ready pounce. Slowly and deliberately he mouths his next words exaggerating even the movements of his lips as though he is talking to a total idiot. "Did....you....make....your....mommy....and....daddy....laugh...." Starke springs up not even realizing he still holds the chair he sat in still in his hands. "NO!" he screams. Then recognizing he is holding the chair still he tosses it to the side.

Peacock is cowering. He has his leg up and hands over his face. The famous chicken defense. Starke storms out slamming the door so hard it bounces back open. The receptionist is at the far corner of her office. She would go further if it were not for that damn wall in her way. She screeching at the top of her lungs. Peacock is yelling in the background, "CALL NINE ONE ONE! CALL NINE ONE ONE!" Starke keeps trucking until he gets to the car where he leans on the door waiting.

A few minutes go by and he is surprised there are no sirens to be heard. His parents emerge from the office building and to his surprise they are smiling. Starke is shocked then thinks they must be excited in anticipation of the police coming to get him. HE looks behind to see if anyone is sneaking up on him. There is no one there. His father unlocks the door for him. Then he and his mother get in. Confused Starke does too. They seem proud. His mother tells him he does not have to go back to Dr. Peacock.

That is it. No yelling. No punishment, not even a word of criticism. Then Starke sees in his mind the receptionist hoarse the next day and he laughs to himself. Now that is funny Dr. Peacock. he thinks.

He lays in bed tired but unable to sleep. Dr. Peacock was supposed to be his savior, now what. Nothing, he reasons. He is doomed. Just make it through the next few years and he will be on his own. That is all he can come up with. He lays there for the next several hours, miserable.