Across Acheron

Session 25

Ten days later, a funeral happened.

Ten days later, a mother had to bury her own son. Friends and acquaintances had to watch as a coffin lowered into the ground, shedding tears for him to come back although he never will. A school had to hire councillors and therapists to help the students cope. And somewhere just a few miles away, the killer sat down in a room that wasn’t meant for him, convincing himself that his actions were necessary.

I always try not to think about it, but those times come back to me now and then. Sometimes I imagine the way he probably would’ve looked in that coffin, wearing a snappy suit as if he was going to prom or something. Did he even get to go to prom? When was the last time he told his mother that he loved her? Did he ever have dreams about a family? Kids? Did he have a girl he thought he could marry?

There were always so many questions I could never find an answer to. Even now, I’m still searching. Do you think that there’s a slim chance that Aaron stopped being angry? Do you think that his soul’s at peace? I’d like to think so but at times, reality gets the best of me.

It was ten days after the murder that Keenan and I sat in his room in complete silence. I remember watching the way his body seemed longer as he sprawled himself across his bed, eyes trapped on the ceiling. It made him seem almost human in a way, as if he was just a guy thinking about normal problems that normal people had to face.

But then he spoke.

“I didn’t even feel his life slipping away. I thought he was just faking death so that I would let go of him.”

“He was gasping for air, Keenan.”

He rolled over on his stomach, an annoyed look settling on his face. “Alright, I’m sorry. Is that what you wanted to hear? I don’t even know why you’re crapping your pants about this. He would’ve died anyway.”

“He was our only way to find out what the hell happened to Skye, and you just got up and offed him.” I sighed heavily, rubbing my eyes. “We’ve been sitting here doing nothing for ten days straight because of you.”

“He wasn’t giving us answers quick enough. You can’t possibly blame me for that.”

“Why didn’t you just wait, for Christ’s sake?”

Keenan jumped off of the bed at that moment, shedding his glamour as he did. I would be lying if I said it didn’t scare me half to death. I had known him for a few months by that point and I still couldn’t get used to his natural skin.

He removed his shirt, throwing it on the ground. “I don’t have much time,” he snarled, gesturing towards his chest.

Jesus, it was ugly. I stood up from my spot at the desk and walked over to him, my eyes trapped on the red blotches that marked his pale skin. They looked like serious burns, as if he had been exposed to a raging fire.

“What happened to you?” I asked frantically. “I asked if you alright and you said yes. Why didn’t you tell me about this?”

Keenan moved away before I could even touch him, grabbing for his shirt. “I never said I was okay, remember? I didn’t say anything at all.” He sighed and sat back down on the bed. “It’s the iron from outside. It’s starting to affect me.”

“But you said that—”

“I know what I said, Jack. I never told you that I was one of the fae that are able to stay around it for long periods of time. I can’t...I’m not like Lorna. I’m only part of what she is—the rest is just impure blood.” He touched his pointed ears in a sickened manner, shaking his head as he said, “It’s the reason she hates me so much. Hell, it’s the reason everyone hates me.”