Heather followed through with her threat, forcing Lunan to spend the remainder of spring and summer in solitude. She operated in plain sight, but was subtle enough to avoid Mary's attention. During meal times, for example, it was impossible to make Lunan sit by himself, so she worked around that. Although other children sat with Lunan, Heather warned them against talking to him. If Lunan asked someone to pass him a napkin or condiment, his requests went unanswered. He was either met with a stony stare or ignored entirely. It was during this time that he understood one could be lonely even when surrounded by others.
At first, the loneliness and anxiety crushed Lunan. He persisted with trying to form friendships to no avail. He quickly learned that everyone operated under Heather's influence to avoid being bullied themselves. On many mornings, Lunan awoke to a tear-stained pillow. As spring gave way to summer and it became clear that the others wouldn't cease ostracizing him, he accepted it.
What other choice did he have? He tried to tell himself that he was fine alone, that forcing unwanted interactions was futile, and that people who judged him for who his parents were wouldn't make good friends, anyway. But Lunan knew how he truly felt, especially when he saw groups of his fellow orphans playing together.
Despite the isolation his parents' religion induced, Lunan never once resented them. His mother had the kindness of a saint, and his father never spoke ill without provocation. Lunan knew only love from them, and he clung to that ember to weather the bitter loneliness.
The summer days passed in a blur, and as the weather grew colder, so too did Lunan's excitement. With school on the horizon, he could at least be in a place where he wasn't surrounded by children that hated him irrationally.
"We're all homeschooled?" Lunan asked, barely withholding his despair.
He was in Mary's office. They held meetings once a month where she checked on Lunan to help him acclimate to life at the orphanage.
She frowned at him, forehead wrinkling in bemusement. "Yes, Lunan. There's nothing wrong with homeschooling, so long as you have proper instructors. I take every child's education here seriously. You'll only receive the best," she assured him.
Lunan felt no relief. So far, he had refrained from telling Mary about Heather tormenting him. But if keeping quiet meant that he had to spend every hour of his day in this hellhole, he knew it was time to speak up.
"Could you make an exception? I like public school. I've had a hard time making friends here, and I think I could use a change of scenery," he said.
Mary smiled knowingly. "You've never tried homeschooling, Lunan. It's not the way it looks on TV."
"But—"
"No exceptions. Unless a child's records indicate negative experiences with homeschooling, attendance is mandatory. Since my great grandfather established this orphanage, most of its children were home-schooled. It's just how we do things," she said sternly.
"I understand." Lunan sighed, not bothering to hide his disappointment this time.
Heather approached Lunan later that day after dinner. By the time he noticed her, it was too late to retreat to his dorm. He forced down a sigh and silently looked up at her from his book.
"Mrs. Higgins talked to me earlier. She said something about you being nervous about the school year and not feeling comfortable around everyone."
Because of you, he wanted to say, but held his tongue.
Lunan put his book down and studied Heather closely. Her words lacked their usual snark.
She continued with a sheepish smile, "I wanted to apologize for that."
He nodded, still dumbfounded. He had no idea how Mary managed to break through her crusade against him, but that didn't matter. He wanted to cry in relief, but a small smile graced his face instead.
"Thank you. I forgive you," he said sincerely. "Are you good now?" He held out his hand to her.
He watched as Heather's smile split into a grin, his face falling as she doubled over in laughter.
"You really thought—" she said between gasps, "That I would ever want to be friends with you!"
A fresh wave of pain lit Lunan's eyes. Heather stopped laughing long enough to lavish in his anguish. She stood to her full height and schooled herself to sobriety.
"I promise you won't feel ignored anymore, Lunan. My friends and I are going to give you a lot more attention from now on."
Whether or not Mary realized it, she ensured that Lunan would receive a world of pain. Ever since then, Lunan avoided discussing anything remotely personal with her. He bitterly reminisced on his lonely, but undisturbed summer. How foolish he was to miss the secret blessing of everyone's silence. His current situation was a blend of pariah and human punching bag.
As a result of Heather's fear mongering, nearly every child continued ignoring Lunan. However, she and her friends committed to tormenting the boy. They did things like knocking books from his hands and pulling his chair from under him. Sometimes, some of the boys would follow him to the restroom and roughed him up. At first, he struggled to come up with excuses for his constant "clumsiness" to his teachers. They were exasperated at first, but eventually chose to turn a blind eye instead of speaking to him privately. Even when Lunan returned to the classroom with dampened hair or a fresh bruise, the teachers opted to hurry the boy into the classroom instead of addressing his disheveled state. Lunan resented their willful ignorance; yet more authority figures who preferred to ignore his plight instead of helping him. His own refusal to retaliate led to his anger festering.
One thing that annoyed Lunan's bullies was that the injuries they inflicted on him never lasted long. Prior to his parents' deaths, he often played rough like any other child, and with that came bruising. He would take fascination in how their colors shifted as they healed. However, like everything else in his life, that changed after his tenth birthday. Bruises that would take a week to heal cleared up in a few days instead. Heather blamed it on his satanic parents, and she may have been correct in her assumption, but that didn't make receiving the injuries any less painful.
For better or worse, Lunan adjusted to life at the orphanage. He often thought that were it not for the incessant bullying, that he could have made the best of his situation. Instead, he was haunted with nightmares about the day his life changed and often woke up in cold sweats while calling out for his parents. There wasn't a day that he didn't think of them, but he avoided reflecting on their deaths when doing so, preferring to think of happier times.
As autumn rolled in and Halloween decorations lined the orphanage's walls, Lunan was reminded of how his family used to celebrate. He recalled that they celebrated both Samhain and Halloween, vaguely remembering leaving food at an altar for his great grandparents. His parents told him that the veil between the natural and supernatural was thinnest during this time. Lunan wanted nothing more than to see them again.
Unfortunately, he lacked the knowledge on how to do so. Lunan never minded his parents' refusal to teach him magic, but now he sorely regretted it. Despite his interest in their practices, they insisted on keeping him from their activities. Given all that happened, he wondered if it had anything to do with his supposed "innocence," but it was too late to tell.
He turned to the Internet for guidance. Although skeptical of their authority, Lunan poured over sites and forums dedicated to learning magic. Initially, the wealth of information overwhelmed him, and his hope deflated upon realizing that summoning the dead was not an easily mastered skill. Still, he didn't let the news deter him, and was nothing if not determined.
By Halloween night, Lunan had studied the fundamentals of magic. It was the perfect time to test his skills, as he had the orphanage to himself because the majority of its residents were trick-or-treating in the surrounding suburbs. His steps felt lighter as he returned to his dormitory following dinner. After ensuring that the room was empty, Lunan set to work, putting a pillow on the ground and placing a lit candle before himself before assuming a cross-legged position.
"Here goes nothing, I guess," he muttered, then rested his hands on his lap.
He stared intensely at the flame, but soon found that uncomfortable. Meditation was supposed to be a relaxing practice, he reminded himself as he softened his gaze. Gradually, his vision reached a comfortable blur, and he breathed easily. A small smile quirked on his lips. Even if nothing came of that night, he could get used to this calming effect. He retrained his focus on his breath and steadily observed the candle's orange flame.
He blinked slowly and his brow wrinkled in confusion. Lunan could have sworn he saw a blue flicker in the flame. He blinked quickly, and the fire returned to normal. He frowned. Lunan tried to return to his relaxed state, but the disturbing flicker held too much of his focus.
"Guess this is it for today," he said. Although disappointed at having broken his concentration, he appreciated how the practice calmed him. He glanced about the room blankly, blue and amber eyes dimmed in relaxation. After collecting himself, he turned to blow out the flame, but its bright blue fire froze him in place.
"I don't understand." Lunan's voice shook, noting that the fire was a similar hue to his mother's. "Mom? Dad? It's me. Are you there?"
He backed away from the candle as the fire grew and nearly engulfed the wax mold. Before Lunan could reach for a glass of water, the flame extinguished itself.
"I don't understand," he repeated. He shook his head in an attempt to clear the unease, then got up and hurriedly gathered his things.
Lunan stood at the door. He tried to turn the handle, but it wouldn't budge. He looked down and his blood ran cold. A thick, white mist was curled around Lunan's hand. His gaze followed the misty trail as it spread around the room. The temperature suddenly dropped, and he shivered from more than the cold. The mist solidified, and in doing so revealed a myriad of spirits surrounding Lunan.
They were young and old, male and female, and all dressed in plain cloaks. They stared at him with blank eyes and Lunan couldn't tear himself from their gaze. His mind raced in shock and horror, but his desire to see his parents overrode the panic. He looked over the crowd, but couldn't spot them. He jerked back when a spirit reached out to him, extending a translucent arm forward.
"Stay back!" he said.
Following the spirit's lead, the others extended their hands toward Lunan. His body trembled as he desperately willed his legs into motion. As a low hiss filled the air and the spirits moved to converge on him, Lunan's legs were freed from his terror. He forced the door open, ran to the library, and stayed there until the trick-or-treaters returned.
He hid under the bed sheets when he went to sleep that night. When he returned the room, there was no sign of what transpired. As Lunan drifted into a fitful sleep, he wondered if Heather's fear was justified.
***
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