Shed Storm

Shed Storm

The white thickness, like a fog, or smoke in the purest form, was everywhere. I don't know whether it's the stereotypical white dreaminess of childhood memories or the actual mist that surrounded us on that happy day. I was there at the waterfalls in Idaho with my mother and father. Smiles on all our faces how I remembered the smiles. We were filled with joy, but why? That I can't remember. Maybe it was just the fact that we were all together. Perhaps it was the beautiful surroundings and the crashing sound of rushing water. It was the many rainbows in the mist, the scent and chill of the cool water. It was the feel of the mist on our skin. Or was it all just a dream? Maybe, but that is an answer I don't want to know. I would rather keep the possibility that maybe, just maybe, that moment of joy, of beauty, truly did happen.

The thought, be it a dream, or a memory, was gone as any other thought leaves with another to replace it in my restless mind. At this point I am at a small depression, not like that of one who continually dwells on the negative and lets it contort and twist the very outlook on the world around me. More like a short series of continuous nightmares that haunt me and will strenuously do so until I do something about it. What "it" is, I don't know exactly. Will I ever know or am I forever doomed to dwell upon it? No. To continue to dwell upon these things would be to contradict my earlier statement. My mind drifts again. This time it turns to the candle with its life flickering in the breeze of the fan in the doorway. Twisting around in my chair I reach, turning the whirring machine off. Funny how I would sacrifice my temperature comfort so that I may enjoy the calmness of the lit candle. Music flows filling

the shed with a relaxing atmosphere and my mind turns its ever wandering eye once again.

"Just make sure to call me during the week every once in a while, ok? I like talking to you." The voice, treasonous to my ears, spoke softly through the phone.

"Yea, sure thing dad." I lied. No problem doing it either. It was almost sick how I knew I was lying, yet I felt absolutely no remorse. I knew I would not call him. I knew that we would not speak again for quite some time to come. Did he know?

"Ok good. I love you" his voice was the same. He was absolutely ignorant. Maybe it was better that way.

"Bye dad." I waited to hear him say whatever it was he said and closed the phone line.

Thinking back on that moment that haunted me, I wondered why I was being the way I was toward my father. Then a soft whispering came from the corner of the shed. The corner the soft candlelight failed to reach. The darkness there seemed to flow. It moved slowly, gently, in waves or as a tiring dancer. From it came the voice. Unintelligible the words were whispered, like a foreign tongue, almost alien. I did not move. I only sat apathetically staring, not at the darkness, but next to it. My mind was lost in the mazelike pattern of the wooden wall.

"What will happen after high school?" She spoke softly staring up into my eyes. I broke the gaze to look out upon the ghost children that ran wildly about the empty playground. All around my field of view was a slight film of fog.

"There are several plans lined up," The words came out hesitantly but not unsure. "From which we may choose. So my idea is we use the process of elimination. I'll throw the plans at you and you tell me what you think."

The ghost children stopped their playing to listen in on our conversation. They came around like some sick story time gathering. Forming a rough circle with a few stragglers outside the children looked into me waiting for my reply. As if waiting for their salvation in my futile words.

The darkness in the corner stirred. My attention was captured, hijacked, commandeered by a force unknown by all but those who suffer the same disease. Was it disease? No. The word disease is far too harsh, for I have loved ones with this same so-called "disease." They, however, I could never call sick, or tainted. Then it moved again, it beckoned. The whispers became louder, more distinct. Had it grown? It had. I could no longer see the grain maze of wood that I had lost myself in before. The pool of darkness, it was swimming.

"Is this He?" Her questioning tone bothered me. She even stuttered.

"Yes." I replied but my tone was also questioning, questioning her previous statement. Through the phone though, one could make mistakes. Wrong numbers, friends that sounded the same, complete strangers that sounded the same.

"What is your girlfriend's name?" quizzically she pulled the last string. She wasn't convinced I was who I said I was. I felt almost hurt but then realized my previous thought, about wrong numbers and mishaps as such, still rang true.

I told her my girlfriend's name and sighed. "Come on. Are you convinced yet?"

"Yes... but why did you sound so different?" she stuttered again, which meant she was truly confused and thinking hard about whatever it was that she was thinking of.

"That story is surely a long one, one that we don't have nearly enough time for, and I don't wish to go into." I paused, thinking about the way the last comment was hurled out at her. She didn't deserve it. She was confused, and so was 1.1, however, had one up on her, I was confused and scared.

"Well, it's not like you're going to tell me that you are schizophrenic or anything." She laughed. She shouldn't have laughed. Neither should I have, but I did.

"No, I'm not going to tell you that." Thinking about my words I felt lost. My laugh had no smile in it but she couldn't tell the difference.

This time it almost seemed to lunge at me. It had grown to a massive size, taking up a fair portion of the shed now. The whispers were now a familiar voice. It was still quiet, and still foreign in tongue, but familiar. It moved with a gentle grace, which resembled the movement of bubbles in a lava lamp. Had it actually lunged at me, or was it just the suddenness of my snapping back to reality? The slow playing music stopped as my finger padded over the ipod and turned it off. Now I was alone with only the candle and the ever-growing darkness. I looked through it. Not with my eyes but with my mind. My eyes were closed and the darkness within was all around me. This curtain of darkness, different from the other in a way that it was breakable, showed swirls of color. Through them I peered into a vision. It was so beautiful.

"... So beautiful." My voice came out unheard but not unrealized. As I lie on the cool damp grass, I stared deep into the heavens at the blood red moon. It was as big as my fist, and the crimson, oh the crimson!

"What shall we name it bro?" I looked at my friend, and neighbor, who lie on the grass to my right. He and I had been friends since I moved here and we had been like brothers to each other. Now though, he was a slight shade of red, reflecting the moon as though he were the moon's moon. My arms began to itch where the grass was touching it so I crossed them over my chest. My friend had left for Vegas on Tuesday. It was Friday. He was moving there with his father and told me he would call me as soon as he arrived. He hadn't yet.

"I like the name 'Abysmal Moon'." I answered. "Why haven't you called yet?" He looked at me with sorrowful eyes. A cigarette hanged from his lips, the ember glowing to reflect in his right eye. He slowly faded away into the darkness as an ice cube in coffee. I turned back to the abysmal moon, which painfully reminded me of the cigarette ember. Will I ever hear from him again? Did something happen to him? Is he still alive?

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine." Her angelic singing always soothed me. I turned to look in the face of one of my best friends. She was lying to my left and also reflected the moonlight. This time, however, I looked closer and saw the transparency I had somehow missed when looking at my neighbor.

"You make me happy, when skies are grey." She was my ex-girlfriend and we had been through too much together to let that ruin our friendship. She was an insanely gifted singer. "You'll never know dear, how much I love you." When I turned my gaze back to the abysmal moon tears filled my eyes and I had no idea why.

"Please don't take my sunshine away." Her voice dwindled; she was swallowing down tears as well.

"The other night dear, as I lay sleeping, I dreamed I held you near; but when I woke dear I was mistaken, and I held

my head and I cried." Vanishing, her voice quieted until it was gone. It was as if she had never been there at all. Though she had not it was so real.

Tears streamed down my emotionless face. A comforting hand slipped under my own arms to rest upon my chest.

"Everything will be fine." My girlfriend laid her head on my shoulder and gazed up at the night time sun as well. The tears only fell harder, ripping the smooth rhythm in my breathing. They fell fully knowing that she was a phantom as the others and that she would soon disappear into the darkness of the night to join them.

"Tony knows." She sighed into my ear. My sullen face embraced a warm smile as the words reached my thoughts. They belonged to another familiar song. The words to which meant the world to me at the moment.

"Toe knee chest nut nose eye love you. Toe knee nose, toe knee nose." I sang back to her. The tears slowed but did not stop. I missed her now more than ever.

The darkness became darker. What happened? My eyes opened to find the same darkness. It was as if I was miles below the earth's surface, just above hell. It was so cold. The pool of deep black had morphed into a mass that filled every corner of the shed. It was all around me. The thing must have saved the candle for last so it could be as close to the kill as possible before revealing its presence. It was the perfect predator.

What was this calm that I felt? Through all this, not once did I panic, or even begin to worry. This black shell had consumed me, for all I knew I could be dead. Perhaps that explained the calm. No. I was calm throughout its growth too.

It didn't seem to make sense, but even as I pondered over this new revelation I remained completely placid.

"Do you not know what I am?" the voice came from all around me, completely clear and understandable. What was it? There was a power that seemed to be emanating from it. I could feel its presence surrounding me. Not smothering me but comfortably stalking me.

It had been with me since I could remember. It haunted me, stalked me, followed, and hunted me. Everywhere I went it was there. I knew what it was in a figurative way. Not exactly knowing but on the fringe of.

"Do not tell me. I do not want to know." I breathed; the cold was burning through my flesh taking away feeling. It seared my throat and melted into my lungs.

"It was not a memory." The voice was calm, as if it was unaffected by joy, or grief, pleasure, or pain. Stoically it went on. "The so-called 'joy' you experienced at the falls in Idaho, it was farce. When you were young, a picture was seen and imbedded into your memory. That memory is only a wish, for you do not remember that day but only the memory you concocted." As it went on I became afraid, afraid that this darkness could not lie, could not say anything but truth.

My hands lay folded across my stomach. If they had been apart it would have been more noticeable that they were trembling. My eyes roamed about the shed for a source of light, anything. Nothing was visible through the solid black shroud.

"H-how did you know? What do you know?" My voice came out squeaky just above a whisper. I was no longer placid.

"To say would be to bring comfort to your simplistic mortal mentality. To leave unknown is to bring chaos unto

your unruly understanding." Like a riddle from a jester with no emotion, the words soothed yet intimidated. If I had heard anyone else say the words this blanket of darkness was speaking to me I would have been upset. Yet here I was taking it all in, as if under some sort of spell.

"Your father has not called you once since you moved out of his house to live with your mother. He always waits, no matter how long, for you to call him. You have had enough and will wait for all eternity for him to call, if it is necessary, before you speak to him again." The voice was majestic, "You do not wish to hurt him, but you are tired of him doing so to you."

Had I lost my mind?

"No"

Was I going insane?

"No"

Was this all a dream?

"No"

With every thought that finds its way through the abyss of my mind, comes its' answer,

"You are on to something." It spoke

This hell is going to drive me inside out, through my own mind and back again.

"You are getting hotter." The words flowed gently into my ears echoing through my mind and as they did so the atmosphere around me seemed to sizzle. Heat filled the space around me and covered me, now it smothered me. I choked on the warmth as it found its way down my throat and into my lungs. Sharp pain pierced my lungs as they heated from the sub temperatures they had just endured previously. I doubled

over in my chair as the pain continued to grow and cripple my vigor. The inferno in my mind was becoming.

"You almost have it." The words came out lustily and in a raspy whisper.

What are you talking about? What are you? What do you want from me? Why do you remain here to torment me?

"I will be here until you die. As it has always been and as it will always be." The voice was anxious. "I do not torment you as the ghost children did that day on the playground. They were waiting for their salvation. You did not give it to them. It's too late for them. They left this world with nothing, for nothing, to have nothing. Why did you not help those poor souls?" The darkness showed emotion. Was it vulnerable?

"It was not my place to do." I defended myself. I was gaining ground with the conversation but hardly able to physically. My chest throbbed and my words came out with difficulty. "I was there with her, for her, and to have her. My problems are my own and theirs are not for me to deal with. It is impossible to save them now."

"They did not exist." The blackness smugly stated. If the darkness could smile I would have seen the biggest smile of them all. I had lost my ground. "They were only in your head. She did not see them. Why? Why do you think she did not see them? She could not because no one else on this planet could have but you. They only existed in your mind." The tone in the voice of darkness was sickening, was truthful; it was more than elated in showing me this tragedy.

"How?" the only word that could form and leave my aching chest. The heat only intensified. My sweat glands were working their hardest to keep up in attempting to keep me cool.

"They were delusions, apparitions of your own mind. You were stressed in finding the answers to her questions, in thinking about the future. So in being stressed your mind made illusions to take the pressure out making itself diverted, hence your words coming out hesitantly." It spoke slowly. As I listened my body grew used to the heat. I could still feel it there, throbbing like a fevered heart, but I was finding comfort in it.

"When you answered the phone to your friend and she did not think that it was you, do you know why she was not convinced at first?"

"No, I do not. Do you?" I did not even need to ask. I knew the phantasm shadow knew.

"It was not you that answered that phone. It was me. I answered and left you to attempt to explain yourself. You were absurd in the way you handled the situation. You handled it like a coward." The demon went on. "Why did you doubt yourself?"

"I did not know what was happening. I did not know what was going on, you cannot blame me."

"I can and I do."

I stood.

"Sit!" the darkness boomed.

My arms reached out for the door of the shed. It was not where it was supposed to be. Just then the darkness seemed to fade, to shrink away. The shed began to appear around me. The darkness was not leaving though. It was grouping, gathering, swarming into a mass that roughly represented a human form. Within the head of this dark figure there were holes of somehow darker darkness, where the eyes and mouth were meant to be. Its hands only held two large claw-like

fingers and an identical thumb. There were no detailed lines or features as it was only a mass of shadow.

The temperature declined into a normal room temperature, which felt cold to my flesh compared to the intense heat. I shivered uncontrollably as my body attempted to adapt to this sudden change. I teetered as I became light headed from the sudden changes of cold to hot so often.

"Sit! We are not finished." The mouth hole moved as the night creature spoke. I reluctantly sat back down and peered up to the face of this abomination. "You knew about me. You have known about me for years. You even told her that it was a long story that you did not wish to explain. Why? It is because you are a coward. Are you ashamed of me? Do you wish that I was no longer here to aid you, to give you strength?" The thing was furious. It was pulsating with heat; I could feel it from where I was sitting three feet away. Like the warmth of a fever it was almost sickly.

"Do you remember the blood moon? It was beautiful only because you had those you care about there to share it with. Do you know why they were there to share it with you? The phantoms were illusions of the darkness that surrounded you, the darkness that was me." The hole in the face of the evil that loomed in front of me formed into an even more evil smile. Anger and hatred filled me, fumed from every pore. This darkness had succeeded to consume me in a way that I had not expected. Instead of devouring me it captured me made me one with it, made me feel the same hatred and darkness within me.

"Your friend never existed, which means he never left for Vegas, which also means he'll never call you when he gets there. You can wait all you want, he was in your head." Were

the words of this beast true? Truth rang in his now gurgled voice. The sound of his voice was like that of someone whispering with a liquid resting in the back of their throat. No. I had caught the monstrosity in a lie. My friend did exist; I had been with him and his family at the same time. With him and others, I had witnesses to his existence.

"So you have, but are you sure you were even with them? Were they only in your head as well? What makes you so certain that you're not completely insane?" The voice unflawed, unwavering, unimpaired moved gracefully from the specters' hate filled throat.

"What the hell are you? Why are you even here? WHAT ARE YOU?" Bellowing out with an intensity so deep my face felt as if it were about to burst. "Tell me!" I screamed. The thing only stood stagnant and silent. Tears welled in my eyes as I thought of the possibility of it's' words being true.

What if the moments he spoke o/were only in my head? What if I had really lost it? No! My friend is real! His family is real! I know they are. So what if some of the other stuff wasn 't! It was my imagination, not some disorder, not some disease. I imagined it, but that doesn 't mean there's something wrong with me! People imagine things all the time!

"Calm down. You are right, people do imagine things all the time, but they do it on purpose. They do it and know that it's not real. They do it and it doesn't even seem real compared to your misadventures. As for what I am, I am not another phantom but more of a paradox. I am that which confuses yet expresses a possible truth, so therefore, I am a voice. I am not a voice that is perceptible by others, but only by you. I am a voice speaking parables that may or may not make any sense at all. I am as honest as you are, and just as deceiving. What I am

is what you make me to be, for I am the voice of your unheard thoughts. The thoughts that you push into the darkness of your mind, the abyss of your dreams; those thoughts are usually just as dark as the inferno you send them to. And those thoughts dwell there unheard, forgotten, forsaken to boil and brew. So here I exist between you and your darker mind, to be the translator. The face that reflects in the darkness of your eyes is what I am. Sometimes you hear me as your conscience other times you do not hear me at all. At times you hear me as the whisper behind you and when you turn to look you find nothing possible of emitting a voice. Other times 1 am the person standing just out of the corner of your eye; that draws your attention just enough to make you look but when you look I am only air. But all the time I am with you, all the time I am within you, all the time I am what you are. You cannot escape me, unless you intend to escape yourself. If you do and are successful find me out and let me know, because trust me you are not the most pleasant of minds to occupy."

For the first time in this shed storm a smile broke the surface of my lips.