Demetri

Alexis Grant followed the sound of her son’s laughter up the stairs to his room. Her young, round face was like a storm cloud, with her hazel eyes flashing in anger and her mouth set in a thin, white line. It contrasted poorly with her light brown hair, pulled up in an untidy bun, and her neat, trim figure. However, enough was enough when it came to her son Carter and his mischievous pranks. Alexis was tired of having to make excuses when it came to her only child.
Her green dress swirled as her footsteps quickly tapped down the hall to her son’s room. She could hear her boy talking energetically to someone above the clashes and clicks of Legos being used to build a phenomenal multi-colored masterpiece that only a mother could love. Alexis’s heart swelled slightly with pride at her boy’s ingenuity and cleverness, but she squashed it as soon as she remembered the nasty phone call she got from Mrs. Ling. She stopped at her son’s white, chipped door, and gave a courtesy knock before barging in.
“Carter Adam Grant, you are in for it this time!”
Her son yelped and shot to his feet, scattering Lego’s everywhere. His room was an illustration of boyhood. Carter’s room was painted a deep, dark blue with a white trim around the windows and doors, but you could barely seem them with the posters of various movies decking the walls between his bed and the two windows. Along with pennants from various vacations and colored pictures that could have been done by a young Leonardo Da Vinci--if he had had her child’s love of dinosaurs--the walls were one big advertisement for large toy corporations everywhere. Two books shelves along the walls above his bed were littered with former school projects, clay figurines, and other irreplaceable items that could only be labeled as “junk”. Cars, trucks, stuffed animals, game pieces, and heaven knew what else covered the floor, leaving a few big holes that surprisingly showed a light blue rug where one could place their foot.
Alexis used these to get closer to her offspring.
She had always been happy to see that Carter mostly resembled her, not his father. His light brown hair fell in short waves over his forehead. His hazel eyes, much like her own, stared up at her in worry as she bore down on him. His frame was that of most eight-year-old boys; skinny and always a bit too big for his clothes. Alexis wanted more than anything to pull her son towards her in a hug when she saw his lower lip tremble like it did when she scolded. She held back and spoke as sternly as possible.
“Carter, I need to talk to you. I just got off the phone with Mrs. Ling. Do you know what she told me?”
Carter shook his head guiltily.
“She told me that you were seen today throwing rocks at Eddie. You could have seriously hurt him! You know better! What on Earth possessed you?”
Carter cringed as his mother’s voice went higher and higher with rage. He lowered his head, and scuffed his foot on the floor, disturbing some of the Lego pieces. He would wait until she stopped shouting to get a word in.
Alexis took several deep breaths, calming herself enough to give the boy a long look of motherly rage. She couldn’t help being a little disturbed. This was the third time this week an angry mother had called their house, demanding an explanation for her son’s behavior towards their own. The acts were getting more and more dangerous, not just the general shoving and pushing. If she didn’t go down hard on her little boy he might end up behind bars, or worse, a psychiatrist’s desk.
“Would you care to tell me why you threw rocks at Eddie Ling?”
Carter gave a soft sigh of relief. His mother’s voice was calmer now, which was definitely an improvement from the screeching. She was still glaring at him; her eyes boring into his in a way that made him instinctively throw back his shoulders and tilt up his head. He recognized the fear in his mother’s eyes. He could use that fear to his advantage.
“He was throwing stuff at me first. I was just trying to teach him a lesson.”
“Carter, just because he threw something at you first does not make it right to throw rocks at him,” recognizing her child’s stubborn posture, Alexis went for the gentle-but-firm approach. “Next time he does that come to me, or tell any adult. Don’t try to handle it by yourself, okay?”
Carter’s eyes narrowed in speculation. How could his mother possibly understand how demeaning it was to have to tell you mother that another kid was throwing stuff at you? He was already labeled a freak for being the only kid on the block without a father. Now he had to go running to his mom whenever he had a small problem? She was starting to give him that sour look, though, and he knew that if he didn’t play his cards right he would be stuck without T.V for a week.
“Okay, Mom. I promise I won’t do it again. Can Demetri and I go play in the creek?”
Alexis tried to force the panic simmering in her to the back of her head. Demetri was her son’s imaginary friend, one he made up after Carter’s father abandoned them. Before it wasn’t a real issue, since many young children had imaginary friends. However, while most imaginary friends faded out after time, it was like Demetri was becoming more solid every day. All she ever heard about was Demetri and what he had done or what he was doing. Her son seemed unconcerned about making any other friends. The fact that the pranks her son pulled were often “Demetri’s” ideas was starting to become rather worrisome. However, she couldn’t resist giving her only child another chance to stay a little boy. He was, after all, the only little boy she had.
“You can go out and play, but only for a half an hour. Dinner will be ready soon, and then you have to write out an apology to Eddie for throwing rocks at him. Don’t shake your head at me! You are going to write it, and then I’m going to read it to see if it’s appropriate.”
With that last remark, she left the room to stomp downstairs. Carter made a face at the door before turning to Demetri.
“She never gets it,” he sighed and lay down on his unmade bed. His friend watched him. Carter had seen a few pictures of ghosts on T.V. and had the impression that his friend was a lot like a ghost. He was a short, pale boy with black hair and black eyes. Even the clothes he wore were black, right down to his sneakers. He didn’t often smile when he was around others, like the children of the neighborhood or Carter’s mother, but when he was with Carter, he drudged up a small, thin-lipped smile that look suspiciously like a sneer. That didn’t bother Carter at all. Demetri was a good listener, and very sympathetic to his tales from school. He was also good at making up new games. Like the time they had searched Carter’s attic looking for clues as to where Carter’s father went. Demetri never laughed or threw things at Carter. Demetri was his one, true friend.
“She has trouble understanding things about you. Most mothers do. But I understand you. Who wouldn’t have thrown rocks at that stupid Eddie? He’s a jerk. He deserved all that he got.” Demetri’s voice was a smooth, silky croon that helped soothe Carter’s wounded pride. Demetri’s voice was often soft and had a faint hiss in it. It often felt that Demetri was ready to attack anyone who hurt his friend. Carter liked the protection.
“Yeah, he’s stupid. But now I got to write a letter saying I’m sorry.” Carter said dolefully.
Demetri shrugged. “It’s not worth getting upset about, Carter. Write the letter to make your mom happy, and then do what you want to do. I’ll help.”
Carter sat up “You’ll help write the letter?” he asked suspiciously. Demetri doing something nice for anyone other than Carter was highly unusual.
Demetri smiled wickedly. “No, silly. I’ll help you do whatever you want to do.”
Carter lay back down, mollified. What did he want to do…?

Alexis sighed as she took away Carter’s half-eaten plate of dinner and “Demetri’s” full one. This happened every night. She always had to fix a plate for her son’s imaginary friend, and watch as her son continued to have a conversation with thin air. Somehow, this obsession with his friend had gotten worse instead of better. She had only been hoping that this was a phase; something her son would go through until he reached school age and started making new, real friends. Instead he rejected anyone who tried being his friend and clung to Demetri. Alexis didn’t know what to do.
She was sure of one thing—Demetri had sprung into being when Carter’s father had left. Her ex-husband had left them when Carter was only four years old, and had never sent so much as a letter to his son. Sometimes Alexis wondered if he even remembered he had one. She had just told Carter that his father left because he had important things to do; perhaps Carter would see him someday. For now, she had told him, just be happy you were blessed with a loving mommy. Alexis knew it was horrible to lie to a child, but she couldn’t force herself to tell her son, her pride and joy, and the only family she had left, that his father had left because he couldn’t handle the responsibility of being an adult.
Alexis finished the dishes and went over to look into the living room. Carter was sitting in front of the television—sitting far too close since he thought she wasn’t looking—and smiling along to the theme song of Spongebob Squarepants. He appeared to be a happy, well adjusted little boy. But then he turned and said something to the empty spot next to him. Alexi fought back a sob. It was just too much.
She hurried back into the kitchen and rifled through the junk drawer. A few weeks ago, she had been discussing with one of her friends about Carter’s odd behavior. Her friend had suggested a well-known child psychologist.
“I don’t think Carter really needs…”Alexis had started snottily, but her friend had cut her off.
“Look, Alexis. You’re a single mom with a kid who just can’t communicate with other children. You can’t be expected to shoulder all the burdens. You think this may have something to do with Carter’s father, but you don’t know. Carter probably doesn’t even know why he acts the way he does. Since he doesn’t know, he certainly cannot tell you. Maybe a psychologist can help him sort through his feelings and get to the root of the problem. It’s better than never knowing…just give it a try.”
Alexis had put the business card in the junk drawer, figuring that she would just call the psychologist if Carter started to show signs that were worth worrying about.
This seemed like a sign.
Alexis shot upward when she heard Carter call from the living room.
“Mom! Can me and Demetri have some ice-cream?”
Alexis walked into the living room to see her son on the couch, where he was supposed to be. “Can Demetri and I have some ice-cream,” she corrected. She hid a smile when Carter clearly tried to roll his eyes without her seeing. “Yes, you may. Come in the kitchen and I’ll get you a bowl.”
She placed her hand on her son’s shoulder as he walked by her, but jerked it away. For a second—a tiny millisecond—it had seemed like there was another hand underneath hers.
When Carter was up in his room, supposedly working on homework, Alexis picked up the phone and called the psychologist.

“So, Carter. How are you today?” asked the man in the large, leather seat.
Carter sat on a comfortable, kid-sized chair across from the man, wondering to himself why he was here. The man seemed all right—his mom said he had just wanted to ask a few questions—and he looked pretty nice. Dr. Bergen was a handsome man, with dark brown hair just beginning to silver at the temples, and warm brown eyes that smiled in Carter’s direction. The doctor slouched slightly in his seat much like Carter did; only he sat with a yellow notepad and pen in his lap. Carter wondered why he needed to see a doctor…he wasn’t feeling sick. But his mother had told Carter to just be himself, and everything would be fine.
Carter glanced over to where Demetri was standing by the door, with his arms crossed over his thin chest, staring at Dr. Bergen. Carter couldn’t tell if Demetri liked or disliked the man, but he knew the only way they would get to leave was if he answered the man’s questions.
“I’m good.” He answered the question vaguely, hoping the doctor wouldn’t push.
To his surprise, he didn’t. “That’s excellent to hear. How is school going?”
Carter sat up a little straighter. “Oh, it’s going ok. We’re doing long division now. It’s hard, but I kind of like it.”
The doctor smiled kindly. “You like math? What other subjects do you like?”
Carter considered this. “I like math, yeah…I like science too. Reading is only fun if it’s about dinosaurs though. The stuff they make us read sometimes is boring. But I’m good at reading.” He said quickly. He didn’t want the doctor to think he was stupid or anything.
Dr. Bergen only smiled wider, and jotted something down on his notepad. “That’s good, that’s good. How about specials? You know; art, music, P.E? You like any of those?”
Carter nodded dutifully. “Yes, I like art and music. Computer class is fun too. But I don’t like P.E very much.” Carter looked at his lap. “I’m…not very good at sports, so the other kids make fun of me sometimes.”
The doctor looked at him sympathetically,” I know what that is like. I used to get teased during gym too.”
Carter stared at the man in shock. He had told his mother a thousand times about his trouble in gym, but all she said was that he was “a late bloomer”; whatever that was. He had never gotten someone like a doctor to say he had trouble in gym too. Pleased, Cater asked, “Really?” He could never imagine someone as good-looking and supposedly healthy as Dr. Bergen being bad at sports.
The doctor nodded, grinning widely. “Oh yeah. I was always picked last for teams…I could never run the mile or kick the ball as well as the other kids. Whenever I made a tiny mistake they would laugh and make fun of me.”
“They do that to me too!” Carter blurted out eagerly. Finally, someone got it!
Dr. Bergen leaned forward in his chair, “It used to make me angry a lot. Does it make you angry, Carter?” he asked gently.
Carter nodded, still gleeful that someone like Dr. Bergen got picked last for teams too.
“Do you sometimes get too angry? Do you sometimes want to punish the kids who made you mad?”
Feeling like a trap had suddenly sprung on him Carter just sat there and stared. He glimpsed over to the corner. Demetri was staring at the doctor with a distinct look of hatred on his pointed face.
The doctor sat back for a minute, and sensing that Carter wasn’t going to answer, said genially, “It’s ok, Carter. I won’t tell your mom everything we talked about. If there is anything you want to tell me, and want me to keep a secret, just let me know, ok?”
Carter only nodded, feeling betrayed.
The doctor smiled again. “Ok. So, Carter, what do you do when you’re not at school? Do you play video games, watch television, hang out with friends…?”
Carter looked at the floor and mumbled, “I watch television, mostly. And I play with my legos and stuff. I don’t have any video games. Mom says they are a waste of money.”
“What about friends?” Dr. Bergen pushed.
“I….” Carter looked over at Demetri and saw that he was holding a finger to his lips. “I…don’t have any friends. I like to play by myself.”
The doctor nodded and wrote something down on his notepad.
“Carter, who’s Demetri?” he asked suddenly.
Carter blinked, surprised. “He’s…nobody. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He fudged.
“Your mom says you talk a lot about a friend named Demetri. Why do you talk about him if he’s just nobody?”
Carter felt another sting a betrayal. How could his mother tell this…stranger about Demetri? He looked over at his friend, who was simply shaking his head. “I don’t know anyone named Demetri.” He said, panicking, “She’s lying.”
The doctor stared at Carter so long he started to sweat. Finally, the doctor looked at the clock, and placed his notepad on his desk. “Ok, Carter. That’s enough for today. Thanks for talking to me. We’ll pick this up again next week, ok?”
Carter glared at this man who had invaded his privacy. “Ok.” He said frostily, and walked out to where his mother was waiting.

Alexis made Carter go sit in the car while she talked to Dr. Bergen. She had to stop herself from running her fingers through her hair to straighten it, and from smoothing out her white cotton blouse. She did, however, take the time to look her reflection over in a nearby window. She looked passable; the white blouse and elegant, black slacks made her look both serious and feminine. She nervously shook Dr. Bergen’s hand and hoped he didn’t feel the sweat on her palms. He was just so handsome, and he had the nicest brown eyes.
Dr. Bergen smiled, and Alexis felt her heartbeat pick up. “Ms. Grant. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person. Now, Carter; your son seems to be a good boy, but is a bit introverted. I think that is why he made up this imaginary friend. He has trouble with being teased in school, and this makes him close up. It is easier for him to create a friend—one who isn’t judgmental and helps him with his self-esteem—than to make any friends himself. He won’t admit to having an imaginary friend. That’s not too uncommon; most children don’t like to admit to having an imaginary friend if they think they are going to be punished for it. I think if we continue these sessions, Carter will learn to open up. Once he opens up to me, he may be able to open up more with his classmates, and make some real friends. I am confident that once he makes real friends, this “Demetri” will go away.”
Alexis had nodded throughout the entire diagnosis. Sensing he was finished, she asked hurriedly, “But…why is he suddenly exerting aggressive behavior? I’ve been getting a lot of calls from other mothers telling me that he’s been throwing rocks, punching, biting…why is he doing that?”
Dr. Bergen smiled gently, “Ms. Grant, your son is still very young. He has all these emotions--anger, fear, and self-pity--and he is not sure what to do with them. So he acts out. Again, if we continue these sessions, I may be able to get to why he acts aggressively and together we can fix it.”
Alexis liked the way he said together. It was like the two of them would team up to defeat whatever inner demons her son had. She beamed at Dr. Bergen. “Thank you so much, Doctor. We’ll be back again next week.”
Dr. Bergen smiled warmly, “I’ll be looking forward to it.” He said, making her heart flutter.
Alexi watched as he went back into his office. As she turned to write the receptionist the first check she glanced out the window, towards her car. She did a double take when she checked to see that Carter was still sitting in the back seat. Her son was still there; but for a minute it looked as if there had been another boy in the car with him. She stared out the window for so long that the receptionist asked if she was all right. The boy was gone now…but how could she have possibly seen a boy other than her son in the back seat?

Carter stared at Demetri as his friend paced around the room. He had been going to Dr. Bergen for two weeks now. Usually he asked the same questions; “How is school going?” “Have you made any new friends?” “Read any new books about dinosaurs?” Stuff like that. He hadn’t mentioned Demetri since their first meeting, but Carter was being extra careful. He would calmly say that school was going well, that he was good in class, and he had read a lot of new books on dinosaurs. He never mentioned Demetri, or any of the games they played after school. He certainly didn’t mention how Demetri had made Eddie Ling fall while playing on the jungle gym, making him break his collarbone. He knew better than that. But the doctor’s questions were changing now; he was asking stuff about Carter’s mom.
Carter wouldn’t have been so concerned about this usually. After all, his mom was the only parent he had; it stood to reason that the doctor would want to know more about her. But Carter felt the doctor wasn’t asking these questions because he wanted to see how Carter felt about his mother. If so, he could’ve just asked outright. Carter had never hated his mother. Not once. His mother had been the one constant in his life since he was four. She loved him, he loved her. That was that.
The doctor, though, asked odd questions. Like what her favorite restaurant was. Or her favorite type of flowers. It was easy stuff mostly; Carter could answer the questions, he just didn’t understand why they were being asked. This was why he had told Demetri about the new and rather disturbing predicament.
Demetri turned from his pacing to look at Carter, his black eyes flashing triumphantly. “He likes her.” He stated.
Carter snorted, “Of course he likes her. Everyone does.” Carter couldn’t even fathom someone not liking his mother.
Demetri shook his head in exasperation. “No, no, no. Carter, don’t you get it? He really likes her.”
Carter blinked. “Like, as in likes? Like girls sometimes get with those mushy notes?” He had never received one himself, but he had seen a few of the guys at school pick up crudely written love poems off their desks. The whole idea of Dr. Bergen liking his mother that way…Carter wrinkled his nose in revulsion. “Gross.” He wailed.
Demetri smiled at Carter and sat down next to him on the bed. “Well, that’s what it is. He really likes her. That’s why he’s asking stuff about her. He wants to give her mushy notes and flowers and…”
“Stop, stop!” groaned Carter, rolling about on the bed making gagging noises. The image of Dr. Bergen giving his mother flowers was making him sick.
Demetri giggled; a high pitched noise that would occasionally send chills down Carter’s spine. “Well, what should we do now? Do you want your mom to see Dr. Bergen? Cause we can fix it so she doesn’t”.
Carter looked at Demetri through his fingers. “How?” he asked suspiciously.
Demetri shrugged carelessly. “Whatever you want. You’re my friend. I won’t let some…man get in the way of what you want to do.”
Carter sat up, and thought about it. He didn’t really hate Dr. Bergen, but the thought of him going out with his mother was sickening.
“Besides,” Demetri added quietly. “What if she falls in love with the guy and abandons you too?”
Carter sat up straight and stared at his friend. Demetri looked back at him blandly, as if he had never mentioned something so horrible. After a few more minutes, Carter said flatly, “Do it.”
“Do what?”
“Whatever it takes to get rid of him.”
Demetri smiled coldly. “Whatever you want to do, Carter.”

Alexis held back a sob as she got off the phone with Dr. Bergen’s receptionist. To have something like that happen to a man like him...
“Something wrong, Mom?” asked Carter, carelessly throwing his backpack on the floor of the kitchen.
Alexis wiped away a tear and sat her son down seriously. “Honey, I’ve got to talk to you. Dr. Bergen…well, sweetheart, he’s passed away.”
Carter looked at her, his big hazel eyes filled with calm acceptance. “How did he die?” her son asked quietly.
Alexis stood up slowly, pushing down another wave of sadness. “I guess he was going to walk down the stairs in his house and he somehow tripped. He hit his head when he fell and I suppose he hit it too hard. He died at the hospital this morning. I’m sorry, honey. I know you liked him.”
Her son looked at her still, and for a fleeting moment Alexis thought she saw satisfaction flicker through his blue-grey eyes. She shook off the thought as her imagination when her son looked at the floor sadly. “That sucks.” He murmured.
Alexis sniffled. “It certainly does. Come on, Carter. We have to get dressed. We were invited to the wake. Go find your black shirt and slacks…they should be in the back of your closet.”
As Carter hurried upstairs to obey, Alexis turned back to the counter and allowed herself to let loose a few, small tears for the late Dr. Bergen.

Carter lay in bed that night, looking at Demetri with his head on the pillow. “I didn’t think you were going to do that.” He whispered to Demetri, who sat across the room in the dark. He could barely see his friend in the light from the window; he could only see Demetri’s face.
“You said to take care of it.” Demetri whispered back calmly. “So I did. Now he will never take your mother away from you.”
Carter frowned at his friend. “I don’t know…”
Demetri smiled at Carter. “He deserved it. You know he did.”
Carter simply rolled over and faced the wall.

Alexis quietly walked up the stairs, listening for sounds of muffled giggles and any other signs that her son was still awake when he was supposed to be in bed. The wake had gone well, or as well as anything that tragic could go. Carter had sat silently by her side all night. He didn’t so much as blink when they went up to place flowers near the open casket.
Alexis wasn’t sure what to do now. What had happened to Dr. Bergen was horrible, but it also placed her in a terrible position. She didn’t want to bring Carter to another psychologist. He had gotten on very well with Dr. Bergen, and she did not want to push her son into anything her did not want to do. But she knew he was still talking to Demetri. She saw it tonight, when she had turned to look at her son and saw her staring at something up against the wall. At first she thought he was just daydreaming, but then she saw him nod at whatever he was looking at. Clearly, Demetri was still around.
Alexis walked down the dark hallway towards her son’s room. She didn’t hear any sounds from behind the door, other than a slight bump as Carter accidentally kicked the wall like he was wont to do. Smiling, Alexis turned to go back downstairs. She had to ling her hands over her mouth to cover a shriek when she saw a face looking at her from near the stairs.
The face was white as paper, with thin lips and black, soulless eyes. The mouth curved upwards in a smile, and she could have sworn the…thing moved closer to her.
“W-what do you want?” She half-whispered. The part of her that was sane wanted to race into her son’s room, grab him, and run as fast as she could away from the house. The other part of her kept her voice low, refusing to believe that she was really seeing a face in the dark.
The face only smiled, and disappeared. Fearful that it would return, Alexis ducked her head into her son’s room, to make sure it hadn’t gone in there. She saw nothing but a lump under Carter’s covers where he slept, peacefully unaware of the creature roaming about the hallway. Alexis considered going into his room and curling up next to him on the bed, to protect him. Unfortunately, her heart was still pounding from the encounter, and fear made her hurry back down the stairs to the brightly-lit kitchen. She sat at the table and shivered like the coward she was.

Alexis kept a tight hold of the pot she was holding—not to keep it from spilling but to keep her hands from shaking. For the past two days, she had been seeing that same head float around. She had become so afraid that she hadn’t even followed Carter upstairs to his room when he returned home. She had sat in the kitchen, listening to him thrown things on the floor and run upstairs, trying to gather up the courage to follow. In the end, she couldn’t do it. She simply started dinner, shivering uncontrollably from dread and self-disgust.
She still couldn’t believe she had run back downstairs those few nights ago. She was a failure as a mother; instead of staying to protect her child she had run away. No wonder Carter had created an imaginary friend. Maybe “Demetri” could protect him from whatever was flying about the house. Alexis bit her lip as she thought of that white face, and the black, pitiless eyes. She had seen it again last night; just outside the bathroom. Panicked, she had scampered around the house, turning on as many lights as she could downstairs. As she did, she thought she could hear almost-inaudible laughter following her.
She had no idea what this thing was, or why it was in her house. She wasn’t altogether certain it was even real. What if she was just so stressed out, she was seeing things?
Alexis shrieked and dropped the pot when the phone suddenly trilled to life. Gasping and holding her chest, she picked it up and answered. “H-hello?” she listened closely, then threw the phone back on its hook. Completely forgetting about the floating head, Alexis sprinted up the stairs and down the hall to her son’s bedroom.
It could not be true….
Alexis slammed into Carter’s room and stared. The scene was totally different from all the other times she had burst into his room. Instead of playing on the floor with his toys, or talking animatedly to his imaginary friend, Carter was sitting on the bed completely still, half-slouched over his arm. His collar ripped, his shirt torn in several places. He was covered in dirt, and just underneath his chin, she could see a dark stain starting to spread into the fabric.
“Carter,” she breathed. He did not so much as look up, “What have you done?”
Carter just slouched over a little further. Alexis strode to the bed and jerked him out of his position. The knife that he had been hiding fell onto the covers. She grabbed it before he could, and when she saw what was on it, she felt sick. Blood dripped down the butcher knife like red paint, streaming down until it started to sink onto her fingers. Repulsed, she flung the knife on the floor. Carter winced.
“Y-you….you stabbed someone…” she could barely force the words out of her mouth. “Carter, do you understand how serious this is? T-that boy was hurt horribly. They don’t think…they have no idea if he’ll make it.” She stared down at her boy, her life. He didn’t look at her, but watched the covers. She pulled him up a little straighter, and choked when she saw the red stain on his shirt. She was deathly certain that it was not her son’s blood. “Carter. How could you stab someone? What could he possibly have done…what were you possibly thinking when you did this?” her voice had started out as a whisper, but soon rose to a screech.
She wanted to shake him, to get him to look at her and say it wasn’t his fault. Someone else had done it; he was just an innocent bystander. No eight-year-old could be that ruthless, that cruel. Especially not her son, not her Carter. “Carter, please! Tell me why! Tell me!” she shouted, and gave him a small, half-hearted shake.
Carter finally looked up at her, his eyes blank. “He deserved it.” he said quietly.
Alexis covered her mouth with her hand, and unable to face this…stranger who looked like her son, she went back downstairs.

Carter watched his mother’s retreat, got up, and closed the door. Slowly, he took off his shirt and studied it. The stain reminded him of a test he had done with the late Dr. Bergen. Something the doctor had called a Rorschach test. He had looked at ink blots on a piece of paper and was supposed to tell the doctor what the image was. Demetri had been with him at the time, and had told him what to say.
A house. A family of three. A bird.
Carter watched as the stain set in, the blood coursing through the threads in the weave, not unlike the way it coursed through the body’s veins.
He looked over at Demetri, who was standing near the window, smiling. It had been Demetri who had gotten him the knife. It had been Demetri who had told him where to slice that boy, the one who had stomped on Carter’s lunchbox at recess. It had been Demetri who had clapped when Carter had stabbed just where his friend told him to…and had watched the blood gush like a fountain when he hit the right vein.
Carter threw the shirt on the ground and got a new one from his closet.
Demetri watched all this passively. “What do you want to do now?” he asked.
Carter pulled on his new shirt. “I probably should wait to go downstairs. She’s pretty mad right now.”
Demetri shook his head. “Carter, you know…”
Carter spun to star at his friend. “What?” he asked gruffly.
“You’re mother is starting to worry me. She didn’t even care that you defended yourself from that bully! I don’t think she’s going to take kindly to the way we punish our enemies. It may be time to…” Demetri stopped, but Carter waved him on. “it may be time to get rid of her.” He said quietly.
Carter gasped, and shot a look at the door, half-expecting his mother to burst through again. “Are you crazy?” he hissed. “I would never hurt my mother! She loves me.”
“She thinks you’re crazy.” said Demetri flatly, “If we don’t take care of her soon, she might send you away. I can’t come visit you if you’re sent away, you know.”
“She doesn’t think I’m crazy!”
“Did you see the look on her face when you said that bully deserved it? That was fear, not happiness. She doesn’t understand you like I do. She’ll never understand that you’re not doing this because you like to hurt people; you’re just doing it because they hurt you first! She thinks you’re becoming a monster. Before you know it, she’ll lock you up.”
Carter shook his head emphatically, but Demetri’s words were starting to ooze into his brain like honey. He loved his mother…but he didn’t want to be locked up either.
“What…what do we do about it, though?” Carter licked his lips nervously.
Demetri grinned, knowing he had won the fight. “What do you want to do about it Carter?”

Alexis had not spoken to her son since she saw the bloody knife. She sat at the kitchen table, staring up at the ceiling, even though her son’s room was technically a few feet away from the kitchen ceiling. What was going through his head? She knew he was probably scared right now. She wanted him to know she was scared too. Scared for him, scared for herself. She wanted all of this to just go away. She wanted things to go back the way they used to be.
How had he even gotten the knife? That question continued to force itself to the top of her head. She hadn’t seen him come inside; she didn’t even hear the front door open. He certainly hadn’t had time to grab one last night, because she had been down here. He didn’t garb it this morning; she was in the kitchen with him the entire time. Had he borrowed it from someone? Was there someone else pulling the strings?
Alexis went to her own bedroom, and lay on her bed. Rolling over, she opened her nightstand drawer and looked inside. The handgun she kept there was still in its box, or at least she thought it was. She pulled the key out from underneath her mattress and opened the box. She sighed with relief when she saw the gun still in its case, safe and snug.
She hadn’t really wanted the gun, but a burglary scare a few years back had made her go out and buy one. She was, after all, the only adult in the house. There was no man to wander about with a baseball bat, searching for burglars or bad guys. She couldn’t afford to feed and take care of a guard dog. The gun at least gave her the illusion of safety. She had never shown it to Carter, since she didn’t want him somehow finding a way to open the box and hurt himself.
Alexis shot up in bed and looked up at the ceiling again. What if he had somehow found it? What if it was the gun that gave him the idea that violence was ok?
What if all of this was somehow her fault?
Terror welled up inside her, and she curled up on her side, pressing her eyes shut. She couldn’t bear it. She couldn’t bear seeing her child hurt, but she was starting to hate what he had become. Where had he gotten this behavior?
She sat up when she heard a soft, chilling laugh. She looked at the foot of her bed and yelled in horror Standing there was the floating head she had seen, only now it was attached to a thin body, with black hair that nearly covered the soulless eyes. The boy smiled coldly at her and walked out of the room. Alexis, frightened out her wits, sat on the bed for a moment longer before she yanked her gun out of the box and followed.
She was going to be a good mother, damn it. She was going to destroy this thing that was in her house. She was going to get rid of this poison that was surely making her son act so terrible.
She followed the laughter up the stairs to her son’s bedroom. The boy stood outside the door, grinning at her. She yelled and held the gun to his head.
“Don’t move.” She shouted, and went to grab the boys’ arm. “Stay still you…you…” before she could figure out a good name for the creature, he opened the door to her son’s room and raced inside.
“You won’t get my son,” she screamed. “You can’t have my son!”
She pulled the trigger, and the recoil sent her flying backwards. She stumbled upright, using the wall for balance as she looked into Carter’s room. Her head was still ringing from the shot, so she was confused by the scene before her. The boy was gone now, though she didn’t see a body on the floor. All she saw was her son writing on his bed, grasping his arm.
It took her a long while to differentiate the ringing from the gunshot from her son’s agonized screams.

Alexis sat in the back of the police car, not seeing the mesh wire in front of her face. She had shot her son. How could she have possibly shot her own son? The boy had been right there in front of her. How could he have gotten away? She turned, her handcuffs clinking as she tilted her body to look out the window back at her house.
She could see a neighbor standing inside the living room, giving a policeman his statement. A paramedic was leaving through the door, shaking his head as he talked into his radio. Alexis felt a twinge of relief. Carter had to be all right, if there wasn’t an ambulance. Maybe she hadn’t shot him in the arm.
Hopefully she looked up towards the window of Carter’s room. She could see him, if she focused. She saw Carter standing in the window, looking down at the cars and the neighbors talking in the front of their house. She frowned, straining her eyes to see the blurry shape next to her son.
She screamed when she saw the back-haired boy slide his arm around Carter’s shoulders, and smile down at her.