The Darkest Night (Content Warning)

“Bloody hell, Tom! This is the third school they expelled you from for fighting, why can’t you just behave?!”

“I wouldn’t have been kicked out if you just let me go to that magic school when Caricc came for me!”

“What’s the point? They’d toss you out of that one too!”

“Or maybe I’d actually like it because I’d be far away from you!” Tom twirled and stalked out the front door, slamming it hard enough to rattle the glass.

His eyes burned as Charlotte screamed, but he ignored both, finding his feet moving of their own accord down the sidewalk towards the abandoned park. A muscle in his cheek twitched and tears welled, causing him to screw up his face and let out a whimper as his black eye smarted.

When the soft grass was underfoot, Tom dropped to his hands and knees, fingers digging into the dirt. He coughed, trying to breath as his throat closed and chest tightened.

This park was where he came as a child for solace. It marked the furthest he had run away from home, but now he was older and it was too close; too close to the selfish, lying bitch who had given birth to him.

Tom staggered to his feet and continued walking. He didn’t care where he went as long as it was away from her. Hopelessness crashed over him as clouds hid the sun from view. Cold drops splashed across his bare arms and he crossed them over his chest, shivering.

Could he find Caricc again? The man who painted a wonderful picture of castles and magic in his head?

You’ll never find him.

Tom jerked back, clutching his hair and moaning. “No, not again, please don’t let it be real.”

The voices developed only recently, whispering to him. They started at school where he swore the other kids would say things behind his back. Unable to stand it, he snapped, attacking the boy unlucky enough to be in his path.

But now he was completely alone, and the whispering still plagued him.

“What’s happening to me?” Tom’s breath came fast as he tried to fill reluctant lungs, but it felt like the air was made of water and each gasp only brought him closer to suffocation.

Dizzy, exhausted, and his feet aching, Tom only stopped walking when the Queensland Wood loomed above him. Lurching forward, a bench materialized down the path and he slumped into it, staring blankly at his hands.

Keep walking.

Tom shook his head violently, a shiver scuttling up his spine as the uneasy feeling of being watched settled over him. He flicked his eyes back and forth and something silvery darted behind a tree. With a yelp of surprise, Tom leapt to his feet, but there was nothing there.

Heart pounding, he sat back down on the bench, digging in his back pocket with trembling fingers. He withdrew an old battered wallet and took out the two crumpled euros; the only spending money he ever had, which he had found stuck on a bush on his way home from school.

Now he placed them on the bench, dropping a small pile of change on top to keep the bills from blowing away. The other contents included a library card, an I.D. and…

Tom slid the razor blade from the front pocket. The last rays of the dying sun flashed as it fell beneath the cloud line, glinting through the branches and off the blade. He had stolen it from the art room at school more than a week ago.

Do it.

The crack of a twig and laughter startled Tom. He forced the blade back into the pocket, slapping the wallet shut. A couple rounded the corner of the path with their dog. They ignored him as they walked passed, but the dog stopped and growled.

Tom looked at it dully and the owner pulled on the leash, forcing it to follow. With a sigh, he slid from the bench and walked deeper into the woods. The earlier rain had cooled the evening down considerably and a chill settled deep in his bones.

Fresh tears tumbled onto the dead leaves as he stumbled around numbly. The sun fell below the horizon and the trees loomed out of the darkness, forcing him to turn this way and that, causing all sense of direction to flee.

Stop.

The voice was so loud and unexpected, Tom jumped into the air and tripped over a root, landing in a huddle on the cold wet leaves.

Use it.

The voice was right. What did he have here except a hateful mother and a father who didn’t care? No one would miss him andhe wouldn’t be a burden anymore.

Tom’s hands shook as he pulled out the wallet. He didn’t need to see to know where the razor blade was. He slid it from the pocket and dropped it on his palm.

Do it.

Join us.

None of it matters anyway.

The voices swirled in his head. All he wanted was for them to stop, to leave him alone. He wanted his mind back to himself.

The blade was smooth and cold as he rubbed his fingers over it.

It will all be over soon.

Tom braced the razor against the vein in his arm.

Good, keep going.

A silver flash out of the corner of his eye caused him to twist sharply and the blade cut deeply into his arm. Tom cried out in pain and dropped the bloodied razor. Hot sticky liquid coursed from the wound and suddenly the woods lit up with sliver beings, all staring at him, whispering, whispering.

Now just lay down and wait.

You’ll be one of us soon.

No one can save you now.

Adrenaline raced through Tom’s blood stream as he twirled in a circle and found himself surrounded by the translucent beings. Ghosts.

Tom ran. Roots seemed to pop up from the ground to trip him and tree branches reached out, snagging his t-shirt and hair. The ghosts kept pace with him, flitting just out of sight. His heart raced and his breath hitched. Blood gushed from the wound, turning his hand red.

There is no where to run.

Give up now.

A wave of dizziness passed over Tom and he tripped over his own feet. He barely felt the ground as it rose to meet him. Breathing was getting harder and he began to hyperventilate, causing a lightheadedness he couldn’t shake.

The rising moon cast a white glow over the forest but Tom didn’t see it. His vision tunneled and a scream floated across his consciousness but he couldn’t be sure who it belonged to or if it was even real. His eyelids drooped and the peace he had so yearned for fell over him.

***

The first thing he was aware of was a beeping. Next, a sharp pain in his right arm. But that wasn’t right, it was his left arm he had…

Tom’s eyes sprang open. He was in a hospital room, hooked up to several machines. The sterile smell made him crinkle his nose. His left arm had a white bandage wrapped around it, but his right was where the true horror lie.He looked up into the eyes of his mum. The pain was her ripping the IV from his arm and pulling the heartbeat sensor from his finger.

“What…?” he croaked.

“Get up. We are leaving.” She pulled the white linen blanket from his legs and threw his clothes at him.

“I don’t think-”

“I don’t care what you think! I can’t afford a hospital bill, get your clothes on, we are going, now.” She glared at him, arms crossed as he did as he was told. Both arms were stiff and sore but he didn’t dare complain. The heartbeat sensor had flatlined and hasty footsteps were audible in the hallway.

Charlotte slammed the door open and pulled Tom out, gripping the wounded arm tightly. He squeaked with pain but bit his lip to keep it in. Tears swam in his eyes as she pulled him away from the doctor and two nurses coming down the hall.

“Ma’am, you can’t just take him!” The doctor had a stethoscope bouncing on her chest and she was waving her hands at Charlotte.

“He’s my son and I’m checking him out, he is leaving with me or so help me god!” Charlotte screamed, dragging Tom through the waiting room and out the sliding glass doors.

Pulled up on the curb in the emergency lane was the car. She flipped the door handle and flung it open, shoving Tom inside. His cheeks burned, he knew the hospital staff was watching.

Charlotte sped off the curb with a thud, peeled through the parking lot, and skidded onto the highway. Tom glanced down at the bandages. A red dot blossomed, spreading quickly.

He had failed.

There’s always next time.

Tom hugged his knees to his chest and buried his face, crying silently all the way home.