It’s late, far too late for a child to still be out wandering the streets, yet branches rustle with birds fleeing the sound of small footsteps on the asphalt. Slow and methodical, left foot first, step, then the right, step, left again, step, step, step. The small feet only stop moving once they’re positioned in front of an old newspaper box.
“‘Faceless Killer’ Still at Large.” The headline is all he can make out through the dust and pollen caking the clear plastic, but it’s enough to make him smile.
Months ago, his name was Jeffrey, or just “Jeff” for short. He hadn’t ever really thought about it, but he had a respectable life. He was never exactly class president, but he had his own group of friends, consistently got Bs on his report cards, ate dinner with his family most nights even if breakfast was just a plain bagel, and always found someone to talk to in his brother Liu. Then his dad lost his job, or got a new job, or something, and all at once, everything was worse.
“Liu?” he asked one night, a beam of light from a streetlamp outside peeking in through his window and brightening his face. “Are you still awake?”
“Mmfgh,” a voice answered from the corner. “Not really, but what’s up?”
“We’re not gonna move back, are we?”
“What?”
“I kind of thought we’d be going back. Like, to our old house, I mean.” Jeff turned to face the wall.
“Nah. I mean, we sold it already. Someone’s already living in there.” Liu paused, then sighed. “I know what you mean, though. I didn’t really think it’d be like this.”
“I keep having dreams about it. Like, normal dreams, where I’m just cooking or reading or something—”
“You cook?”
“I mean, in my dreams, sure.” Jeff chuckled. “But I’m always doing that stuff at home. In that house, I mean. Then I wake up and I’m here, and the ceiling’s got that gross stain on it, and the bathroom always smells, and the stupid dogs are always barking outside, and…” He grabbed the side of his head and curled into himself, letting his voice trail off. His eyes were starting to sting and his chest was burning. If he was going to cry, he didn’t want Liu to hear it.
“It’s just how it is, man. I really wish I could say something else, but I doubt dad had another choice. He told me this place was dirt cheap.”
“Why couldn’t we have just stayed, then? We already lived somewhere. We owned it.”
“I guess they don’t teach you about mortgages in seventh grade, huh?” Liu shifted to look directly at the back of his brother’s head. “Just trust me. This is the best we can do right now. Things will start to look up soon.”
“Okay.”
“Try to get some rest.”
“Okay.”
Jeffrey laid in bed for hours, his eyes shifting every few minutes between his brother and the ceiling. Just as he finally felt the world start to blur around him, he was jolted awake by a loud rummaging outside their window. The boy lurched out of bed and turned towards Liu, but the thought of waking his brother again filled him with guilt. Jeff lifted a blind to peer outside. The sun hadn’t even risen yet, and there, standing in his front yard, he saw what was making the noise. Another kid, gripping a shovel and forcing it into the ground just outside.
Before he could think, Jeff was dashing to his front door. He was filled with a white hot rage that gripped his ribs and risked exploding out of his chest at any moment. The world started to smear into itself. At some point, the door was thrown open, and Jeff was grabbing the child by the cuff of his shirt.
“What are you doing?” Jeffrey spat out.
The other kid, still wide-eyed, only managed to stammer for a few moments before finally getting out, “Holy shit. Holy shit, someone actually lives here now. That’s hilarious.”
“Yeah, I do, so get the heck away from here.”
“Aww, are you not old enough to say real bad words yet?” The stranger’s face settled into a smirk before pushing Jeff away. Only now did Jeffrey realize the size difference between the two of them. This guy was at least a foot taller, and much wider and more muscular. Jeff noticed the start of a small mustache and a much deeper voice than he was expecting; he was probably closer to Liu’s age than his own. Once he was no longer being grabbed, the teenager wordlessly continued digging into the earth.
“What the… hell are you doing!?” Jeff screamed.
“For Christ’s sake,” the stranger growled, “There’s no way you moved in here without knowing about this place.”
“Huh?”
“You know someone died here, right? Like, right in the house. They just buried him in the yard.”
“Who is ‘they?’” Jeff could barely think straight to ask the question.
“I dunno, just someone. Family friend or something.” He turned to face Jeff. “Anyway, my name’s Troy. I got some other friends who are interested in this place, too. I’d recommend keeping quiet to your folks about it, since, y’know, we’ll be the ones holding the shovels.”
“You’re trying to dig up the body.” His head was pounding. He was sure he meant to ask it as a question, but something told him there was no point. He already knew the answer. Then his hands were around Troy’s throat.
The sound of metal collapsing to the ground as Troy dropped the shovel punctuated the sharp gasp that could have come from either boy. The surprise allowed Jeff’s tiny hands to remain wrapped around the teenager’s neck for a few moments, but both were finally pushed to the ground once they realized what was happening.
“I’ll fucking… I’ll…” was all Troy managed to gasp out before reaching into his shirt pocket and pulling out a small lighter. Jeff’s eyes widened, but Troy just absentmindedly flicked the flame on and off for a few moments before turning his head upwards to look past Jeff.
“Who the hell are you?” asked Liu’s voice from behind his brother.
“Aw, shit. Whatever. Two versus one isn’t fair. But when Randy hears about this, you’re done,” Troy spat out.
“I don’t care,” answered Jeff, still glaring at Troy from the ground.
“Yeah, I’m sure.” Troy raised a middle finger and started to turn away. Jeff hardly noticed, though. He was entranced by the teenager’s other hand. The rhythm of the lighter was slightly slower now, and almost seemed to be perfectly in line with Troy’s labored breathing.
“Sorry I woke you up,” was all Jeff could say once Troy had sprinted away.
“If you hadn’t, you’d probably have your head caved in.”
“Whatever.”
Liu sighed. “I’m just glad school hasn’t started back up for you yet. I think you only got like five hours of sleep.”
Jeff stood up and started to walk inside.
“Hey, are you alright?” Liu reached for his brother’s shoulder. “Who was that guy? You’re not hurt, are you?”
“No. I don’t know. His name was Troy, I think. He said someone’s buried in our yard.”
“Weird.” Liu slapped the back of his brother’s head. “Well, don’t fight dudes who have shovels anymore. We’ll tell mom and dad what happened and let them figure it out.”
Mom and dad. Jeff was always open with his parents, sometimes to the point of derision from his classmates, but the thought of telling them about this made his heart sink. Troy was right. There was no way someone would buy this place without knowing about a body being buried in the front yard. They decided on this house, this old, run-down house with a rotten skeleton somewhere just outside, without even considering the scumbag locals who treat it like their own personal haunted house. And he could have been beaten to a pulp because of it.
Jeff was awake early the next morning—or rather, he never quite fell asleep—and found himself in the yard again. The warm tones painted by the sun all around him almost made him understand why anyone would choose to live here. The towers and skyscrapers that littered the horizon no matter where he looked before had been replaced with vibrant, blue and pink wisps over an impossibly orange backdrop. Trees and houses became dark silhouettes, calling attention to themselves as abstract decorations rather than simple things to be taken for granted. Even the dying grass in the yard was made more appealing by the warm glow cast over it. Once his eyes passed over it, though, the new hole in the dirt was all Jeff could focus on.
He could feel the same burning from the night before start to flare up and become brighter and brighter the longer he stared. Even without moving, his vision started to blur and his hands balled into fists so tight they were shaking. He was interrupted finally by a hand placed softly on his shoulder, and he looked up to see the gentle smile and furrowed brow that could only belong to his mother. He unclenched his hands, a dull pain suddenly jolting through them, and wondered if his fingers might have broken themselves had she not shown up.
“I haven’t seen you up this early in a while,” said Jeff’s mother. Her voice felt like chamomile tea to Jeff, gentle and soothing in a way that never failed to put him at ease. “Is something the matter?”
“No,” he answered as he watched his mother’s eyes flick towards the hole in their yard, “I just wanted to be outside.”
“It certainly feels much nicer out here than at our old place.” She paused and examined her son’s face for a reaction. “You know. Not too much noise. Except the birds, of course, but that’s always nicer than car horns.”
“Yeah. I like the animals.”
“I’m glad.”
“I kind of wish we had a fence, though.” Jeff pointed across the street, where a small child in an equally-small cowboy hat was running towards them. He thought about what would have happened to this kid at his old home. He only ever remembered children being gripped by the hand or riding on an adult’s shoulders.
“Billy! Goodness gracious! Billy!” a woman’s voice called only after the young child had nearly charged into Jeff.
“Hey, Billy.” Jeff waved awkwardly with just his fingers, the same way he had seen adults greet other toddlers.
“Hi!” Billy yelled, raising his fake pistol towards Jeff and shouting “Bang!”
“Did you just kill me right after we met?” Jeff chuckled.
“Billy! You can’t just run off like that. You don’t know these people,” the woman scolded after reaching Jeff’s yard herself. She turned her attention to Jeff’s mom and continued, “I’m so sorry! He likes to be outside so early, but it’s so hard to keep track of him.”
“It’s alright,” answered Jeff’s mother, still smiling. “I know how it can be. We were afraid of losing this one any time we went to the grocery store.”
“Ah! It’s so nice to see a family finally move into this place. I didn’t think anyone—” the woman’s face reddened and she cut herself off. “Anyway, I’m sorry I never got to introduce myself. My name is Barbara.”
“Margaret.” The two women shook hands. “And it’s not all on you. My husband’s usually working, and I’ve been getting ready for school to start back up—ah, I’m a teacher—so we never even thought to say hello. It’s nice to meet some of our neighbors.”
“Oh, um, I hope it isn’t too forward, but if you wanted to meet everyone, we’re having a get-together soon. I guess you could call it a party, but very tasteful. Very tasteful.” Barbara turned to Jeff but continued to speak to his mother, “There will be a kid’s section too. We have lots of board games and food so they can all get to know each other.”
“That sounds lovely! Hold on, let me text Peter the details…”
Jeff, at this point, figured that the conversation didn’t need his input and let himself zone out. He occasionally turned his attention to Billy, who never once broke eye contact. Mostly, though, he tried to look anywhere except at his neighbors’ home. By now, the sun was no longer darkening it, and Jeff could see again just how nice it was. It was clean, somehow always looking freshly-painted, and it had a driveway, green grass, a small garden surrounding it, even a fence. Chain link, sure, but that just meant it was easier to see how much better it all was than his own house. If he looked away from that home, though, he would just see an endless array of others like it. Blue shutters, actual back yards, lawns big enough to decorate. The worst part was that he could feel all of it. That blinding anger from before, that mind-numbing, searing pain, refused to enter his body, refused to muddy his thoughts. He was mad, yes, and sad, and too many other things to count, but he could feel his feet planted firmly in his shoes and the awkward string hanging from his shorts that always tickled his leg and the way his t-shirt fell on his forearm and the tickle in his nose from the pollen in the air and the stinging in his eyes as tears started to well up behind them and crap, crap, crap, he was going to start crying. His mom was just trying to make a friend and he was going to start crying and ruin it and make it awkward for everyone and make sure even this stupid kindergartener would laugh at him and never want to be his friend, and all he could say was “Bathroom,” before dashing inside, praying that Barbara didn’t see him and still wanted to talk to his mom and hoping, wishing that he would learn to live with it. Liu, Liu, Liu, where was Liu? Where was someone he could talk to? Why wasn’t Liu in the house? Did Liu already have friends? Was Liu doing this the right way?
“Jeff?” his mother’s voice interrupted his thoughts again from his bedroom doorway. “Is it alright if I come in?”
Jeff, curled up and covering his face with his knees, nodded awkwardly from the corner of his bed.
“You don’t have to go to the party,” Jeff’s mom said. “It’s just across the street, so it’s okay if you stay here. I just thought it would be… good for you to make some new friends here. Before school starts back up for you.”
“I do want to go,” Jeff barely managed to stammer out.
“Well then what’s wrong, sweetie? Are you feeling sick?” She started to rub her son’s back.
“No. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
“Jeff, honey, you don’t need to be sorry.”
“Where is Liu?”
“It’s your brother’s first day back to school, sweetie. He left a few minutes ago. I thought you saw him.”
“Why?” It was all Jeff could say before his throat closed again.
“He’s in that early college program, remember? It starts a lot sooner here than the other schools.”
“Okay.” Jeff finally let his body relax and his knees fall. “I think I just need to sleep.”
“Okay,” she answered softly, as if her son was already drifting off. “Do you want me to tell Liu to wake you up when he gets home?”
“Yes please.”
As soon as his head hit his pillow, the world began to fade away.
And a new world began to take shape.
A house, the same house, but not the same house,
and a bed, not the same bed, but in the same spot,
and a doorway,
an open doorway, leading to the hallway, leading to the bathroom,
the only bathroom in the house,
the house meant for one person and one guest,
an old man,
an old man whose face appears in the mirror,
an old man who is there in place of Jeff.
Jeff, Jeff, Jeff, he calls to himself,
as he reaches out from the mirror and grabs his shoulder,
why are you abandoning me,
our rage,
yourself?
They’re right,
we’re buried,
I’m buried,
you’re buried
in the front yard,
you explain, as I grip you tighter,
as I pull us closer,
to tell us how I died
of a heart attack, at just fifty years old,
furious, and screaming, and spitting,
at that bastard Troy,
and his little gaggle of children,
Keith and Randy,
because they hated my home,
my beautiful home,
my beautiful home,
my beautiful home,
that you should love too,
that they desecrated
with eggs, and toiletries, and shit,
my beautiful home,
where I could have rested forever,
but that I died next to,
that he buried us next to,
that he wishes to rip our body from again,
so that the new residents,
the Woods family,
might never know,
so that we may never rest,
so that our eyelids remain open always,
so that we may never again go to sleep.
Why did nobody come looking for us, you ask,
why were we left to rot in silence?
I ask this too.
Now, as we pull us closer,
as the glass begins to shatter between us,
allow it to cut us into pieces,
so that our blood may overlap
and become one.
Jeff’s eyes snapped open, and he shot upright. His entire body was drenched in sweat. All he could think to do was rush to the bathroom and stare into the mirror. His face was still his own. His hair, though greasier than it ever had been, was still the same shade of black as before. All he could think to do was take a walk.
He had nightmares before, but they never stuck with him like this. He would have already forgotten the specifics of any other dream, but this was like a memory. He was certain that the bathroom mirror should have been cracked. Troy killed someone. He actually killed someone. Jeff touched his cheeks for any sign of cuts or scarring, and he couldn’t understand why nothing was there. It wasn’t even his face, he told himself, but it had to have been. He was cut open. The mirror shattered. He was in his home. The more thoughts he had, the faster his legs moved. He wasn’t sure if it was helping, exactly, but it did feel like the longer he walked, the clearer his head was. Someone was buried near the house. Someone who should have been inside of it. There was no way Troy actually had the guts to kill anyone. He was a jerk, but that’s all he was. Even if the dream meant anything, nobody could blame anything on Troy except vandalism.
Jeff’s train of thought was interrupted suddenly by the end of his street. He didn’t know how long he had been walking, but he didn’t remember ever seeing this turn or this part of town. When he looked around, he realized that his house was not the black sheep of the street that he had thought it was. He was surrounded by trailers, with old furniture and a few dead raccoons scattered across the curb. A kid around Billy’s age was jumping on a busted recliner that had been left in someone’s yard, and Jeff’s eyes began to search for any parents. What they landed on, though, was Troy, just across the street.
Troy was whispering something to two kids much younger than himself, around Jeff’s age, in front of a particularly beaten-down trailer. Jeff felt a prickle inside him, a suggestion that the same burning feeling as before might return, but it was so far away he quickly forgot it. He just watched Troy, and he found himself fascinated. This was the kind of company that the big, bad Troy kept? A bunch of little kids? Was he mocking Jeff’s house while he lived on this side of the neighborhood? Naturally, one of the younger children eventually looked up and noticed Jeff staring at him. Fear gripped Jeff’s chest. He surprised Troy before, but now Liu was nowhere in sight and there were two other kids to worry about. To Jeff’s relief, though, when Troy looked up towards him, the teenager simply whispered something to one of the younger boys and gestured them inside the trailer. Something told Jeff to confront the boys, to dash across the street and bang on their door and not let up until his hand was around one of their throats again, but he just sighed and started the trek back to his house.
At several points on the walk back, Jeffrey found himself grinding his teeth and clenching his jaw. Sometimes he would stop in his tracks and consider turning around, staring back at where he now knew Troy lived. Finally, though, a voice interrupted these thoughts.
“Jeffrey? Jeffrey! Where have you been?”
Jeff didn’t need to turn his head to know who it was. Only one person called him Jeffrey.
“Hi, dad,” Jeff said, stuck in place.
“Jeffrey, you can’t just wander off like that. You’re old enough to know better.”
“I guess so.”
Jeff’s dad hesitated before speaking, something Jeff had never heard from him before. “Let’s just head back. We can talk and walk.”
“Alright.” Jeff finally turned to look at his dad, who promptly embraced him.
After a few minutes of walking, Jeff’s father finally said, “Usually we would have to punish you for this. I really don’t want you to think it’s okay to walk off without telling anyone. Especially if you’re going to that part of the neighborhood.”
“I didn’t know ‘that part’ of the neighborhood was a thing,” Jeff answered flatly.
“I know, I know. And maybe it isn’t fair for me to judge, considering we’re in the haunted house of the street.”
“Is it haunted?” Jeff perked up.
“No, no, it’s just an exaggeration. Don’t start any rumors. People talk, you know.” He sighed. “Anyway, we’re not going to ground you this time. I know making such a big move is hard at this age. You’re probably just trying to explore. Or you’re acting out. I don’t know. Maybe we can try therapy or something.”
“Did you ever have to move when you were little?” Jeff asked, trying to shift his father’s focus back to the house.
“No, not really. The place kind of changed around us. I was in a nice town that they decided needed about ten more gas stations for some reason. People started renting vacation homes and getting mad that our place still looked like it did. I always got mad at my parents for never ‘modernizing,’ whatever that meant. I think I heard a friend’s parents use the word when we were playing and I just kept repeating it.”
“I don’t think I get it.”
“The point is, I was hurt for the same reasons I think you’re hurt. Everything around me just seemed better than what I had. I was comfortable until I saw how much ‘better’ money could make things, then I started lashing out. It wasn’t right, though. My parents lived there for years before I was even born. No wonder they didn’t wanna change things around just to be like everything else.”
“We just moved, though. We don’t have to keep the house how it is just because it was that way before. It might have been a lot prettier before anyway.” Jeff wasn’t sure why he said it. It wasn’t something he even particularly cared about, or that he agreed with. As soon as the words came out of his mouth, though, he felt the fire inside of him start to melt him. It hadn’t hurt him before. It always felt like, somehow, even though it didn’t belong to him, it was willing to work with him. Now, though, it was like he had swallowed magma. It filled his heart, and he could feel the searing pain pumping through his veins and tearing away at his skin. Fortunately, his father quickly responded,
“Yeah, I guess I get your point. I doubt the paint was peeling when the last guy was living there.” He brought his hand to his chin. “Your mom isn’t super happy with how other people are looking at us either. She was really embarrassed when she talked to Barbara. It won’t ever look like the other houses on the street, but we can see what we can afford.”
All at once, the burning was exactly where it was supposed to be. Jeff’s vision blurred, the world turned to mush around him, and he knew it was right. The pounding in his head got harder and faster with every step he took towards his house. He found himself lagging just behind his dad, then closer, then with his hand outstretched towards the man’s head. He told it—whatever it was—to stop. He was sure it could hear him even if he didn’t say it out loud, because it started to sting. When he could, he made sure he was in front of his dad, even walking far enough ahead to hear “Hey, slow down, bud,” more than once.
He did everything he could until he was in his front yard, and he realized his brother and his mother were both hugging him.
“Jesus, dude, you scared the shit out of us,” said Liu.
“Liu!” yelled their mother, pulling away from the embrace.
“Well, he did,” replied Liu, now also breaking the hug to face his mom.
“I’m sorry,” said Jeff.
“It’s okay. Just stop doing this sh—stuff.” Liu started to mess up his brother’s hair, but yanked his hand back. “Oh, man. You need a shower.”
“I just wanted to take a walk. I didn’t realize how far I went,” Jeff said, facing his mother.
“Baby, you were gone for more than an hour. You’re too young to—”
“Don’t worry. I talked to him about it already.” Jeff’s dad said, directing a wink at his son.
“Alright,” she answered with a sigh, starting to move towards the door, “if everything is okay, I still have some work that needs to be done tonight.”
“Man, this feels like the first time in a while we’ve all been awake and in the same place.” Jeff’s dad seemed to be talking to nobody in particular again before turning to his kids. “Hey Jeffrey, how about I see if I can take a day off soon and take us all to that buffet you really like. I think they have a location near here. Shrimpy’s, right?”
“I’d like that,” Jeff responded, a memory flashing in his mind of the four of them sitting and laughing at their old dinner table. He didn’t mention that he hadn’t really liked Shrimpy’s Buffet for a while now. His dad smiled and headed inside, leaving only the two brothers on the porch.
After a long silence, Jeff said, “Liu. I’m really scared.”
“Scared of what?” Liu asked.
“I’ve been getting really angry lately.”
“I think you’re just getting stressed out. A lot of stuff has been happening.”
“No, like, really, really angry. It doesn’t even feel like it’s me. I can barely think straight sometimes. Like when that dude was digging around in our yard, before you came outside…” Jeff trailed off.
“He was trying to hurt you, right? Obviously you’d get an adrenaline rush—”
“No. He hadn’t actually done anything yet. He just told me to go inside, and I just lost it. I was choking him. If I was bigger, I wouldn’t have let go. He pushed me off, but I know I would have just grabbed him and not stopped.”
“Huh.” That was all Liu said. Huh. He closed his eyes and looked like he was thinking for what felt like an impossibly long stretch of time.
“Liu, please say something.” Jeff finally choked out.
“I dunno what to say, really. That’s obviously pretty scary, but I think we just gotta focus on where we’re at now. Nobody’s actually hurt. You probably knew you wouldn’t be able to do that much damage to him. And, like, he was trespassing and just generally being a dick. It’s not like I think you’d hurt me because of it or anything.”
Jeff leaned against his brother, tears stinging his eyes once more, and said “I don’t want to hurt you. I love you.”
“Ugh, you’re covered in sweat.” Liu hugged his brother. “But I love you too.”
The two wordlessly stood up to join their parents inside, but just as Jeff’s hand touched the door knob, a high-pitched voice behind him yelled,
“Well, well, well! Looks like we got some fresh meat.”
“What?” answered Liu. “Who are you? Why are you talking like that?”
“The name’s Randy. I’d suggest you learn it.” Randy mimed spitting off to his side, but nothing actually came out of his mouth.
Jeff’s eyes widened as he heard the name and realized this was one of the kids he had seen Troy whispering to. He didn’t even get a chance to speak, though, before Liu blurted out,
“Oh my god, wait, Randy? You’re the guy that douchebag was talking about?” Both brothers started laughing. “You’re like three inches tall, dude. How did you get that guy scared enough to use you as a threat?”
Randy’s face turned a bright pink, and he screamed “Listen, punks! Troy answers to me, and—”
“Holy crap, he does? I was actually scared of him!” Jeff yelled through his laughter.
Randy growled, tears starting to well up in his eyes, “Whatever! At least I’m not going to the baby party!”
“Stop, stop, please. This is hurting me. Holy shit,” replied Liu, bent over and holding his stomach.
“You’re gonna feel so stupid at that party. We have something big planned.” Randy stomped his feet.
“Doesn’t that mean you’ll be at the baby party too?” Jeff asked, his laughter finally subsiding.
Randy stammered for a few minutes before screaming and running off.
“Oh god. I really needed that,” said Liu, wiping a tear away from his eyes. “Imagine the gangs that guy would be a part of. A bunch of toddlers trying to snap their fingers in unison, but none of them have even learned how yet.”
“And Troy,” Jeff interjected.
“And Troy!” Liu threw his head back and laughed again. “Just a sea of babies and this one six foot muscle dickhead who’s scared of all of them.”
Jeff chuckled at the thought.
“Alright man. Let’s head inside before a two-year-old slices our ankles or something,” Liu wheezed out, opening the front door.
Days passed after that night without incident. Shrimpy’s never came, but Jeff felt like he got to see everyone a lot more often. Or maybe he just got used to seeing them less. He enjoyed sitting in silence with Liu while the latter did homework, and he started to help his parents with dishes without being asked. It wasn’t like before, but it was serviceable. He had all but forgotten about the party until the day it arrived. Somehow, Jeff’s mother had coordinated a date when all members of the family were free. His father was off work, and Liu didn’t even have much homework to worry about. It seemed like things were almost destined to start looking up.
When he saw his parents—and even his brother—dressing up, though, he started to feel self conscious. He had only ever been to birthday parties before, so he hadn’t even thought to do laundry the night before.
Liu seemed to notice Jeff staring at his side of the closet while he was buttoning his shirt and said “You know you don’t have to dress up, right? Nobody is gonna expect a twelve-year-old to have a suit.”
Jeff just looked backed at him.
“God, you look pitiful.” Liu started to rummage through the back of the closet.
“What are you looking for?”
“Hold on.” Liu leaned farther in and the shuffling noise grew in volume until he finally said, “Oh, Hell yeah. I knew it would be good to keep this.” He pulled his entire body from the closet and shoved a box towards his brother.
“What is it?” Jeff asked, taking the container.
“It’s some old outfits I wore when I was in orchestra. They made us dress up to do the concerts. At least one of them should be your size.”
Jeff took the top off of the box, and sure enough, it was full of old button-up shirts and dress pants. He didn’t remember Liu ever wearing something like this. He quickly found an outfit that fit him.
“I’m gonna go to the bathroom to change,” he said, already walking into the hallway.
“Oh, Jeff, are you going to dress up too?” His mother, padding her face with something in the mirror, sounded overjoyed.
Jeff didn’t get to answer before his mom ran out of the room and closed the door behind her. He turned to the mirror and stared at himself. Glass still unshattered, his face still without injury. He brought his hand up slowly, wondering if his reflection would once again lurch out towards him.
His reflection. Why did he keep calling it that? It wasn’t his. He closed his eyes, and the face took place of his own. It wasn’t his, but somehow it belonged to him.
He never saw the appeal to dressy clothes, but once he had changed he couldn’t help but smile. He began to consider the idea that it was because he recognized a little bit less of himself in the mirror, but it was interrupted by a knock on the door.
The entire household had shoved themselves into the hallway just outside the bathroom in wait of Jeff. As soon as he walked out, the building filled with a cacophony of cooing and clapping.
“Well, y’know,” he looked off to his side, blushing.
“Hey man, you pull that shirt off way better than I did,” Liu said, punching his brother in the shoulder.
“I really thought I’d never see you wearing anything except those big hoodies. I feel like I’m seeing something I’m not supposed to here,” joked his dad.
His mother just smiled and continued to clap lightly before rushing back into the restroom and continuing to adjust her face.
“You feeling okay? Nervous about anything?” Liu asked after the two brothers walked to the front door.
“I just don’t really know who I’m going to hang out with,” Jeff said, leaning against the wall.
“I’m sure there’ll be someone your age there.”
“What about you? Are you gonna hang out with the kids or the adults?”
“It’s like you’re reading my mind, man. I’ve been thinking about that for the past week. I have no clue. It’s not like there’s gonna be a ‘teenager who feels sort of like an adult but isn’t really an adult’ section.”
“Oh, sorry. Maybe you can hang out with Troy. I’m sure his ‘big plans’ are just bringing you a cake or something.”
Liu laughed. “Oh, jeez, I forgot about those guys. You think they’ll actually show up?”
“I don’t know. If we forgot about it, they probably did too.”
“I mean, how much trouble could an infant militia really cause anyway?”
“I think enough babies could cause a lot of trouble, actually.” Jeff smiled.
“Yeah, I guess that’s a good point.”
“Boys,” their dad’s voice emerged from behind them, “it’s time. Time to be real, functioning adults. Adults who go to dinner parties.”
“Does that include me?” Jeff asked, pointing at himself.
“I don’t know. I didn’t really think about the joke that much. But sure, you can do the taxes this year.”
Jeff’s mother entered the room last. She was wearing makeup that Jeff didn’t even know she owned. Something about the way it smoothed her face out made him uncomfortable. She had no wrinkles, no noticeable laugh lines, and had even covered the freckles on her nose. Worst of all was that it looked almost natural, like she had actually managed to age for years while keeping perfectly smooth skin.
“Is everyone ready?” she asked, putting her hands together and grinning. As soon as he saw that genuine, toothy smile, he pushed away any thoughts he had about what was on her face. He hadn’t seen her this happy in months.
“I’m really glad we all get to be together today.” They were Jeff’s thoughts, but they came out of Liu’s mouth.
“Me too. It’s going to be such a good day,” Jeff’s mother responded.
“Let’s go, then,” Jeff’s dad said, opening the door.
The party was already in full swing, or as close as a grownup party can get to being in full swing, by the time Jeff’s family arrived. Adults had formed their own miniature cliques and were standing around talking about nothing, and a few kids were scattered around throughout the house. After his family said hello to Barbara, he watched as his dad tried to introduce himself to a group of men in suits and awkwardly excuse himself when they started to joke about hating their wives. Jeff’s mom just found herself standing alone in a corner, glancing around for anyone that might be free. Finally, though, Barbara’s husband invited them over to the space that acted as the kitchen.
“Oh, Richard, you’re not showing them that stupid drink set, are you?” came Barbara’s voice from somewhere behind Jeff.
“What? No, look, it’s cool. Now, you can technically just use a lighter and a cup, but it’s all about the presentation. I use the really heavy stuff, too, so don’t drink too fast. There are some really cool videos…” Richard’s voice became lost in the noise as Jeff started to look for Liu. He eventually found his brother was already leaning against the wall and talking to a girl that couldn’t seem to stop giggling. Ugh. He had almost been allowed to forget that his brother had game. When the two made eye contact, Jeff stuck his tongue out at Liu from across the room.
“Oh, Josh! Some of the kids were being too rowdy, so we moved the children’s section outside.” Barbara was suddenly standing right in front of Jeff, but it still took him a moment to realize she was talking to him.
“Oh, um, thanks for letting me know,” Jeff answered sheepishly before making his way to the open back door.
The kid’s section, as Jeff expected, was full of children much younger than him screaming and running into each other. Even at thirteen, Jeff shuddered to think about the impact that the rough play might have on his bones. He scanned the yard again, desperately searching for anyone who looked to be within even a few years of his age. Immediately, though, he felt a tugging at the thigh of his pants. He looked down to see Billy staring up at him, still wearing his cowboy hat, but not saying anything.
“Hey. Are you gonna shoot me again?” Jeff asked.
“No not yet,” Billy answered and presented Jeff with a small, fake gun.
“Oh, cool.” Jeff took the toy. He didn’t expect to have much fun, but it would be a nice distraction. As time went on, though, he found himself strangely invested in the world Billy lived in. He had almost forgotten what it was like to be so young. Telling insane lies as if they’re just stories, talking about absolutely nothing, even finding fun in an unmoving chunk of plastic. It wasn’t the same experience as talking to his old classmates, but, Jeff realized, it must be how Liu felt playing video games with him. When Billy insisted that he was secretly a space alien, Jeff couldn’t help but smile.
Then, from behind the boys, came the awful noise of metal shaking and slamming into itself. Before Jeff could turn around to process what was happening, Troy had nearly scaled the entire fence. Randy and the skinny kid from the trailer park were behind him, struggling to do the same.
“Hey, dipshit,” Troy yelled after awkwardly half-falling over the fence. Most of the kids quickly vanished into the house. Jeff glanced towards the door, hoping the screaming children would cause enough of a ruckus for an adult to intervene. He couldn’t make himself leave, though. The rage welling up inside him seemed to be sprouting from the ground and wrapping around his feet.
“Do you not have anyone your own age you can hang out with?” Jeff said dryly.
“You’re one to talk,” Troy spat back. “That hat looks fucking stupid on you, by the way.”
“I disagree,” Jeff answered.
“God, you really don’t get the position you’re in.” Troy seemed almost giddy, his voice raising at the end and tinged with laughter. He yanked the bag off of the thin kid’s shoulders and started to unzip it.
“Okay. I get Randy is your boss, but who is—”
“Shut up!” Troy screamed, letting the bag drop to the ground. In that moment, everything became so quiet that it seemed a miracle the Earth itself couldn’t be heard spinning on its axis. It must have stilled in anticipation of what was to come next. There, in Troy’s hand, was a pistol. And it was pointed directly at Jeff.
What finally broke the silence was not a gunshot. It was not a scream of terror. It was not a shuffling of fists, nor was it a dramatic sting, nor was it any other number of violent noises that Jeff expected. No, the noise which shattered the stillness, the stillness that served as the only promise of Jeff’s safety, was the soft shuffling of grass next to him. Billy? No. Billy had definitely run inside. But Jeff didn’t dare turn his head before saying,
“Troy—”
“See this? See this, fucker? Your shithead brother can’t protect you from this. Even your stupid fucking dad can’t get you out of this one,” Troy continued to scream, looking just off to Jeff’s side.
No. No, no, no, no, no.
“Okay, so your name is Troy?” answered the voice of Jeff’s dad.
“I didn’t say either of you could fucking talk,” snapped Troy.
“If you came here intending to kill someone, I’m sure you would have done it by now. I don’t think it’s what you want to do.” Jeff’s dad said, his voice betraying no fear.
“What the fuck do you know? Did your shithead son even tell you he tried to strangle me?” Troy answered. A vein was protruding out of his forehead, and his hands were shaking and drenched in sweat.
“Troy, have you ever held a gun? Do you know you shouldn’t keep your finger over the trigger like that unless you’re ready to fire? Where did someone your age even get a weapon like that?” Jeff’s father was speaking gently.
“It’s mine!” proudly exclaimed Randy. “I know where my dad keeps it in the closet when he’s not home.”
“I see. Are you related, or do you all just live nearby?”
“M-me and Troy are b-brothers.” This was the first time Jeff heard the thin kid speak. The child held his hands in the air as if he was the one being held at gunpoint, and now that he had drawn attention to himself, it was obvious that his entire body was trembling. Troy’s face seemed to soften as soon as he heard the stammer in his brother’s voice.
“You don’t have to answer him,” Troy replied, the first thing he had said without yelling.
Jeff’s dad began speaking as softly as he could. “I see. I’m no therapist, but I know a scared child when I see one. Whatever you need, I’m sure we can—”
“Stop. Stop fucking talking like you know me.” Troy was no longer screaming, and Jeff could hear a tremble creeping into his voice.
The thin kid’s breathing was audible now, and neither Jeff nor his dad could tear their attention away from it for long enough to speak. He mumbled something under his breath then darted towards the back door, knocking into Jeff’s dad and causing a glass of something to fall out of his hands and onto Jeff.
“Keith!” shouted Troy, briefly reaching his hand towards his brother.
Keith?
“Haha!” Randy pointed at Jeff. “Now you’re crying and you’re all wet! You look like such an idiot!”
Did he say Keith?
“Troy,” Jeff finally managed to choke out, “you either need to make a move or put the gun down.”
Something new filled Jeff. Just like before, it wasn’t his. But it wasn’t rage.
“My son is right,” Jeff’s dad stammered out. “Cops have likely already been called. They’re going to show up whether you shoot someone or not. You can either meet them as a murderer or as a thrill-seeking teen.”
Jeff’s vision blurred and the world seemed to turn into an ocean around him.
“No. I’m already here.”
He was drowning.
“What is your goal, here? Is there something you want from my son?”
Fear.
“I can’t fucking tell you that. Fuck. Fuck. You’re right. Cops are coming. Fuck. I’m—”
A gunshot.
Two screams.
Suffocating him.
Jeff touched his chest. It was intact. Neither of the yells were his own. His dad fell next to him, swearing loudly, gripping his leg. Randy’s eyes were wide. So were Troy’s. The latter was lifting his finger off of the gun’s trigger. His mouth was hanging open. The second scream was definitely Troy’s. He didn’t speak for a long time. The world filled Jeff’s lungs and became a dark, tarry liquid. Then it caught fire inside of him.
“Y-yeah. S-see what happens?” Troy’s voice was rising after every word. Without thinking, he grabbed the lighter from his pocket and began to flick it. “S-so you better start listening to—"
“What do you want?” Jeff snarled.
“I—”
“Do you want the corpse you buried in my yard?”
Troy stared at Jeff.
“The old man you killed? You don’t want anyone to know about it, right? What are you going to do if I’m dead? Are you going to finish off my dad? My mom? My brother? You don’t think anyone will investigate why you picked off our family one by one? Nobody will have anything to say about that house?”
“Wh—how the fuck—”
“You got lucky once, Troy. You accidentally killed a man without any friends or family. You’re not a criminal mastermind. You didn’t even think it through before you had some little kid steal a gun for you.”
“Shut up.”
“No.”
“You knew the whole fucking time?”
“Sort of.”
“Shut up. Shut up. I just need to think.”
“Tick-tock, Troy.”
“Oh my god, shut the fuck up. Fuck. Fuck. I just need to think. I just need to fucking think. Randy, go home.” Troy began to eye Jeff’s barely-conscious dad. “Fuck. Okay. Go inside.”
Troy led Jeff to the back door. Some guests were still inside, cowering behind furniture and holding umbrellas or lamps as makeshift weapons. When Jeff spotted his mom starting to reach for him, he said,
“Don’t. This moron’s got the only gun. Dad needs help outside.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Troy spat out as Jeff’s mom was running past him.
“I already said no.”
“Just go the fuck upstairs.”
There were two rooms on the second floor, probably a bathroom and a bedroom. It didn’t matter, though. Troy’s strained efforts to open both were met with muffled murmurs from the other side and the resistance of a locked door. Jeff wondered if Liu’s voice was in the collection.
“Fuck. Fine. We’re going to your shitty house.” Troy violently shoved his finger downstairs towards the front door.
The walk was slow and labored. Troy was shaking, trying desperately to ignore the yells and gasping as he walked past people and tried not to trip over those that were curled up on the ground. Jeff had to awkwardly glance behind himself a few times to make sure his captor could catch up. Eventually, though, the two made it across the street and into Jeff’s front yard.
“Did you bring a shovel?” Jeff asked.
“No. No I didn’t bring a fucking shovel.” Troy began to flick his lighter faster.
“Then what are you going to do?”
“I don’t fucking know. Just let me think. For fuck’s sake.”
Jeff turned to look at Troy, drenched in sweat and barely able to keep his gun pointed at its target. He kept his finger off of the trigger now, but he kept trying to bring his hand up to his head to think, only seeming to remember that he was holding a weapon once he felt the metal on his skin. As Jeff watched this, he couldn’t help but grimace. He was having his life threatened by an absolute meathead. A teenager five years older than him who was barely even half as smart. Troy’s planning started and stopped at getting a gun, something that he couldn’t even do without the help of a ten-year-old. Yet, in this clown’s stupidity, he managed to nearly kill Jeff’s dad, take away the day that Jeff’s mother seemed happier than ever, and worst of all, separated Jeffrey from his family.
Jeff felt his own anger start to boil up inside of him as he watched Troy begin to pace back and forth, wasting even more time. The thought of this idiot not even understanding his own goal before police showed up and put a bullet in his brain carbonated Jeff’s veins. He finally understood what the blistering feeling deep within him was trying to offer, and suddenly, his emotions mixed perfectly with it. The scorching hot light that wasn’t his swirled together with the red-hot blood that came from his own heart. The new compound filled his body, and he lunged for Troy.
Just like before, Troy’s weapon fell to the ground. Jeff’s hands, only half his own, gripped the boy’s throat and refused to let go. Troy tried immediately to use his now-free hand to push his attacker away, but his barrages only served to tighten Jeff’s fingers around his neck. Troy’s second punch, though, came from the hand holding a lighter.
Burning alive didn’t feel how Jeff thought it would. All he saw for his last moment of consciousness was a blinding glow of red and yellow. For a moment, as the flames touched only the alcohol that still covered him, he felt nothing. Then, strangely, it was cold, as if he had just been standing in front of an open freezer. He had hope, however brief, that he was somehow wrong about what he already knew was happening. That the liquid coating him would fall from his face and that the flames would go with it. But finally, all at once, it felt how it was supposed to. That is the only way he could find appropriate to describe it; as being immolated is supposed to feel. Any other words could never do justice to the pain of his skin falling from his face, the realization that he was still awake as he was liquefying. This was his last thought before the world went black.
“…sorry…don’t know…can do”
“never see…bad…”
“please…brother”
“please…please…”
“all…doing…and money”
“funeral…”
The voices of his family. His mother. Arguing with a doctor about whether he should be kept alive. He smiled under the bandages, and feeling that it was his own smile, he smiled even brighter. How long did it take him to actually die? How long had they been keeping him here, trying to figure out what to do with their little corpse? It must have gotten to his brain. Most of the alcohol was splashed on his head. Or maybe Troy realized he was in too deep and actually shot him. Who knew? Who cared? He was here now.
“I’m awake.” It sounded like his voice. He heard someone jump backwards, but he couldn’t see who. They might have cut holes in the dressing, but his eyes were in the wrong spot for them. Frustrating. He reached to tear the fabric away from his face, but his right arm was in a cast as well. “Can you please get these fucking bandages off of me?”
“But, that doesn’t…” It must have been a doctor who was stuttering, messing with something next to his head.
“Jeff? Jeff, are you okay, baby? Are you hurting?” This one was definitely Margaret, his mother.
“No, no pain anymore,” he answered.
“Oh baby, I was so scared that—” Margaret started to say before the doctor interrupted her.
“Son, you’re supposed to be under anesthesia right now. I mean, it’s still pumping into you. You should not be awake.” The doctor was frantically flipping through something. “This doesn’t… I mean, none of this…”
“Just spit it out,” he said, unable to hide the glee in his voice.
“I don’t know how, but your vitals are saying you’re dead. Sometimes we get errors with the machines, but for all of them at once to just stop… it doesn’t make sense. And I can see the anesthesia. I’ve never seen something like this.”
“If I’m ready to go home, what can you do about it?” he asked.
“What? You can’t go home. As a medical doctor, it’s my duty to—”
“If you took all of this shit out, I could be walking around, probably even dancing.”
A long pause. The silence in the room was thick.
Finally, the doctor answered, “Technically, if we keep you here for a while without issue, you can be moved out of the ICU.” He hesitated again. “From there, if your parents sign off on it, I believe you are free to go home whenever you see fit.”
“Oh, that’s such good news! Did you hear that, baby? Just a few more days. Your dad is going to be so sad he missed this.”
“Ma’am, I need to make it explicitly clear that I don’t think this is a good idea. I have no idea what to make of the fact that your son is even awake right now. Not to mention his vitals. I don’t know if a condition like this has ever been recorded—”
“So, what? You’re just going to keep him here forever to run tests on him? He’s your next research paper? He wants to go back. We want him to come back,” his mother snapped.
“Regardless, it’s a few more weeks, not a few more days,” the doctor sighed, “and if you’re really going to bring him home, the outpatient care will be arduous. Sometimes managing burns this intense lasts for years. You or your son will have to learn how to change his bandages yourself.” Finally, he left the room.
“Just a little bit longer, baby. It will just be a little bit longer.” Margaret’s hands rested on her son’s leg.
“What did his face look like?” he asked.
“The doctor’s?”
“Your son’s.”
“Oh… I’m not sure what it will look like after the bandages come off, baby. Don’t expect it to be the same as before. They had to graft a lot of skin.”
“What about before the surgeons?”
“Hm?”
“What did it look like when the flames were first extinguished?”
“Oh, Jeff, darling, I don’t want to think about that right now.”
“It was awful, right?”
“Yes. It was awful. There wasn’t…” She trailed off and was silent for a while before continuing, “There wasn’t much face left to look like anything. But it’s okay. We’ll figure it out. I’m just glad you’re still here.”
He grinned again. Perfect, he thought. So easily reshaped. He must have looked terrific under his dressing. The grafted skin was an annoyance, of course, but he was sure it couldn’t have gotten in the way of his hard work.
“What happened to Troy?” he asked suddenly, his smile wavering slightly.
“Oh, that—that little—” She seemed to choke on her own words. Her voice shook and her fists clenched tighter, tighter, forcing her fingernails into her palms, until she finally sighed and managed to continue speaking. “Nothing, yet. Police said we had a solid case, but it was hard to focus on anything they were saying. We just wanted to make sure you were safe first.”
“Don’t.”
“Don’t?”
“Don’t bother pressing charges. That idiot didn’t even know what he was doing. He’ll get what’s coming to him soon.”
“Jeff, that’s… I mean, that’s very compassionate. This is serious, though. He shot your father. He almost killed you. I wouldn’t be surprised if an investigation has already started.”
His smile grew a little wider under the bandages. He had been around long enough to know that cops were useless; if his family wasn’t pushing it, if they didn’t know anyone on the inside, this “investigation” wouldn’t go anywhere. At least not very quickly. Troy would be exactly where he needed to be. Still, he reached out towards his mother until he felt her hands grabbing his own, and he said,
“For me. Leave it alone.”
Margaret hesitated. “I’ll do what I can.”
Eventually, she left. Day after day went by, his mother and Liu coming in to say hello and to cry and to hug him against the doctor’s wishes. Eventually, even his father could visit; he could always tell who it was immediately from the clattering of the man’s crutches and stifled grunts of pain. All three were never allowed in the room at the same time, but the different pairs kept things somewhat exciting. Would he get his brother and mother this time? Or just his parents? Guys’ night with his brother and father? He never allowed them in while his bandages were being changed, though. He wanted genuine reactions when the time came, not those that his family had time to discuss with one another and prepare for.
Nurses of varying shapes and sizes came and left every few hours, their glances passing anxiously between the IV still under his skin and the readings on the screen next to him. They must have read the surgeon’s notes, though, or been personally warned about him, because none of them asked questions before unwrapping and rewrapping his face. Even as they saw what was underneath the dressing, they did their best not to react. He smiled each and every time, though, when they failed to conceal their sharp breaths inwards the moment too much of him was visible. In the sea of faceless nurses traveling in and out of his room, he only saw the surgeon once, again trying to convince him to stay and warning him that the medicine and anesthesia might be dulling his pain. He just laughed and asked the doctor what pain he could possibly be feeling if he was meant to be dead.
He was moved between buildings once or twice, subjected to new nurses who only reacted with confused looks when taking his pulse, to hours of waiting, to bandage changes for a face that didn’t need to be healed. Things seemed more relaxed in the new facility, though. They trimmed bigger holes in the eyes of the bandages so he could see a bit of his surroundings. All three family members could visit at a time. When they talked to the nurses, he found they were far less eager to hold onto him than the ICU. In fact, most seemed excited to free his bed. They didn’t know how to deal with someone like him.
On the day he was meant to be sent home, he could hear bickering outside his room as the shadows under the door became increasingly animated. It was silent for a few minutes afterwards, there was a knock, and both Margaret and the surgeon entered with smiles on their faces. The woman’s eyes were red.
“Now, son,” the surgeon said, “I understand that you’ve wanted to keep your face hidden, but if you’re going home I need to show your family how to change your bandages. Is that okay?”
Jeff’s head nodded.
“Okay.” The surgeon turned to face Jeff’s mother for a moment. “I just want to make it clear to everyone that there’s still a lot of healing to be done. The bandages aren’t ‘coming off,’ and you’re not seeing Jeffrey’s ‘new face’ for the first time here. You will need to keep these on for a while, except to change them and to eat.”
His family didn’t speak. They barely breathed as the surgeon’s gloved hands gripped the end of the dressing and slowly began to unravel it. He couldn’t see everything that was happening, but he felt his head being gently pulled in every direction and slowly becoming lighter. Once the last layer was being peeled away, he almost felt like a present. Finally, he was being carefully unwrapped, his family only earning small bits and pieces of his new face at a time. The doctor didn’t even finish tearing open their gift, though, before taking a step back and pointing wildly at it.
“Do you see? Do you see what I’m talking about? A burn victim is not supposed to look like that. That eye was fucking gone. It popped. I know you remember what he looked like before.”
“Doctor, please—” Jeff’s dad started.
“No. I’ve done my job. I’ve laid out the risks. I’m having someone else deal with the discharge.” The doctor was clearly trying not to yell as he stormed out.
“You’d think by now he’d be up to seeing anything.” Jeff’s mother sighed.
“It’s not what I expected, but I guess I don’t really know what I expected,” his brother said. “Honestly, I think you look kind of cool.”
“Could we let him see his own face before everyone starts handing out their own opinions?” His dad handed him a small mirror.
His brother had understated things. This really was perfect. An unblinking, ghastly white face with pupils the size of pencil marks. His nose was missing entirely. His lips looked like they had been pulled back by invisible fish hooks that cut a permanent smile into his cheeks. Even if he wanted to, he could never stop grinning. It was inhuman and impossible. Nobody except a family in shock would ever believe this was what a burn victim looked like. The searing pain inside of him had finally subsided.
“It’s wonderful,” he said. “Let’s go home.”
Without his surgeon being willing to be involved, discharging him from the hospital turned out to be a longer process than he thought. A nurse had to finish explaining how to change the bandages and offer an informational packet about the process. He didn’t mind, though. Even through the groans and sighs of his family, he knew the time would pass, and he knew what came next.
When he rose from his hospital bed and started towards the door, his family noticed immediately that something had altered his gait. His movements were jerky, making his joints seem somehow impossibly light and heavy at the same time. It looked as if a pair of hands was gripping his knees, pushing and pulling them forward to approximate walking. A nurse offered him crutches, but he had no need for them. He knew what the worried glances between his mother and father meant, but neither parent spoke up in front of him except to tell him he could return to the hospital if he needed to. Even Liu didn’t seem open to much conversation on the ride back, instead staring at the trees passing by his window.
It was okay. All he needed was to return home.
That night, the four of them finally sat down and had dinner together. Or, at least, his brother, his mother, and his father, had dinner. He sat at the table, but refused food. His parents shared a concerned look, but Margaret just mumbled something about painkillers, and the conversation was over.
“So, it doesn’t hurt, like at all?” Liu blurted out. His parents didn’t speak, but their faces were riddled with anxiety as they awaited a response.
“No. It feels nice, really. I feel free,” he answered.
“Oh. I don’t get it.”
“That’s okay. I don’t think it’s something for you to get.”
“Right. Sorry.” Liu sunk into himself slightly.
That night, Liu didn’t fall asleep for a long time. He didn’t seem to want to. Every few minutes, he would try to start a conversation. “Hey, Jeff?” “Are you doing okay?” “You sure you aren’t hungry?” Only grunts and handwaves answered. It wasn’t until hours after midnight that Liu finally started snoring and his brother’s body could leave its bed. He carefully avoided all of the parts of the floor that he still knew creaked as he made his way to the bathroom. Despite the darkness, he could see himself reflected perfectly in the mirror. Finally. He gripped his bandages and ripped them away from his head. His dark hair seemed to disregard the violence of the action, gently floating down onto his shoulders as if composed of small feathers. He was already grinning, but seeing himself again, he smiled even brighter. His attention only broke when he heard gentle sobbing from the kitchen.
“Did we do the right thing?” Margaret cried, something muffling her voice. “What if the surgeon was right? What if he could have saved lives? What if he’s in bed dying right now?”
“Margaret, he isn’t a lab rat. He wanted to come home. He said he wasn’t in pain. Liu is with him. I think all we can do right now is accept the miracles that we get,” Peter answered.
“But that’s how it all happened. Letting our fucking guard down. Going to that party and acting like none of those stupid urban legends would hurt our boys.”
“We can’t keep thinking like that. There’s no way we could have known how bad things would get because of a ghost story.”
“I just—”
“I understand. Of course I do. I still can’t forgive myself for even holding that drink.”
“It isn’t your fault.”
“I know. And I know that you know it isn’t yours, either.”
“I can’t help but feel like it is, though.”
“I know.”
The two stood there for a long time, not saying anything else, presumably just embracing. It took nearly twenty minutes for one of them to finally realize that sleeping was the only way they would take their mind off of things. As he listened for signs that the two had gone to their bedroom, he pondered the fact that his parents had taken the guest room for themselves. It wasn’t particularly small, but it definitely wasn’t meant for a married couple.
Once he was certain he wouldn’t be seen, he stalked towards the kitchen and began to look around. Almost immediately, he found a large knife sharp enough to cut through flesh. His reflection was blurry and unclear, but he still grinned into the metal.
He recalled the last thing he heard Jeff think. Over and over, “Please don’t hurt them. Please don’t hurt my family.” Even as the flames engulfed him, even as he forced them to burn as brightly as possible, even up to the moment of contact, to the moment he blacked out from pain, those thoughts ran through his mind. Now they were infused into him. A part of his very being. A feeling deep inside of him, one that he possessed but that he knew didn’t belong to him. A feeling that he was experiencing for the first time. He grabbed the knife and walked to the front door. There was a trick to it that only he knew; if you pulled to the left as you turned the door knob, it would open almost entirely without noise. He stood there, moonlight glinting off of the blade in his hand, and looked back for just a moment. It was a shame he never got to say goodbye.
Troy came first, now that he knew where the bastard lived. The trailer was simple to break into; the door was easily kicked open and the fucker’s dad was too drunk to put up a fight. Either the slam of the metal or the gurgling of Troy’s blacked-out father alerted the boy, and a light flicked on and filled the entire room almost immediately. Troy didn’t have the chance to speak before a hand was around his throat one last time, crushing his windpipe.
“Consider yourself lucky. I didn’t know I would die. Nobody else knew I was dead. I was thrown in a hole in the ground. I never got to rest. Every hour of every day, I was awake and aware. I saw you try to take my corpse. It burned, Troy. You’re so fucking fortunate. You get to go to sleep.”
He drove the knife into Troy’s stomach, quickly slashing it across the width of his body without letting go of the boy’s neck. Troy watched as his own intestines spilled out onto the floor, and he felt his body being dropped into a pile of itself before his breathing stopped. There was a small squeak, and Troy’s attacker quickly snapped his head towards the sound. In the excitement, he had almost forgotten about Keith. He was beaming with joy.
It's been months now since Jeffrey Woods went missing. Weeks since the first reported sighting of “The Faceless Killer.” There’s debate over whether or not the pale figure is even real; most say that a child that uses inhuman strength to gut his victims in the dead of night couldn’t be more than an urban legend. Regardless, dozens of families have shown up dead, and the few eyewitnesses left behind always describe the same thing: a boy with impossibly bright skin slipping away into the night, unable to stop smiling.