Destiny of Demons

Maria...

With a laptop perched on my knees, I search all news pages looking for updates. Wondering what state the world was in today.  But each one told more devastation than the last and I could feel the hope that I had building, slowly dimish.

Death tolls, infection rates, confirmed cases and hopes of a vaccine in America littered the computer screen. My fingers even itched to check how England was doing, but I knew that they were currently in a better position that us, because my mum Skyped every week to see Theo and after the nanny and grandson time, she updated me. Last week she had her vaccination, along with my dad, which meant they were both now safe and a weight was lifted off my mind.

As I check the England news, my wedding ring glimmers in the light of the laptop, making me pause and realise why I am so worried about this virus. Flexing my hand, I stare at the band a little longer before curling it into a fist and looking at the man beside me. Fast asleep now, after an unrested night, Zak was snoring quietly, leg thrown over mine and head on my pillow, because his seemed to be somewhere.

His tossing and turning last night had kept me awake until almost 3am, until he gave up whatever ghost he had, pun intended, and settled in, holding me as if I was going to evaporate.

My asthmatic husband had only just returned back to work, but with how things were shaping up, I didn't give it long until he was back indoors, safe. Last March, Vegas had a stay at home order placed, the streets were empty, casinos for the first time since this city was built from the desert were silent and the seriousness of the situation hit home.

Nobody was safe in the pandemic, nobody, it took without mercy.

Glancing over Zak's shoulder, I see the small green screen and our son fast asleep in his bed. Now four years old, Theo was a spit of his dad, which meant double trouble for me, as I couldn't say no to either of them. I knew that he would be awake soon, that he would be asking when he could go and see his friends and why he couldn't come with me when I went grocery shopping and why I kept helping him wash his hands.

But most importantly, when he could have breakfast and if he can climb into our bed. It was a habit we had yet to break but with this pandemic, it made us all hold each other a little tighter, because we could no longer hold anyone else.

Rubbing life into my face, I sit up and wonder if my mum would ring this morning. I think she sensed a shift in me and I tried to remain happy and smiling, but mums knew, didn't they? She spotted it in our last video call and my excuse of tiredness was quashed when my dad looked over her shoulder and gave me the narrowed eyes, agreeing with my mum, I wasn't tired. I was unhappy.

But how to you tell your parents that you're homesick? That the first year you can't come home is the year you want to the most? Every year, I take Theo home with me, whilst Zak goes on a season spree filming. I never make him come with us, solely based on the fact that he hates flying.

Myself and Theo fly over, dousing ourselves in the English culture, before flying back with my parents in tow and spending a week in Vegas and a week in a location of their chosing, which is the two weeks Zak is spoilt for attention, as my dad wants every minute of his time and my mum is constantly fussing and feeding him.

Zak laps it up, of course and often sends me a grin when my mum is filling up his plate or taking his glasses off to clean them... She honestly can't help herself. But neither can he and encourages her. Even he misses them, but with the UK shut and America not safe, we have to wait and hope that this will all blow over sooner rather than later.

Closing all news pages, I sigh quietly, before heading back to my own source of relaxation, researching haunted places. I was mid-paragraph when Zak shut the screen of the laptop.