A Thousand Years

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         He grabs onto my sleeve tightly, I know he’ll never let go. I grab the empty vodka bottle from the floor and swing it towards his head—knocking him unconscious. Tears fall from my cheeks when his body hits the floor, blood dripping from his ear and nose. I run over to my mom’s body. Her dress is in tatters and covered in her blood. All of her bruises and cuts from his abuse show. I kiss her cheek and close her eyes. Her skin is cold. I grab the revolver from my father’s grip. Shears of the glass bottle are in his skin, with deep red liquid spewing over his skin. I try to breathe, taking in one last look of my home, and run out of the door…

                I run into the woods, stumbling through the pitch black darkness. Mud from the pouring rain splash around my legs, as the raindrops slip through my hair gently. My jeans and shirt and hair get caught on stray branches while I trip over stones and through mini streams, but I can’t turn back. I don’t know how long I’ve run when I come to a clearing.

                There’s a tall, thick metal gateway. Through the bars I see a mansion—bigger than any building I’ve ever seen. It’s beautifully gothic, dark, and intimidating. I slowly push on the doors, causing the gate to creak loudly. I run to the front door and pound my fists, waiting for a person to answer. But the door is unlocked, and slowly opens as well. I take a step in, with only the lightning to light my way every few seconds.

                Goosebumps rise on my skin as the rain droplets dry. My footsteps echo through the hallways.

                ‘Hello?’ My voice sounds enormous inside. It echoes and repeats itself through the rooms, and I soon realize the house has been abandoned. The mansion rooms are still set up as though it was ready for a royal party. The table settings are out—drenched in dust and cobwebs—as well as made beds, kitchens, and bathrooms. I walk over to one of the longest tables and pick up a large platter, blowing the dust off. I’m met with my reflection. But I’m not alone. There’s a glow in the background, a light blue hue, small. I gasp, and drop the platter. The metal rings against the marble floors. I turn around quickly—but the glow is gone.

                I shake my head and sigh. I start walking again, and pause in a ballroom. But I still hear light footsteps. I turn all around, but still see no one.

                ‘…is someone here?’

                I receive no answer. I turn back around and keep walking throughout the rooms. I feel a cold breeze against my neck and quickly turn again, gasping. And then I see it—the blue glow. But something’s different—it’s not just a glow, it’s a shape…a person. It’s only a few feet away. I don’t move, and neither does it.

                Slowly, as it takes shape, details appear. A face, young, vibrant, old jacket and pants, boots, baggy shirt. A young man.

                He just stares at me, I don’t know if he can speak or not but I back a few steps away and try to breathe. He looks so innocent, so alone…

                ‘What are you?’

                He just looks down over himself before regaining eye contact with me.             

                ‘Who are you?’

                ‘…Jack.’

                His voice is soft, sweet, calming. It has a strange charm that my voice doesn’t. It echoes more than mine…but it doesn’t seem like a normal echo, more like…he has three voices, all repeating themselves, each softer than the one before.

                He speaks again, ‘who are you?’

                ‘Lea…’ He takes a step towards me but I swiftly jump back. He stops in his tracks.

                ‘I can’t hurt you…I won’t hurt you.’

                ‘How can I trust you…?’

                He doesn’t speak, but holds out his hand. I slowly reach my hand out, and our fingers touch. A spark shoots through my body, and a painfully spontaneous chill sprints up my spine. I reach out further, and our hands pass through each other, my wrist goes through his palm. I snap back into my senses when my skin begins to burn. I flinch away, holding my hand in my shirt.

                ‘I can’t hurt you…’

                Now I see what he means. We can’t touch, we can’t feel…we can’t harm each other.

                ‘Why are you here?’

                He retorts my question, ‘Why are you here?’

                ‘…I left my home, now, why are you here?’

                He looks around. The look on his face when he hears the question causes my stomach to jump. His eyes become completely focused and intense, their chocolate brown color shining against his glow. His voice is steady, ‘It’s late…I’ll give you a room tonight.’

                ‘How do I know you won’t just put me in some dark room until morning?’

                He stops and turns back to me, ‘I’ve been alone for years….you think I’ll hurt the first person who doesn’t desert me after a second glance?’ He utters these words with so much pain that I can’t help but try to take back my question. But he shakes his head and gestures for me to follow him still.

                We go up a few flights of stairs. He stops at a large door, and slowly opens it, stepping away as though he’s afraid to touch me. I walk in slowly. The room is made up of entirely white and black furniture with stained glass windows and a small balcony.

                ‘This is my room—so it’s cleaner.’

                I turn around to face him, ‘…where will you sleep?’

                ‘I don’t need to.’ He vanishes, leaving me alone for the night.