Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Hey, what happened to you?" I found myself growing antsy—we never really crossed the boundary of confronting our demons together.
Secrets brewed beneath our skin and that only consummated more pain then I could handle. Tiberius flicked his tail, showing no sign of retreat as I cornered him in my bedroom, standing in front of the door. Sure, he could probably scale the window, but I made sure to bolt it shut. It's not like he had human hands to fiddle the lock.
It had been a week now since my return, and while it's been. . .strange to say the least, the comfort and warmth I thought I'd never feel came back in a slow burn. My family knew to give me distance, we'll, Bode was an exception because he was so young and naive to know the difference, but the rest of my family absolved from pushing me or trying to make me feel any less estranged. Mom especially kept her distance, proving that despite her protest on leaving me be, she understood I needed time. Time which she didn't understand. How could she? I left without any reason why—she could never know why.
But within the week I had been home, Tiberius seemed to adjust well—mostly. Something was off about him, the way he would steer clear of the basement or stare oddly at a door like a memory overcame him. I wondered if it had anything to do with his resurrection—obviously he couldn't die. There was evidence enough of that by him nearly dying the two times he had been here. Worried was an understatement.
So I figured now would be a good time as any.
"Just—tell me what's wrong? You've been acting so weird ever since you got back," I questioned coolly, hoping I wasn't being to harsh.
Tiberius sighed, shaking his furry head, "I died. I believe I have the right to be somewhat 'weird.'"
"Yes, but you came back alive? How is that even possible?"
I still couldn't register the fact. Tiberius didn't say anything for a moment, his eyes curiously hazy. "The key and its abilities are beyond me. . .I still don't understand why I was created, but someone made a key to trap my human self within a cat. For generations, I've seen what this house and the keys within it have caused, and for generations I have died more then a hundred times, hoping my death was final. . .Somehow, the key prevents me from ever dying," he seemed almost tortured by the thought. I can only imagine—ever since he told me his sister had died and he blamed himself for it, he had to live with that for more then he should have. Mourning her death every year, forever stuck watching people become born and then die again. It seemed. . .like a personal purgatory one can never escape from.
"You think someone did this to you to punish you?" I breathed, confused, hurt even. Tiberius seemed exhausted, bereft of feeling anymore, yearning for the end knowing full well it would never come.
He tilted his head, eyes askew. "Perhaps. . .But I didn't have many enemies in my time. . .My father killed himself not long after my sister's passing. He didn't believe in magic or all things superstitious. My sister did, but she had—" he gulped, a unwavering stag of pain rendering control over his words. "When I die, my memories do not. . .They're more focused and fresh if anything. I can remember pieces vividly like the next and it's. . .painful."
