Sixty Flashes of Life

Chapter 5

Chapter 5.

[23:04]

"Mommy, mommy, I do dis fer you," Eliot exclaimed like a boisterous group of teenagers who had only found out that their parents would be off for the weekend, and they got the whole house to party.

He trotted into his parent's room after his mother had put him to sleep an hour ago, and went away once he nodded off. By force of habit or fear of loneliness, he did not want to stay alone, for the monsters would scent his smell of awe, which was as strong as the field of corpse flowers – that's why his mind woke a few minutes after it.

There was a piece of paper, covered with chalks of different colors in an orderly way, which he stretched out happily in his hand. He halted almost immediately after walking into the room. He noticed something that a child should not witness, something that a vampire would do with his victim in whom he had fallen in love with. Something sacred, pure and, simultaneously, or abominable like a summer camp where all your friends do not go, but you have to.

They did not notice his presence at once, and were in the middle of it. This was that something that his mommy had offered his daddy a few years ago, of which he had no notion anymore. Memory is like a fluid: it streams in and out, leaving only residue after itself. Children's memory is, in fact, an evanescent butterfly, which gives them an opportunity to forget what needs to be forgotten, and many of those other unfortunate events that fall victims under the ruthless wheel of time.

Eliot stood frozen in the middle of the room as bleak shadows cast over the wall on the right from his parents' bed. His mother reclined in an unusual position, her head away from the entrance, only naked back covered with her long curly hair. She moaned softly, and the first thought that came to his childish mind was that the monster hurt her.

Not more than a minute later, her head tilted backwards so much that her eyes were on the same level as his. Bewilderment resided in his eyes, which was swept away with a slight shame.

She screamed –not at him, though– into the void of darkness, swiftly falling down on her side and covering herself with a sheet.

"Eliot! What are you doin' here? Aren't you supposed to sleep? She stammered every other word, her lungs insatiable for air.

"Whaa—" a slow, late reaction of his father rang behind her back. "What happened?"

Lee tried to draw himself, but a quick motion of his mother's hand, a bit harsh and rough, pushed him back. She left it on his chest, pressing it like an eighteen-year old hooker who received her fist crumpled bucks for the first time, and afraid it might be taken back.

"Lemme," she stepped off the bed, covered in sheets from her legs to upper chest. Her body moved swiftly, if a bit shaky. She kneeled down, one lap touched the ground, as her hand patted the boy on his head.

"Why aren't you sleeping, my boy? Something in the dark again?" Her voice rang like a lullaby, making embarrassment vacate.

"I heaa-ve picture," he held out his right hand. This time it was not a picture of the same man in black, Eliot had developed a passion to draw. It was a simple picture of their summer house with the dog named Loulou. Despite its simplicity, Eliot's style of drawing was way advanced than his age should allow.

As his mother examined the picture and gave a few flattering comments in an overly mawkish way, Eliot fixed his gaze straight into the black eyes of his friend, who reclined in the armchair next to the window, relaxed and immovable.

A chill ran up his spine, for his friend remained excessively apathetic those days. The thought bothered, making him question whether He was his friend yet. He would dwell on the thought longer if only his mother did not lift him up and carried into his own room, after dressing her nightgown.

That day happened to incite a painful process of doubt. His friend was not a friend anymore, or maybe he was, but He certainly changed. He grew cold, distant, and monsters were not so frightened to stay in his presence.

He did not know what had occurred to Him, but there was one thing that was as clear as an upcoming sunrise – it was the time for him to learn how to survive on his own.