The Witch's Ichor

Sing From Your Heart [11]

Some students drive, some ride the bus, and others walk. Ryker is part of the third group, and he is alone. Jamison, Theo, and Derek are headed for downtown. Ryker can see them walking the opposite direction. He turns away, and starts the long walk home.

The suburbs are a quiet place. Occasionally a car will drive by, but not often. Birdsong mixes with the sounds of a lawnmower and the barking of a dog. It's an atmosphere Ryker is comfortable in.

Ryker's home looks far less cozy without his parents' vehicles parked out front. The windows are all dark. His house resembles an empty skeleton of an animal long dead. Ryker unlocks the front door, and steps inside.

It's uncomfortably quiet inside. The din of a suburban neighborhood is nowhere to be found. Ryker takes off his shoes by the door, and walks upstairs.

His room is just as he left it this morning. Ryker tosses his backpack aside. He looks into the closet mirror. The boy staring back at him from the mirror looks dead on his feet. His shoulders are broad, yet his hoodie obscures them. He's tall too, but he's slouching to appear shorter. The boy's short dark hair is not short, but not long either. Ryker doesn't recognize this stranger in the mirror.

I should sleep.

Ryker walks over to his unmade bed, and unceremoniously flops onto it. He's face down in the pillow, and fully clothed. Neither of these things impede him as he quickly embraces unconsciousness.

~

Quiet knocking on Ryker's bedroom door wakes him from a dream he can't recall. He rubs the sleep from his eyes. His mother is giving him a concerned look from the doorway.

"You ok, honey?" She asks gently.

Ryker glances over at the closet mirror. That same unfamiliar boy is staring back at him. He looks over to his concerned mother, and smiles. This smile is a cheap imitation of happiness.

"Yeah, I'm good. Just felt like napping." Ryker lies.

"Okay... Let me know if you need to talk, honey." She says.

Ryker watches his mother leave with a blank look on his face. He stands up from his bed, and looks into the closet mirror once more. The boy looking back smiles. His smile looks wrong. It's like the boy's face is a mask, and he's covering up something inside himself.

I need to leave.

Ryker doesn't bother grabbing his phone or backpack on his way out. He's careful on his way down the stairs, so they don't creak. The living room is quiet. The clock reads 11:40. Ryker puts on his torn up sneakers, and quietly exits the house.

The chorus of crickets chirping does little to comfort Ryker. He walks down the sidewalk aimlessly. There isn't a specific place he is going, but his feet carry him regardless. The stars are so pretty, but the streetlights make it difficult to see them all. Ryker starts jogging.

The houses are getting sparser now. Empty lots and trees are growing more common as Ryker jogs away from his home. The distant sounds of cars are fading fast. The streetlights are few and far between here. Ryker slows to a stop.

Why am I here?

Ryker is standing at the gravel road leading to Esmarelda's Emporium. He can see the partial moon hanging in the sky overhead. The trees form a wall of forest before him. Ryker breaks into a run.

When Ryker and his friends first heard about Esmarelda's Emporium, they were doubtful. Rumors of witches in the woods normally turn out to be just that: rumors.

Ryker's sneakers crunch over the gravel as he runs. His lungs burn as he picks up the pace. He ignores the pain in his calves in favor of moving forward.