For You

IV

The funeral was that next Monday. I don't remember crying there but that's not saying much; I don't remember most of the things that happened after I found Molly; or her body anyway.

One thing I do remember are the police and their questions. I don't recall a moment in my life where I felt as guilty as I did when they questioned me; lying straight to their face that I didn't know what happened. But maybe I didn't know what happened. I mean I went into panic mode as soon as I saw Molly, so I never got the chance to ask Allen what had happened; him leaving as soon as my grip on his wrist slacked. Even so, I still don't want to protect him; it felt like he was slowly trying to destroy my life.

I threw the book I just couldn't bring myself to finish at the wall; leaving a small dint in the wall. I ran a hand threw my hair just as a ping came from my phone signaling I had gotten a text. picking it up, it read:

'Park. Fifteen minutes.'-AL

I knew this would happen. Grabbing my jacket, I left to go meet Allen, not even bothering to tell my parents I was leaving.

"You know," Allen started," I didn't kill Molly." I shot him a glance him, the angry look not leaving my face. He sighed, "You aren't going to believe when I tell you."

"Try me."

"Well," he raked his hand across his face in a tired manner, "Your 'friend' Molly was planning to kill you soon." I stared at him blankly. He shook his head, "You have to believe me. My friend Brandon," Allen paused, closing his eyes, "My friend Brandon is Seer."

My frown deepened, "A Seer? As in the people who are blind but can see into the future?" He nodded.

"But they're fictional; myths."

Allen laughed loudly, "I'm not done. Now Molly was a mortal with no 'special' powers but she could tell who we-"

"We? Who's we?"

"All of the supernatural beings now stop interrupting me. So she was planning on exposing us to the whole world, or at least Chicago. We, obviously, couldn't let that happen so her soul was ripped from her body and sent to where ever she's headed, either hell or heaven" I stared at him, horrified. "How was her soul," I gulped, "you know, ripped from her body?"

"By a Reaper." He said it so casually. "But what does any of this have to do with me. I mean, you know I wouldn't have said anything. If I was going to, I would have already told the police, or at least my parents." He gave me an almost disappointed look, "You're smart."

...

...

...

My eyes widened, "You mean?" He laughed, "Yes Peter, you're a supernatural being. I hope you weren't expecting a gold star and a pat on the back for figuring that out."

I frowned, "Well what am I? Wouldn't I have noticed by now?" Allen shrugged, "Don't ask me, ask your pops. He is the one who ripped your friends soul out of her."

The park was silent, the only noise coming from the wind rustling the trees leaves.  Allen had stayed and talked with me for a while but had left about an four hours ago. It was 10:45 at night and had seventeen missed calls from my mom and ten from my dad.

My dad.

He was a Reaper? My dad; the stubborn, calm, and collected lawyer was a Reaper?  Did my mom know? Was she also a Reaper or was she something else entirely? I had asked Allen about it but he wouldn't tell my anything about them. He said that is wasn't his place to tell me about my own family but he did tell me about his.

He was 22, a telepath, and was born in Tennessee. He and his dad had moved to Chicago whenever he was very young, about four, because his mother wanted nothing to do with them once she found out that they were telepaths; she became almost fearful for her life.

Standing up from the bench, I decided it was time to finally head home and face my own family.

I don't think I have ever seen my mom like this. As I was approaching the house, she hadn't seen me yet so I stood on the porch steps, taking in how messy she looked. Her dark hair was pulled into a bun and the little makeup she did wear was smeared under her eyes, telling that she was crying.

My father was sitting next to her with his arm wrapped around her slumped shoulders, whispering something that I couldn't hear but he glanced up and my dark green eyes met his stormy grey ones. For a second they lit up but they quickly flashed with anger.

 My mother must have sensed something was up, so she followed my fathers line of vision until she saw me. She looked frozen for a second before she burst into tears again and rushed to me. She didn't hug me though, as if she was scared to.

I had forgotten how long I had been out, almost fourteen hours. I hadn't even told them I was leaving. She must have gone to wake me up this morning to find an empty room. Oh god, what kind of son was I.

No. You're mad at them, remember? They've lied to you. I could feel my face becoming less emotional, turning hard as stone. My mother looked shocked, I had always had a soft look on my face so to see me look cold and closed off was a shock.

"Clara," My father started walking toward us, "Why don't you head to bed, Ill speak with Peter. Ill be there soon." My mom seemed to not want to, but seeing the cold and vague look both her husband and her son were wearing, she hurriedly rushed inside but not without kissing my father on the cheek. I could see a flicker of love pass through his eyes before they were cold again.

"Where were you." he hissed. I glared, "Why does it matter to you?"

"Because Im your father. Not only were you gone for fourteen hours, you never spoke with us once. Your mother and I were worried sick about you."

"Really? Because you weren't to worried to tell me that you were a reaper or that you were the one to kill Molly or that people are looking for you to return me." His eyes widened. "How mu-"

"How much do I know? Oh not much, just that you killed my best friend and you've been lying to me my entire life."

"Peter, you don't understand. If they get you back-"

"Get me back? When did they have me in the first place?"

He froze, knowing he had said to much. "Peter, well, you're adopted."