Death Has Wings

Almost A Year Older

I called the police five minutes after Mother died. They were quick to get the paramedics to take her body away. I was glad. I didn't have to look at her anymore. After they had taken her away and the police had questioned me, ruling out any possibility that I had anything to do with her death. They left after three hours. I was alone for good this time. No mother, no father, no grandparents. Just me.

I stood in the kitchen, looking at the spot where she had been. The blood had stained the floor. I need to clean that up. I wiped my eyes again, even though the tears had stopped when the police arrived. I didn't want anyone to see me like this. I sniffed up and walked around the blood patch and into the hallway. The house seemed calmer now that Mother and John were both gone. I liked that.

I always knew that my mother was going to die someday. I had accepted that since I was five. I just never thought that I would lose her this early in my life. A wave of pain clutched around my heart, making me falter slightly. I shook it off, thinking it was normal to feel that when someone you care for has died right in front of you. I opened the living room door to see that everything was normal. I smiled slightly. It was so familiar that I could probably walk around in it blindfolded and not trip over anything. I looked around once more and left the room.

The air seemed thinner as if I was on top of a mountain, or someone was sucking the air out of the house. I dismissed it. I headed upstairs, to my mother's room. All of it will have to go, every last bit. I began to take the sheets off of the bed, throwing them onto the landing. Joy bubbled up inside of me.

I stopped. I shouldn't be happy about this. I shouldn't be happy that my mother is dead. I shouldn't be happy that I was alone. Tears threatened to form as I thought of mother.

Forget about her. She's dead. There's no way you can bring her back.

That was true. For the first time in three years, I decided to start listening to the voices again. Mother was gone and I could do nothing about it. I threw the pillows onto the landing, the tears taking back their threat. The joy bubbled up again. I needed some music to work to, to keep me distracted. I went to my room, stepping over the sheets carefully. I pressed 'Play' on my CD player and the music started. I turned it up a little, so that I could hear it from all around the house. I smiled and went back to Mother's room. She had plenty of plastic bags in there. Wonderful.

I opened her wardrobe and began to bag up her clothes. She wouldn't be needing them. I laughed a little, feeling only a slight pang of guilt. A knock at the door made me jump and drop the bag. I sighed and jumped over mother's bed, trotted down the stairs and unlocked the door. It was Alexandria.

She smiled at me and walked in, closing the door behind her. The joy that had been bubbling inside me turned to dust. Why is she here? To ruin my fun, no doubt.

"So, what's new?" She walked into the living room. I had never wanted to hit a girl before, but her pure ignorance made the urge rise within me. I pushed it away, not wanting to go through with it. My music was still playing, quite loudly in fact. I didn't care anymore.

"Well," I said, following her into the living room. "My Mother is now dead thanks to being possessed, John will never be coming back and I think I'm going crazy." I sat on the sofa next to Alexandria. Her smile had disappeared and she was staring at me in false shock. I could tell it was false because I knew that she knew what had been going on. Don't ask me how I knew, but I did.

"And do you know the best part?" I said, putting emphasis on the last three words. She shook her head. I smiled. "I'm seventeen in a week."