Haunted

XIX

I left Cade as soon as possible at the coffee shop. I couldn't look at him without feeling guilty for what almost happened to him.

Because I had thought the note was a joke, Cade was almost killed.

Of course, the two incidents could just be huge coincidences, but what were the chances? Besides, the mask I'd seen through the window of the car, when time seemed to pause, was the same one described to me by Jeanine that her killer wore.

And it made sense that the killer wouldn't want me anywhere near Cade. I was the one who helped influence him to go see his father, and the one who kept him sane during that meeting. I was the one who helped him know about body number one. I was the one was helping him look for the killer. I was the one who made Cade feel like he wasn't alone anymore.

I could envision the killer seeing through the same eyes as Willy Woods. They probably guessed about Cade's powers according to the ramblings Jeanine described. They knew that Willy had taught Cade things no kid should know. Anyone who paid close attention to Cade would know that Willy showed him scarring things. Things that could turn any normal little boy into a crazed killer when they grew up. And if the killer really was copying Willy Woods, they would want the same things for Cade as Willy did. For Cade to become the most infamous serial killer in the world.

Cade had the ability, there was no doubt about that. With Willy's conditioning and teaching of his son, there was no way Cade wouldn't have the ability. Not to mention the horrible visions he was forced to see every time he touched another human being. Seeing death that often, and seeing the deaths of your father's victims before you actually witnessed them, it messed you up. It had to. Going without apparent human contact for so long in fear of this can make someone hate other people. View them as less than human, like Willy did.

At this point, the only things I saw holding Cade back where his best friend, his hard stubbornness in becoming a better person than his good-for-nothing father, and me.

Of course, his best friend could very well be the killer, so it was safe to rule Joey out of the equation. For all I knew he was actually manipulating Cade into becoming the man Willy would've wanted him to be. And the second reason would've fell apart when he visited his father if I hadn't been there. I could see though Cade was trying to resist, he probably would've broken under his father's evil eyes had he not had a reason to believe he wasn't a monster like Willy. Being able to touch me without seeing my death gave Cade the out he desperately needed in his life. It told him that he wasn't totally cursed. He wasn't just being blamed for his father's sins. He could have a life without death following him everywhere.

And if I walked away from Cade, the killer might just get what he wanted. Willy would get what he wanted.

Cade could finally break.

I was the first person Cade could build an actual connection with in years. Someone he could be in contact with without being reminded of a tortured childhood. I was someone he could love.

And by taking that away from him, Cade would be alone again. Of course, he'd still have his best friend, but if Joey was the killer that was no consolation.

I once read an article by someone who was blind. They talked about how people who could see would always ask if the blind person wished that they could see the colors too. They were always asked if they were sad that they couldn't see colors. But their answer was simple. They couldn't miss something they never had. They didn't know what it was like to see the world in all of its brilliance, so they didn't know what they were missing out on. In contrast, the article also featured a section dedicated to someone who had lost their sight in a car accident. Their answer was different for many obvious reasons. They remembered what it was like to see. They remembered the brightness of the sun and the sparkle of the water at night. And they missed it desperately. Of course, it was noted that some people who lose their vision learn to live with their new stage of existence, but there is always that hole there, however small. They knew what it was like to see, and they had it forcefully taken away from them.