Magic, Memories, and Malec

Nothing Gold Can Stay

"Nature's first green is gold,

Her hardest hue to hold.

Her early leaf's a flower;

But only so an hour.

Then leaf subsides to leaf.

So Eden sank to grief,

So dawn goes down to day.

Nothing gold can stay."

- Nothing Gold Can Stay, Robert Frost

His hand wove pencil lines in delicate swirls, sculpting the form of an angel in spirals. His pencil skidded, etching a strange shape, like a diamond with two little handles. He glanced down at it, puzzled. What was that? It looked pretty. It felt angelic, but alien. He hadn't meant to draw it, and doing so made him feel strange. The blood in his veins felt hotter. Maybe it was fever.

"Toby."

He glanced up to see his mom's head poked around his door, a look of disapproval mixed with affection.

"Tobin, lights out." She said, tapping the switch lightly, allowing it to stay on, but drawing his attention.

"But mommy!" he complained, gesturing to the pencils on the bed around him. "I'm drawing!"

His mom came in, kissed his forehead, and took the pencil gently from his hand. Her eyes fell on the strange symbol he'd drawn.

"What is this?" she asked, tapping it with his finger, nails bitten to the quick. Toby shrugged.

"Dunno. I just drew it." He said, and a line appeared in her forehead, drawing her brows together worriedly.

"You can trust people with marks like that." She said cryptically, and tucked the notebook under her arm. He pretended he didn't see. Something was upsetting her, and he'd get it back tomorrow.

"Mommy," he said, curling under his comforter, pulling a blanket to his chin. "I love you."

"I love you too, Toby macaroni." She said, and blew him a kiss, clicking off his light. He closed his eyes as he relaxed back into his pillow.

A bang woke him up, the sound of wood cracking and glass shattering, the sound of his mom screaming. Toby flew out of bed, crying out.

"Mom!" he shouted, frantic. "Mommy!"

When the only response was a muffled shriek and a bang, a crashing of furniture against floorboards, Toby ran out onto the landing. He skidded to a stop at the top of the stairs. On the bottom step were four figures in black leather, his mom in the middle of the group. Their hands were tight on her arms, so fierce a grip that Toby could see their white knuckles from where he stood. They had her arms held behind her back, mouth bleeding, and he screamed.

"Mom!"

Five heads turned to him.

"Grab the boy!" one ordered, and Toby stood still, frozen.

"Run, Toby!"

He spun at his mother's instruction and bolted into his room, throwing home the lock. He pushed the dresser against the door, and started pulling out clothes. He pulled on a sweater over his t-shirt and jeans. He yanked on sneakers and was going to grab a coat when a thud sounded. The bolt had burst. How did that happen?! He heard scrabbling feet, and a muffled scream from his mom. The door flew wide and he caught side of her, being dragged bodily up the stairs to the attic, mouth gagged. He turned and pushed his window up, scrambling out and onto the flat roof below. Below that, the ground didn't seem so far away. He looked down. He knew he shouldn't, but a man was stood by the window, looking ready to pursue him. So he leapt.