Shards of Blue Glass

Father Whithigh

Saira's POV

The others leave Zak and I alone for most of the next day.

    Zak stays in the room we share, barely talking to anyone, even me. I understand his need for isolation all too well, but I also know that it's good to be around friends and family when you feel like crap.

    I try three times to get Zak to leave, but he simply turns away and shuts me out. He doesn't even eat. I express my worries to the guys, who all wear concerned expressions.

    "Well, what happened to make him like this?" Alex asks, an uncharacteristic frown on his face. I blink at Jae, startled he didn't tell them. He shrugs, and I turn back to Alex and Mark.

    "Zak got possessed by a demon last night. This morning. Whichever. But that's not the worse part," I say, holding out my hands. Alex and Mark stare back at me from the second bed in Jae's room, which is down the hall from mine and Zak's.

    "The demon forced Zak to try to choke me. And he almost succeeded before I broke through to Zak," I say, unconsciously rubbing my throat, though no bruises are there. Only the crossed scratch from yesterday remains.

    "He should go see a priest, then. Get blessed, or exorcised. Whichever is needed," Mark says thoughtfully. I nod, agreeing, and walk down the hall to my room.

When I open the door, I see Zak sitting on the bed, head cradled in his hands. I see his back shaking, and proceed quietly. "Zak. Come on. You and I are going for a walk," I say, trying not to sound worried and fearful. Zak doesn't respond, but simply stands, turning around to face me.

    I almost burst into tears at the utter pain and horror in Zak's eyes as he looks at me. It tears at my heart to see him like this. Then, my heart ices over. I'm doing this for him. I'm doing this so he'll return back to normal.

    I take Zak's hand, and pull him out the door. The others are in their rooms, sparing Zak the awkwardness of seeing him like this, even though I know that they have before.

    Zak and I walk down the street, hand in hand. The trees are turning gold again for the beginning of autumn, though it's still summer for a few more weeks. I point this out to Zak, and he actually smiles a little bit.

    I talk to him about the weather as we stroll along. And the birds I see. And the books I'm writing. Anything to keep his mind off of last night.

    I see the iconic stone spire through the trees, the symbol of a church. I pick up the pace a bit, anxious to reach my destination. Zak hurries along next to me, only lengthening his stride a little bit to keep up with me.

    The church comes into view as we round a corner. It's only when we're on the steps, about to enter, that Zak seems hesitant. He stops, yanking me to a standstill. I turn, words on my tongue, which die when I see Zak's expression.

    He gazes up at the church with a look of loathing, though fear shines in his eyes. "Zak. Zak, look at me," I say, bringing Zak's hazel gaze back down to earth. "This is for your own good, okay? Just follow me inside. If you don't feel comfortable, then we'll leave."

    He nods, his dark hair falling around his face in a mess. He didn't comb it when we got back to the hotel; he's simply been sitting on the bed, crying or silently thinking.

    We enter, and a rush of cool air greets us.

    The scarlet pews are practically empty, with a few people kneeling in prayer. The altar is empty, at least for a second, before a robed man emerges from a side room, his eyes on us as soon as he reaches the raised platform.

    He hustles towards us, and I see his face lined with age, though his blue eyes are bright and clear. "Hello, my friends. I am Father Whithigh. I sensed darkness as soon as you entered. Which of you has the energy attached to you?"

    I nod to Zak, who looks at Father Whithigh with something like a mix of fear and anger. The priest looks at Zak. "A demonic possession, I presume?" I nod, and Father Whithigh approaches Zak with his hands raised.

    "Now, I need you two to come with me. Cleansing requires privacy, and I do not wish to kick out the prayers." I nod, and follow the old man to the side room he came out of. He gestures for Zak to take a seat, which Zak does, still holding tightly to my hand. Father's eyes go to our interlocked fingers, but he doesn't say a word about it.

    The next few minutes pass by in a blur for me. One because my mind is focused on other things, and two because Zak squeezes my hand so hard black spots dance before my eyes.

    I never tell him to loosen his hold, though. I know he needs all the support he can get.

    After Father Whithigh finishes the cleansing, Zak looks tired, though his eyes look lively for the first time all day. He looks over at me and smiles. I smile back, happiness flooding me. Father Whithigh leads us out of the church, watching Zak for signs of fatigue. Zak, on the other hand, is looking around, his eyes wide and alive.

    I turn to the old priest at the bottom of the steps, a smile on my face. "Thank you, Father Whithigh. Is there any way I can repay you?" I ask, looking into his pale cerulean eyes.

    The man smiles and shakes his head. "No, Saira Collings, there is not. Though I implore you to keep an eye on your fiance during your investigations. Once a demon possesses you, it takes a long time for the soul to heal. Others can take him over more easily now, at least for a while."

    My smile widens, then a realization hits me. "We never told you our names," I say. Father Whithigh smiles kindly, and turns to go back into the church.

    "Even priests and old men watch TV, Saira. Be safe, child. Be careful with that child of yours as well. That is, if you have one." I blink at the priest, who simply smiles wider and walks back through the doors.

    I turn to Zak, who shrugs and laughs. I laugh as well, and we head back to the hotel.

    We pass a Walgreens on our way back, and I pull Zak's hand to stop him. He turns back to me, looks at the store, then back at me, a small smile on his face, like he knows what I'm thinking. "Might as well make sure," I say with a shrug. Zak laughs and follows me inside.

    I find what I'm looking for, then go pay for it. I take it to the bathroom immediately, reading the package to see how long it'll take. When I emerge with the test in my pocket, I see Zak surrounded by a couple of girls who want to take pictures with him. He nervously smiles at me, and I laugh.

    Then the girls catch sight of me. They swarm me, asking for pictures and autographs. I graciously give them out, smiling in the photos and doing my best to make my signature look neat. I inherited my dad's sloppy handwriting.

    Once all that is done, Zak and I leave the store, walking back to the hotel. Zak wraps his arm around my shoulders, and I smile up at him.

    A secret, a mystery, resides in my pocket. A mystery I'm hoping to solve in a short amount of time.