Christy
"Christy this is just unacceptable, you can't do that, I understand you're still affected with your father's death, that's okay, but going ahead to see a medium! Is totally out of the line." She gestured with her hands.
"He saw dad, he saw him! Look he wrote a note to me! Dad is still with me!" I showed the note to her.
She shook her head while pinching the bridge of her nose, "listen Christy, your father is dead and gone! Is impossible to see his spirit, what that medium saw was a demon who took his appearance to deceive you, Leviticus 19:31 says 'Give no regards to mediums and familiar spirits; do not seek after them to be defiled by them...' Letting a medium into you is opening the doors of your heart for evil spirits."
"Enough Mum! Bible here, Bible there! What proves that someone didn't change it? What demons? Is Dad! That's the exact same word he told me! I don't understand why you're against every choice I make! I just want to talk to my father is it too much to ask?!" I yelled as tears welled in my eyes.
"Honey, I know how you feel, but don't be so desperate you might regret it." She said in a wobbling voice.
"Is dad coming?" John dragged his foot sleepily rubbing his eyes down the stairs.
She gave me a soft look before going to hug john, she didn't want me to do this but am gonna do it!
I grabbed my jacket and stomp out, I knew where I was going to find him.
I walk down the streets to the woods while repeating to myself that it was the right thing to do.
I climbed the ladder and push the door opened. It was very easy to climb in much more easier than I thought.
I spotted him in the corner with an ouija board and candles.
"Sit." He instructed.
I sat across him on the wooden floor, the board had letters and numbers with a little pieces of wood like heart with a hole.
"Are you willing to do this?" He said not bothering to cast me a look.
"Yes!" I nodded.
He shut his eyes and starts chanting in a scary language, his voice and tone changed, the tree house starts shaking, the little figures dropped from the table and the glass cup fell and broke.
What if mum was right? This is spiritism but I want my dad!
I was so confused and scared, I tried calling him but he won't reply, he had zone out, he wasn't there anymore, it sounded like another thing had taken possession of him.
All of a sudden he stops chanting, eyes still closed he pointed at the piece of wood with heart shape, with his index finer, I watch his hand carefully as he pointed at the cupboard.
Did he want me to look through that? I picked it up with shaking hands and slowly brought it up, I felt a pit in my stomach, I didn't want to do this anymore, her words were echoing in my mind, my body trembled and I was lost.
I took a deep breath and settled the conflict in me, I'll do what I came to do, I raised the object up to my face, just when I was about to look through he grabbed my hand and took the object from. The quaking had ceased, sun rays came through the window and enlightened the room.
"Why did you stop?" I frown.
He sigh and stood up heading to the window.
"I wanna see him! I want to talk to my father!" I went after him.
"You can't."
"Meaning what?! You told me I could!"
"If you do that, you'll invite THEM and..." He sigh, "you just can't!" He walked back to where we were seating and pack the ritual materials.
I fell on my feet, I know mum was right but I was so desperate, I allowed the tears I've been holding in for a while to run freely.
"Your father is dead and gone. Sorry." He said. "At times, you just have to let go and move on, you can't bring him back, you're lucky to have your mother and brother."
I scoff, "not really she doesn't care about me, she values God more than me." I wiped the tears on my cheeks.
"You can still do something about that if you stop acting as a rebel."
I frowned, "me rebel?! My mother is worst! She won't listen to me! All she cares about is that stupid book! Rules, rules! God! God! My opinion is bullshit!" I roared in frustration.
"But she do love you, that's why she's doing what she does." He said.
"What do you know about love and family?! You don't even have any!" I was so enraged, the words came flowing out, when I realized what I just said it was too late, he was staring at me speechlessly, his scary gray eyes locking on mine, the were emotionless, so was his face, he didn't seem hurt, not at all, but deep in those emotionless eyes, just deep, I saw a little sign of hurt, or was it emptiness and pain?
"Oh shit!" I covered my mouth, "sorry, am so very sorry! I didn't mean what I said!" I got up and tried to touch him but he flinched and back off, still not showing any emotion.
"You're right." He walked to the window.
I sigh before plopping on the wooden chair, "are you gay?" I asked out of blue, I hate staying in silence and I wanted to change subject.
He shrugged. My stomach growled and I flush in embarrassment.
He unzip his bag pulling out a full tin of ice cream. I lick my lips and grin, what a coincidence it was my favourite ice cream.
"Chocolate!" I exclaimed not been able to contain my excitement.
As soon as it got in my grips I wolf it, too bad cause as soon as it got in my mouth, I had a Brain freeze!
I saw his lips crack in a little smile from the corner of my eyes, he was so damn cute!
"Aren't you having some?" I asked.
"I don't eat ice creams." He picked a short thick wood and started carving.
I blinked, "why did you buy it then?"
He shrugged.
"You're very weird." I took another spoonful of ice cream, slowly this time.
I watch him transformed the wood into one of those black figures. He had his back on me, so I studied his every move without feeling uncomfortable he couldn't see me, then I noticed a scar and some bruises behind his neck where his hair previously stayed.
"You know when I was five dad use to take us to the amusement park and we have lots of fun, I can still remember when we play cops and robber with our water guns, he was always the winner, he was a soldier! A proud soldier." I smiled at my pleasant souvenirs. "you?"
He stopped carving, "I don't have any good memories of my family, my father was always hitting my mother or vice versa, we never lived in peace, after my family I went to other homes and it was no different, even worst." He resumed his art.
"Sorry." I mumbled.
His phones starts buzzing, a quick glance on his screen was enough to get him moving.
"Are you leaving?" I asked obtaining a half nod as he grabbed his jacket, he was on long sleeves why wearing a jacket.
"Where?"
"Work."
"You don't have to do that, you've got your Forster parents."
Silence filled the room, he didn't move a muscle for some seconds.
"You need to call the cops, I know he is still abusing you." I mentioned for the bruise on his neck.
He raised his collar "Is nothing, I've gone through worst than this, what will it change?" He spoke monotonously like it was nothing.
"Don't you feel pain?"
He shook his head, "life is pain."
I suck my breath, "I wanna help you."
"You can't Christy, is impossible." He simply said. He knew my name! He called my name! Hearing him pronounce my name made we feel weird, first my heart skipped and my stomach felt funny.
"Wait!" I stopped him when he was about to turn around, "why did you cut your hair?" I've been wanting to ask him that question since I met him in the house.
"My psychiatrist wanted me to."
With no further words he left. I watch him go till he was out of view.
He isn't a freak or a weirdo, I was wrong about him, he is a boy trying to break free from all the years of abuse, he is depressed, and needs my help even if he denies it.