This feels wrong-no, this is wrong. Why on earth would he have agreed to this? They're the reason why he ran away in the first place.
Cold January morning air crept through the crack in the car window, right up MC's spine. He immediately crossed his jacket over his chest, searching for warmth against the chill. With each breath he exhaled, the glass would fog up, blocking his view of the passing landscape for just a second.
MC had his eyes glued to the 'Welcome to Fallen Falls' billboard until it was out of view. A miracle he was, since that sign had overgrown with vines and moss. A once proud landmark now stood-like so many other things-speaking to better times gone-by, much like those memories he thought he'd left buried.
The weathered signboard, bold letters now faded to ghostly white, proudly proclaimed "Fallen Falls," a relic of times frozen in history. Years gone by, that sign radiated a bittersweet nostalgia from MC, reminding him how things used to be in this small community.
His hands spasmed at the urge to fling open the door and dive out, take his chances on the side of the road rather than return to this town. How long has it been? Three years? Five? It had stretched and shrunk in so many strange ways since he'd left, impossible to calculate how big the gap was between then and now.
MC turned away from the window, fidgeting with his too-long hair. He tried to reassure himself: they weren't here to stay. It was just a short visit. A day or two, and then he'd be gone again. He was overreacting. Everything would be fine.
"Can you close that damn window?!" A voice screeched from the back seat. "It's freezing back here!"
MC turned to find Maximus glaring at him-the wind having surely ruined his good reading time. MC's gaze fell to the comic in his brother's hand: 'Survive or Dive' Volume 15. Straight away, so many floods of nostalgic emotions got him, as he used to really like this series so much some time back.
The story followed Adam, a meek boy who joined the reality survival show 'Would You Survive?' to earn money for his ailing grandmother. Little did he know he'd be fighting for his very life. As the stakes escalated, Adam teamed up with Johnny, a mysterious solo contestant with unshakeable coolness. Together, they became the duo every kid dreamed of being.
But MC had stopped reading long ago.
"What's currently happening in the story?" he asked in a hushed tone, curiosity begetting the best of him despite having given up on the series at volume 5.
Maximus's eyes lit up, his earlier irritation forgotten as he launched into an excited explanation. "Johnny and Adam are in Cyber City. There's this rogue AI trying to wipe out humanity. They have to find a way to take it down and survive. I'm at the really juicy part where—"
MC nodded, a small smile curling his lips. The series was well and truly still going strong; he really should take it up again. Why had he stopped in the first place?
"Hey! Close the window already!" Maximus exclaimed, his exhilaration now replaced with exasperation.
MC touched his face; the numbness there startled him, and he realized that he had left the window open for far too long. He really should close the window.
"Sorry," he growled, finally pushing it closed.
Maximus gave him an angry stare, his voice incomprehensible uttering a comment, MC felt the malice in any words said. Depressed, beyond a retort that again made him feel weaker and more cowardly; was he not though? He thought to himself weak, feeble, pitiable coward.
Resigned, MC turned back to the window to watch the familiar yet strange landscape roll by. He pulled out his phone and earbuds, scrolling through his playlist. At least he had a good selection of music to lose himself in. It would help pass the time and, God willing, drown out the anxiety building in his chest as they drew closer to the place he'd tried so hard to escape.
"Michael," his mother's voice cut through the silence, pausing him just as he was about to put in his earbuds. "Are you feeling any better?"
She threw him a concerned glance as she steered the car along the zigzagging road that led to Fallen Falls. Still fresh in her mind was the violence in his reaction when Maximus had told him of their return to their former home town. The guilt of not telling him herself weighed heavily on her shoulders. She had expected such a response, which was why she'd kept it from him. His eventual agreement to come had surprised her even more. She had been prepared to leave him at home alone, imagining him curled up on the couch, lost in his own world. He really seemed to want to say some final farewell to Grandpa William despite the obvious angst that it caused in him.
"Yeah," he muttered, his face reddening in embarrassment from the earlier emotional display. His fingers drummed upon the cord of his earbuds. "Must be a stomach bug or something."
His mother nodded, not furthering the argument, knowing full well her son was just dodging the question. "Don't worry too much, okay?" She tried to make her voice as reassuring as possible, though she felt far from confident herself. "We're only staying a day or two before heading back."
Her words didn't help; they only seemed to make him want to burrow further into his chair, the leather creaking protestingly as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He just wanted to get through it. And the funeral. He was supposed to go, in gratitude to this old man who was there when it meant something most. This was his only chance for a proper goodbye before returning to his own struggles, to the life he'd built far away from the shadows of his past.
The only sounds in the car were the soft rustle of pages as Maximus flipped through his comic book in the backseat. MC stared out the window, the familiar landscape rolling by. The old oak at Miller's Corner, its branches bare now in the chill of winter. The rusted playground equipment in the park where he had spent so many summer afternoons. With each glimpse came a wave of remembrance: some fond, others painful.
"Why isn't dad with us?" Maximus finally asked, voicing a question MC had been pondering himself. "Doesn't he want to go to the funeral?"
Mom looked in the rearview mirror at Maximus with that look with which MC knew only too well-the "not now" look. Out loud, she only said, "Of course not, he is coming once he finishes up his work," she explained, her knuckles whitening slightly on the steering wheel. "Don't take it to heart so much, my sunshine."
That was enough to get Maximus back to his reading, but not before he threw a question at MC-to which he dreaded the answer. "Why did you even leave town in the first place?"
MC kept his mouth shut, the muscles in his jaw clenching. How to explain to Maximus that his hometown had wanted his head on a stake? How to explain the whispers that follow him down hallways at school, sideways glances from people who'd known him his whole life? The weight of secrets and shame driving him away.
"We wanted to move into town for more opportunities," their mother replied, letting MC off the heavy backstory. Her voice was clear, but MC picked up the light quiver in her voice, the resonance of old pain.
MC finally put in both earbuds, turned, and looked out the window. It had been five years since he had last seen Fallen Falls' streets. Everything was just as he remembered: frozen in time, like a photograph. In one instant, he almost forgot he was en route to the last place on earth that welcomed him. The familiarity was comforting and terrifying.
But the illusion was short-lived. As they approached the center of town, MC's gaze fell upon some teenagers hanging around outside the old ice cream parlor. His heartbeat quickened as, without thinking, he slumped down into his seat to get out of sight. The town maybe hadn't, but he would bet his last dollar the people hadn't either. The quick movement brought both his mom's and Maximus's heads around.
"That does not look like a boy who left in search of greener pastures," Maximus said, peering out of the window to see what MC was hiding from. His tone of voice sounded curious, while at the same time judged him in that tone. "What are you running away from? Those kids? I'm not surprised you being a nerd got bullied."
"Maximus," his mother growled, sharp as glass. "Don't say that about your brother."
"I don't need to," Maximus said, crossing his arms. "He just looks like the type."
A low growl of annoyance rumbled through his throat, and MC felt that he really had taken a wrong turn getting back here. It seemed like the screaming of fibers in his body were telling him to run, run straight into the open arms of their new house. He just couldn't do it, owed as it was-first and foremost-to Grandpa William, perhaps also somewhat to himself to see his ghosts laid low.
As they drove deeper into town, MC couldn't help but notice the little changes. A fresh coat of paint on the library, a "For Sale" sign in front of old Mrs. Henderson's house. Life had moved on without him, yet the weight of his history here weighed upon his chest, hard to breathe.
He closed his eyes and centered himself. He could do this. It was just a day or two. Just long enough to say goodbye to the man who had been more of a grandfather to him than his own. Just long enough to prove to himself that the past couldn't hurt him anymore. At least, that's what he kept telling himself as the car wound its way through the streets of Fallen Falls, bringing him closer to the confrontation he'd been dreading for five long years.
…
The familiar weathered farmhouse loomed ahead, standing proud and tall despite its origins in the 1940s. Its white clapboard siding shone in the thin winter sun, a fresh coat of paint disguising the age of the structure. The wraparound porch, with peeling wicker chairs and cushions faded by summer suns, spoke of lazy summer evenings spent in quiet talk. For MC, every detail was like a blow, reminding him of the life he'd left behind, the memories he'd tried so desperately to bury.
As they drew closer, the gravel driveway crunched beneath the tires, a tall, lean figure materialized in the doorway. Eva, William's daughter, stood framed by the entrance, her silhouette a stark contrast against the warm light spilling from inside. Surprise flickered in her eyes as she recognized them, a complex mix of emotions playing across her face. Without hesitation, she ran towards the car, her boots kicking up small clouds of dust.
"Charlotte!" she exclaimed, her voice dripping with warmth and affection. The years melted away as she hugged MC's mother, the two women clinging to each other like lifelines in a storm. "I'm so glad you're here. My father would be so pleased."
"I know," his mother returned, sincerity laced in her tone. Her hands rubbed Eva's back in circles, a touch so achingly familiar that it sent a pang rising up into MC's chest. "I am really sorry for your loss, Eva. William was. he was a good man."
It was such a sweet reunion that it could bring anyone to tears. The bond between the two women, forged through years of shared experiences and mutual support, was palpable. But the moment of warmth didn't last long. As Eva's gaze shifted, landing on MC, the atmosphere changed perceptibly.
Eva smiled croakily, unsaid feelings tracing in her gaze. There lay hurt in it, and a disappointment that did possibly flicker towards anger. The MC instinctively knew that he had really screwed things up-slamming the breaks five years before, his rapid departure had created wounds that never could truly heal.
"Good to see you, Micheal Conner," Eva greeted politely but decidedly not with as much warmth as she'd spared for his mother. Using the full name did indeed raise an unseen barrier.
MC could only nod in return, not finding his voice to say anything. Guilt laced itself upon his skin as sure as the cold nipped at his exposed skin. He tugged his hoodie down even farther, trying to hide his face, to shield himself from the weight of Eva's gaze.
Eager for the awkwardness to pass, Eva finally addressed Maximus, who had been fidgeting impatiently by the car. The boy perked up, finally happy for some attention in this unfamiliar situation.
"And who is this?" Eva asked, her tone softening as she addressed MC's mother. There was genuine curiosity in her voice, tinged with surprise. "I don't recall you having another child, Charlotte."
"Oh, he's from my second marriage," she said, pride trickling into her voice. "He was with Ron when we started to see each other. Blended families-you know how it is these days."
Eva nodded, understanding, her eyes scanning Maximus. It made sense-the boy's very blonde hair, for one, neither of which she knew Charlotte or Micheal had. A small smile danced at the corners of her mouth, genuine this time. "I'm glad you found happiness again, Charlotte. You deserve it."
"Hello, my name is Maximus," he interrupted with a wide beam in his voice, like that fetching smile which always warmed up teachers and classmates in the motherland. "Nice to meet you, Ms. Eva."
Eva seemed taken by the child's good manners, some of the tension in her body easing. "Well, aren't you a little gentleman," she said, mussing Maximus's hair. Then, taking in the sight of the shivering family, she jerked her head toward the house. "Come on, it's freezing out here. Let's go inside where it's warm."
"Of course," Charlotte replied, picking up her purse and a small overnight bag. "It's really good to see you again, Eva. Despite the circumstances."
"Likewise," Eva replied as she walked them towards the house. The steps to the old porch creaked with every weight that was laid upon it, sending a sudden shiver of times gone by into MC's blood. "The funeral is at 8:30. We can catch up properly once you're all settled."
MC trailed after her, his feet heavy with the past and all that might lie ahead. He entered through the door to the farmhouse; just like stepping through a time capsule into another phase of his life that he had gone to such huge lengths to put out of his mind, enveloped in an onslaught of scents so familiar in times past-cinnamon and old wood. Now surrounded by ghosts of times past, MC must admit that returning now was probably quite a terrible idea.
The soft thud of the door as it closed behind them sealed them inside. For better or worse, they were here now. The next few days would compel MC to face everything he'd run from-the pain, the guilt, and the unresolved feelings that had haunted him for the last five years. The sound of quiet conversation filled the entryway as MC steeled himself for what was to come. Time to face the music.
Inside, the house was like a time capsule: antiques everywhere, which Eva had always liked collecting. The air was thick with the smell of old wood and polish, a fragrance that took MC back to his childhood. He often wondered why Eva never opened her own antique shop, as she was both passionate and knowledgeable about it. She had once spoken of retaining the pieces for her personal use, a thing which at the time he had dismissed, but could now appreciate better the comfort of being surrounded by familiar objects.
As MC followed the group, his gaze meandered over each item carefully selected to form part of this collection. It was a tapestry of history-ornate vases from far-off lands, intricate watches that had ticked through moments of untold numbers, even the old, wooden case of jewelry that MC had always been so convinced housed some sort of evil spirit. It seemed as though each one of them whispered stories from the past-some soothing, others unsettling.
His eyes stopped on a blue and white marble bowl he did not know. The piece was beautiful, its swirls of color like the Roman mosaic glass bowls he had studied in art history class. "When did you get this?" The words tumbled from his mouth before he could catch them, breaking the silence.
The conversation screeched to a halt, and all eyes turned to him. MC felt the sudden urge to disappear, to melt into the antique-laden shelves behind him. Why had he spoken? He tried to backpedal, to explain, but his voice failed him.
"I mean." He finally managed, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don't recall seeing this here before."
His face burnt with embarrassment and shame as the heat crawled up his neck into his cheeks. Much to his surprise, Eva's expression softened, and she answered his question.
Scrunched up, her face showed traces of sorrow, which seemed to age her years in that instant. She replied, "We got it not long after." Her voice trailed off, leaving the rest unsaid. But that was what told MC more than words could say.
"I know," he said quietly, hoping this was the end of the conversation. There was also a chill of guilt that tightened in his chest, hard to breathe. "We can go forward."
Eva brightened them on to the living room, excusing herself while she prepared some warm drinks. MC's mother offered to help, which left Maximus and MC alone in the room, so well-known yet alien.
MC flung himself onto the long sofa, as if to bury himself in its cushions and disappear. He'd blown it-he'd definitely ruined the fragile mood. The embarrassment overwhelmed him, was made worse by the realization that he'd dragged Eva back into painful memories, when he himself was still suffering from the aftermath of those events. Who was he to inflict that pain?
"Oh my God!" Maximus's excited voice cut through MC's self-loathing, drawing his attention to the bookshelf. "I can't believe it!"
"Shut it, pipsqueak," MC growled, not in the mood for Maximus's enthusiasm. "I'm suffering here."
Undeterred, Maximus continued, his eyes wide with excitement, "They have all the 'Survive or Dive!' series all the way up to the latest volume 15!
That made MC look up from the sofa, his curiosity momentarily overriding his misery. Maximus wasn't exaggerating. The entire collection stood proudly on the shelf, their spines a colorful testament to adventures MC had long since abandoned. It surprised him that the family had kept collecting the series. It would appear they didn't stop reading it as he did. Then again, it was himself who'd been robbed of everything precious in his life. Books lined the shelves, casting a spell of forgotten times-a mixture of longing and regret. It made him wonder what happened to all of those characters he used to be so familiar with. How had their stories continued without him?
"Hey MC," called Maximus, suddenly sounding very serious. "Why does it seem like that woman has a grudge against you?"
MC scrunched up his face, unable to help himself. Maximus always had a knack for asking the most uncomfortable questions at the worst possible moments. "Isn't it obvious?" he muttered, burying his face in the sofa cushions. "I ruined their lives."
Maximus frowned, clearly unsatisfied with the vague answer. "That still doesn't answer my question. What did you do that ruined their lives?"
Before MC could say a thing, Eva and their mother came back with trays that held steaming cups of tea. The instantly familiar scent wafted through the room, a bittersweet indication of times long gone and remembered. MC sat up properly now, taking a cup from his mother's hands. The warmth of the porcelain in his hands did indeed feel comforting, but little it did for the easing of his shoulder muscles, which were so tightly knotted, or to quiet the maelstrom of emotions inside.
The others settled into easy conversation, while MC found himself drifting onto the sea of memories and regrets. The clock above the mantel ticked away the minutes until funeral time. What was he going to do until then? How could he face the ghosts of his past when he could barely face himself in the mirror? It seemed like these questions, along with so many others, would have to go unanswered for now.
"Eva, we are home," a gravelly voice called out as the front door opened with a heavy thud.
MC felt himself being sucked into the sofa, wanting the worn fabric to swallow him up. Footsteps came down the hallway-one, two, three-her approach was some kind of count down to unavoidable confrontation.
Three figures stepped into the living room. The first thing they saw was Charlotte, and for a fleeting instant, their faces relaxed at the sight of her. Then their eyes moved to MC, and the air in the room seemed to chill a good few degrees. Their gazes were as sharp as broken glass, laden with hate and betrayal, and a barely restrained anger that sent MC's skin crawling.
Jake stood at the center, flanked by his father and older brother Jacob. The faces were the same-cold, unforgiving-looking at MC as if he was something toxic that needed to be eradicated.
MC really did regret coming back here.
The silence was deafening with all the unspoken accusations, all these years of pain. He felt their silent judgment weighing upon him, and such a weight was heavier than any physical restraint.
This was going to be a long night.