Begginings End

Reegan opened his eyes to October 31st , 2022. Just as he had every night for the last twelve years. He yawned contently, putting his little hand over his mouth as his ceiling came into focus. Looking up, a sea of green encompassed his vision. Every second or so, a white blur would cut across the green as his over head fan slowly rotated above him. closing his eyes the boy smiled at the feeling of the breeze on his face.

Just as he did so, light poured in through his window and washed over his face. “Funny” Reegan thought, “Mom usually wakes me up before the sun rises.” Yawning, he stretched his arms over his head and sat up, swinging his feet over the side of the bed. His legs only reached halfway to the carpet as he let the dangle. He looked out over his room.

On the walls were a few scattered posters showing smiling faces of Reagan's favorite baseball players and scenes from his favorite movies. An old ball glove sat perched on top of a wooden bat, leaned up against a laundry basket overflowing with dirty clothes his mother had been bothering him to run through the wash for a few days.

Feeling the soft carpet squish between his toes, the boy stood and began walking towards his door. Small as he was, when he got to his destination, He had to reach up above his head and wrap both his hands around the broze handle. It was cool in his palm as he pushed the door open. The hinges made a soft squeek and Reegan found himself staring down a dark staircase.

Perhaps his mother had overslept. Reegan knew she had been up late last night studying. She had a grown up school test coming up, he remembered. Reegan had caught her and Dad arguing about it last week. Hearing some shouting down stairs, Reegan had gone down to see what the noise was about.

He found his parents standing face to face, flailing their arms and yelling at one another. They both looked scary. A vein popped out of his fathers neck and his mothers eyes shown with an intensity Reegan had only seen a few times before. Dad was mad that mom was studying so much.

“The house is a mess! And i never see you!” He screamed, towering over her, “I understand you want to live out this fantasy of yours, make up for lost time or whatever, But I don’t need a lawyer in the house. I just need the house clean and the kid fed”

Mom was having none of it, her blue eyes blazed as she spat, “I don’t give a damn what you need! I am so sick about everything in this world having to cater to you!”
Reegans father stepped even closer to his wife, now looking straight down on her, chest to chest. “What are you gonna do then, huh?” He chided, “I’m the only person in the world you’re worth anything to. Single mother at 22. Tell me something. What guy our age who isn’t married already wants to date a girl with a kid?”

Reegan could tell those words had stung his mother. She looked down and didn’t say anything for a long time. He thought he could see her chest shaking as her breaths jaggedly drew in and out. Reegan did not know it at the time, but the words she quietly whispered next would stay with him for the rest of his life.

“If it wasn’t for Reegan...I’d.” Her eyes wandered around the room and widened as they found her only son standing in the entryway. “Reegan, sweetie!” She said, forcing a smile and putting on her best happy voice. “Mommy and daddy were just having a little disagreement is all...Go back to bed, sunshine, You have school tomorrow.”

Staring down staircase weeks later, Reegan shouted. “Mom. Are you up? I’m going to be late for school!” The voice that echoed back at him was not his mothers. Instead his father's voice reached him. The tone of it made Reegan nervous. He sounded out of breath and like he had been crying. His words seemed to squeak out of his throat through a tight opening. Reegan had never heard him so worried.

“Reegan? Stay...Just stay up there, okay? Stay upstairs.” He said

“Are you okay, Dad? Whats wrong?” Said Reegan. The child was concerned now. Everything about this morning seemed just a little bit off.

“Nothing is Wrong! Just do what I say!” His father was angry. Reegan didn’t know what to do. He always made a habit of not provoking his father's rage. Life was easier that way. But everything in his little mind was telling him that something was wrong. After a moment's hesitation, he slid back into his room and closed the door behind him with a clunk. Leaning on the door, Reegan gently tilted his head back until it rested against the wood. Closing his eyes, the boy attempted to collect himself.

BANG. The noise filled Reegans conscious. All encompassing, reverberating, and shrill, it stuck in his ears long after the actual sound had dissipated. Panic taking hold of his heart, he swung door open quickly, pounding down the staircase as fast as his little legs could carry him

“Mom?!” Reegans voice rang, “Dad?!” He reached the bottom of the stairs, wheeling around the corner, his feet slipping on the hardwood as he sprinted towards the Dining room. His entire body locked up when he reached his destination. His face turned ghost white, horror stitched across every inch. Reegans mouth formed a silent scream taunt and curdling, but his horror would not allow the noise to pass his lips. This expression found itself accompanied by mortified blood shot eyes, unable to fully comprehend what they had seen.

Reegans mother sat in a kitchen chair facing him. Black hair cascaded over slender round shoulders. Her back was slightly arched and her body formed a somewhat slumped posture and her head layed slumped to the left, the temple resting on her shoulder. The eyes she possessed looked, but they did not see. Instead they stared blankly into Reegans soul. The spark that had comforted him on so many occasions was no longer present.

Blood splattered across her favorite white blouse, three large swaths of crimson marred the fabric. Two of the wounds were across her petite abdomen. A third gash found its home on the right shoulder. Across her neck was a thick red line. A miniature cascade of dried blood trailed away from the injury, covering her collar and front with a color not unlike that of rust. Still her eyes stared forward.

Nearer to him sat his father. The mans large frame held in it no life. Forehead resting on the table, his arms dangled limply. The smell of gun smoke filled the air as Reegan saw the gory hole placed where his right temple should be. On the tile floor, in a pool of blood just out of the reach of his father's dangling finger tips, lay a small caliber handgun.

Before Reagan could Scream his vision began to morph. A wall of haze overtook his sight as the room began to melt in front of him. The walls distorted and warped into a twisted mass before finally, the structure disappeared entirely, fading out of existence.

Reegan stood in an abyss of blackness. Dazed and dismayed, He looked around for any sign of when or where he might be. None came to him. As far as he could see, and in every direction, was only an all encompassing blackness.

Suddenly, before him sprung a bright light, It shone upon a throne. Sparkling white ivory interlaced with gold stripes sparkled as Reegan took in its majesty. The cushion and backrest of the throne were bright red velvet. A voice spoke to him through the void.

“The burden is yours to carry.” The voice Boomed.

“No.” Reegan replied frantically.

But the voice continued to its conclusion, “You cannot run. You cannot hide. It will come.”

Reegan awoke with a jolt. The hum of tires gliding across concrete reached his ears. His heart beat raced as he frantically looked around. Catching himself, and trying not to look insane to the rest of the bus riders, he took three deep breaths. Out the window was a mass of apartment buildings and pathed sidewalks, streaking by in a blur.

“Every damn night” Reagan thought to himself. Feeling a pain in his arm from where he had slept on his backpack, he stretched himself, feeling relief as his muscles tightened and unwound with a satisfying release of tension. With the crink gone, he sighed and pressed his head against the cold glass of the bus window.

“If it wasn’t for Reegan.” He said aloud, no stronger than a whisper.