11: Cloven

“Let her go, Damian!” I shouted as I got to the crest of the bridge.

We were facing each other so high above the river I could have sworn there was a mile of air under us. I could see everything from this point of view, with the wind whipping against my face and the air numbingly cold.

My aunt and uncle had come up here once for a date. I’d never been here. Standing on the sidewalk of the bridge, I felt closer to my death than ever. On the one side, metal beasts roared past. On the other, a drop into nothingness, a drop into death. Either way I turned, there was one slip between me and the Grim Reaper.

“Why?” he asked with a sneer. All pretense of politeness was gone. “She came with me! She chose me!”

“Ayva.” I reached out a hand to her. “Come back home. Everyone’s so worried.”

“We will go back,” she said, staring out over the railing at the river so far below. It might as well have been an ocean. “But first we have to look around. Then I’ll go get my Wii.”

Damian put a hand on her back and I gasped. He pushed her and then pushed with both hands and soon she was flying over the edge of the railing towards her death.

Ignoring my wild imagination, I blinked, erasing the image. The hand was still there on her back, and she was fine. She was smiling.

“Come back now,” said Damian. He moved the hand to her shoulder and pulled her back. “We have to stay away from the edge. Don’t want to… tipsy over.”

“But if you’re near the edge, you can see better,” she said and tried to pull away from his hand.

I had another image of him throwing her backwards into the rushing traffic and her body being crushed, contorted, and thrown up into the air. I shook my head violently, erasing the image.

“Something wrong?” asked Damian, grinning. Ayva was back at the edge.

“Why are you doing this?” I asked. “Why are you tormenting me? I want to forget about you! I want everything to be normal. Everything can be-”

He raised a hand. “This is no time for preaching. I can barely hear what you say, anyways. All this wind.” He motioned his arms around. “Pretty wild today. Makes you almost just… slip right over the edge.”

I stared at him with hatred clear on my face. My blood was on fire, and every bit of me wanted to attack the beast. In that moment, I forgot who it was standing across from me. In that moment, there was only Damian, not Abigail and not Xavier.

“Come on.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Push me over.”

“No.”

“Why not?” He grinned. “Scared your girlfriend won’t like you anymore? Or… or maybe you’re scared she won’t even…” -he let out a fake gasp- “see you? Ever! Just… washed away. By life, of course. Not the ocean. Your girlfriend-”

“Are you talking about Abigail?” asked Ayva suddenly. She looked up at Damian. “The girl you told me about?”

He glared at her. “Shut. Up.”

“But you haven’t told Caleb, yet,” Abigail said. “He deserves to know, too. I almost told him about it last night but decided not to.”

“I know about Abigail,” I said through clenched teeth without looking at her. “But why do you?”

“Damian taught me about her. And about Xavier, too.” Ayva threw her head back and giggled as she watched the clouds; her hair swirled all around her face. “Damian teaches me about everything. I know even more than you now. I know secrets. Things you can only dream of. He’s been teaching me for so long.”

“What have you told her?” I took a threatening step towards him. “What did you tell her, you son of-”

He snapped his fingers to cut me off and laughed.

“What did you tell her?” I growled.

He shrugged, but didn’t step back. I was going to make him regret that.

“Hold on!” He put his hands up as I raised a fist. “Can’t we just have a nice, civil talk? Like gentlemen?”

“There’s nothing gentle about you.”

He grinned. “That sounded sexual.”

“Go to Hell.”

Abigail turned to face us again. Our noses were a few inches apart as she stared at us, bewildered. “What’s Hell?”

I began, “It’s where this-”

“It’s just a place,” said Damian, cutting off my words. “A bad place. You don’t wanna go there.”

“Are you from there?” she asked Damian.

“No.”

“Yes,” I said.

“What would happen if I jumped off?” asked Ayva. She was staring out across the river again. “Would I die?”

“Yes,” answered Damian. “But it’d be quick. Easy. A woman did it a few weeks ago. Remember that story in the paper, Caleb? She jumped. Right off. It was at nighttime, so nobody saw her.” He smiled wickedly, but I could see gloominess behind it. The grin faded and he was left with a depressed expression. “Almost nobody.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

He sighed. “I …”

“You were with her?”

He nodded. “I was standing where you are.” He backed up a pace. “She was here. We talked. She was curious to know about me. She laughed. I told her my story, all of it. More than even you know.” Damian bowed his head. “She jumped. So I walked away.”

“Why didn’t you tell the police?” I asked. “Maybe they… I don’t know. They should just know about that kind of stuff.”

“What are the police good for?” he asked with a dry laugh. “They’re looking for Ayva and we’ve been standing on a bridge for three hours. And they don’t even know. Haven’t seen us or anything. How’s that for the police?” He spat the last word.

“They only just got the call an hour or so ago. My aunt did it herself.”

“What!” He pounded a fist into his hand. “They’re coming? Now? Of all times. They’ve been called? Well… ugh Caleb. You ruined everything. I had a plan!” He stepped towards me. “You always ruin everything!”

I stepped away nervously, trying to reach for Ayva’s hand but missing. “What the heck? What’s wrong?”

“I had a plan! A whole, elaborate plan and it was beautiful and it was perfect and there was nobody to stop it. I was like a god! But I can’t do that now. Not now that the police know. They’ve seen us. I’m sure. They probably have cameras on this bridge or something. Right now! Who knows? Maybe the next car that passes is a cop, coming to arrest me.”

“Arrest you?” I asked. “What for?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Kidnappings. Stealing. Murder. Take your pick.”

“Murder?” I exclaimed. “Who did… What?”

He grinned and reached out a hand for Ayva.

“Ayva!” I shouted instantly. “Come here!”

She turned and stared at me with a strange expression. “You two are yelling a lot. It makes it hard to watch the birds.”

“What birds?” I asked. It was a clear sky. There were no birds. “No, never mind. Come here!”

Damian put another hand on her and moved so quickly it took my breath away.

They were hugging. “I’m not going to kill her,” he said. “Don’t worry. I don’t want her to die.”

He looked down at Ayva and she stared into his eyes. There was such love in her own, such trust that she felt, I found it hard to pull her away. But I stepped forward.

“Get back!” Damian snarled. “We’re talking.”

“Damian?” she asked quietly. “Why can’t Caleb see the birds?”

“Only you can see the birds, Ayva. You’re special. You’re unique. You’re different.” He pinched her cheek. “Don’t ever forget that.”

“Special, unique, different, and free,” she said. “Right?”

“Right. Especially free.”

There was a moment of silence when Damian seemed to wrestle with something in his thoughts.

“Thinking is hard,” Ayva commented.

“Agreed.” He sighed. “Ayva, do you want to fly? You’re free, now. You can fly if you want.”

“Fly with the birds?” She grinned so widely I almost did as well.

“Fly with the birds.”

She nodded to him. “I want to fly with the birds.”

He wrapped his arms around her in one last hug, this time tighter than before. Now her feet were leaving the ground and she was giggling and grinning. Then his shoulders shifted and she was completely supported by him. His arms lowered and swung. Then she was flying through the air. Over the barrier.

I tried to scream as she left his arms, her laughs cascading like waterfalls as she followed her downward path.

All I could see was the river as she hit it roughly, a silent splash. I thought he would push me over too. Instead, he pulled me back so I could see the wicked grin on his face.

Then he hit me and I smacked against the sidewalk, out cold.

<><><><><>

I got back home later that day, nearly midnight. On the way home from the police station, I sat in complete silence, having spent the last four hours answering questions and being probed for more information.

I hadn’t cried, not yet. That would come later.

Immediately after waking up, I felt a terrible throbbing in my head and the world spun. When I couldn’t walk straight, my aunt took me to the hospital, where they announced I had a slight concussion. Every thought hurt, and I imagined I looked like hell, sitting in the hospital, shaking visibly and wishing I could sleep. Sleep fixes everything, at least for a few hours. And then it doesn’t.

There was a fog layering everything in my world. When my uncle arrived, I barely noticed. Once he actually came and spoke to me, I didn’t answer. I nodded when necessary, shook my head when appropriate, and followed the typical script for someone who has to answer but doesn’t want to. But none of my own words came out of my mouth. It’s too hard to talk when you can’t even think.

“What happened at the bridge?” the police had asked me as soon as we were seated. There wasn’t much around us. Bland, gray walls around a stone-cold table. There were chains near my ankles. A part of me wished they would capture me, bind me. Prison was a nice place compared to facing the truth.

The memories hurt worse than the concussion. Going through every aspect of my meeting with Damian led me down that lane again. I always hated bad memories. When I was younger, I’d googled to see if there was a surgery to remove them. Dad found out. Yelled at me. Mom found out. Kissed me.

Memories were like going through everything again. As I spoke, I remembered more. Before I knew it, I was telling them a story I couldn’t remember, and yet I could recite it perfectly, as if it was my own life. As I spoke, it came back to me. As I spoke, everything felt real. I didn’t want to answer any of their questions at first. But my uncle told me I had to. I obliged.

“So you’re saying he threw her off?” a large, heartless cop asked me. “She showed no previous signs of suicidal tendencies?”

“Ayva didn’t kill herself,” I growled. “He did. You should be looking for him. That son of-”

“And were you well acquainted with this… Damian character?”

I shook my head. “Only met him a few times around town.”

“This little girl had seen him before, or no?”

“Yes. She had. We met once or twice on the street. I don’t remember exactly.”

The bald man nodded and scribbled something onto his notepad. “Do you know any potential hiding spots for this person? Any clue where he might have run off to?”

“I thought the police were supposed to ‘look for clues.’ I’m not doing your job for you.” I didn’t break eye contact as he returned my irritated expression.

In reality, I knew exactly where Damian had gone. I’d gotten a text earlier as I sat in my aunt’s car on the way to the police station which explained it all. Where he’d gone, what he’d done after he knocked me out.

Abigail: Hey. I woke up this morning in some alleyway wearing guy clothes. It’s been awhile since that’s happened. Normally I make it back home. I just wanted to ask if you saw me yesterday? I mean if you saw Damian. I don’t know. I’ve got lots of scratches and stuff and I found some candy in my pocket that I don’t remember buying? Did I steal it? Did I mention anything to you?

Caleb: I didn’t see Damian. Candy’s probably just something he bought or I don’t know. A gift. Don’t worry about it.

A: Okay thanks :) You’re a really good friend. Maybe we can go to a movie this weekend?

I didn’t answer her text. Going to the movies was the last thing I wanted to do at that moment.

The policeman informed me that they still hadn’t found Ayva’s body, and they had no idea where Damian was. I was to alert them if he contacted me in any way, shape, or form, and even if I just saw him passing on the street.

“Sure,” I said as he walked out, “but don’t expect him to contact me.”

“I don’t know what to expect of him,” the policeman said. “For all I know, you’re just making this kid up.”

Sometimes I wondered if I was just making this kid up.

I went to my bed as soon as I walked into my house. There was nobody I wanted to talk to, and nothing could ease my anxiety and confusion over the situation.

We had just rekindled our friendship. Things were finally going in our favor. I truly loved Abigail. I desperately hated Damian. Damian had killed Ayva. Abigail had been my best friend. She still was my best friend.

That’s when I got the text.

A: So about that movie?

C: Sure. Let’s do it. I don’t care what we see, just text me the time and I’ll be there.

A: Alrighty :) So excited. I’ll see you then. Gotta find a way to sneak outta the house.

C: Yeah. See ya. Gnight

Sometimes it felt like my life was a movie. There was so much drama; my injured, baffled brain couldn’t take any more of it. It was a decision I would probably regret. I knew it would have lasting consequences. But I’d made up my mind.

It would all go down at the movies.

**Author's Note**

In this book, the story of Ayva is not explored any farther. To Caleb, she is dead and soon just a memory. But is she truly dead? There's only one way to find out.

 To discover the answer, you'll have to buy the book "My Other Friends" on Amazon.com. It's only 99 cents, so it won't cost you hardly anything :) Here's a link if you're interested:

http://www.amazon.com/Other-Friends-Collected-Scary-Stories-ebook/dp/B01DLGQD28/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8