"Where am I?" Tom asked the man.
Jason was huddling against a tombstone; he could see blood was coming along the side of his neck from the wound he had sustained from the tombstone when he opened the casket. He has yet to get his bearings on reality, yet to know what is going on here. Right now, less than two feet in front of him was a boy who he just helped to get out of a coffin.A COFFIN!!! Was he losing his mind, it must have been the heroin from years past coming back creeping up on him.
"I'm real Jason" Tom said to him. Jason looked at the boy, not believing this could be real. Who would have thought this kid, this boy, can be here, living, breathing right in front of him. He feels faint, but the boys warm hand touches his own, and Jason looks down, not thinking of pulling away.
"Who are you?" Jason asks him.
"My name is Tom."
"How did you end up in there?"
Tom looks away for a second, back towards his grave, then comes back and looks at Jason. Tears have started to run down his cheek.
"I.I.diiieeeeddd." was the only two words out of his mouth before running into Jason, his arms outstretched. Jason didn't know what to do, hesitantly putting his arms around little boy. Tom was warm to his touch, like a normal boy, not like the zombies you see in the late night horror movies. He was real, flesh and blood, crying on his shoulder.
"I wish I knew what to say," Jason whispered into the crying boy's ear. "I wish I had some answers for you, something comforting, but I don't."
Tom looked up at Jason, tears streaking down from his youthful face. He looked like he was going to cry some more, but then used the sleeve of his tuxedo and wiped away the tears from along his cheek.
"I want my mom. Can you help me get to her?"
Jason looks away, not sure how to respond. Here is a boy asking for his help, yet he couldn't help himself. He lived in a graveyard, barely ate, didn't care for himself, yet is being asked by a dead boy to help him get home.
He wanted to refuse, and was going to, but it was at that moment the little boy took his hand and changed all of that. Looking down, he saw the boy, Tom, looking back up into at him. His tears were gone, his touch was warm, and if he was dead, that was in the past for this boy here is surely alive.
"Ok, I'll help you. Where do you live?"
Tom thought for a second, then answered. "Off of West Canal Street."
"That's not that far away. We can be there in about 10 minutes."
He watched as Tom's face lit up, eager to move.
They walked out of the graveyard and down the street, towards Devon heading towards West Canal. With each step Tom got more excited, eager to be getting closer to home. He didn't open up anymore, remained quiet the whole time. Jason had looked to the sky several times, trying to find the crow that had left the graveyard to follow them. He heard the rustling of feathers above him, but couldn't see it due to it's black color.
It was a couple of minutes later when they came upon West Canal, then two houses down the road was Tom's. He walked briskly towards it, then the last 20 feet he slowed down some before coming to stop before the fence.
"I'm home" he said, his head turning back to look at Jason. "I'm home."
Jason didn't know what to say, was puzzled as to what to do next.
"I'm going to go now," Tom said to him. "You can come in if you want, my mom won't mind." When he saw him protesting, Tom begged.
Jason couldn't take that, so he turned around and came back towards Tom, then they both walked back to the house and towards the front door. Tom tried to open the door but it was locked. He knocked twice, then waited, then knocked again twice. The door started to open. Tom turned around, hoping to see his mom's smiling face, but instead was greeted by an elderly man standing there, looking down at him.
"Can I help you two?" his quivering voice spoke into the night.
Tom looked frightened, not knowing what to do or say.
"This boy is looking for his mom that lives here," Jason said in Tom's place.
"I live alone, bought the house with my retirement money several years ago," the elderly man said.
Tears were flowing down Tom's face. Disbelief was apparent to all who were staring at him.
"That is not true, I just saw her a couple of days ago.She was outside with me, playing ball before I had run in the street.She is here she has to be, where."
"Young man," the old man interrupted, "I know who you are talking about, but she hasn't lived here in years, at least 8 years. She left after her son had died in an horrible hit-and-run accident."
Tom turned around, came to Jason. He put his arms around the boy, not sure what to do next. The old man kept on talking, but they didn't hear. He held Tom as they walked down the street and away from the past, with Jason not sure what to do from here on out.
Jason was huddling against a tombstone; he could see blood was coming along the side of his neck from the wound he had sustained from the tombstone when he opened the casket. He has yet to get his bearings on reality, yet to know what is going on here. Right now, less than two feet in front of him was a boy who he just helped to get out of a coffin.A COFFIN!!! Was he losing his mind, it must have been the heroin from years past coming back creeping up on him.
"I'm real Jason" Tom said to him. Jason looked at the boy, not believing this could be real. Who would have thought this kid, this boy, can be here, living, breathing right in front of him. He feels faint, but the boys warm hand touches his own, and Jason looks down, not thinking of pulling away.
"Who are you?" Jason asks him.
"My name is Tom."
"How did you end up in there?"
Tom looks away for a second, back towards his grave, then comes back and looks at Jason. Tears have started to run down his cheek.
"I.I.diiieeeeddd." was the only two words out of his mouth before running into Jason, his arms outstretched. Jason didn't know what to do, hesitantly putting his arms around little boy. Tom was warm to his touch, like a normal boy, not like the zombies you see in the late night horror movies. He was real, flesh and blood, crying on his shoulder.
"I wish I knew what to say," Jason whispered into the crying boy's ear. "I wish I had some answers for you, something comforting, but I don't."
Tom looked up at Jason, tears streaking down from his youthful face. He looked like he was going to cry some more, but then used the sleeve of his tuxedo and wiped away the tears from along his cheek.
"I want my mom. Can you help me get to her?"
Jason looks away, not sure how to respond. Here is a boy asking for his help, yet he couldn't help himself. He lived in a graveyard, barely ate, didn't care for himself, yet is being asked by a dead boy to help him get home.
He wanted to refuse, and was going to, but it was at that moment the little boy took his hand and changed all of that. Looking down, he saw the boy, Tom, looking back up into at him. His tears were gone, his touch was warm, and if he was dead, that was in the past for this boy here is surely alive.
"Ok, I'll help you. Where do you live?"
Tom thought for a second, then answered. "Off of West Canal Street."
"That's not that far away. We can be there in about 10 minutes."
He watched as Tom's face lit up, eager to move.
They walked out of the graveyard and down the street, towards Devon heading towards West Canal. With each step Tom got more excited, eager to be getting closer to home. He didn't open up anymore, remained quiet the whole time. Jason had looked to the sky several times, trying to find the crow that had left the graveyard to follow them. He heard the rustling of feathers above him, but couldn't see it due to it's black color.
It was a couple of minutes later when they came upon West Canal, then two houses down the road was Tom's. He walked briskly towards it, then the last 20 feet he slowed down some before coming to stop before the fence.
"I'm home" he said, his head turning back to look at Jason. "I'm home."
Jason didn't know what to say, was puzzled as to what to do next.
"I'm going to go now," Tom said to him. "You can come in if you want, my mom won't mind." When he saw him protesting, Tom begged.
Jason couldn't take that, so he turned around and came back towards Tom, then they both walked back to the house and towards the front door. Tom tried to open the door but it was locked. He knocked twice, then waited, then knocked again twice. The door started to open. Tom turned around, hoping to see his mom's smiling face, but instead was greeted by an elderly man standing there, looking down at him.
"Can I help you two?" his quivering voice spoke into the night.
Tom looked frightened, not knowing what to do or say.
"This boy is looking for his mom that lives here," Jason said in Tom's place.
"I live alone, bought the house with my retirement money several years ago," the elderly man said.
Tears were flowing down Tom's face. Disbelief was apparent to all who were staring at him.
"That is not true, I just saw her a couple of days ago.She was outside with me, playing ball before I had run in the street.She is here she has to be, where."
"Young man," the old man interrupted, "I know who you are talking about, but she hasn't lived here in years, at least 8 years. She left after her son had died in an horrible hit-and-run accident."
Tom turned around, came to Jason. He put his arms around the boy, not sure what to do next. The old man kept on talking, but they didn't hear. He held Tom as they walked down the street and away from the past, with Jason not sure what to do from here on out.