Chapter 4

Promises From the Past

A small brown haired girl sat all alone in the corner of a dark hospital room. Nothing but the thrumming of life support machines, and the eerie pinging of a heart beat monitor kept her company. The blinds were shut tight as if to keep the death from seeping out. The only light came from a couple fading fluorescent bulbs. A doctor walked in wearing a sterile white coat. A clipboard was clutched in their hands. They kneeled down to meet the girl's eyes, which were swollen from crying.

"Miss Bates, it's time to go now." They said, gently putting a hand on her shoulders, which were much too small for a girl of nine years.

"No." The girl retorted stubbornly. Bits of her dark hair stuck out in odd places. "I'm not leaving."

"I know it's hard-"

"You don't know anything!" The girl shouted. Tears began to spill one by one onto her cheeks. Her shoulders trembled with every sob. "He's my dad I can't…"

"Your mother's in the hallway. She's worried. Let's go see her."

"No! She isn't worried about me. I'm not the one who's dying!" She backed away in horror, realizing what she just said. The heart rate monitor gave one last feeble beep, and a flat dead tone filled the room. The doctor took the girls hand and gently swept her out of the room. She tried to pull away but only managed to stretch her slender fingers towards her father, who would never breath again. "Dad, you promised!" She cried. More tears came. "You promised me you'd beat this!" And the door shut, echoing into foreverness along with the girls choked sobs. The scene dissolved into absolute blackness, like a starless night

My own voice echoed in my head as I regained my senses. I opened my eyes and was greeted by the glare of a fluorescent ceiling light. I realized what I was lying on was a couple waiting room chairs pushed together. The only sound in the quiet office was the scratching of a pen. I sat up, and a small blanket slipped off my lap. William stopped writing and looked at me.

"You're awake." His voice sounded loud in the silent office. "I assume you are alright then?"

"Yes, I… guess I am." I brushed the tip of my fingers over the place where the thing grabbed me. It was still cool to touch. The feeling of its cold dead hands lingered on my skin. "Since when did you care about me?"

"I don't." His answer was as expected. "The board trusted me with your care. I was following orders. My apologies if you got the wrong idea." The Board, every reaper spoke of them, but it seemed not one of them knew who or what they were. It was clear though, that they were not a power to be crossed.

"How about Ronald, is he alright?" I asked, resting my head in my hands.

"Funny that you ask." He said without a hint of joy. "After what you pulled it's a wonder he lived."

"What?" I jumped to my feet. "No! I didn't do anything, we were attacked!"

"I saw for myself Miss Bates. I know very well what happened." His response stunned me like a slap to the face. In all my life, I would never have imagined a person could be so literally blind with arrogance.

"Then you would know that it wasn't me! Those creatures, with red eyes, William, I think they're the ones taking memories!"

"I saw nothing of the sort. Now if you are done with this madness, I have work to do."

"What the hell am I to you?" I cried, my eyes stinging with tears of frustration. "Some sort of scapegoat?" William's eyebrows narrowed. For once his face made an expression other than indifference. He opened his mouth, perhaps to give me an answer, but I didn't want to hear it. I pushed past him into the hallway. He didn't stop me.

Each reaper I passed looked at me with the same expression of disgust and fascination usually reserved for road kill. They readily made way as I passed through the lobby. They probably heard I was a monster, a demon of sorts with uncontrollable powers. I could almost hear it in their whispers. I kept walking, hoping that maybe my feet would carry me home. My mom would be waiting there; ready to listen to whatever I had to tell her. But not even my mom would believe the tale I would have to tell. Not this time.

The glass doors opened in front of me, and through them stepped a reaper I recognized as Alan. He was rather scrawny, and looked more a child than a powerful spiritual being. A book was tucked under his arm, and in his hand was a death scythe that had to be at least a couple feet taller than himself. He extended a hand in greeting, but I stormed past him, rendering it useless.

"Okay." He said, walking beside me now. "We can skip introductions. I'm not too good at them myself."

"It's Alan isn't it?" I asked without bating an eye at him.

"Yes." He said calmly. "Ronald will be out of commission for awhile, so William appointed me to take over his task."

"What happened to him?" I dared to meet his bright green eyes. Somehow they were different from the others, more innocent perhaps, but whatever it was they seemed to calm me. "William mentioned something happened to him at the graveyard, I want to know what it was."

"What I heard was, you were looking at him one second, then the next Ronald was out." Alan replied. "Then something odd happened that not even William seems to understand. There was a big flash of light, and after that, you just collapsed."

"Can you take me to him?" My mouth asked without my brain's permission.

"Of course." He said calmly.

The infirmary was surprisingly small place. The hallways were thin, and much to clean to be natural. The sterile smell almost made me gag. I had never particularly liked hospitals. A nurse in a dress and white apron came up the hall, her leather shoes clacking on the laminate. When she caught sight of us she fled into the nearest doorway. Alan and I were alone in the hallway once more.

"Aren't we supposed to check in or something?" I whispered, although were alone in the silent hallway.

"We don't need to. They seem to know anyways. It's weird but you get used to it." Alan answered. The room Ronald's room was decorated in sterile white, and lacked much furniture other than a bed. It was dark, and the blinds were shut tight. At the far end of the room was the bed where Ronald lay, too deep in sleep to be aware of our presence. Sheets covered his body except for his face, which was paler than normal. His glasses were removed and carefully set on the bedside table.

"He will recover in due time." Alan said, as we approached. "But it frightens me to think of what could do this much damage to a reaper..."

"Hey, Ronald... please wake up." I spoke softly to him, though as I expected there was no response. "They don't believe me. I know, how silly is that?" I saw wet marks appearing on the sheets below me, and was surprised to find that I had been crying this whole time. It struck me, not because it had been so long since the last time I cried, but because I had forgotten what it felt like to cry. Nine years, was too long to not let yourself feel after all... "I... I don't know what to do anymore. You're the only one who can tell them the truth..." I rather suddenly remembered Alan was still in the room. I glanced over at the wall where he was standing. The solemn expression he wore only seemed natural on his face. "Thanks Alan." I said, drying my eyes with my sleeve. "I'm ready to leave now."

"Very well." He sighed, and I knew he was feeling just the same, only I could express it, and he could not. That seemed to be the only fundamental difference between us.

Alan stayed with me when I returned to what was the room Ronald and I once shared. I was supposed to be watched at all times, but I didn't mind if it was only Alan. Eventually though, he agreed to help me with something that'd been on my mind for a while now. After everything that happened, I couldn't help but wonder if this strange power I had could be harnessed. I admit, the first few times, the pencils did hit, and they did hurt, but we worked at it. Eventually I was able to make them drop midair before it could hit me, but at that point it was time for bed.

I lay in my bed, unable to sleep, itching to keep trying tomorrow. Alan was softly snoring above me, and the clock ticking away the seconds until morning. Somewhere down the hall a door opened then closed. Alan stirred but did not wake up. I checked the time. It was only 3:30 in the morning; surely it wasn't shift turn over yet. Who was going out so late? I whipped out of bed, and without putting on shoes, slipped out after them. I followed the bulky blond figure out into the starry-skied night. My bare feet made little sound as they gently slapped against the concrete. The blond stopped as if thinking. I froze in my tracks. I had nowhere to hide. Heart beat quickening, I stood completely still hoping with all my might that they wouldn't turn around. If I was found, if he saw me it would be over.

"I know you're there, you little witch." My stomach dropped in the worst kind of ways. I recognized the voice, it was Eric, and I realized with a jolt, why he was out so late. He turned to meet my eyes, and his hatred became clear. What reason he had for hating me, I didn't know. "You shouldn't be out so late. People might get suspicious."

"The same goes for you." I ignored the pounding of my heart. "I know what you're doing. You're trying to save Alan aren't you?" Surprise flickered in his eyes. I'd hit spot on. I tilted my chin up, and looked at him dead in the eyes.

"What do you know about Alan and I?" He snapped.

"I know that he doesn't want this!"

"You've got no idea what Alan wants!"

"Do you want him to be killed?" I cried. "Because that's what you're going to do, you're going to kill him!"

"You don't know what you're sticking your nose into human." Eric growled. A saw materialized in his hand. He had it raised about to attack. I closed my eyes, and thanked my courage for not failing me. The saw that could stop my pounding heart in one strike, drew nearer. I couldn't see it, but I knew it was there, disturbing the fibers of this world as it sliced through the air. I threw my hand out, and at that instant the world stopped, all that could be heard was an earsplitting bang like an electric shock. My eyes flew open. Eric was standing a couple meters away from me, breathing heavily and clutching his hand. The saw lay on the concrete, bent out of shape. An unbeatable weapon defeated at last.

"Don't you dare say that to me!" I shouted, although my voice should have wavered. "Cancer killed my father when I was young. I watched him suffer until the day he died. And I can say without a doubt, that I would have done the same. But if I had, all good he saw in me, his own daughter would have been lost. Is that what you want?! For Alan to live, but lose all faith in the friend he thought he could trust?!" I didn't wait for a response before turning my back on him, and walking away. Desperately, I hoped my words would be enough change it, the fate set out for them by the person who wrote them into existence.