Walking Among the Shadows: Awakening: Revised Edition (17 page)

I never thought that I would
bond with another man who wasn’t my father, but Jason made it difficult not to
become attached to him. I wasn’t alone; Sarah also was attached and we trusted
him to the point that spending the entire weekend at our house wasn’t something
that made us uncomfortable. In fact, if he didn’t spend the weekend with us, we
would get upset. He was definitely becoming a huge part of our family and we
were happy to have him.

What was also strange was the
closer I got to Jason, the less I saw of Jasmine, and even when I did see her I
didn’t have the same reactions I did before. It was like Jason was giving me a
protective shield that kept Jasmine and the effect she had on me at bay. At
first I would still get that evil smirk, but then when she saw I wasn’t
reacting the way I did before, she would just walk away. After a while she
would avoid eye contact with me completely. With that behind me, my confidence
soared, and my performances on the football field became a thing of legend. I
was averaging over 250 yards a game, rushing and receiving, and the Deerfield
Warriors had eleven wins and one loss and were well on our way to the state
championship and hopefully bring home the title.

The coverage I got from
reporters and sports broadcasters made me a household name and by midseason I
had several top-tier college programs interested in giving me a full
scholarship. It was a great time in my life, and I was enjoying all the perks
that came with being so popular. Brian also gained a lot of exposure and he was
offered several full scholarships as well from top-tier college programs. Brian
and I became good friends and we hung out regularly. He was a lot of fun to be
around, but fun with Brian wasn’t the same as it was with Tony. I would see
Tony still up to his old antics with the ladies from time to time, but we
wouldn’t speak.

We would acknowledge each
other and break eye contact immediately. The bad thing about hanging with Brian
was that he was kind of irresponsible and always found himself in some bad
situations. He drank too much for a teenager and had too many girls coming in
and out of his bedroom. Tony was a player, too, but somehow he handled his
dealings with tact and poise. Brian was just all over the place. When he was
drunk he didn’t care how cute, fat, or ugly a girl was; if she was ready and
willing, he was game.

Sometimes he would be so drunk
he wouldn’t even remember what girl it was, and the next day at school he would
be completely clueless why this ugly, fat girl was all over him in front of the
whole school. Some of the team would gossip about his dad being the same way
and his mom being a walking shell after taking so much from his dad. Watching
his parents carry on the way they did made Brian the person he was, and nothing
any of us said could change that. On the field he was a beast, but off the
field he was a problem.

After that whole fiasco with
the ref getting killed and me blacking out from drinking, you would think I
would decide to stay away from alcohol for a while. But, just like most
teenagers, I would succumb to peer pressure and find myself drinking again.
Each time I would drink I would black out. Sometimes I would wake up the next
morning with no incident. But other times I would wake up standing in the
middle of Jasmine’s bedroom, and other times I would be standing directly over
her while she slept. Needless to say, those nights were not the best for me
trying to get out of that house without waking anyone or setting off alarms.

If it hadn’t been for those
situations I would have totally forgotten about my dark desires towards Jasmine;
but every now and again things like that would remind me that even though the
darkness was asleep it was still there, waiting for the right moment to take
over. You would believe a thinking person would just remove alcohol from the
equation, right? Problem solved, but not me, because I loved the way I felt
when I would drink; it was like all my inhibitions were taken away and I felt
free to do whatever my teenage heart desired.

A
fter
weeks of hype the Deerfield Warriors were heading to the state championship to
face the only team that beat us earlier in the season. It was going to be a
hard-fought battle and hopefully this time we wouldn’t have another referee
making erroneous calls in favor of the other team.

Almost the entire suburb of
Deerfield was going to Soldier’s Field to watch the game. It was going to be
televised on ESPN 2 which would give us more exposure. I was excited and scared
at the same time. This was a big deal, and the last thing I needed was any
distractions that would take my mind away from the game. Coach took us all out
for dinner the night before and told us how proud he was of us and the season
we had. He talked about winning and how it was not always about winning. At
that point, I kind of tuned him out when he started talking about “it’s not
always about winning,” because I knew better than that. It was always about
winning; only those used to and accepting of losing said “it’s not always about
winning.”

What was the point of even
having a contest if it wasn’t about winning? I understood the whole journey of
getting to the win, winning with integrity and sportsmanship, but at the end of
the day the goal was getting the big “W.” If winning wasn’t so important then
practice wouldn’t matter, sportsmanship and integrity wouldn’t matter. We would
just be thrown about doing whatever and not caring about the outcome. But that
was not why we were in this contest. We were playing and fighting to win, not
to lose. I understood his reason for saying it, but I just didn’t believe in
it.

Even though I’d been to
Soldier’s Field countless times that year, playing on that field was totally
different from watching a game there. Things seemed bigger and more intense,
and the view from the field into the stands was breathtaking. I felt like a gladiator
in an ancient Roman arena engaged in mortal combat with a formidable adversary.
And make no mistakes, our competition came to win. The stadium was almost
filled to capacity and the noise from the crowd was insane. I thought our small
high school field was loud, it was but a whisper compared to Soldier’s Field.

Both teams were represented
equally and every play brought either boos from the opposing side’s fans or
cheers. It was very cold that day and the wind coming off Lake Michigan made it
worse. This was a hostile environment to play in and it made each play more
important to execute because there might not be a second chance.

By the fourth quarter our
opposition was up by a touchdown, and Brian’s arm was tired. He had thrown for
over four hundred yards and four touchdowns and I could tell by his body
language that throwing more passes in the fourth quarter would be a problem for
him, but Brian was a true warrior on the field. He never complained or whined;
he just played the game. Say what you want about his off-field antics, but when
it came to his playing on the field he was a joy to watch. In the huddle I
looked  at Brian and the rest of the team and said, “I think it’s time to run
this ball down their throats.”

Coach had been calling passing
plays for the majority of the game, to keep up with the high-powered offense we
faced. But just like us, their defense was tired and I could see it…I, on the
other hand, felt like a million bucks. The energy from the crowd was feeding me
like an IV filled with super juice or something. Some of the team protested,
warning me and Brian about how Coach didn’t like us calling our own plays in
the huddle or at the line of scrimmage.

“Is the coach out here or are
we out here?” I asked.

“We are,” they responded in
unison.

“Look at them over there, they
are tired and that defensive line has been worn down trying to sack Brian all
game. They still have a lot of energy, but we need to give Brian’s arm time to
rest for the final minutes of this quarter, we are down a touchdown, and I am
not looking forward to going into overtime out here in this godforsaken
weather.” They all shook their heads in agreement.

“We came to win, not take
second place and walk away saying maybe next year. We have to play like next
year isn’t coming, like next time won’t come around. We have to win today,
right now!”

Brian looked at me while I was
talking, and nodded his head in agreement. I could tell in his eyes he was
ready to do whatever I said out there…he trusted me and because he trusted me the
rest of the team did as well. We all moved towards the line of scrimmage for
the next play and from the look on their faces they were not prepared for what
we had in store. Big mistake on their part, very big mistake.

C
onfetti,
horns, music, fireworks, screams of defeat, and tears of triumph. This was just
a small portion of the chaos that erupted on the field while the Governor of
Illinois handed our coach the state championship trophy. I was standing there
with the game ball in hand, voted high school player of the year and MVP of the
championship game. I rushed for 110 yards in the final quarter alone and rushed
for four touchdowns. Brian didn’t have to throw another ball the entire
quarter. Final score wasn’t even close at 58 to 34. The other team was taken by
surprise that we would run the ball while we were down a touchdown, and both
coaches were open-jawed the entire quarter watching us tear into the defense
over and over again.

It was a glorious win and
solidified our claim to the top spot in the state and hopefully the nation. We
were gods of Olympus that day and no one or anything could bring us down.

It took about two hours after
the game for us to get out of Soldier’s Field and on our way home. From the
fans and interviews, it was madness and impossible to leave. The team headed
back to the school for a meeting with Coach Towers, and Sarah asked if she
could tag along with me. I was on cloud nine so it didn’t matter to me because
a lot of the students decided to go back to the school to celebrate with us on
school grounds. Of course it wasn’t supposed to happen but the school board was
okay with it because of the big win today. After the meeting I decided to head
straight home to celebrate with the family and also watch our game on TV. My
mom set the DVR to record the game on ESPN 2 so we could watch it again later
that night. I was anxious to see how I looked on camera and how awesome I was
in the fourth quarter.

When I got home Jason and my
mom were in the kitchen laughing and joking around. They ordered pizza earlier
and it must have just arrived because it was still piping hot. Watching them
together brought a smile to my face, and a warm feeling vibrated through my
body. This is what a family is supposed to feel like; safe, warm, inviting, and
fun. I quietly sat on one of the stools and began to dig into the pizza…boy,
was I hungry.

“Great game today, Aiden,”
congratulated Jason. “You were incredible out there, and to do all that in the
final quarter was something amazing. Where did you get all that extra energy
from?”

“I don’t know, really, I just
had it and wanted to win, so…I took care of business.”

“Yes, you did,” my mom agreed.

“I saw a few scouts out there
today and I can assure you if you apply yourself, the NFL will be waiting with
open arms. You could become a hall of famer one day. But it takes work and you
have to be focused and consistent with a great work ethic.”

“Yeah, I know. After today’s
game I see exactly how focused I have to be because, even though I had a
monster fourth quarter, that game wasn’t easy; we just caught them off guard
and they were too tired to respond.”

“True,” agreed Jason.
“Whatever you need I am here for you, Aiden, just let me know.”

After eating until I was
nearly bursting, I looked around and noticed Sarah wasn’t home.

“Mom, where’s Sarah?”

“Oh, she said she got held up
but she’s on her way home now. She called me about ten minutes ago letting me
know Tony is dropping her off.”

“Tony?”

“Yeah, go figure, huh…By the
way, why doesn’t Tony come over anymore?” my mom asked.

“Are you two…umm…what do you
guys call it these days…oh, beefing,” said Jason. “They call it beefing now.

“Yeah, are you two beefing?”

An awkward silence followed
the question that caused an uneasy feeling to come over the kitchen. I wasn’t
even going to try to answer that question with the truth and lying was out of
the question so my only option was to pretend the question didn’t exist. And
just before things got really weird I heard the front door swing open. It was Sarah
and for the first time I was grateful for her presence.

“Mom…Mom, I need to talk to
you” Sarah said.

Sarah sounded strange—her
voice was anxious and subdued which was very uncharacteristic of a girl so
confident and defiant. She sounded scared; worse yet, terrified and unsure. I
could hear her voice shaking as she spoke. The first thing that ran through my
mind was that Tony did something to her on the way home. If he did anything to
my sister, I will kill him, I thought. I turned to face her as she walked
towards the kitchen, I needed to get a look at her and her condition. I was
scared because whatever it was that shook her up, from the sound of her voice
it seemed she would never be the same again.

She had scratches on her face
and a bloody nose. Her shirt was bloody and torn at the sleeves. Her knuckles
were bruised from punching something or someone. She looked like she’d been in
the toughest fight of her life. Through all the martial arts tournaments we
participated in, she never came out of them looking the way she did now and
she’d been in some tough scrapes before. My heart started pounding in my chest
and I felt a sick and icky feeling build up in my throat. I kept saying to
myself “please don’t let this be rape” over and over again. No matter how
annoying Sarah was, she was my kid sister and no one had the right to put their
hands on her. A fight would be bad, but a sexual assault would be devastating.

“Sarah, what happened to you!”
my mom screamed as we both ran over to her.

“Baby, are you okay? Who did
this to you? What happened?”

Sarah grabbed my mom and
started grasping on her clothes, sobbing uncontrollably.

“Please tell me you are
okay…please!” my mom kept pleading.

I started to see tears roll
down her eyes while she kept whispering “my baby, my baby.” I was holding
Sarah’s hand and looking her over for signs of what kind of assault this was.

“Baby, tell me what happened,
please.”

After a long silence that
seemed to last forever Sarah loosened her grip from my mom, inhaled, and said
that she got into a fight with Jasmine.

“What! Who’s Jasmine?” my mom
asked looking over at me for answers.

If anyone in this house knew
who Jasmine was it would be me. She was evil, and something bad was living
inside her soul, and now since she couldn’t get to me anymore, she decided to
attack my sister. Tony, the suits, the police, or God himself was not going to
stop me from doing some serious damage to her bodily functions. This was the
last straw.

“Why were you two fighting?”
my mom continued to probe Sarah.

“She said something very mean
and crazy about Jason, and I got so mad that I hit her and then we started
fighting. But that’s not what’s wrong. She did something else to me.”

“ What did she do?”

“I don’t know…during the
fight, she held me down on the floor and placed two fingers on my forehead and
said…

‘AWAKE!’”

An icy chill traveled through
my entire body at the sound of the word echoing through the air, but it wasn’t
the word that startled me, it was who said it. The word “awake” came out of
Jason’s mouth first and then Sarah whispered it. But it wasn’t just the word
that turned my blood into ice water; it was also the way Jason said it that was
alarming. He always spoke in a very calm and melodic tone but when he said
“awake” it was like another person said it. His voice was loud, aggressive, and
filled with hate.

“How did you know?” Sarah
asked while peeking over my mom’s shoulder to look at Jason.

The scream that came from
Sarah’s mouth sent sharp vibrations and more chills up my spine. I noticed my mom
tensing up and looking at Sarah, trying to figure out what was wrong with her.
There was a look of terror on her face that I’d never seen before, like she was
looking at her own death unfold right in front of her, a menacing horror that
was just an arm’s length away, but how could this be? She was looking directly
at Jason. I slowly turned to see what scared my sister and what I saw was a
sight I would never forget for the rest of my life.

Standing where Jason should
have been was a dark entity, formless like a smoky mist one second and then
taking the form of a faceless cloaked figure the next. I would be lying if I
said this entity was foreign to me because it looked exactly like the things
that were torturing my father in the dark vision I had on the night of my
birthday. But that was a nightmare, this was actually happening and every hair
on my body was standing straight up and the nerves on the back of my neck were
vibrating so fast that it hurt. Tears began to fill in my eyes from the fear of
looking at something so menacing and evil.

There was a creepy and ominous
sound coming from the entity and it caused a whirlwind of terror to blow
through our kitchen. It sounded like people screaming and wailing from some
unseen torture or hellish reality. When the mist took shape again I could make
out talons that had to be at least twelve inches long where its hands should of
been; they seemed to glow with a neon-white light that made them appear
transparent. There seemed to be something alive inside of them, moving like
tiny worms of light. I swallowed hard thinking about what those things would do
inside the human body if someone was unfortunate enough to get attacked and
wounded by this thing’s talons. Suddenly the lights above the island started
flickering and exploding one by one, spewing glass shards all over the kitchen.
The sound of the lights exploding caused my mom to scream and turn around to
see what was shattering in her kitchen. Before that moment my Mom hadn’t turned
around to face the island or this “thing” that had invaded our kitchen. She was
still on her knees holding Sara in her arms. At the sight of the entity, my mom
started shaking uncontrollably while picking Sara up off the floor. Sarah was
wailing, asking our mom, “What is that?”

I was expecting to see the
look of a fish out of water in my mother’s eyes. A look that would show me she
was unfamiliar and unequipped to answer Sarah’s question but to my surprise and
horror it appeared she was well aware of what this thing was and just like me;
this wasn’t her first time seeing something this horrifying. And it was that
look that made me very afraid because I could tell she knew exactly what it was
and she was more terrified than either of us. Meaning “we were royally
screwed”.

It suddenly began screeching
at a pitch so high it caused us to cover our ears to stop the head shattering
pain the was now vibrating in our skulls. Sarah was screaming to the top of her
lungs and we were all frozen with fear. We were paralyzed by fear, helpless to
do anything but stand there in terror as this nameless horror filled our home
with demonic sounds that seemed to pour out of its faceless form. The
screeching slowly started to lose its volume and pitch until it started making
a humming sound and then it spoke. Its voice was the sound of multiple voices
in different tones slightly out of timing with each other, trying to speak
while inhaling. It was also hissing as it began to form words from the dark
void that should have been its face. The sound of it trying to speak was even
more terrifying than its appearance.

“I am your ending.”

Those four words sent shards
of fear through all of us as we jumped and took a step back.

“I am Lalartu and I have been
sent by Alal to feast upon your fear and scatter your flesh until your bones
are bare and the walls are weeping red with the stain of your blood.”

“Oh God, no!” my mom screamed
and grabbed my arm, pulling me away from the kitchen towards the back door.

“Run,” she grunted at me.

I tried to run, but my legs
felt weak and heavy as if something was pulling me down and back, making every
step I took seem like I was sliding backwards. The more energy I expelled the
harder it was for me to move. It was terrifying because I refused to look back
to see if that thing was getting closer. My mom was holding Sarah while pulling
my arm but we weren’t moving fast enough and I could tell my mom was feeling
the same way I was; anchored and exhausted. But she kept running and when I
looked towards the back of the house the hallway seemed so long and the door
seemed so small like the back door was a mile away. I was covered in sweat and
my mom’s grip on my arm started slipping. But she refused to let go and I suddenly
felt her fingernails dig into my arm to get a better grip. I gritted my teeth
from the pain but refused to let out one sound. The house was completely dark
now and I didn’t want this thing to find me in the darkness.