Through Glass

by Rebecca Ethington

  I grasped his skin, my heart beating so fast I was sure I couldn’t take it. A shaking breath moved out of me, his own breath moving across my skin. He moved closer as his frantic breaths rolled over me—the heat of his breath, of his touch—igniting a fire across the surface of my skin. His fingers trailed their way up my arms, over my face, across my neck…

  I had forgotten how good this felt. I had forgotten what touch was like; what it did to my body.

  Everything felt like it was on fire. I smiled through the tears as he wrapped his arm around me and pulled me toward him. I let him, letting my own arms wrap around him in my desperate attempt to get closer to him, to feel more of him.

  I felt his lips graze against my skin, the touch dry and foreign, but incredibly welcomed. I turned into it, my fingers digging into his tattered shirt and into his shaggy unkempt hair as the scruff on his chin moved against my face.

  I gasped at the prickly sensation that cut into me, the gasp deepening into a groan as his lips made contact with mine. The feeling of ecstasy I was now feeling grew into something I couldn’t ignore.

  I clung to him, I pressed into him. I felt every part of him as he did the same to me. No words had passed between us since he had said my name, but we didn’t need them. I could feel his happiness in the way he clung to me, sensed his relief in the way he breathed and his joy in the taste of his lips.

  I felt it all and I knew he felt it all from me. He pulled away from me slowly; his hands unwilling to leave my body as he moved back to look at me. His cheeks were stained with tears as he moved my hair out of my face and stared into my eyes.

  “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he said again, the same words from all those years ago sounding even more beautiful.

  “Two years, one month, thirteen days and a few hours?” He smiled as I spoke, his fingers running over the skin of my face like he would never let me go.

  “And a few minutes,” he gasped, the sounds of ecstasy heavy in his deep voice. He smiled and I couldn’t help it, I laughed. I laughed loud and deep and let the sound carry around us.

  Cohen smiled as his laugh filtered through mine like a silver ribbon. The happy sounds surrounded us and, for that moment, I was happy. I was free.

  I couldn’t feel the pulse of fear that still beat through me. I didn’t see the monsters that lay lifeless in my room. It was Cohen and me, and everything was perfect.

  Until the sound that would ring in our death rent through the air.

  The screech of the Ulama broke through the sound of our laughter and destroyed the perfect peace we had created. The sound left as quickly as it had come, the warning received. We didn’t have much time.

  “We have to go,” Cohen said, his fingers clutching to my elbow protectively.

  I didn’t say anything; I simply turned and picked up the rail I had just discarded. My fingers wound around the awkward piece of metal.

  “Let’s go,” I said, my voice harder than I remember it ever being.

  Cohen smiled at me, his lips pressing to mine in a hard, desperate way that made my toes curl before he released me, rushing to my desk to grab the empty, dusty backpack that I hadn’t touched in two years.

  The contents fell over the floor as he dumped everything out; text books and papers that were no longer needed fell into a heap.

  “Where’s the water?” he asked, his quick change surprising.

  “In the bathroom.” I pointed toward it, like he needed help finding it.

  “Pack one change of clothes, Lex,” he said and pushed the backpack into my arms before he took off toward the bathroom. I quickly opened the mostly empty drawers of my dresser, wishing I hadn’t washed all of my clothes yesterday. I wasn’t even wearing pants right now.

  Cohen returned just as I pulled on a pair of shorts. The backpack was already full of the few dry things I had.

  “We’ll go to my house, get food and the batteries, get the light working and then we need to run before they find us,” he said as he threw the water bottles into the bag, placing the now cracked emergency light on top of it before zipping it up and throwing it over his shoulder.

  I held my bed rail tightly in my hand as I looked at him, his face still speckled with the black blood of the Ulama while his hand clutched the wooden banister between his charcoal stained fingers.

  “You ready?” he asked. My head nodded once in agreement before he grabbed my hand and pulled me from the room.

  I followed him quickly, not caring where we ended up; not thinking about food or water as any logical person would. I merely relished the feel of his skin against mine, the subtle scent of air that flowed through the house from the front door that stood open before us.

  I ran after him as best I could, my bare feet slipping a bit on the dust as we walked hand and hand into the darkness outside.

  I stepped out for the first time in two years, but I didn’t take the time to savor it. I couldn’t, for the warning call of the Ulama had become a battle cry.

  The sound of the screech filled the air around us as every hair on my body stood on end, my heart thudding heavily in my chest. I clung to Cohen’s hand as the sound moved through me, as my fear and anger became a wild animal in my chest that couldn’t be ignored. I clenched the rail, ready to fight our way to freedom if that’s what it took.

  I looked at Cohen’s dark hair in front of me as I followed him. Then he stopped, his arm wrapping around me as he threw me away from him. I stumbled across his grandparents’ once pristine lawn. My body tripped on the dirt only to land in a patch of dead grass.

  I looked up at Cohen, confused, only to see him standing before me protectively as he faced the black feathers of the Ulama. He held the banister in front of him as he prepared to attack the largest Ulama I had ever seen.

  Dread filled me at seeing the towering monster standing over us. The creature stood more than a foot over Cohen’s head with its massive arms held in front of him as its two foot long talons dangled through the air, warning Cohen of what was to come. I froze as I saw him, the long weapon in my hand feeling like a dead weight. I couldn’t move. The creature spread his wings behind him as his screech increased; they fanned out before us, blocking any chance we had of escape.

  We had been foolish to think that we would make it out unscathed. They had sent two of the monsters into my house while leaving one out to ensure our death.

  “Stay there, Lex,” Cohen said, his voice shaking as he squared his shoulders before the thing and lifted his bannister, ready to attack, to protect me.

  I clenched my hand around my bed rail. If he thought I was merely going to let him run at a giant monster on his own, he obviously didn’t know me very well. I followed his lead and ran after him, the rail held high as my mouth opened in a desperate call of war. Cohen met him first. He swung wide, aiming for the creature’s side, but the rail never made contact. The monsters hand stretched forward, pushing Cohen to the ground in a plume of dirt. I screamed as I ran at the Ulama, the bed rail held high as I slashed through the air. It made contact with the wing of the monster that towered above me.

  The sound of grinding metal sounded through the empty street, the bed rail rubbing against the large, feathery scales of the monsters wing, stopping any progress I could have made. I didn’t care. I hacked at the thing over and over, screaming as the loud clang of metal echoed in my ears.

  My attack did not go unnoticed, the monster turned toward me as he threw Cohen to the side, his body flying through the air like a rag doll. The backpack ripped apart as it soared through the air right behind him, the contents scattering over the patches of dead grass.

  I looked up toward the monster, to his lifeless ebony eyes that looked into me. I was looking into death. I felt everything go cold and, for one minute, I forgot what I was doing, why I was fighting.

  I wanted to die and I wanted the beautiful thing in front of me to do it.

  I stepped forward, ready to accept my fate when strong arms pushed i
nto me, pushing me out of the way. I screamed as I fell and Cohen moved back to attack the thing that I had been so willing to let end me a moment before. Everything inside of me froze at the thought, over the control that the Ulama had over us. I needed to get us out of here.

  I scurried across the grass toward the emptied contents of the backpack. I could hear Cohen’s grunts as he fought, his desperate noises as he fought the losing battle.

  We only had one chance now.

  I grabbed the light and the batteries that had been scattered around. I didn’t know if we had grabbed the battery I had found. I didn’t know if this would work, but it was our only chance.

  I wedged the batteries in place as I turned toward Cohen, the light facing out in the desperate hope that it would turn on. That with one flick of the switch the monster would vanish. I never got a chance to try.

  My mouth opened in a scream that never found voice as Cohen’s arms fell to his sides. The creature slashed forward with his long claws before Cohen’s last attack even had a chance to make contact.

  I saw the flash of gold, the wide arch of Cohen’s red blood as it splattered over me.

  The scream died in my throat as the wetness clung to my skin, as the screech of the Ulama died, leaving us in silence. Cohen stood still before me, the muscles in his back relaxing as he collapsed to his knees.

  I watched, unable to move as the creature took Cohen’s life. As the monster ended everything with one slash from its claws.

  I waited for him to turn to ash. I waited for the scream to break free of the prison it had found inside of me. Nothing happened.

  Cohen stayed still in front of me, his face turned toward the creature as he pressed his hand to his chest, his own fingers stained in his blood.

  One call from the Ulama broke free from the creature in front of us and his large talons wrapped around Cohen as he lifted him from the ground, the golden prongs holding Cohen’s body as if it was an infant.

  The monster lifted him as its massive wings moved and flapped in preparation to leave; to take Cohen from me forever. It was then the sound broke free from my chest. The tortured wail seeping into the air as my fear left me; leaving me with nothing other than the pain and the white-hot pulse of anger at what the monster had done.

  I scrambled to my feet, the bed rail in my hand as I screamed and ran toward him. I swung the rail wide, the heavy metal making contact with the back of the creature that carried Cohen away from me.

  “Let him go!” I screamed as I hit him. The rail hit him hard enough that a spray of black blood sprinkled over my face.

  The creature screamed at the impact, it’s free hand moving to slice through me. I jumped away, avoiding the golden sickles only to feel the feathered surface of his arm cutting into me. The impact of the creatures arm pushed me away, sending me stumbling back only to collide with the blunt edge of the stairs that led up to my front porch.

  I yelled out at the pain that rattled through my spine. I needed to get up, I need to fight him, I needed to get Cohen. I turned toward the monster, pushing myself up and struggling to find my feet in my desperation. I stumbled through the grass, the rail heavy in my hands as I tried to rush toward where the monster had stood, but it was too late. The monster had already taken flight, his black feet leaving the patch of grass it stood on as it moved into the air, flying into the black, his wings taking him through the ten foot gap and away from me.

  “COHEN!” I screamed as I crawled after him, my body still aching too much to get me to my feet.

  “COHEN!” The scream broke from my chest as tears fell down my cheeks. My arms gave up as I went crashing to the ground, my body vibrating in pain and earth shaking sobs.

  I saw Cohen turn his head toward me as I yelled for him. The sound of my scream drowned by the darkness and the Ulama’s scream that pierced the night.

  Cohen’s eyes focused on me as his mouth moved in farewell, as his eyes closed and life left him.

  As he left me alone.

  I collapsed back to the ground as the black swallowed him up, as the monster took him away from me.

  The screams had died in my chest as soon as they had vanished from sight, but I couldn’t stop the tears and I couldn’t move my body.

  I lay in the grass, the rough texture of the dead plants rough against my skin. I stared at nothing except the flicker of the emergency light as it tried to ignite itself, as it sucked the last of the life from the batteries. It’s wasn’t enough. It was too late.

  He was already gone.

  I watched the light—the flicker of life—and wondered why the Ulama hadn’t come back, why they hadn’t come to finish the job. This light was obviously not enough to destroy them. If it was, then I would still have Cohen. I was open game; they should have come by now.

  I wasn’t sure I cared.

  Perhaps, this punishment was worse anyway. To die alone.

  Slowly, my tears dried to nothing. My sadness and pain disappeared to lock itself somewhere deep inside me. They seeped into the place I held everything else that hurt, nestling themselves together until I could pretend they weren’t there.

  I pushed them away until I couldn’t feel them, until only the anger was left. It was what I had done when the pain at being alone was too much, when the loss of my family hurt. Except now, there was nothing to replace it. There was no smiling face on the other side of the glass to help me forget. To make me feel something real.

  I uncoiled my body slowly as I stood, my arms hanging down limply by my side. I was just aware of the awkward V shaped metal I still held in my hands, the slime of my sweat and Cohen’s blood making my grip weak.

  It hung by my side with the metal cold against my bare leg. My fist clenched and unclenched around the bulky shape with each pulse of my heart. It was a dark, cold reminder of the world I had so ruthlessly been thrown into. I didn’t want it to be like this; me, alone, in the dark. I could feel my anger boiling as it attempted to drown my loss. I didn’t know, however, if it was strong enough to do so.

  I stared at the darkness in front of me, the black sky lightening with each dim flicker of the light. I focused on the last place I had seen him. My eyes unmoving from the inky black of the sky. I couldn’t let that be the last of him.

  I could feel the emptiness of the street around me. I could feel it seeping into my bones and chilling me, changing me. Into what, I wasn’t sure.

  A monster? A warrior? I stood on the edge of both; my pain and loss fueling my anger. I couldn’t stay here where everything was gone. Where everything hurt and nothing was good. I couldn’t stay here when the world had been destroyed.

  I needed to get out of here.

  I ripped my eyes away from the black spot in front of me. My eyes narrowed through the stinging in my eyes as I gathered up the flickering light and ran toward my house. I ran into my house not seeing, not caring; my mind and heart flying away from me. I ran right through the open door, through the destroyed kitchen and into my brother’s bedroom.

  I stopped the minute my feet touched the carpet and my eyes scanned the room through the dark.

  My heart beat wildly in my chest as I looked at the bedroom, which was as almost perfect and practically untouched as mine was. Two sets of bunk beds, the dinosaur blankets, a Justin Timberlake poster taped above the dresser, and the Scooby Doo slippers which still sat by the bed, waiting for bedtime. It all looked like they had just stood up and walked away, only to forget their way home.

  I hadn’t come in here since the week after the world had changed. I hadn’t wanted to. I had searched for food, light and pictures and then I had closed the door, leaving this room alone for the past two years.

  I don’t know why my feet had taken me here. Now that I was here though, I couldn’t seem to move myself forward.

  I was leaving this house. I had to, to save myself. To put an end to everything. As much as this place had become a prison, all my memories were here. My life was here.

  My chest constricted w
ith the idea of losing that connection. Losing the small amount of normal that I still clung to. That wasn’t right, though; I wasn’t clinging to normal. I was clinging to shadows of what used to be. I had been a shadow. A shadow of guilt and fear that lived by the rules and challenged nothing. A shadow of who I used to be. I wasn’t normal.

  Normal hadn’t been here in years.

  It was going to be hard to leave behind the last memories of what life had been like before the world turned black. I wanted to take those memories with me.

  That’s why I had come in here, I realized.

  I stepped in silently, my feet quiet against the dust covered carpet as the pain I always kept restrained inside of me attempted to find its way out. I gently set the flickering light on the floor and then my fingers ran over the covers of the bottom bunk, gliding over them as if they were made of precious glass. A glass I could never replicate, never see again.

  I wrapped my hand around the bed rails, glancing at the unfinished math homework on the desk and the half-finished Lego castle. Nothing had changed.

  That was wrong because everything was different. And it was about to change again.

  I crossed to the dresser quickly, pulling open drawers to reveal the perfectly folded clothes of my brothers. I shifted them around in search of something to take with me with the long forgotten smell of my mother’s laundry detergent floating up to me.

  I grabbed a pair of camo pants and held them to my nose, smelling in the chemical scent of lilacs before shrugging out of shorts and pulling the pants over my tiny frame. The pants were more like capris on me.

  I stripped off the oversized pajama shirt I wore as I moved to the other dresser, pulling a black superhero shirt over my head and placing my youngest brother’s Thor watch around my wrist.

  I turned away from the dresser to scan the room. I was missing someone. I needed something from Travis. My eyes fell on the tattered backpack my oldest brother had carried with him since fourth grade, the union jack patch attached to the back, the edges frayed with the color appearing more green than blue under the dust.