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36
MALIK
My eyes crack open, and I'm instantly confused, lying on a cot in the back room of the church. Father Moran sits on a chair on the other side of the room, clutching a cross as his other palm rests against the pages of the Bible.
He startles at my rustling, and his eyes widen, then soften at my opened eyes.
"Malik. How are you feeling, son?"
I stretch out my limbs, confused about how I came to be here.
"What happened?" I ask as I sit up. "Where's Vera?" Thoughts of her skip through my mind, pieces of a puzzle that don't add up. Her face sits at the forefront of my memories, afraid, terrified, alone. "Did I fucking hurt Vera?"
He shakes his head. "Vera is okay."
"Where is she?" I demand.
"She is at home with her mother," he says cautiously.
My friends. Vera's friends.
"Where is Felix? Levi? Atticus? Where is everyone?"
He turns around in his chair, crossing one leg over the other. He settles the crucifix inside the Bible, closing the pages and settling his hand on the black leather. "Tell me what you remember."
I run my fingers through my hair, thinking back. I don't remember much of anything, to be honest. I don't know how long has passed, but I can only remember bits and pieces of the past few weeks. Like I've been here, then I'm gone. When I wake up, I'm somewhere completely different.
I'm so confused.
"I-I don't know."
"You were sick, Malik." My brows furrow at his words, and he reaches out, patting the top of my hand. "But you don't need to worry. You're fine now."
"What do you mean sick?" I stand up, unease gripping at my chest. "Like cancer or something?"
His eyes widen. "Oh, heavens no. The sickness of a spirit lived inside you. A demon, and a nasty one at that."
A demon.
Memories come back like a video reel. Flashes of time where I'm hanging Vera out my bedroom window, where I'm throwing Father Moran from my home.
Sister Marjorie.I wince.
My father.
My jaw goes slack. "Where's my dad?"
He sighs, leaning forward and grabbing onto my fingers. With his free hand, he reaches into the pocket of the robe and pulls out another crucifix. He drops the beads and cross in my hand, closing my fingers over it. "Some of the sisters brought him to the morgue. We'll help you arrange everything and ensure everyone is notified of his passing."
I lean back, squeezing my palm so hard the sharp edges break the skin. Blood runs over the cross, dropping onto the toe of my boot.
"I-I killed him? I killed my dad?"
He tsks. "No, of course you didn't. It wasn't you, Malik. And we will make sure everyone knows the… tragic accident he was involved in."
I narrow my eyes, gritting my teeth together until pain spreads across my jaw.
I killed my dad.
