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Words and Illustration by Charlie Z
“What are we going to do about Kiada?”
“Leave her here?”
“Kage! She’s four!!”
“What the hell do you want me to do?! This is our job, if we get this done fast, we can be back to tuck her in.”
I could hear their hushed debate. I know what they’re talking about. It’s almost 8:00 pm and I’m supposed to be asleep (though I usually don’t fall asleep until about 10:00 pm). “Mama? Daddy? Do you have to go again?” I know the answer. I know it but I don't want to believe it. “Oh; Sugarplum! You’re still up?” My mom smiles at me and picks me up in her calming, gentle, loving arms. I look back at her feeling warmer, but the panic in my mind doesn’t waver. “Do you?” I whisper. Tears prick the corners of my eyes. Her bright smile wavers for a split second before she catches it, but I notice.
◈ ◈ ◈
I lift my tired eyes to the clock. 4:00pm. They're never out for more than 2 hours. Worry spreads through me and I can tell that something is wrong. I haven’t moved from this spot since they left. Mama said they would be quick. That she would come back to read me the last chapter of our book. Daddy barely looked at me, he rarely even acknowledgs my presence. They still always come back before 2 hours, so why has it almost been a day? I get up and go to my parent's room, tears falling from my eyes like a meteor shower. I crawl up onto their bed and try to wait again. I can’t. The room starts to spin. There’s screaming. I’m somewhere very dark. It looks vaguely like a burning city and all I can hear is my dad screaming. “Theia! Oh god! Please no!” I try to move towards the fading sound, but the wind holds me back. I try to cry out, but my voice has disappeared. Mama?! Daddy?! Where are you?! Come back, please!!!!! Everything starts getting darker and darker until…
I wake up. I’m still curled up on the bed but the room seems so much darker now. I sense something. “Come out.” as I beckon a shadowy, humanoid figure, about the size of me, comes from the corner. I giggle. “I need help. Can you help me find Uncie Zawa?” The figure holds out its hand and as I take it everything gets dark and hazy. All the bright colors of the world are gone. But I’m not scared. When I let go I’m sitting on a cold porch. I cry and bang on the door until it swings open and I see a familiar insomniac with a shocked expression.
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