Never

• Alex Prior, Grade 6
• Short Story
• 2018

I got up and ran. I ran far away. Very far away. Suddenly, my vision blurred. I couldn’t believe it. How could this be? How could it still be here after all these years? I thought it was destroyed by the fiery, furious, ferocious spirits. I heard a thunderous cackle from above. My body became damper and damper until I was completely drenched. I rushed for cover inside my childhood home.

My name is Never. And I never wanted this to happen. I couldn’t bare to stay there any longer. So I ran. So, now I’m there. I’m… I’m… I don’t know where. Or maybe I do. I remember this moment. Except, somehow, it was different. I couldn’t bare the rain any longer so I ran inside. I was much closer to the ground than I was used to. But that didn’t matter right now. I turned the antique doorknob, and the door creaked open. Sweet and salty aromas filled the air. Mmmmm. Then I heard it. The voice. The voice of my MIA mother.

The voice startled me at first, then I was determined to find the source of the voice. Tiptoeing through the old vintage house, my worn sneakers trodding on the withered brushbox, I walk past the floor-length mirror. I couldn’t believe my eyes! How could this be happening? I saw my ten-year-old self, staring back at me. A banner stretched across the room. Now I remember what year it was. 1997, one day after New Years. The year I turned 11. That was 20 years ago.

I hear a melody coming from the kitchen. It’s cut off by a loud scream. . Then the back door closes. It continues outside I sprint outside. There is nothing there but a black figure hiding in the bushes. My parents lie on the ground next to the bush the figure was hiding in. The black figure walks up to me. “W-who are you?”, I say in a scratchy voice. He takes of his hood. “I’m you from, the real time”.

All my thoughts are overwhelming me. I can’t stand another minute here. I need to get back to the real world. One blink and I see bright lights shining in my face, and everyone is looking down at me. I sit up and I can’t believe it. I’m back in reality. A board hangs on the back wall that reads ‘Greengate Mental Hospital’. Now I know. I know that the figure that killed my parents, was me. The sociopathic me.

The next day I set out to my childhood home. I knew what I need to do. They were never there for me. They never understood. Time for them to pay. Time for my parents, and my childish self, to pay. Rain pours down on my black hoodie. I am Never. And a word of advice, never mess with memories like me.