Aversion by Nate Allen

Author:Nate Allen
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: supernatural, haunting, trauma, christian suspense

My eyes snap open. I’m on the kitchen floor again, sweat soaked and paralyzed. My body feels as if it was flexing with every one of his screams. I don’t know how long I was with him. Time seemed endless, the only light in the basement the five candles put there for a terrible ritual. The only company, five cloaked monsters waiting for the cross to fall so they could pull him away and feed. All air is missing from my lungs. I’m not just panicked. I’m exhausted.

The basement door flexes and bows out on all sides. Something is pushing against it, the cross the only thing keeping the monsters from killing me now. Is knowing better? Now when I close my eyes, instead of seeing the stairs and the shadows reaching for me, I’ll see cloaked figures with mouths of sharp teeth surrounding me, waiting to eat me; I’ll see the smeared blood of my only two childhood friends in the shape of ‘a star and a circle.’ I can’t say that knowing is better. I can try to justify that as long as I get to keep my family, this is worth it. If the aversion is gone—something I’m not ready to test—what’s on the other side? What if the aversion was the cork meant to hold all the rest in? And now that I know why, everything is going to leak out of me. What if this leads to me becoming a worse person? What if I become like The Assassin, too stuck in a different place in the past that in the present I’m terrible to everyone around me?

There’s nothing more I want to know about my past. It’s unclear when I was let out of the basement. She probably kept me down there for days, my only hope being that cross above my head—and that Name I had to cry out for until I couldn’t cry anymore…

What happened when I finally came up from the basement is a mystery I don’t really care to solve. Either I made another mistake and was discarded quickly thereafter, or, and I would like to believe this one, I raised a good deal of hell to make them get rid of me. Taking my tree branch gun and shattering the TV screen is a nice image. Pushing that mass of a woman down my bedroom stairs in hopes that the fall would kill her is an even nicer image.

I have to believe I wasn’t discarded but did what I needed to do to get away from them once and for all. It would make me a victor in some small way instead of a continuous victim. That one small detail would give some kind of legitimacy to my present again: I’m not a man who isn’t important enough to have a real birthday; I once was a child strong enough to give up every aspect of my life because anything was better than living with The Reisers. Today, I’m going to be like the four year old before he was left in the basement.

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