Hero

Jesse
I couldn’t believe what I had caused. He stapled her because of me! He cut her with a knife because I told her to take home a cat!

Tonight was the eve of her mother’s death. I was terrified of what her father would do to her; I had to save her tonight. Enough was enough.

I told her I used my ‘miracles’ for cancer patients, because her father was a cancer. He was killing her.

I had to be her hero.

- - -

My alarm went off at midnight because I wanted to be awake on the anniversary of her death.

I crept down the hall, and scooped up Christ into a small, see through container and carefully brought him into our backyard. It was raining again and I poured him into the bird bath. I felt as if something terrible would happen; I wasn’t sure what or why or how it would happen, it was just a feeling.

“I thought that when someone close to you dies, you know it. You feel it. Like, when you’re not there with them. I thought I would have felt my mother’s death when I was asleep. But I didn’t. I didn’t feel anything. I didn’t wake up. I didn’t even dream about her,” I rambled on to Christ, peering down at him. I stuck my hands in the water and bent over the bird bath to keep the rain bullets from hitting him. He swam away from my hands, until he was comfortable and started swimming over my palms.

“She was my best friend. Not Jax, not Caddy, not Lacta. Not even Jesse. And she was so pretty, Christ. She had blonde hair, and blue eyes, like a princess. Her favorite animals were fish. Do you remember? You were her fish first. She would always talk to you. I wonder what your name was for her. Oh well,” I sighed and either I turned into a ghost so the rain could hit the bird bath, or the rain was coming from me. “My eyes. They’re not your ginormous, dark, curious ones.”

Christ didn’t nod or shake his head; he just swam around without a care in the world. I wanted to be him. I wanted to be a goldfish. Things would be easier. No one would beat you and blame you for everything. Even though I’m guilty of everything.

“Did you know your mother? Did she die? Did you cry?” I asked. What if his mother’s name was Mary? I shook my head and my hair just made slap and clap noises.

“That’s it!” I heard my father erupt from within the house. When he found me out in the backyard, he snatched me up by the hair and dragged me through the house and out of it, on to the long stretch road that expanded from the front of our house. “Get on your knees!” He demanded and wrapped something around my eyes so that I could not see.

I heard the opening and closing of his truck and its distinct engine that roared. It backed out of our gravel drive way, and sped down the road. I waited there on my knees.

My mother was hit by a truck. I didn’t get to see her, feel her cold body, until a whole 24 hours later. I never said goodbye. I didn’t even say goodnight. I never knew what she was doing or why. But she died.

I forgave the man who did it. I don’t think father did. And I think he was angry all this time, because I did. I’m the one who moved. I got out of bed the next day. I ate food. I spoke to people. He didn’t.

I could hear the roar of the engine a mile away. He was probably going 70 miles over the speed limit. Any minute, he’d be here. Any minute.

I cried out, “Mom!” As I heard it came closer and closer. Any second now, mom…

And then everything stopped. I ignored the rain; I had cut it from my hearing. But the engine had just… stopped.

- - -

Jesse
I stepped in front of her. I could not believe such a monster existed. Running over his own daughter with his truck. It was incredulous.

“Mom!” She cried.

The truck was several yards away. I focused really hard on the truck. His hand was about to slap the horn, so I snapped my eyes shut.

And when I opened them, every part of him and his truck had disappeared.

For good.

“It’s over now,” I reassured her and helped her to her feet.

“W-wha-what did you do?” She whimpered.

“He can’t hurt you anymore. He’s gone,” I whispered, wrapping my arms around her back, though I was surprised when she pushed me away.

“Did you kill him?” She sniveled. I hesitated.

“In theory, but he was going to–”

“You killed my father? Why? Why?” She shouted, sounding angry. No, no, she’s just… in shock. She’s not angry, right?

“He was going to kill you!” I said, shaking her by the shoulders. She slapped my hands away, still with the blindfold on.

“He was my only blood! You murderer!” She scowled.

“No, Kristen, he was going to kill you! He was going to hit you with his truck going at least 100 miles per hour!” I protested and she through her hands up in the air.

“At least if I was dead, I could be with my mother! You’ve taken everyone away from me Jesse!” She screamed, so furiously, you could see the red her face was turning, even in the dark. “I hate you! Just… leave! Get out of here! And don’t come back!”

“Kri-”

“Leave! I hate you! Just go! Get away from me!” She shrieked almost like a dying animal.

I was speechless. So I left like she told me to. I ran.

“Don’t come back!”

I ran down that long stretch road, and never looked back.

“You stole everything!”

I saved her from death.

“I hate you!”

I didn’t know if I was her hero anymore.

“My eyes.”

But I did know that the goldfish was dead.