The Fifth World 2

Bo: I sit outside on the garden bench in the backyard overlooking what little grass there is. Everything else is stone. I sigh and I sigh again. I close my eyes.

I sat here that one night with Cynric... when everything was finally... alright. Just alright. It was not good but it was alright. I was home, Adam was home, Mum was happy and on top of all of that, Cynric was here. Things were relatively okay. Not perfect but... okay.

It is the afternoon. I plan on, or at least hope, that tomorrow Johnson, Derek and I will leave for the Fifth World.

"Hungry?" Johnson asks me whilst taking a bite from a salad sandwhich I am sure my mother prepared for me.

I watch him as he munches and I raise an eyebrow, "No thanks."

I will take Derek to the Fifth World. I refuse to leave without him. Johnson does not realise that having Derek around could be highly beneficial for us... sure, he might slow us a down a bit with a fascination for this world he has never seen or heard of up until yesterday... but I remember my first time in the Fifth World. It was beautiful, it is beautiful, it is grand, it is heavenly - even with the evil that lives in it. I remember feeling so dazed in the city of Hargon, the buildings looked as if they were all from the 1800's, the people there would march down the cobble stone path with no care in the world as they transformed from different kinds of animals, or appeared or disappeared in the blink of an eye perfectly in the open, or dress in a graceful white, or even show the abnormal - for an Average Human - strength and speed one has. At first, Hargon was like a haven.

"My mother thinks I am being unfaithful to Jonathan," I say quietly. "I mean, first there was Cynric, you and then Derek; all very good looking boys- men. She must be so confused."

"Have you considered telling the truth, Bo?" Johnson asks me, "It would be much more simple rather than having to conjure up lies."

I scoff as he sits down beside me on the garden bench, "It would only confuse her more. You do not understand, she will always be broken. Manipulating her will just make her mental state even worse. I cannot bare to do it anymore. She misses Callahan, Johnson."

It sounds odd saying both of my father's names in the same sentence - Johnson notices it too but he does not say anything. It is weird to think that this man sitting beside me, with the body of an eighteen year old, could be my father. But even if he is my birth father, I will never be his daughter.

"Why did you not save him?" I ask very blatantly, it takes a while for Johnson to understand what I am saying.

He blinks twice before answering and then runs his fingers through his deep black hair, "We have been over this."

"You were his Angelican," I hiss at him, "You were meant to be his guardian, his angel and you were not there. Surely, surely you considered checking up on this Average Human who was raising your child. Surely it crossed your mind to care about someone other than yourself and Evee. It was your place to protect him, protect him from life's challenges... even if they were supernatural, or most importantly if they are supernatural."

Johnson does not say a word. I stare at his piercing eyes which are exactly the same as mine. I inherited them and looking at them is irritating me. I look away. Johnson continues to sit in silence with me and I can tell, even if my eyes refuse to connect with his face, I can almost feel his pain, hear it, smell it. Johnson may never have actually spoken to Callahan when he was young or even directly met him face to face but Johnson watched over Callahan over the years, as he would have with many other Average Humans, and Johnson would have grown fond of many of them. He would have watched them grow and evolve into civilised adults of society - well, some of them.

I close my eyes and I imagine Johnson dressed in entirely white and sitting in an armchair of a foreign bedroom watching a child as they slept - and I think about this in a very peaceful and non-intrusive or creepy way. I think of Johnson as an angel with some kind of glow around him. I think of him as he watches the child grow into their teenage years, how they come across each experience and dodge the danger life presents them with without even knowing if Johnson has done this favour for them or not, whether he has prevented their pain or not. I think of my father, my true father, Callahan. I think of his golden hair and try to imagine a much younger face of his with a high pitched voice. I think of some striped blue and white pajamas and how he climbs into his bed and reads a novel before flicking the light out to go to sleep. I think of my grandparents and their Australian accents. I think of Callahan's half Australian accent and half English accent and the way the English kids would have probably made fun of him at school. Of course, I am making a lot of this up in my mind - Callahan's striped pajamas, the English kids bullying him... but it probably did happen.

"I wish I protected him, Bo," Johnson finally says to me, "You have no idea, I really wish I did. I have watched over many Average Humans in my time, Bo, but never have I met one as great as your father, Callahan. It pains me to know that I caused his death. If I had not left you with him, he would be alive today. Your mother would not be ill. Your brother would not be in a different world."

"A series of unfortunate events," I whisper.

"Yes."

I look up at the pine trees and see that there is less snow in the yard today. The weather is ever so slowly getting warmer. I sigh and I close my eyes. I try and preserve this moment, this feeling of being home in Manchester, as I know that in time it will be exactly where I want to be.

"Tomorrow," I whisper, "tomorrow we will leave for the Fifth World?"

"Yes."

"And Derek will join us?" I ask but Johnson knows that even if he says no, Derek will be coming anyway; he won't be able to stop me and he won't be able to stop Derek.

"Yes."

"I will need to figure out a plan to tell Theresa," I say to him, "It is going to be very difficult for her. She will truly be alone... and she hasn't been alone for a very long time."

I wince when I think of the pain she will endure, the quietness of the house, the photos on display in every single room. Everything in this house will be a constant reminder of what she does not have. This is a terrible idea.

"Any ideas?" I ask Johnson.

"One," he says to me, "but it does not include Australia and it will be hard for her but it is the best I have at the moment."

I breathe out, I have no choice, I cannot think of anything other than sending my mother on another holiday again so I am welcome to suggestions as I have very little money and no time to organise a trip, "Alright, tell me what I have to do."