Pitch Black
Chapter Twenty: Nine Years Later
That all seemed, in itself, just a dream.
As I sit near the grave site where Lynn was buried on a bench, near the square in front of the play park that was built in place of Huntington's, which was torn down two years prior. Shortly after Christopher's disappearance was discovered, the school had a lawsuit filed against them for endangering students' lives, lost the case, and was shut down. The superintendent decided it no longer needed to existed, so the place was torn down to build something more enjoyable; a children's play park and picnic area. I was ecstatic by the fact that the school that used to burn a whole in my heart was demolished, but no matter what was done, a scar would always be there.
Warm spring winds shifted the trees and grass. It was like I had shifted an entirely new life as soon as I had left the Lovette manor. It felt so... odd, packing my things, exiting the manor, and closing the iron gates behind me, knowing that not another embodied soul would enter that castle. As of now, I didn't know if the manor was even still up. It was utterly unexplainable. Like a dream that one woke up from, but later wondered if the dream was even had.
I knew no one would believe me if I told them I had literally been to Hell and back, knew what it was like, experienced it. When I hear people say, "my life is hell," or, "that was utterly hellish," I want to yell at them. No, in fact, what they were experiencing was no where close to what Hell is like. Even Huntington's, compare to actual Hell, was so much of a blessing. At least I had people that made me feel comfortable at Huntington's and made it bearable.
The Pitch Black members hadn't disbanded as expected, but instead decided to make their own group of travelling people, ready to give their wisdom to others who they deemed intelligent enough to accept it. They were like a circus for intelligent people, travelling philosophers that wore nothing but black and held dark secrets. Last I heard of them, they were in the Eastern part of the world, working on a book highly anticipated by their may fans. I was glad they had come so far; Huntington's seemed to shackle them in place, and now they were out, free to share what they knew and thought.
Brandon is probably the only living person who believes in my story, and even then, I still don't think he fully believes it himself. He's married now, and has two three year old twin boys, officially off his pain medication a year after everything ended. Not all of his scars had disappeared, but his wife of four years, Hannah, overlooked this. His children, Frederick and Nicholas, still thought of their father as their hero and idol, along with their godfather Jack. Brandon had always told me that it'd be best to keep the story between us, since such a thing wouldn't be healthy for a growing family. I agreed with him, and decided to lay the story to rest. But I would never forget it.
My wife, Geniveve, doesn't know of it. She only knows of Lynn, but nothing beyond the night of how she died. She tells me to leave the past behind, that being 'glum' isn't good for our daughter. Of course, Mary is a cheerful one year old regardless, but Geniveve feels as though any negitive energy will effect Mary in a way that would scar her for life. Nothing could, in my opinion. She knew better, even at one.
I still wondered if what had all happened actually happened. Had Christopher and Xavier even existed? Did I really spend time in Hell? If it wasn't for Brandon, I would have thought it was all a hallucination, or some odd dream I had remembered that was a cause of stress due to my unhappiness at Huntington's. Though I was a fully grown family man now, I felt like I was mature ten more years than how I should have been. I was wise; I would tell Mary to appreciate her life, no matter what. Just watching Geniveve, Mary, Frederick, and Nicholas on the playground awakened a sort of spirit within me; spirit that said, "enjoy it now, while it's still here. Life is something that you simply can't waste."
I wish I had known that back then. At Huntington's, most of the life I was supposed to be enjoying to the best of my ability, was spent in melancholy and Hell. My world was black not simply because it was, but because it was how I made it. The illusions my mind gave me forced my very soul to mirror the colorlessness of the school in order to cope. It happened with Brandon, Lynn, and the Pitch Black members too. But luckily, I had the glimmer of hope in Xavier Belial's smile. The smile that I had despised, that I didn't want to accept. It was something that I took as a threat, because it wasn't dark like everything else. The smile belonging to the man that forced me to turn a new leaf; to change my life. For my wife, Brandon, my daughter... everyone.
I smiled, and went over to Lynn's tombstone to lay down the violet on the patch of earth covering her. I heard Geniveve's sweet voice calling to me, and she approached me.
"Jack, honey, it's time to go home. We have to get the boys home for supper." She said, putting a hand on my shoulder. I nodded, and said a quick "of course." before she went back to the park to prepare Frederick and Nicholas for the ride back home to their house. I quickly grabbed up the small, black book with the ornate silver writing on the front, having read it for the umpteenth time. I followed my wife to the car, holding my daughter's hand as she bounced at my side with her godbrothers. I took in the feel of her tiny, young hand in mine, the sights, the sounds, the smells of the fading day, the scent of Geniveve's perfume as the wind carried it back to me, the way her hair and the trees flowed and rustled, the delighted little voices of my godsons and daughter ringing gently through the serene spring air. Now than ever, everything was so... beautiful.
No longer would this world of mine fade to black. Never again.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Moon had decided that he really did need that playful beam of Light after all, just as the Light had said. If it weren't for that wonderful little Light, Moon thought, I would not glow as brightly as I am now to illuminate the dark night skies of my kingdom.
The Moon hummed contently to himself as night fell, and he shone with a brighter excellence than ever before.
As I sit near the grave site where Lynn was buried on a bench, near the square in front of the play park that was built in place of Huntington's, which was torn down two years prior. Shortly after Christopher's disappearance was discovered, the school had a lawsuit filed against them for endangering students' lives, lost the case, and was shut down. The superintendent decided it no longer needed to existed, so the place was torn down to build something more enjoyable; a children's play park and picnic area. I was ecstatic by the fact that the school that used to burn a whole in my heart was demolished, but no matter what was done, a scar would always be there.
Warm spring winds shifted the trees and grass. It was like I had shifted an entirely new life as soon as I had left the Lovette manor. It felt so... odd, packing my things, exiting the manor, and closing the iron gates behind me, knowing that not another embodied soul would enter that castle. As of now, I didn't know if the manor was even still up. It was utterly unexplainable. Like a dream that one woke up from, but later wondered if the dream was even had.
I knew no one would believe me if I told them I had literally been to Hell and back, knew what it was like, experienced it. When I hear people say, "my life is hell," or, "that was utterly hellish," I want to yell at them. No, in fact, what they were experiencing was no where close to what Hell is like. Even Huntington's, compare to actual Hell, was so much of a blessing. At least I had people that made me feel comfortable at Huntington's and made it bearable.
The Pitch Black members hadn't disbanded as expected, but instead decided to make their own group of travelling people, ready to give their wisdom to others who they deemed intelligent enough to accept it. They were like a circus for intelligent people, travelling philosophers that wore nothing but black and held dark secrets. Last I heard of them, they were in the Eastern part of the world, working on a book highly anticipated by their may fans. I was glad they had come so far; Huntington's seemed to shackle them in place, and now they were out, free to share what they knew and thought.
Brandon is probably the only living person who believes in my story, and even then, I still don't think he fully believes it himself. He's married now, and has two three year old twin boys, officially off his pain medication a year after everything ended. Not all of his scars had disappeared, but his wife of four years, Hannah, overlooked this. His children, Frederick and Nicholas, still thought of their father as their hero and idol, along with their godfather Jack. Brandon had always told me that it'd be best to keep the story between us, since such a thing wouldn't be healthy for a growing family. I agreed with him, and decided to lay the story to rest. But I would never forget it.
My wife, Geniveve, doesn't know of it. She only knows of Lynn, but nothing beyond the night of how she died. She tells me to leave the past behind, that being 'glum' isn't good for our daughter. Of course, Mary is a cheerful one year old regardless, but Geniveve feels as though any negitive energy will effect Mary in a way that would scar her for life. Nothing could, in my opinion. She knew better, even at one.
I still wondered if what had all happened actually happened. Had Christopher and Xavier even existed? Did I really spend time in Hell? If it wasn't for Brandon, I would have thought it was all a hallucination, or some odd dream I had remembered that was a cause of stress due to my unhappiness at Huntington's. Though I was a fully grown family man now, I felt like I was mature ten more years than how I should have been. I was wise; I would tell Mary to appreciate her life, no matter what. Just watching Geniveve, Mary, Frederick, and Nicholas on the playground awakened a sort of spirit within me; spirit that said, "enjoy it now, while it's still here. Life is something that you simply can't waste."
I wish I had known that back then. At Huntington's, most of the life I was supposed to be enjoying to the best of my ability, was spent in melancholy and Hell. My world was black not simply because it was, but because it was how I made it. The illusions my mind gave me forced my very soul to mirror the colorlessness of the school in order to cope. It happened with Brandon, Lynn, and the Pitch Black members too. But luckily, I had the glimmer of hope in Xavier Belial's smile. The smile that I had despised, that I didn't want to accept. It was something that I took as a threat, because it wasn't dark like everything else. The smile belonging to the man that forced me to turn a new leaf; to change my life. For my wife, Brandon, my daughter... everyone.
I smiled, and went over to Lynn's tombstone to lay down the violet on the patch of earth covering her. I heard Geniveve's sweet voice calling to me, and she approached me.
"Jack, honey, it's time to go home. We have to get the boys home for supper." She said, putting a hand on my shoulder. I nodded, and said a quick "of course." before she went back to the park to prepare Frederick and Nicholas for the ride back home to their house. I quickly grabbed up the small, black book with the ornate silver writing on the front, having read it for the umpteenth time. I followed my wife to the car, holding my daughter's hand as she bounced at my side with her godbrothers. I took in the feel of her tiny, young hand in mine, the sights, the sounds, the smells of the fading day, the scent of Geniveve's perfume as the wind carried it back to me, the way her hair and the trees flowed and rustled, the delighted little voices of my godsons and daughter ringing gently through the serene spring air. Now than ever, everything was so... beautiful.
No longer would this world of mine fade to black. Never again.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Moon had decided that he really did need that playful beam of Light after all, just as the Light had said. If it weren't for that wonderful little Light, Moon thought, I would not glow as brightly as I am now to illuminate the dark night skies of my kingdom.
The Moon hummed contently to himself as night fell, and he shone with a brighter excellence than ever before.