Causing Havoc; As Time Moves On...

“Yes boss, I understand… Sensitive, I know…’ I sighed, knowing this conversation wouldn’t end well. ‘His family are hurting and I must be nice, I know, I know.” I put the phone down and picked up the file on my desk.
‘Dennis Walking. 1970-2058.
Master Suite with En Suite, 2 Single Rooms, 1 Double Room with Utility Room, 1 Bathroom, 1 downstairs W/C, Kitchen, Separate Dining Room, Family Room, Conservatory, Garage, Shed, Driveway, Garden.’
An empty house, a nice, big, expensive house. That I now have to sell…

This is my life now, I have a job, friends an almost permanent address… this is the life my parents wanted for me, a life I should never have been able to have. And yet I here I am. My powers should have stopped me from having this life, should have stopped me from having friends, from having a house. Every fifteen to twenty years I have to uproot my life, leave my friends and start again… moving further and further away from where it all started, eventually I’ll either have to go back, or move country, but I don’t do well with other cultures. Every 5 years I take a trip back to the town it started in, back to the old safe house that Guardian, Violet, Despair and I once lived in peace together. I haven’t seen them in 50 years and I had forgotten about them, most of them…
Guardian was always in the back of my mind, I saw pieces of him in everyone I met. The way he treated me, it’s the way people treat their friends. Which is odd as most of us immortals go our lives alone, or with someone as a mutual understanding – you scratch my back and ill scratch yours kind of thing. But the way me and him were was different. But then we had a fight. The worst fight of my life.

“You stupid SON OF A BITCH!” I screamed in his face. “How could you do this? Why would you do this?” I had just watched him tear apart a mortal, which would normally not have been a problem. This mortal however was on The Higher’s watch list. Mortals that knew of us and yet were allowed to live as pets and sacrifices to some of The Higher’s addictions.
“Why do you even care? It’s not like you even like The Higher’s!” Guardian calmly turned from the bloody corpse to give me a glare that he usually gave to next victim. “Maybe I don’t care about them but you’re gonna get us killed. The Higher’s will be able to smell you. And not only you but ME! I didn’t do this, but you’ve sentenced us both to die!” I began to seem like a child having a tantrum, my arms flailing about as I spoke. “When aren’t we being chased by someone or something that wants us dead? Why does this matter?” “You don’t get it! THE HIGHER’S CAN AND WILL USE ANYTHING, ANYWAY TO GET TO US! WE’RE GOING TO DIE!’ realization hit me, ‘we’re going to die.” I repeated in a whisper.

That was when I left. I constantly wonder if he’s still alive. I watch the news a lot and none of the stories sound like him, I think I had almost given up on him, until one news story grabbed me. A young couple, throats slit and found lying against a tree… my tree. This was either someone leaving them to be found, or someone trying to get MY attention. I grabbed my phone from the desk and dialed the number I had committed to memory.
“Sally. Sally. I need you to find someone from the office who can sell the Dennis Walking house. I have to go out of town for a while… No Sally, someone who is actually capable to sell a damn house! ...Yes yes, I’m fine, sorry. Just some old personal business I need to take care of.” As I hung up I was already in my car, I had an emergency suitcase packed in case I need to leave Rosa Smith in the dust. I pulled my jeans and top from my glove box and began to change as I drove down the motorway. Plague was back!