Krollia
This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the works of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locals or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2015 by Steven Donahue
This story or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any matter whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Mia Sword sat on the edge of her bed and stared at the floor. She rocked her body slowly and rubbed her swollen eyes. Her bedroom door was closed, but she could still hear the murmurs from the living room. Mia wondered how many people had stopped by to console them. It seemed like the entire neighborhood had visited, most armed with hot food in glass containers. There was more food in the kitchen now than she and her dad could eat in a month.
The teen rose and smoothed out wrinkles in her black dress. She looked in the mirror above her dresser and fixed her hair. She wasn’t wearing makeup but her cheeks were red from crying. She glanced at the family photo in the wooden frame on her dresser. She saw the smiling faces of her father and her brother, Jake. The photograph was only a few weeks old, and it was the last one taken before the accident. She picked it up and rubbed her right thumb over the image of the boy. Mia shook her head and carefully placed the frame back on the dresser top.
Mia took a deep breath before exiting her room and descending the stairs. She sought out her father in the sea of gloomy faces. She picked up a piece of a conversation between Mrs. Morgan, from across the street, and Mrs. Tyler, who lived two blocks over. “What a horrible tragedy,” said Mrs. Morgan. “He was so young. So full of life.” She shook her head. “And just a year after Mrs. Sword died. I don’t know why things like this happen to such nice people.”
“It’s so strange,” said Mrs. Tyler. “To be electrocuted with no live wires around.” She shrugged. “How does that happen?” They both fell quickly silent, as if noticing that Mia was near. The teen didn’t look at them; instead she continued to search for her father. She deliberately blocked out the sounds of the other voices.
She found her father sitting at the end of the couch. His head was down and his shoulders were slumped. A glass of wine dangled precariously from his right hand. Mia rushed to him and took the glass from him. She placed it on an end table as he slowly looked up at her. His muscular body shook and he opened his mouth to speak, but all he could produce was a desperate, guttural sound. Mia sat down beside him and wrapped her arms around the distraught man. They cried together, ignoring the despondent people around them.
The guests eventually filtered out the house and soon their home was silent. Mia helped her father clean up. They worked wordlessly on the task and it didn’t take long for them to finish. Mia then wandered upstairs and found herself in Jake’s room. His bed was made and his floor was vacuumed. One might think their father had cleaned up the room, but with Jake there was no need for that. He was a neat-freak and he kept his room spotless. Mia guessed that her father hadn’t ventured into the room since the accident. She couldn’t blame him.
Like most thirteen-year-old boys, Jake tried to act much older than he was. He plastered his walls with posters of professional athletes and current music stars, but he kept hundreds of comic books in boxes under his bed. They were his prized possessions. Mia pulled out one box and sorted through the pristine copies that he kept in plastic sleeves. She saw covers featuring Superman, Batman, Spider-Man and other familiar faces, as well as issues with characters she did not recognize. She knew that Jake would have a fit if he knew what she was doing, but holding these cherished items gave her a mild sense of peace.
Mia soon packed up the comic books and slid the box back under the bed. She wondered what her dad would do with them and her brother’s other belongings. She hoped he wouldn’t pack them away, for that would be like forgetting he was here. No, she decided that she wouldn’t let that happen. She would demand that his room be left as it is, if only for a little while. It was the least she could do for her little brother.
The next day was Saturday, and Mia was glad it was the weekend. She was a good student who enjoyed her classes, but she did not want to spend the day fending off well-meaning teachers and classmates and their awkward condolences. At the same time though, she did want to get out of the house. Mia wished she had her driver’s license, but that was still a year away. Instead, she got around on her mountain bike. She left a note for her father and took off on her bike early that morning.
She rode around the small Pennsylvania town and found herself visiting the spots that Jake liked to frequent. She saw some of his friends, and those who spoke to her clumsily offered their best wishes. Mia thanked the boys and took heart in the fact that Jake was so popular. At least he had that in his short life.
Soon the sky turned dark and rain poured down on her. She thought it was fitting, but she quickly pedaled home to get out of the storm. She found her father sitting on the front porch with the same empty expression that he had had since the accident. Mia put her bike away and sat down beside the man. They sat in silence for several minutes. Mia placed a hand on her father’s shoulder. “I miss him so much, Dad,” she said softly.
He reached up and gently squeezed her hand. “So do I, Pumpkin.” He sighed deeply. “I just don’t get it. How can he be here one moment and gone the next? It’s so unfair.” He shook his head. “He had his whole life ahead of him. It’s just not right.” He began to weep and Mia hugged him tightly. She wished she could say something comforting, but her mind was blank. Maybe because she needed some answers too.
Mia had trouble sleeping that night, which did not surprise her. Since the accident, she rarely got more than four or five hours of sleep. However, this time there was a noise that was keeping her awake and she couldn’t figure out what it was. She pushed her covers back and followed the sound. It was a humming sound and it led her across the hallway past the other bedrooms to the opening that led to the attic. She reached up and pulled the rope, carefully and quietly guiding the folded ladder to the floor. The humming intensified, so she climbed the steps.
She didn’t like the attic. It was dark and musty and too confining. Jake didn’t mind the place and often spent time in the attic reading his comic books. Despite having a very nice room of his own, he needed a change of pace, or so he once said to Mia. The teen turned on the only light and tried to locate the source of the humming. She moved slowly through the room so as not to wake her father.
There were boxes of various shapes and sizes in the attic, as well as sports equipment, old clothing, various knickknacks and an old glass aquarium. The largest item was the antique mirror in the far right corner of the attic. It stood nearly six-feet tall and there was a long blanket covering the glass. The humming was clearly coming from that direction, but Mia froze in place. Jake’s body was found in front of that mirror. Mia’s hands shook as she stared at the aged item. Part of her felt like she was violating her brother’s privacy, but she had to find out what was making that sound.
Mia swallowed hard and inched her way toward the source of the sound. She removed the long blanket and felt an odd vibration coming from the mirror. She looked closely at the glass for several minutes, but saw only her reflection and the image of her surroundings. Her curly blond hair hung lazily over her face, nearly hiding her vibrant, blue eyes. Mia’s toned limbs and tanned skin were the result of many hours on the soccer field.
The humming increased. The temperature in the room seemed to rise. Mia wiped sweat from her forehead. She suddenly felt compelled to touch the center of the glass. She pressed the fingers of her right hand against the smooth surface and quickly pulled bac
k. The glass was hot. She blew on her fingers. The urge intensified and she touched the glass again. A sharp, hot pain suddenly ripped through her entire body. She tried to pull away but was unable to do so. Her skin felt like it was sizzling and her eyes filled with tears. Suddenly, everything went dark and she collapsed to the floor.
Mia woke up with a pounding headache. She rubbed her eyes and tried to figure out what had happened. She quickly realized that she was no longer in the attic. Instead, she was outside, lying on what felt like sand with an orange-pink sun blazing down on her. Mia stood up and looked around, but she didn’t recognize where she was. She saw sand everywhere, slopes of it that stretched out for miles. She also saw thorny, waist-high brown plants, various rock formations and very little green vegetation. A reptilian creature the size of a house cat raced across the dry land and disappeared in a cloud of sand dust. Mia rubbed her eyes again and wondered if she were dreaming, but she had never dreamt something so intensely visual before.
She took a few cautions steps and tried to figure out what had happened. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw something moving toward her. Mia spun and screamed