Michael Seidlinger - Falter Kingdom

The article says exorcizing the demon is best during stage one, but it is possible up until the end of stage two. But by stage three, the human body is so run-down that an exorcism, “though possible,” ends with “the host in a critical state.” Damn. How do you take that information?

I’m having a hard time even making sense of it.

Demons. They’re all around us. Happens all the time.

But never to “you.” Until it actually does.

And then you’re…

I…

A cold shiver runs through my entire body.

“Hunter?”

I watch Becca blast me with more messages.

I sense it somewhere, watching, and there’s nothing I can do about it.

In bed, I’m able to feel a little bit safe, but three A.M. will arrive, and even if I do sleep, I’ll probably wake up.

Becca says, “Keep chatting with me. I’ll stay up all night.”

And she would and I tell her how much it means to me, but in fewer than a dozen messages, I think I fall asleep because everything goes blank and I don’t wake up until it’s morning.

I WAKE UP LATE. I’M GOING TO BE LATE FOR CLASS. BUTmaybe that’s a good thing. I don’t get out of bed, even though I feel like shit, stinking of late-night sweats. First thing I think about is how I was talking to Becca before, I guess, I fell asleep. Thing about that is I don’t really feel like I slept at all. I yawn and feel pressure on my forehead — a headache coming on. I look at the laptop at my side, on standby, and press a key to wake it up. I check our chat history.

After around one A.M., it’s all Becca, mostly saying things like:

“Hunter?”

“Hunter what happened?”

“Hunter you’re scaring me.”

I scroll up to the last thing I said: “Something’s in this room with me.”

I stare at what I said. I… don’t know what to think.

Other messages include more about what happened in the shower, how my phone disappeared and ended up with my dad. The whispers.

And I ask her at one point, “Do you really love me?”

Wow, that’s just embarrassing.

Like, really?

Anyway, I look at what we talked about and feel strange because I don’t remember any of it. I wonder if this is normal. Does this happen so soon? Another symptom?

Hey, but Becca came through as always. She’s going to get this taken care of. This is what I’m talking about, I think. I mean, I despise her most of the time and I wish I could just break up with her and enjoy being single for the rest of my senior year, but that takes so much effort, you know?

I know I think about this a lot. But unlike most things, I don’t find it any easier the more I think about it. I don’t see it happening. She’s there, and she’s been at my side for as long as there could be anyone at my side. It helps when you’ve got someone who does everything for you.

But at the same time I feel bad, because that’s also what my mom tries to do, smother me and stuff, and it’s kind of like saying, I’ll let her but I won’t let you.

But feelings are like that. They are complicated.

I don’t know what to feel about what’s going on. That’s a good example.

Another complicated situation is the shower situation.

No way I’m going back in there.

I’ll brush my teeth at school.

I’ll use the gym showers during lunch period or something.

I’ll boycott that bathroom.

Guess I shouldn’t — facing your fears is important, right?

But then I’m rushing to get to school on time because I’ve been absent a lot.

First period’s already started when I pull into my parking space, but she’s right there, sitting cross-legged on the sidewalk. I shut the engine off and walk over, sit next to her. She doesn’t say anything. I don’t say anything. When I try to hug her, she pushes me away.

“It’s just…” Then she stands up. “The way you touch me, it’s different. Like colder or whatever.”

I guess it’s to be expected. She was going to do this.

“Don’t be mad, ‘kay? Like, it’s just my imagination but I… want us to keep some distance until we get this fixed.”

I shrug. “Sure, whatever.”

“You sound mad.”

I’m not mad but I go with it, because I don’t have to even say why I’d be mad, it’s all laid out for me. “Maybe.”

“Hunter…” She kneels next to me. “I just don’t want to be near that thing. And if it’s attached to you… if we, like, do anything… even a kiss, it’s…”

It’s hard to explain, I know.

“You know?”

But in this case, I’ll pretend I don’t. “Whatever.”

Becca brought to her knees…

“I’m sorry, so sorry.” She hugs me but there’s nothing to it. Like she hugs me in a way where her arms wrap around me but there’s no feeling.

I sit here until she leaves, swearing that nothing’s changed.

But everything’s going to change.

I think that long before I even realize.

Walking the halls is different today. But this isn’t really surprising. Tell Becca and the whole world will know. That means I need to figure out how to explain it to Jon-Jon. That means I need to get ready to never hear the end of it from Blaire. That also means, ah, shit, Brad being Brad. He’s going to be an asshole about it, I’m sure.

But the school, it changes shape. Becca wants to keep her distance and suddenly I walk the halls and people… I don’t know all their names, but I think one girl’s named Stephanie and that guy saying, “Hell yeah, man,” is named Raul — I think we talked a little when we had summer school that one time back in… junior year? Anyway, word gets around, yeah. And real quick, like anything else.

Everyone at Meadows, including the teachers, knows that I ran the gauntlet and I succeeded.

Meaning, I’m haunted.

But that’s kind of the point people are trying to prove when they decide to run. They face the darkness of that tunnel and they face the fears of Falter Kingdom. They run because, if they do, they’ll be remembered for it.

I want to believe that I ran for the same reasons.

I’ve gone on about this, I think, but it’s hard to do much of anything today. The halls are full of faces that congratulate me on what happened.

What did I do, I mean really?

From a sophomore who says he ran it too but lasted only, like, five minutes: “You rule.”

From another senior from last period, Greg I think is his name: “Never thought you had it in you.” I never knew that we knew each other, just saying.

From a freshman new to the high school game: “Like, what was it like? You’ve got it made if you run and nab a demon. Can you teach me, man?”

From a junior who plays on the Meadows varsity basketball team: “Motherfucker, now that’s big!”

From another senior, but someone I don’t recognize: “Yo, it’s Chris. We know each other from somewhere, right?”

From Blaire, who I meet on the way to the restroom just because I couldn’t stand sitting in class anymore: “I knew before even you knew. I want you to know that. Tell that demon to really mess you up, make it count.”

“Blaire!” I try to talk to her, but yeah, trying and doing are two different things. She’ll come around eventually. I’m not going to bother. This is what usually happens. Since grade school, one thing sets her off and it’s a week of not talking and then, suddenly, it’s back to normal.

I wish things would go back to normal.

From the start of the day, it goes on like this. It’s overwhelming but also kind of cool. But then lunch happens, and that means Brad.

I’m standing in line for food, not making eye contact, while Matthew, a guy from last period, chats with me, but really it’s that he’s chatting to me, and I’m not really listening. I’m not even trying to hold a conversation. He’s talking about music. A local scene or something where there’s a lot of cool basement shows. He’s talking to me about it like he’s trying to sell me on going to one.