Page 3 of Kane

It’s different; scary even.

“I don’t have any time for talking, and neither do you, you prick,” Daddy says, his voice scarier than any monster. There’s a strange clicking sound and then Mama screams, “No! Don’t shoot him! It’s me, I’m the one you want!”

Voices bleed into each other; making it hard to tell what they’re saying clearly. My eyes stay shut because I’m afraid of what I’ll see, what I’ll never be able to unsee. But I’m also afraid that if I never open them, I might never see Mama or Daddy again. The sound of another gunshot rings out, and Daddy growls his wolfy growl as someone shouts to cuff him, and someone else hollers, “You’re under arrest.” I hear Daddy spit, hear him call someone a bad name while an unfamiliar voice calls for someone else. Someone whose name I don’t remember.

“She’s bleeding out!” they say. Another voice screams for help while someone else yells, “The basement! Go now!”

“Kathan…” Mama whispers my name softly, like a prayer. She sounds far away. Like she’s underwater.

I know I should keep my eyes closed, but her voice, the faint whisper, is too much and my eyes flutter open. Her bright blue eyes stare back at me, darker than usual. Like the light in them has gone out; like the shadows have finally taken over for good.

“Mama…” I whisper, trying to keep my voice low. I want to move. Want to go to her, to touch her, but I…

I can’t.

“I love you, baby,” she says, her voice fading as her eyes shut.

I watch as the policeman forces Daddy outside, as men in dark suits with guns run into the house in all directions. My eyes fall onto Mama, in front of the slats. She lays there, still like a statue.

Like she’s playin’ dead.

“Mama…” I whisper, but she doesn't answer. Footsteps sound as someone kneels beside her, while the other moves over her, blocking my view.

“Where’s the kid?” someone asks.

“What kid?”

“You sure there’s a kid?” someone else says.

“Yeah. I’m positive.”

“Maybe he’s at a friend’s.”

The man who knows about me must be confused. I don’t have any friends. I haven’t even gone to school yet because Mama says it’s too dangerous, and I’m safer here, at home.

With her…

“Doubt it. He’s got to be here somewhere.”

“Unless the bastard killed him, too.”

Killed?

Somewhere inside, I know what’s happened, though I refuse to believe it.

Mama was just breathing… she was just bleeding… she’ll… she’ll be okay…

She’s always okay…

That man’s going to help her, I just know it.

Because that’s what policemen do. They help people.

A small squeak leaves my throat as the truth tries to wedge itself inside of me.

You hear that?” the sharp, masculine voice says. Then a man turns to look directly at the closet. At the slats. He’s a man I recognize; one of Mama’s friends. His name is Jasper Carson, I think. He always brings me gummy bears when he visits. He and Mama spend a lot of time together, mostly at night when Daddy isn’t here.

Though Jasper isn’t dressed like he usually is when I see him. He’s got more clothes on, for one; but these clothes look different. Like a uniform. Like a…