TEENS BY DAY, THINGS BY NIGHT

Three oppressive eyes stared back at them, one belonging to a .455 Webley Lancaster pistol.

Only one must die.

Listening adamantly was an exhausted slender-faced old man whose grey hair flowed and glittered when less tousled.

This old man turned and waved at the full-length mirror that leaned against the wall. Nothing reflected. A passing wind suggested that he reveal himself. He objected.

“Don’t kill me please, my mother is in prison.” Liam pleaded, calling back the old man who’d momentarily fallen deep in thought.

“I am not that nice and you know it. Tell me, did mummy ask you to do this?”

Liam held onto his reply. And the red in the face of their assailant signified mercy wasn’t nearby. So was the shivering of index finger against the cold trigger.

Suddenly, BANG!

Oh, how awful it looked. To cry or to laugh, Jessica knew not which would be better.

They all gazed at it, bemused at what might be the possible cause.

After agonizingly ramming his head into the window, the old man’s sheer dumb luck, for two seconds, appeared to have saved the day. Then...

“I am not nice and you know it. If you move another inch, your brains would be blown out.”

Liam immediately sat back on the bed. Jessica began blocking the aim.

Hopeless and dejected, the old man settled next to the book shelf. Little did he know that, as authors help us all, a collection of famed novelists gunned to his help. He listened quietly, submissively, as inspiration poured over him.

Moments later, the .455 Webley Lancaster landed on the floor. Liam raced for it, as did the attacker. Jessica watched as one picked the deadly weapon while the other struggled to gain it, triggering an accidental discharge.

“I am going to where I always wanted, honey. I did, do, and always will love you.”

William’s athleticism is by far his most remarkable trait. His sharp blue eyes blended well with his hair and he was tall enough but not too thin. It is expected that even to the sickest of jokes, he would allow his slim lips that curve that immediately attracted the girls. Liam was all but a perfect boy, thank you very much.

Jessica was just as tall, lean, and loving. These days, if she merely returned your hi and smile, your girlfriend was sure to obtain a breakup. But, you see, this girl would’ve been less beautiful had it not been for deformity in her eyes—a central heterochromia—which gave one of her irises an olive color in contrast to the other blue—that’s why she believes Liam has always been a part of her. On her cheeks were dimples that made her smile always craved, but sadly, hers was a strict sense of humor.

At No. 38 Windwill Street was a flat building with remarkable bow windows, black railings, and round balconies, where two families resided opposite each other: The Altmans and The Gladcountrys.

Many good years ago, the inseparable Mr. Altman and Mr. Gladcountry went to the same college, studied the same discipline, and married the same day of the same women one approved to the other. Even when employment went to diminutive supply across the country, Mr. Altman took up writing while Mr. Gladcountry declared he was now an editor. It so happened that all of Collins Altman’s works Phillip Gladcountry edited.

One faithful November morning, the two men died side by side after a prolonged battle with the same tubercular infection. Authoritatively, their wills each stated half of one’s estate be given to the other. Mr. Altman put it that ‘even half of my beloved Jessica be given to my brother’s family, for I am certain she will be well preserved.’

But here we are ten years later.

“God mum!” Jessica sighed “Everyone in my class knows you have a sleeping sickness. You don’t sleep well, you sleep unnecessarily. There is a difference.” Jessica replied her mum.

“There are a lot of things you have to grow to appreciate, honey. I am not arguing that one with you.” Mrs. Roselyn Altman repeated the old inelegant chestnut.

“But sacrifice a week or two.” She continued, “Sleep well like I do. Your life will never be the same again.”

Jessica nodded, “Yes mum, I think I should do that.” Tears collected in her eyes, only waiting for a blink.

“Really, when?” asked an excited Mrs. Altman.

“When I get to my grave, mother.” Jessica hurried away, breaking down along the way.

It was the anniversary of both their parents and around eight in the morning, Jessica found her mother dozing near the gas burner. She walked into the kitchen just in the nick of time to inform her that she was gradually getting in the flame and that Liam would be dropping her at school for an unscheduled test.

“You can’t go with that boy. You have to understand that they don’t like us.” Mrs. Altman startled awake.

“I will be just fine, mum. And besides your relationship with his mother is a far cry from mine and Liam’s.”

Mrs. Altman had gotten annoyed. “Talk to me with some respect, I am your Mother.”

“That’s not in contention.” Jessica laughed to the door and unsuccessfully asked Liam in.

“I am not nice. If anything happens to my daughter, that thing must happen to you as well. If she gets an itch, get a tear, if she gets touched, get a black eye. I am warning you personally.”

“We will stay out of trouble, ma’am.” Liam assured from the door where he stood.

At the prison, the stocky old warden who had ‘Jacob’ on his name tag called it an unusual request for an inmate to see two visitors at a time. He was as annoying as his impolite words.

Inside the room Liam was taken were a table and two chairs.

“Sit here, don’t touch or look at anything. She will be with you shortly” Officer Jacob said. Lam giggled as the warden left the room. On the buttocks of his trousers was a tear that revealed his inner shorts. Liam covered his mouth with the sleeve of his jacket once the warden turned.

“You’re okay, boy?” Jacob asked.

“Yes sir, just burping.”

A minute later came a familiar voice from outside. “My darling cupid. The fair smile on my lips. The sweet apple of my eyes.” Then in came cuffed hands. Liam glanced up to meet his mother’s tender gaze.

“Are you all right mum?” Liam asked.

“They do what they have to do; I do what I have to do.” Mrs. Gladcountry answered.

“I miss you mum. It’s been a week but it feels like a decade. What you get when you have the best in the world.”

“Oh dear cupid,” she felt his cheek. “How are you?”

“Fine. I came with Jessica. She had to lie to her mother that we have a test just to say hi to you but they wouldn’t allow her in.” Liam said.

“Last time, you said something about examination, right dear?” Mrs. Gladcountry digressed.

“Yes, we are starting this week.” He answered casually.

“What’s wrong Liam, haven’t you been studying?” Mrs. Gladcountry asked.

“I have mum, mostly with Jessica these days.”

As though the name ‘Jessica’ irritated her, Mrs. Gladcountry again strayed off. “I almost forgot. Have you spoken with the tenants?”

“Eric promised to give me a call within the week.” answered Liam.

“You have to remember to remain focused if you truly want to be a doctor. Read as...”

“Time up cupid.” the warden interrupted.

On their way back, Liam hadn’t driven a good ten minutes when his brakes urgently begged. The van made a screeching noise. Jessica thought she saw a man fall from the sky just before her face hit the hard outdated dashboard.

“Why the hell would you do that, mate?” Liam raged at once.

“A most conscientious way to speak to the elderly, wouldn’t it?” A calm old man struggled to stand not up to three yards away.

“I am the one at fault for not ramming you over, that would be more conscientious I think.” He and Jessica leapt out of the van.

“I am just from Wellington. It was a horrible meeting, I must say. Sorry Pal.” He glanced at Jessica then bowed, “Apologies, my lovely!”

Liam felt Jessica’s hand pat him on the back. She’d noticed she was bleeding.

“Lets go.” Liam held her to the van.

The old man gazed unhappily. I won’t forgive myself if I don’t tender a more proper apology.

Liam entered the van and shut the door a millisecond after the old man also invisibly slipped in.

Jessica glanced at Liam. “I am fine” she assured. “It isn’t your fault and you know it.”

“Then perhaps, we should get to a hospital.”

She sniggered, “Shut up.” Two drops of blood landed on her blue jean trouser. She quickly took her head up.

“Your mother is gonna kill me.” Liam grunted. “And you know she is not nice.”

“She certainly will.” Jessica concurred, “But only if she gets to know.”

Their old companion instantly had a raised eyebrow.

Liam sighed deeply, started the ignition, and matched the throttle. “Agreed.”

It took ten minutes for Jessica’s bleeding to halt and double that time for Liam to swerve into Windwill Street. A few hundred meters from the block of flats where they lived was a big shop. Liam made a stop there. Traces of dry blood had clung to Jessica’s nose and hand.

Their passenger at the backseat was also hoping to have a glance at today’s magazines before leaving London. Liam and Jessica exited the van, unaware that on their tail was an old man.

Only when a heavy metal clanged on the floor did the old man realize he might have been absent minded. He took his eyes off the glossy magazines and invisibly strode across all four aisles of the shop. He saw neither Liam nor Jessica.

He went out. The van was gone. What have these magazines cost me?

“Are you going to start studying now?” Jessica asked. They had gotten home, about to enter opposite flats.

“Yea, You?” asked Liam.

“No, have to take a nap.” Jessica answered unenthusiastically.

“See you tomorrow then.” Liam said as he brought out a key.

“Hey, uh, you want to check up on me later?” asked Jessica.

“Absolutely. But your mum is not nice.” He smiled, hoping she’s not listening.

“Why don’t you start being nice by saying okay I am gonna come.” Jessica went into her flat while shutting the door behind her.

“Okay I am gonna come.” Said he in a tone louder than his usual.

They parted, Jessica to take a nap and Liam to take a book.

The old man stood outside the shop, grumbling to himself. The woman beside him briskly walked away once she heard murmurs but saw no one.

Around the big shop were buildings big and small, but mostly residential. From the children’s conversation, he surmised that they lived around. Although the city was getting dark, he hoped his luck would shine.

Watchfully, he began around the street with wandering eyes, hoping to come across any sign. A young couple strolled on the pavement. He became elated, thinking them to be the boy and girl. Not so.

After reaching the T-junction that led out of the street, he became completely disheartened. Where could they possibly be? Even their van is nowhere in sight.

He relaxed his exhausted back on a nondescript tall building for thirty minutes; afterwards becoming convinced that he had to move on. He made himself visible and set off with defeated eyes. Out of annoyance, he resolved to get on the next flight out. But not much distance did he walk when he took notice of a young demon aiming to jump down one of the balconies of a block of flats.

In the meantime, Jessica heard the doorbell ring twice.

“Hey,” He said.

“Hey.” Jessica replied with a tired smile.

“Bad time?” Liam asked.

“No, it’s fine.”

Liam composed and then whispered to her. “Is your mum around?”

“I think she’s asleep.” Jessica whispered back.

Liam sighed in relief. “How is the bleeding? Did you take a nap? Did she notice anything?”

“I feel good. Yes, and no she didn’t. What time is it?” Jessica asked.

“To seven,” answered Liam. “You’ve got something to do?”

“No, just wanted to know how long I’ve been asleep.” She rubbed her palms against her drowsy eyes.

“Nice.” Liam stroked his hair. “I am studying chemistry. Can we talk later?”

“I dreamt about a boy today and in the dream I would dream about him every day of my life. Does that make any sense?

“Yea, I think it does. Nothing you say, much less dream, never makes sense darling.”

Jessica blushed. “I have some lemonade in the fridge, want some?”

“I do not know how to say no to lemonades. But are you sure that your mum is asleep?”

Jessica rubbed her eyes again, embarrassed that she’d lied. “No, honestly am not. But then why don’t we go to your place?”

“She’s going to think I suggested the whole thing.”

“I will say it was my idea.” Jessica persuaded.

Liam scoffed. “Fine. I got that. Get the lemonade.”

“I might need a second to wear my pyjamas.”

While sitting in an armchair in his flat ten minutes later, Liam heard the door open.

“Here babe.” Jessica put a glass of lemonade on a stool beside him.

“Thanks” he said and took a swig. “What would I do without you?”

“Boy, you do know how to flatter...” Jessica chuckled. “What’s that?” she pointed to an empty cardboard box on the center table.

“I have been preserving the letters you’ve written me. From first to last.”

She glanced at the box unbelievably. “Are you trying to pull my legs?”

“No.”

“Lying Liam.” She smiled.

“I am serious. The letters are in my room” Said Liam reluctantly.

“I must see them if I must believe you.” Jessica dared.

“Come on.” Liam stood. Jessica started pushing him with both her hands.

When they entered the room, Liam ducked and pulled out an older cardboard box from under his bed.

Jessica widened her eyes, marveled at the romantic gesture. “Give me a minute.” She raced out. It was hard to tell what would come next.

With a hand-lot of papers, she returned and sat next to him, shoulder to shoulder, then began to read those he’d sent her that she’d preserved as well. Liam smiled. He’s loving this love.

On one of the chairs of the wooden dinning set, Mrs. Altman opened her eyes. She’d just had her most terrible dream yet. The face of the messenger wasn’t clear but his voice spoke with real urgency, as was his message. “Jessica was in the opposite apartment and in trouble.” The young man then ran out to the balcony.

The old man watched keenly as the demon dropped from the balcony. The gentle-looking ponytailed demon did not fall on the ground because he had already seen a beautiful female dog he’d love to possess. The bitch was on a walk with an old woman.

The old man was furious.

He got irritated whenever a demon possessed innocent humans or animals.

Immediately after she’d been possessed, the hairy bitch turned at her owner with a bite to the Achilles. The old man dashed there.

Aware of the old man’s advance, the demon fled and went into a man standing by the street and making a phone call. Next thing, the man slammed the phone on the tarred ground, shattering it to pieces.

By all indications, the old man gathered, this demon has something curious about him. He is exhibiting a great amount of irrational enthusiasm.

Down the street minutes later, more than a dozen people were arguing, quarrelling, or engaged in full physical combat. One very little boy had deliberately touched a lady where he shouldn’t have. She was incensed.

The old man kept on, disgusted at the demon’s every move. He, the demon, having noticed the old man’s ardor, swiftly took off his shirt and began to run until he airlifted, gaining a speed that only a rocket could rival. The old man was impressed but not necessarily overwhelmed.

Studying the projectile’s travel, the old man quickly slipped out his wand and vanished into thin air.

His mother asked him to kill Jessica my beloved daughter, Roselyn told herself as she sprang up. She also remembered that occasion had come for an old little pistol in her wardrobe. When she got hold of it, there was just one rusty bullet in the magazine. She tiptoed out, but not without checking Jessica’s room. It was empty. But the clothes she wore earlier were flung about on her bed. She was rushed, probably kidnapped.

“Foolish Jessica!” She loudly said as she hurried out of her flat. “I always knew he would harm her, given the chance.”

At the door of the Gladcountrys’, Mrs. Altman turned the doorknob and pushed. The door wasn’t locked.

He intends to quietly murder her and make it look like it wasn’t him. That way, he would evade any suspicion, she thought. Sounds and laughter softly echoed throughout the house. She listened in.

As the sounds became ever more audible, she slowly, quietly, went nearer with a drawn firearm. No mercy, she finalized.

When he reappeared, the old man conceded, finalizing that he was having a bad day. It didn’t look like there was a scoundrel any where around here much less a demon. Suddenly he heard a sturdy man.

“What has come over you Michelle? Where are you going? I don’t get it that you wanna get hit by a car, and die.” The man went after a girl who was advancing the main road.

“Leukemia isn’t a death warrant, baby. You can’t say you want to die and leave me and your mom. I promise am gonna do anything, anything to make you survive. Come back baby.”

“Just go away dad. I wanna die.” She shouted, only to be seized by the invisible old man who had a raised wand.

With his left hand, the old man snatched the girl’s hair while pointing his wand at her chest with his right.

“Behold the naughty demon.” The old man stated. “Do I look familiar?” he asked.

“Just noticed your wand...my lord.” The demon respectfully said with the girl’s vocal cavity.

“Then that will save us precious time. And for your own good, do not flatter me.” The old man stated, looking relentlessly at the girl, as though trying to recall something.

“My words are genuine, sir.” The demon said.

“At the moment, is your case pending before the court of appeal?”

“Yes.”

“Are you Johnny MacGriefstricken?”

“Yes sir.”

“Yet so humble, so young, so promising. Why did you commit an offence to warrant expulsion to earth?”

The demon said nothing. Michelle’s father was gob smacked. His daughter’s hair was pulled back and she happened to be talking to herself.

“I am calling police.” He said to no one in particular while pulling out, amidst a few gathered people, a cheap handset from his pocket.

“Hurry and do that sir.” They all could hear but were certain it came from neither the girl nor anyone evidently present there.

“Young lad, where were you before possessing that poor little dog? I saw everything after then.”

“I was at the London eye.”

“What evil did you cause there?”

“Um… a car accident. A man and a child lost their lives.” The demon stammered.

“I can show you live pictures, the London eye is in jolly mood at present.” After sighing, he continued. “Tell me the truth this minute. I can curse you with madness and make you burn to ashes. Or I can make you return to Havrington and be washed of any crime. You have one last chance to speak the truth. Make your choice.” The old man brought his wand dangerously close to the girl’s neck.

The demon sighed, showing he’d been coerced. “A boy and girl in a room. I notified the girl’s mother to put things right.” He uttered.

The old man smiled majestically.

“This boy and girl, what were they doing?” Asked the old man.

The demon hesitated “Reading letters to one another, my lord.”

“What are their names?” asked the old man.

“Jessica, I’ve known no girl with her beauty. I do not know the boy’s name sir.”

Police sirens echoed from afar.

“You are taking me to that house.” The old man said. A shy audacious hope lingered in his mind; it might be the boy and girl I seek.

“I have a party I must attend…” Johnny begged.

“Obey before complain.” The old man finalized.

The old man and the demon reached the flat building in a matter of seconds.

“You wait at the door.” The old man told Johnny and entered inside the apartment of the Gladcountrys in his unseen form. His ear registered a sound and he walked straight to the room where the sound came.

The old man jumped in joy.

Then all of a sudden, the door was thrown open. The old man sharply tilted his head with his wand held up. An angry ugly woman stormed in. Not a wand but an old-fashioned multi-barrelled pistol was in her grasp.

As we speak however, the trigger had already been pulled. Lying on the floor, a figure desperately gasped for breath. This is the beginning of the two children who couldn’t live without one another.