Story #133 - What They Don't See

What They Don't See

“Why did you kill Doctor Kellor, exactly?”

She'd heard the same question again and again, and it was beginning to get wearing. The gray-haired woman in front of her was simply one of many who was trying to “figure her out” so that they could either confine her to an institution for life or move her straight into the penal system.

“Piss off.” Her tone was sharp. She was normally a very polite girl, but she'd had enough with the same questions over and over again. She'd answered every one truthfully, but then been told that she was lying. She'd done nothing but give sane and sober answers, and had been informed she was insane.

That had taken a toll on her morale.

She shifted in her seat; the plastic handcuffs they'd taken to using were better than the metal variety, but still began to dig in after time. It wasn't that she didn't understand their reasoning – after Kellor died with a pen to the throat, it was hard to make the case that she should be allowed free access with her hands to anything in the room. She had tried to explain what had happened – it was all just a terrible accident – but none of them would listen.

If she were in their place, she probably wouldn't listen either.

“Sindy, that's not a very nice thing to say.” Grey-hair's voice was like that of a disapproving mother or grandmother. She obviously hadn't read Sindy's file too closely – an abusive family life and both parents dead before she was sixteen meant that she had little respect for those in authority, especially those who tried to curb her language.

She had done so well, everyone said, right up until – well, no one knew what happened, but they all assumed she just went “crazy”. It was her own fault, she chided herself as she looked across the table at the older woman, whose hands were locked firmly around her pen – she should never have told anyone the truth.

Everyone saw things they couldn't explain, and most chalked it up to lack of food or sleep. Few considered the possibility that it might be something more, and those that usually managed to scare themselves enough that they stopped searching and went back to pretending the world was safe and sound.

For Sindy, there had been no choice in the matter. A blackened, formless shape had appeared next to her one day, and followed her home from school. It went with her everywhere – from her bedroom to the bathroom, down to dinner and then into the common area of the foster home. It didn't say anything, didn't do anything, just floated beside her and watched.

She told someone about it, and started getting “help”.

Help meant she was told that what she was seeing wasn't real, even though she knew better. As time went on, she began to see more and more of the shapes, and she realized with horror that each one was feeding on a human. She seemed to have escaped unharmed – perhaps they didn't like her flavor, but everyone else in her life seemed to be fair game. Sindy had tried to shoo away the ones she saw on her closest friends, but her hands passed right through them, causing them to ripple in silent laughter.

Kellor had three of them on him the last time they had met, and one snapped at her when he had come close to examine her. A pen she'd been fiddling with became a spike, and Kellor's head ended up with a new hole.

“Tell you what, Granny. Unite me and I'll be nicer.” She bore no malice toward the stocky woman in front of her, but her patience was wearing thin. She knew she wasn't crazy, but they were beginning to push her over the edge.

“I don't think so, Sindy,” she said, frowning, “I think you'll stay right where you are, and you'll tell me what I need to know.” A hard tone now, as if she were on the cusp of sending Sindy to bed without dinner. Ineffective.

Two shadows poked out from behind the old woman, darting in front of her face as if to say, “why can't you see us? We're right here!' , but of course they garnered no response.

Sindy felt her blood boil; there was something about her she shadows hated. If only she could figure out what it was.

“You know everything already, if you've bothered to read my file. I've told every one of your kind the truth, but you all want to tell me I'm a liar.”

“Sindy,” the woman's voice was low, soothing. “We just want to help.”

She grunted in response. There was nothing they could do.

One of the shadows perked up and removed glistening fangs from where it had embedded them in the older woman's neck, and then dashed across the intervening space toward Sindy. She knew it couldn't harm her, but it took all of her strength not to flinch.

“I hate you,” she thought as hard as she could, and was startled to see the shape freeze in mid-air as it if had struck a wall. What was this?

“I hate you so much. I wish I could hate you to death.” Her second thought was harder, more ferocious, and she was rewarded with a keening wail, one that rose in pitch as the moment slipped past. From the old woman's face, it was obvious she heard it as well.

There was the sound of inruhsing air and a form appeared, hovering in the middle of the room. Black and twisted, the shadowy shape fell to the ground, writhing, and then puffed into nothingness, leaving only a black and oily residue to mark its passing.

Sindy looked up at the old woman, eyes hard. “Who's crazy now, Grandma?”

-D