All of This for a Child

Sunlight slips through the window caressing my cheeks with warmth. The rest of my body has already been warmed by the warmth of my parents. They face each other with their arms draped over me and wrapped around each other. I try to snuggle closer to both of them at once. My mother is awakened by my soft movements, giggling a little.

"Bella, darling, you're tickling me," she mumbles softly but her voice is happy not annoyed.

I don't remember crawling into bed with them. In fact, I don't remember crawling into bed at all. I must have dozed off. I feel my cheeks begin to burn as I realize they must know or suspect that I heard everything they said out on the porch. My father's eyes flutter open and he looks at me like one looks at a treasure. A smile flickers across his lips for a moment.

"Don't tickle your mother. That's my job," he says softly.

I giggle causing my mother to giggle again, a more womanly version of my own. Then we are all giggling for what seems like no real reason. But the giggling doesn't hurt. It doesn't feel wrong. It lets me forget for a second that anything can happen and my world can go spiraling down in an instant. An instant is all it ever takes.

The roar of a single gunshot explodes into the stillness of the countryside. For a moment, I let myself dare believe that it is only a poacher, illegally shooting one of the wild creatures of the forest in the middle of the summer. My parents' faces mirror the dread that is in my heart. Seconds later, William's unceremonious entry into the bedroom confirms my fear.

"I'm sorry. I knew this would be too dangerous," he addresses himself to my parents, "But we all have to get out of here right now."

He tosses a small handgun to my father. "Use this if you have to and don't follow us. It's Bella they want."

His face is grim. Blood trickles from a gash across the back of his hand. He is sweating and does not seem able to stand still. He surveys the room, looking worriedly out the window, as he releases his hold on the gun with his left hand and reaches out for my hand, "Bella, honey, please..."

My father and mother both reach their arms around me. Each kisses a cheek and then they push me toward him, "We love you."

They say it in unison as tears trickle down their cheeks.

"I know," I reply, "I love you."

No other words can come from me. I feel my own eyes filling with tears. William pulls me gently toward the door. My bare feet slip on the hardwood floor, but he does not let me fall. I feel a slight pull as he brings me back to my feet. As we leave the door, my mother calls to me again, "Bella."

"Momma," I turn to look at her.

She dashes away a tear and then smiles at me, "Remember what I promised you."

For a moment, I have no idea what she is referring to, but then it strikes me, "Family is Forever.". I nod in response as William pulls me through the doorway and into the hall. Sunlight pours through the skylight, making the polished wood of the stairwell gleam. As I trace the slender patterns of thin branches overhead, a thicker shadow looms over it. William notices it at the same second and pulls me down the stairs as glass shatters and pours over the stairs, cascading down in a tinkling waterfall. I hear my father's heavy tread as he races toward the hallway.

I can not see him. All I see is a wall of dark flames racing toward my face as William drags me off of the stairs. A shot erupts from the upper level and the dragon turns to face it. My heart seems to freeze in me. I know that I shall never see my father again, and I fear that I may have already lost him. I stop. William pulls on my arm. I resist.

"Bella, come on," he says.

The tension in his voice is like a slap across the face. My feet obey him though I feel I have left my heart behind that billowing wall of flames. Another gunshot comes from upstairs and the dragon writhes. Its tail cuts through the air only inches from my head. William is still dragging me to the door.

We are outside now. Sunlight is pouring through the trees, unaware that it wont pierce the darkness that pursues us. I smell wildflowers in bloom. It seems so peaceful and then a gunshot erupts over my head and I turn to follow the trail of the bullet. I look just in time to see a bullet ripping through one of the glazed, staring eyes of an old man in coveralls. Instead of blood pouring out, I see the same black ooze. The man does not fall down as he should.

Instead he shakes his head sending splatters of this oily liquid across the porch. William's voice is commanding me to run. I obey. My feet seem to be racing far too slowly to keep up, but William is not letting go of me. He just keeps turning around long enough to aim and fire. I see the vague forms of people racing toward us, but I no longer want to look at them. I don't want to know how many of them there are. I don't want to look into their empty eyes.

I can hear them breathing. I imagine I feel their hands reaching out to me. I hear some of them making guttural squeals like wild animals in pursuit of game. My core shudders and I feel like I will be sick. I feel myself slowing down. Something in me wants to give in to this. I want to stop running. I want to stop putting people I care about in danger. I try to slip my hand out of William's grasp.

"No, you don't," he says, tightening his grip and sending another volley of gunshot into the face of one of the creatures pursuing us.

He slips the gun into his belt and grabs me with his other hand just as I have disengaged myself from his grip. His arms are more powerful than I remembered as he hoists me over his shoulder and carries me the last couple of feet to the truck. Surprisingly, they have not thought to guard it and he unlocks the door swiftly with a minimal amount of heart-wrenching fumbling.

Then William is pulling me off of his shoulder and shoving me into the truck. The blanket I had snuggled in on the journey up slips to the floor. I don't know why I notice this, but while William is starting the truck, I am pulling the blanket back off of the floor. I pull it hastily across my shoulders as if it can protect me from the creatures that pursue us. He curses as the engine half turns over and then dies. One of the creatures is beating on the window beside me. I turn to look into the dead eyes of a pale face.

The eyes seem to darken as I look at them. The woman's thin lips twist into a smile that chills me. Then the engine roars into life and the horrible face is left behind. Only a thin print of dark sludge is left to gaze at me from the window. I turn to look at William. He glances at me.

"Don't you ever give up, Bellabooo. You must have more strength than even you know," he says.

"I'm only a child," I reply.

He does not deny me that. He just pushes his foot harder on the gas pedal as the tires spin gravel out behind us like shrapnel toward the creatures which still pursue us down the winding mountain road.