Aidan was alone. Once again it was as if his family had left him. He shuddered at the thought.
Zeke was gone all the time, either sulking or sneaking away to see Lacy. He thought it was great that Zeke had found someone, but he missed his friend.
He sat miserably on the couch, his chin resting in his hands, as he watched the younger kids talking excitedly about what would happen the next day after classes. Tomorrow was Friday, and the younger ones always looked forward to it.
Today, the impending line up just made him feel more alone. When he couldn't take it anymore, he got up and walked outside, opting to sit on the dusty curb outside the orphanage instead.
He sat under the shade of the big oak and watched a group of kids across the street play basketball on the court.
Aidan looked down the street both ways. It was beautiful in both directions for as far as he could see, except for the rusted group home. The residents had every reason to be upset when the home was constructed. The administrator was just looking for a quick buck, and hadn't wasted any more money than he had to on the home.
The kids sneered at him when they realized that he was watching, but Aidan didn't care. The players soon lost his interest, however, and he found himself scanning the street.
He glanced down a side street and noticed a strange white van parked on the side of the road. It was old and rusting, and completely out of place. He'd never seen anything like that around there before. He tried to see if there was someone inside, but the windows were tinted.
He sat back and kept his eyes fixed on the van.
He sat for a long time just watching, but he never saw anything. He never even saw anything move inside.
He just assumed that there was no one inside. He looked away from the van again and saw Zeke coming down that very same street, Lacy on his arm.
They were talking and laughing, as if they'd never known each other before then. It nearly made him sick.
Don't think like that, Aidan, He told himself, You should be happy for them… Still, it was strange not to see them arguing about everything and anything they could think about.
They walked right past the van, and still there was no movement.
As they started to cross the street, Aidan stood up to greet them. Zeke said something to Lacy, and she smacked him. Aidan smiled; finally, something he was comfortable with. For a split second, it was almost as if nothing had changed. That Lacy was still there, and they were still the closets group of friends in all of Ontario. He never realized it before, but he really loved their friendship and he missed the way it used to be.
"Aidan!" Lacy cried when she saw him. Aidan smiled and nodded at her. It was how he always greeted her, and he didn't even think about doing anything different. But she did, apparently.
"I've missed you so much!" Lacy cried, flinging her arms around him.
Aidan just stood there and blinked at her, a little shocked at her outburst.
"Hey…what about me?" Zeke pouted.
"Shut up, Zeke!" Lacy cried, hitting him again.
Aidan smirked at them. In his minds eye, everything was back to the way it should be. But that fantasy was soon smashed to a thousand pieces when Zeke took Lacy and kissed her.
"Hey uh…Aidan…" Zeke started, "Lacy and I are going to go upstairs, okay? We'll see you later."
"Huh…?" Aidan hadn't realized that Zeke as talking to him for a moment. "Oh, yeah, sure…" He muttered.
"Thanks man!" Zeke grinned and slapped him in the back before he and Lacy ran off. And just like that, he was alone again.
Edgar watched the scene unfolding before him with interest. There was boy sitting on the curb, all by himself. He looked about the right height for his girl, and was certainly just as attractive as she was. He studied the boy's long, sandy coloured hair, and deep-set, mysterious eyes. She might enjoy him… Edgar thought hopefully. But he had to be sure that he would enjoy her as well. This had to work from all angles or it wouldn't work at all.
He saw his friends come, and they greeted him warmly enough. For a moment Edgar's heart sank. Could it be that this boy was not lonely at all? What if he didn't need him? But then they left him, and the poor boy was left alone again, clearly distressed. His friends had forgotten about him in favour of each other. He could almost feel the boy's pain. The boy sank down to the curb again and dropped his face into his hands. The boy was definitely one to keep an eye on, but this time he had to be sure.
He decided to watch the boy a bit more before he made his decision.
Aidan crawled into bed that night completely miserable. Zeke hadn't even returned for dinner that night, and he still wasn't back. He'd been seeing less and less of his friends even since Lacy left. He wondered if it would be any different if she'd stayed. Maybe he was just destined to be alone.
He pulled his blankets up to his chin and sunk down into the bed. He couldn't sleep, so he entertained himself by counting the ceiling tiles. Too bad he already knew that there were 218 of them. Grumbling to himself, Aidan slipped out of bed and walked to the window.
Across the field, he clearly saw two figures sitting under the willow tree. He contemplated going to them, only until he saw that they didn't need his company.
He looked the other way.
The van was still there, a haunting white spot against the darkness enveloping it. It seemed to be watching him, like a ghost. Aidan shuddered unwillingly and rubbed his arms. What was with him lately? He shook his head and went back to bed.
Edgar had seen his boy come to the window, look at his friends, and see how they had left him. His heart bled for the young boy. He knew it all too well…
Edgar was eight years old, a young, awkward boy with fat limbs and oily hair. He had narrow, buggy eyes, enlarged behind impossibly thick glasses. He was always sweating, especially during the merciless Alabama summers.
He sat at the kitchen table, swinging his legs merrily while humming a popular tune.
"Quit that noise!" His mother screamed from the living room. Edgar stopped immediately. He slid off the chair and waddled gracelessly into the next room.
His mother lay slumped on the floor, her arm draped over the couch. She was covered in her own vomit, a used needle and scattered beer bottles lying at her feet.
Yellow light soaked in through the smoke-drenched, rotting blinds, and the room stank of cigarettes and excrement.
"Mama…?" Edgar asked timidly. His mother slowly raised her head and looked at him through drooped eyelids. "Shouldn't you be at school?"
"It's Saturday, Mama."
"Fuck," She cursed callously, "I missed work again." She dropped her head on her arm again and groaned. "Why do you look so happy?" She drawled.
"I made a new friend yesterday. Can I go over to his house to play?"
To his surprise, she started to chuckle. "You? A friend?" She threw her head back and laughed.
Edgar was dumbfounded. "Y-Yes…"
"You ain't got no friends."
"Yes I do Mama! He's really nice and…"
"Listen to me, kid," She said, rising clumsily to her feet. "There's no such thing as friends in this world. The only reason people are nice to ya is because they either wanna fuck ya, or cheat ya."
Edgar felt his lip begin to tremble. "But what about love, Mama?"
"Love? What the fuck is that?"
"Didn't you love daddy?"
She laughed again, "Don't make me laugh. Honey, I don't even know who he is!" She dropped to the floor and shook with mirth, apparently finding hilarity in the thought.
"I love you Mama…"
"Get outta here…" She said between giggles, waving her spent cigarette at him.
Edgar frowned but obeyed, and went to go see his new friend.
His mother was in the same position when he returned. Edgar thought she was high, but when he looked closer he saw that her skin was pale with a blue tint to it. Her eyes were dilated and unnaturally wide. He tentatively stepped up to her and pressed two shaky fingers to her throat. There was no pulse.
An alien kind of excitement pulsated through his body. His Mama was gone. Was he finally free of her abuse? Was this his release? He suddenly realized that his entire life, he wanted her to be dead.
But wait…she moved, and groaned. She was still alive! "No…" He shook his head, angry. "You can't be alive!"
"What are you talkin' 'bout?" She slurred.
"You're supposed to be dead! You OD'd!"
She groaned and passed out again. Edgar wouldn't stand for it. He ran into the kitchen and grabbed a huge knife from the drawer. She was still out when he returned, thankfully.
"People can love, Mama…" He told her. He couldn't let her corrupt him any more. He knew there had to be good out there somewhere. He raised the knife high above his head and brought it down her with all the might his eight-year-old arms could handle.
He stabbed her again and again until he was tired, and the blood had soaked him from his shoulders down.
When he was done, he grabbed her hair and rolled her head back, positioning the knife over her throat.
His mother made a gurgling sound, and blood squirted him in the face as he hacked through her throat. He didn't care; he just brushed it out of his eyes and continued until the head was removed.
Finally, he stood up and looked at her, decapitated, ugly. Her hideous head was snarling at him, her eyes still open, glaring at him. Edgar shuddered under her reproachful stare. "Stop it!" He screamed, kicking the head away from him.
He ran from the room and threw himself on his bed and sobbed. He sat in there for three days.
When he finally found the courage to come out, he took a long look at his mother's rotting body. The stench of death invaded his nostrils and he nearly gagged. And her head, it still stared at him. Edgar felt the rage boil within him. He grabbed her head and brought it downstairs and pushed it out the window under the porch. The body took a lot more effort, but eventually he managed.
He spent all day digging a hole in the dirt large enough to stuff her in there. Finally, he buried her and crawled back into the basement.
He spent the night there, and the next day he hitchhiked his way up to Canada.
Edgar shuddered and opened his eyes slowly. The sun shone through the tinted windows of his van, and he blinked a few times to get the sleep out of his eyes. It took a few minutes for his mind to process that it was morning.
Smiling, Edgar peered out the window and praised his luck when he saw that his boy was just coming out of the group home. He was alone, his hands shoved into his pockets and his head hung low. It looked like his friends had ditched him again.
Edgar waited until he was a good ways down the street before he started up the engine and went the long way around the block to cut him off. He'd made his decision; he wasn't going to find anyone better.
Aidan needed some fresh air. Zeke had actually gotten up early today, not that Aidan benefited from that in any way. He knew Zeke didn't realize he was blowing off his best friend; he was just excited about being with Lacy. He convinced himself that he didn't mind and went for a walk.
When he was halfway down the street, he happened to look back and saw that the white van that had been haunting him was gone.
"Weird…" He muttered. He turned back and started walking again, but had hardly gone three steps when a car screeched to a halt next to him. Aidan looked up and saw that it was the white van.
He was frozen in shock for a moment, and took an involuntarily step backwards.
As he ran through the possibilities in his head, someone grabbed him from behind and held a cloth over his nose and mouth. He was overcome by a sour, acid smell; but when he began to feel dizzy he knew: chloroform.
