That’s when I saw the figure in the mirror. It was standing behind Jeffery, a good two heads taller than either of us, and while I was seeing just a fleeting glimpse of its profile in the mirror, it looked strange, as though it was dressed in ill-fitting clothing or had a body that was deformed. I opened my mouth to scream a warning as I finished turning my head toward Jeffery, but it died in my throat when I saw nothing behind him outside of the mirror. I cut my eyes back to the mirror in time to see the thing reach for Jeffery. In the half-second I glanced away from him, Jeffery was already being pulled back into the dark, his surprised and terrified yells echoing off the bare walls as they faded further and further away.

This isn’t about me being crazy, but it isn’t about me being a hero either. I was a scared little boy, and as much as I loved my brother, as much as I hated myself as I did it, I ran. I went up those steps two at a time, more worried about my legs getting grabbed from underneath the stairs than the weakening screams I was hearing from my best friend in the world. I didn’t stop running until I was half a mile away from the house, my ragged breaths mixing with slobbering tears as I tried to make it back home to tell my family what happened.

I saw the smoke two miles before I got back to the compound. There had been some kind of government raid that morning after we left. Supposedly someone had illegal weapons or something, but I never knew all the details, despite being questioned by authorities after it was all over. They only questioned me once, and I got the feeling it was more just to say they had been thorough than because they thought I knew anything important. To the contrary, they seemed happy to stick me into the state system and forget about me, to forget about the whole mess.

Because somehow, while the raid was just starting, my parents’ house caught on fire. I never heard any explanation other than “electrical shortage”, which seemed like bullshit, especially given the timing. Regardless, by the time I reached the edge of the compound, I was being waylaid by agents telling me I couldn’t go in and our parents were already dead of smoke inhalation.

I did a lot of hating in those first few months. Hating myself, hating the agents, hating our friends and neighbors for not somehow saving them. And not knowing the details of what actually happened only made it worse. It was as though my entire world was taken away all at once and I didn’t even know how or why.