Intercepts

by T.J. Payne

They make this happen. They open my eyes to burn them with light. They open my ears to stab them with sound. They open my nerves to set them on fire. I do not know who they are.

but because duct tape and twine were cheaper and easier than dealing with the crippling bureaucracy.

“I feel nothing… They did this to me… He did this to me…” Carson looked up, startled. “What?” “He loves you, Kate… You are his weakness…”

“I know you know him. His name is Joe. Joe Gerhard,” she said, her eyes still staring at the wall as though there was someone else in the room she was talking to.

That was the power of parenthood; the protective instincts overrode everything else.

They all promised the then seven-year-old Riley that her childhood friends would be her friends forever. What a load of bullshit. There was no one big, climactic moment that symbolized the end of the friendships. No fight, no jealousy, no nothing. Just a slow-drying cement around Riley’s ankles that prevented her from putting forth the effort to bridge the growing gaps. She stopped inviting those old friends over, and no one seemed to mind.

It was the same strategy as being a good parent. Be warm, but firm. Set sensible rules then communicate and enforce them clearly.

Children or not, people were going to be people. They’d be lazy if you let them. They’d be catty if you allowed it. And they’d blame you if they could.

He knew that when he crossed his legs for too long, his foot would “fall asleep.” It was a normal thing. The twisted nerves just couldn’t send signals to the brain. While the nerves stayed disconnected, they kept transmitting messages. When they finally reconnected, the flood of signals would burst forward and overwhelm the brain, causing the painful, tingling sensation of a sleeping foot.

Joe reached out and grasped her hand. It felt cold to the touch, as if she had no more blood flowing through her. He knew that some religions view blood as the river of the soul. He never believed that nonsense. And yet, feeling her cold hand made him worried that perhaps her soul, whatever that was, had been locked away deep inside her. Was there anything left of his daughter?

They didn’t just kill him. They wanted to hurt him. It was a fury and viciousness that didn’t exist in nature. That is what we have created, Hannah thought. Something outside the bounds of nature.

“Physical pain is fleeting. The mind closes it off, as best it can. But some pain runs deeper. Some pain lingers. It sticks to you in the darkness, and the mind cannot push it away. Pain such as the pain of watching your family suffer. And the pain of knowing they suffered because of you. That pain will never leave,” the voices said in unison. “Consider it not a punishment, but a gift. The pain will be your foundation as you swim in the black. It will be your light. Use it to find your way, Joe Gerhard.”