In Our Shadows

1

Little Darkness

Kyra

Kyra strolled through the creaky front door of the weathered farmhouse, breaking the silence in the air. With one big stretch of her back, she attempted to relieve the tension in her strained muscles. Although she rarely gets a good night’s sleep anymore and worked several long shifts the past week, Kyra felt surprisingly good.

Although her body protested every movement once in a while, she worked through it. Her impossible standards held her to an intense lifestyle that was healthy for no living thing.

Noticing the silence in the house, Kyra looked about the empty living room. She had arrived before her ‘siblings,’ who had yet to get off the school bus—hanging up her jacket carefully. Kyra put her lanyard with her truck keys in the pocket like she always did. Kyra hoped to get something done today. Even though the keys didn’t quite fit, and her bright blue lanyard hung out. Kyra had no worries about theft, they locked the doors, and well, they lived in the middle of nowhere.

She took her things to her small bedroom in the house’s basement with a smile and a hummed tune. Placing her bag onto her small old bed, She went to her dresser and opened the bottom drawer to see her large metal snack box.

She was happily unlocking it and seeing all the snacks she had bought on Tuesday night. Hungrily, she grabbed some cookies and a can of soda from the tin. Locking it firmly back up, just in case someone decided to try to help themselves.

Waddling back over to the bed with her prize, she turned on the t.v and began to flip through the channels. It was another regular night in the summertime time Kyra had a strange feeling that it wouldn’t stay that way. Kyra ignored the feeling and went on with her alone time.

Aimlessly Kyra began flipping through the channels to find something vaguely interesting to watch. Her calendar by her door caught her eye as a large red circle took up a too familiar spot on today’s date. Kyra’s suspicious feeling was confirmed as she began to piece thoughts and memories together in her head.

Her birthday was less than a week away today, which meant that today marked her adoption’s twelfth year. Kyra couldn’t stop the tear that escaped her eyes—recalling what had happened in her life so far.

Kyra’s birth mother was Eleri, who barely had a face in what little memories she had until five. Kyra is mainly remembered for visits to her grandmother and the fantastic tales she used to tell. Kyra was born in Salem, Massachusetts, where those ugly witch trials back in the nineteenth century. When she got a bit older, they moved to Ohio town with her mother and grandmother.

Kenza used to tell her stories of her family line and others that lived around that time. She descended from one of the most powerful witches in the village. Her grandmother often referred to their ancestors as casters or healers, depending on the magic they were gifted with, as she hated the word witch and everything associated with it.

Eleri was the first to be born without access to magic in a long time. Eleri scoffed at her mother when Kyra was born, saying that Kyra would develop into a mighty caster. Kenza told Kyra that the birthmark of the moon’s eye was just underneath her hairline on the back of her head. It was the mark of only the most robust casters. It marked the ability to spirit walk. Only the most vigorous spirit walkers could walk in the real world, and Kenza hoped to nurture Kyra into being such a caster.

When Eleri refused and threatened to call the police for child endangerment. Her grandmother showed Eleri her ability to manipulate the elements, but Eleri quickly brushed them off as a sad magic trick from a crazy woman and had her admitted. After a year of visits and learning about herself from her grandmother, her mother stopped taking her. Eleri believed her mother was getting worse, and just interacting with Kyra would make Kyra go insane.

However, her powers quickly increased when Kyra turned four years old, just as her grandmother told Eleri. Quickly she began to see people her mother couldn’t wear fancy clothes and talked weirdly.

Kyra was just happy to have some friends, and she would talk and play with them. Her mother began to take her to therapy when she noticed these strange habits.

After a year of therapy, Kyra had enough, and she needed to convince her mother that she wasn’t insane, and her grandmother wasn’t either. Kyra talked to Johanna’s mom, who told her about a person she met long ago and told Kyra how to do a special trick. The woman said the trick was scary but could help her out.

The next time she went to her grandmother, she used the trick. Kyra never did the trick at home but followed the steps Johanna’s mom had said. Kyra called out to Johanna. Then her memories are blank. Kyra wasn’t sure what had happened, but she left the building and was covered in blood. Whatever happened at that hospital. Eleri blamed her, and Kyra quickly found herself in the adoption center and then an orphanage as Eleri became mentally unstable herself and no longer wanted to care for her.

Angelina and Jack adopted her not long after; thinking back, she realized it might have been more like a nanny than a sister. Angelina was heavily pregnant at the time. After Aspen was born, Kyra suddenly spent a lot of time holding and soothing him when he cried. Kyra couldn’t count the amount of time she was left alone with the tiny baby to play with and feed. Being that she was only five, she didn’t see the issue.

They took her to another small town in Ohio called Tysonville. She has called them Mom and Dad ever since, at least to their faces. She called them by their names everywhere else; her grandmother’s void kept her from really thinking and wanting this group of strangers to be her family.

Kyra blinked the tears away. She missed her grandmother, and she had looked her up in the papers and the internet but found nothing about her grandmother.

It was like she did not exist, another unimportant face in the massive population on Earth, but Kyra confronted herself for years with the thought that her grandmother would visit her in her sleep just like she promised when she was young.

Although it had been years and her grandmother was no longer young, not knowing if she was dead or alive, Kyra grieved the loss of time with her grandmother.

Kyra always pushed away from the intruding thought that maybe she was dead after all. The hair on her neck rose, and she got goosebumps. The idea of her being dead made her feel ill and weird. However, she knew that soon she would have to accept it if her grandmother died.

People with mental health conditions are not treated the best in any institution on this planet. Kyra kept her hopes up though, her grandmother was strong, and Kyra’s love was all she needed in life, so Kyra would love and believe in her anyway. Her hair rose higher on her neck, making Kyra suspicious of her feelings, was her window open?

A bang erupted from Kyra’s closet, causing her to jump. Quickly wiping an escaping tear away, she stared holes into her closet door. There was nothing but the strange sound that now reverberated in her ears. Her heart pounded so hard it left a soreness in her chest. In a sudden surge of bra, she stood, and she walked to her closet.

No other noises came from the closet, but she doubted her ears were playing tricks on her, her hair began to rise on the back of her neck, and a chill slid down her spine, causing her to shiver.

Quickly throwing open the closet door, she reached in and clicked on the light and saw nothing but a fallen box full of her medals from Track and Field in high school. Her high school years ended just a week ago, and looking at the awards, she felt a sense of loss. Track and Field made her truly happy. Even though she was considered athletic and lean, she struggled with feeling large and fat due to Jack’s nit-picking about women’s looks.

A glance around convinced her she was safe. Relief washed over her, and she knelt down and neatly put the awards back in the maroon box and slid then back the box back into its home. She looked at the shelf where she kept them, thinking she had just set them too close to the edge, and the closing of her door eventually made them fall.

Examining the shelf further, she saw that it was on a bit of a tilt and that it was probably a factor in why the medals had fallen. Clicking off the light with a laugh, Kyra shook her head at her silliness. She was wound too tightly, and it was starting to get the better of her.

Shaking of the incident, Kyra went back to her bed and cookies and began to nibble at one as the woman continued to talk through the opening of the cooking segment and took questions from the audience.

Once the woman began to start the cooking part of the cooking show. Kyra realized that she should probably write this down if she wished to attempt it herself. Quickly grabbing a pen and paper, she jots down the homestyle Italian pizza recipe. Kyra had seen pizza shops make the pizza before but not with these methods. They were pretty weird, but it was something that she was willing to try.

When the program ended, she flicked it over to a cartoon. She nibbled her cookie as she questioned why networks put shows like this on the air. The crash sounded again from the closet. With a jump, a frustrated sigh, Kyra marched over to the closet and threw open the door, clicking on the light, looking at the box of medals on the floors again. Kyra was just about ready to throw them in the garage outside. Another sound came from the closet this time. She froze at the sound. To her, it sounded like the shuffle of feet.

The thought jumped into her head that someone had to be in her closet; they had broken in. In a panic, she stepped back, with her hands up to fight and waited for someone to appear; after a few moments that seemed like years, nothing happened. She looked into the closet, peeking into all of the corners, and no one was in there.

Her thoughts began to swirl together into one conclusive thought. She had seen a ghost in a long time. Kyra wasn’t sure if it was because she learned how to ignore them or if it was for the sole reason that there was a lot less trauma and hate than in most cities. However, that didn’t rule out that something could be going on here.

Kyra entered her critical thinking mode and began to try and process all the information she had and how to act in the split second she had before this interaction could get ugly. Nothing happened after that moment, and Kyra could only hope that it wouldn’t happen again.

Taking a step forward, she looked around the closet and found no sign of a person or a spirit. The amount of thinking was necessary if something came of such a close ‘combat’ with a person or ghost, but Kyra would now leave it alone.

Kyra pulled her clothes from her bag to throw them in the wash. She was making a mental note to fix the shelf later on. A knock sounded at her bedroom door, making her jump for the third time since she had been home.

Kyra carefully stood up and pulled open the door to her bedroom. Angelina stood there. She must have just gotten home with Jack, seemingly because she looked tired. Kyra looked down at her thin face. She had always been pale, short and skinny.

Her once perfect porcelain face was now lined with wrinkles. Her bright auburn hair had begun to turn silver at the roots. Her green eyes used to look radiant and joyful but now looked dull and lifeless. Kyra watched as the lifelessness turned to anger in a split second.

Lily and Aspen destroyed the living room. I would appreciate it if you would help them tidy up, please Her expression was grave. Her clothes caked in food stains, and she smelled like warm beer and cigarette smoke. Her frame looked brittle and creaky as ever. Kyra nodded slowly, not wanting to anger her further.

Kyra walked out and closed the door behind but not before throwing another glance at her closet. Kyra followed slowly behind Angelina, who continued to her bedroom. Kyra made her way to the kitchen, realizing that she should probably make dinner since Angelina was too tired and couldn’t cook well, and her laziness led to a lack of flavour and overcooking. Kyra shuffled slowly down the hall; Princess and Teddy, the children’s kittens, trotted down the hallway behind her knowing they would get some food. Even though they weren’t her cats, she didn’t care much for them and their angry, spoiled attitude. If she didn’t feed them, they would starve because her ‘siblings’ were neglectful.

When she opened the door to the kitchen, they scrambled through and stood by their dishes, waiting to eat. Aspen was sitting on the floor beside Lily, cleaning up toys, picking up cereal and garbage as they hurled mean words at each other, blaming each other for getting in trouble. Lily was beside helping as she was in a complete fit of rage.

It’s all your damn fault, and Mom wouldn’t have noticed. You just had to say something, didn’t you, Idiot? Lily yelled at Aspen, who never made eye contact but did not refrain from returning her anger.

You threw cereal everywhere because that’s what they were doing on T.V.! They were being called terrible kids! You should have listened to me when I said it was dumb and just going to get us in trouble, Aspen nearly yelled back at her, and Kyra just rolled her eyes and kept to herself.

Aspen looked up at Kyra as she passed him, and Lily did. Their deep brown eyes were sad, and flickers of anger passed through them. Kyra walked back and forth across the room, picking up toys, as Lily and Aspen continued to pelt each other with cruel words.

Lily, you need to stop yelling at Aspen, or you’re grounded. Same for you, Aspen, Lily turned and faced Kyra looking like she would go off again, but she stopped and sat with a huff on the leather couch behind her. Lily never really fought with Kyra anymore; there was no point.

A few months ago, Lily attacked Kyra, and Kyra accidentally summoned a Vyxlier, a guardian formed from her own shadow. It had no expression in its form, only fire in its pale, glowing eyes. It ripped her off Kyra and held her high in the air as she kicked, screamed, and cried.

Kyra panicked and got rid of it as quickly as it appeared; she made Lily swear not to tell Angelina. Otherwise, Kyra would make it come back and steal all her toys and sweets. Lily cried and pleaded, but she agreed. Lily stared at Kyra now with hate in her eyes. Kyra could only imagine she remembered that moment too.

Aspen, could you do me a favour and pull out something for dinner. I don’t care what it is as long as it’s what you guys want to eat, Kyra asked gruffly. Aspen looked at her strangely as she cleaned and grabbed the vacuum.

But what about the mess?

I got this, just please. Kyra sighed, turning on the vacuum and starting on the crumb-ridden floor. Aspen stood slowly and shuffled over to the kitchen. Kyra finished picking up the toys and the cheerios. Gather what she could of the random array of dolls, plastic dishes and stuffed animals. Taking those armfuls of toys, she cautiously started walking into Lily’s room and slowly placing her toys in their designated areas. Last in her hands was Lily’s favourite bunny. Stepping back and looking across the shelves, the room seemed to shift in a second, and Kyra felt strange. Like a sense of vertigo washed over her.

The stuffed animals’ eyes around the room seemed to hold life behind them. The kind of eyes that were empty but could still see the sin that resided in one’s soul. Kyra felt something watching her, unmoving and silent. Using these toys as a medium of intimidation was not entirely out of the question. Kyra scratched her head. It was becoming insanely clear that something awful was unfolding. Maybe Angelina or Jack made a deal for power?

Kyra felt a shadow creep around her mind’s edge, a dark and cold presence that made her stomach hurt and her eyes water. That feeling of fear crept into her heart once again, but instead of panic, she felt terror.

The feeling grew, her stomach was in her throat, and she looked around the room. Something was wrong, wrong. Kyra stepped back towards the door, and their glassy eyes seemed to follow her. She continued slowly and steadily toward freedom from this cold grip in her mind and soul.

A medium-sized pink stuffed rabbit that Lily got for her birthday last year began to grin, its snout pulling into a weird, awkward human smile. It looked unnatural on its face, not only because it wasn’t real but also because of its malicious intent. Its eyes gleamed with power, mocking her. As if It knew something she didn’t. It filled her head with thoughts of harm other than harming her with fire and smoke. The idea of the house in flames and everyone trapped inside filled thoughts, and her standing outside with a gas can and a gun.

Kyra locked the vision away, finally backing into the doorway, and slammed the door shut. The darkness that seemed to plague her mind crept away to whatever corner of hell it seeped in from. Kyra felt her hand shaking as she reached for the knob. She slowly opened the door with a deep breath to see the cute stuffed animals once more. Whatever had caused them to go feral was gone now.

She slowly closed the door, not wanting to wake up what even was in those creepy fluffy animals. Kyra never thinks of any plush animal the same again. Walking back to the living room, Kyra found that it was devoid of the children and the kittens. Kyra poured the much too expensive dry food in the kitten’s bowls and heard them sprint down the hallway toward the sound.

Kyra made her way into the kitchen and looked into the sink to find ground beef. A few ideas popped into her mind, and she began to hunt around for ingredients for tacos. Looking through the drawers for a spatula, Kyra came across a container of lighter fluid which caused another stir in her heart. Kyra locked those feelings and thoughts up in a drawer that she would not ever open, at least not intentionally. Kyra made her way through the motions, and within twenty minutes, Kyra had finished making dinner. She plated up the kids and adults and set them on the table. Kyra called everyone to eat and made herself a couple piled up with all the ‘exotic’ extras that the adults hated so much.

Kyra walked into her room to smell her sage and lavender incense and felt much better. She sat down with her dinner and watched a movie by herself on her bed. The movie was one Kyra had seen before, but it was one of her favourites, finding herself laughing at the jokes and following along with the dialogue. However, she was never relaxed enough to keep herself from occasionally staring holes into the door of her closet, just waiting for something to happen again.

After the movie had ended, Kyra gathered her garbage and dishes and took them upstairs to be dealt with. On the way up the stairs, Jack marched swiftly past her.

Probably got banished to the spare room, she thought, walking on by him. Jack didn’t seem too happy, but Angelina often dismissed him because he did or said something to upset her. Kyra rolled her eyes once again at the thought of how dysfunctional this family indeed was. Yet, it almost seemed like they were living the American dream on the outside.

She arrived at the kitchen to the sounds of forks on plates and nothing else. Lily and Aspen ate quietly, which was odd for them. They were chowing down on some chocolate cake. Kyra wasn’t sure if it was bought or just made, but it honestly didn’t matter. Angelina, however, was not enjoying the cake. She was walking out the door. Kyra wasn’t sure where she would be heading, but it left a small voice in her head to whisper words of panic as the keys for the brand new car Angelina drove were still on the counter.

Kyra felt a small pit of lava boiling in her stomach as she looked toward her coat, and that bright blue lanyard was no longer dangling out of the too-small coat pocket. In a bling panic, Kyra threw on her shoes and ran into the evening, bathed in the sun’s golden light. It wasn’t bright, just a soft glow covering the yard. It was the kind of sunset one would stop to admire if they were in a blind panic or rage.

Kyra would have watched the sun finish setting, but the anger and fear in her made her ignore the wonder of the landscape around her. The sunsets quite quickly when lost in the moment. However, there was enough light to see Angelina walking rapidly toward her old turquoise truck with a blue lanyard in hand. The orange glow of the landscape made Angelina’s hair look like it was on fire as it glimmered in the faint light.

Kyra ran up behind her, her breath heavy in her chest, the runner’s high filling her brain, and her legs began to ache as they slammed into the ground; she ran as fast as she could to Angelina. What should have been seconds felt longer than every day of her life?

Mom?! What are you doing? Kyra huffed. The sound of that stupid word made her mouth feel like it was full of tar. She ran past Angelina and blocked her way to the truck. Angelina looked up at her with a scowl, then almost as if she knew someone was watching, replaced it with a polite smile.

I’m just borrowing your truck, sweetheart She smiled wider at Kyra and looked at her expectantly, one eyebrow raised. Someone who didn’t know her might mistake it for sweetness, but Kyra knew nothing sweet about that smile. It was an act, so no matter what Angelina felt, no one would ever see her as the bad guy. Kyra was a teenage brat throwing a fit if you were an onlooker, and Angelina would be the reasonable mother just trying to do what she could for her children.

Kyra knew from the slight furrow in Angelina’s brow and the tightness in her cheeks that she was outraged. This whole fiasco was brought on by whatever happened between Jack and Angelina and made worse by Kyra’s protests to keep the truck, but just because Kyra didn’t want to get in trouble didn’t mean that she wouldn’t stand up for