The Delusion

by Laura Gallier

  Lance replied: Coming.

  I didn’t hear from Jess, but fifteen minutes later, they both pulled up at my house.

  They sat across from me, and I made my case like a trial lawyer pleading with a jury. “I told you both that I’ve been seeing some very strange and freaky things lately. Neither of you believed me, but I understand. I’d have a hard time believing me too. Jess, yesterday you called me psychotic.” I acted like it didn’t infuriate me. “I want to show you guys something—proof that I’m not crazy.”

  I pulled up the picture of the Creeper note. “See that?”

  Jess took a look. “What is it?” She passed the phone to Lance.

  “It’s a note. But not just any note.” I wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans and exhaled. “Look, this is gonna sound like something out of a sci-fi movie, but it’s not. It’s real, and I need you to take me seriously this time. Okay?”

  They nodded, but I doubted their sincerity. I was about to make a fool of myself again. I had to try, though.

  “So there are these creepy, huge things that walk around our school—everywhere really, but there’s tons at our school. They latch onto people and try to brainwash them or something. I don’t know why I can see them and you can’t, but I saw three Creepers—that’s what I call them—grouped together today in the hallway, and one of them wrote this note, then tossed it to the floor.” I left out that it used its fingernail to etch the message on its palm. No way I was going there.

  “I chased the note down and took a picture of it, and I wanted to show you guys so you’d know I’m not making all this stuff up.” I cut my eyes to Jess. “I’m not psychotic.”

  Lance stared at the phone again, then passed it back to Jess. She zoomed in, then gave it back to him. This back-and-forth went on for a while, like a stupid game of hot potato.

  I forced myself to stay calm. “So?”

  Lance cleared his throat. “Owen—” He paused for an eternity. “I’m really, really worried about you. This isn’t funny. You need help, dude.”

  Jess nodded. “You do. This is scary.”

  “But what about the picture? That’s proof that this isn’t all in my mind. I wouldn’t lie about this.”

  “You want us to believe that some invisible creature-thing wrote this?” Jess shook her head. “That’s so crazy.”

  This was going nowhere. “Just forget it. Seriously. Don’t worry about it.” I stood and reached for my phone. “Thanks for stopping by. It’s all good.” Not really, but I wanted them and their metal appendages to leave.

  I walked them to the door, hoping they would drive off and forget everything I’d just said. Unfortunately, Lance wasn’t done. “Owen, promise me you’ll go talk to someone, a doctor or counselor or something.” I nodded, then shut the door and did the only thing I knew to do—flip on the TV and try to escape my distorted world for a while.

  I fully believed by now that what I was seeing was real, but I had my moments—like this one—when I second-guessed everything.

  Jess sent me a text: I wish I could help you but I don’t know what to think of your stories.

  I texted back: I really don’t either.

  My mother’s new boyfriend dropped her off, and she barricaded herself in her bedroom with a bottle of wine. She’d been avoiding me ever since I’d tried to tell her about the Creeper two nights ago.

  I did the best I could to finish some homework, but it was super hard to focus on anything other than the supernatural. I decided to type up a timeline of events, beginning with the day that I drank the water and developed a nonstop belly freeze. It was unbelievable how much had happened in just ten days.

  On Thursday morning, I planned to stay home—but then Daisy stood outside my mother’s bedroom door growling. I could handle seeing Creepers in public better than dealing with them in my house. I decided to go to school, and on the drive there, I analyzed how to play my cards right the next night with Ray Anne. I needed to get information from her without scaring her off.

  I wasn’t looking forward to Jess finding out that I was going out with someone—and she would find out. Ray Anne was on the drill team. Gossip among those girls spread around the school like mold on stale bread. It didn’t matter that Jess was on the fast track with Dan. She was going to freak.

  Odd—one minute I was worrying about endangered souls, and the next, about petty rumors.

  Walking the hallways was extra challenging today. There were more of the vicious words scribbled all over the place this week than last, marking up lockers, bathroom stalls, ceiling tiles—you name it. Some appeared to be fading, while others looked fresh.

  Finally, on my way to third period, I solved the mystery of the graffiti. I saw a Creeper raise its skin-and-bones arm and use its grimy finger to write the word hate above the entrance to the library.

  For reasons beyond me, words were obviously significant to Creepers.

  My moods were all over the place, but as I made my way to the cafeteria for lunch, I was boiling over with a sense of injustice. Everything about this was unfair. The way I saw it, humans were defenseless prey, sitting ducks with no camouflage or refuge.

  Which was worse? Witnessing evil at work or being ignorant of it? Both felt like a death sentence.

  I collapsed into a chair at my lunch table, a few seats down and across from Jess. Here came Dan, grinning, holding his new purchase up to his chest—one of those yellow “I survived Masonville High” shirts.

  He lowered into a chair next to Jess. She rolled her eyes the second she saw him. “That’s not funny, Dan.”

  She got up and started to walk away, but he grabbed her arm. “Sit down.”

  I thought for sure she was gonna deck him. Instead she swallowed hard, then sat. He didn’t let go of her.

  I’d had enough of this punk. I was already popping my knuckles when Dan clamped down harder on Jess’s arm, and she winced. That was it. I shot out of my seat. “Let her go.”

  Dan looked me up and down, then huffed. “Or what?”

  My fingers curled into tight fists. “Or I’ll make you.”

  There was a collective gasp around us. I guess Principal Harding noticed. She came charging over to our table. “What’s going on here?”

  Dan had escaped to another table and was chatting with friends like he’d done nothing wrong. The principal looked at me. “Owen?”

  Jess stared a hole through me, pleading with her eyes to let it go. I sat down. “Everything’s fine.”

  Harding scanned the table, then finally left.

  Jess dug through her purse and pulled out her inhaler, then took a hit.

  I walked over to her and leaned down, speaking into her ear. “You have no business covering for that lowlife. And please, don’t ask me to keep quiet like that ever again. You deserve way better, Jess.” She took a second hit from her inhaler. “You all right?”

  She nodded, her eyes pooling.

  I rubbed a gentle hand over her arm where he’d grabbed ahold of her. There was no Creeper attached to Dan, provoking him. No excuse for what he’d just done.

  As I went back to my seat, I seriously considered walking over and breaking Dan’s nose, ruining his GQ face. But right then, Meagan approached Jess, dressed in her cheer uniform. A Creeper followed behind Meagan like an oppressive shadow. It motioned toward another Creeper.

  I clenched my jaws. Two at once?

  Not on your life.

  I had no action plan, just charged over to Meagan. The accomplice’s name stood out, a wound stretched across its forehead:

  demise

  I must have said it out loud. The snarly thing contorted its head and peered down at me for a heart-stopping moment, then went to work with its putrid partner. They shrank to the floor and shoved their wrists into two open cuffs. The sound of the cuffs snapping shut was like the slamming of massive metal doors.

  I couldn’t separate the visible from the invisible. “Stop it! Leave her alone!” A hush fell over the whole cafeteria, but
I didn’t stop. “You have no right to do this! Stop it!”

  Meagan’s eyelids went wide, and her cheeks flashed red. Jess stood up. “Owen, what are you doing?”

  I heard Dan laughing, but it didn’t matter. I grabbed a soda can off the lunch table and hurled it at the beasts. Sprite flew everywhere, but the can passed right through the Creepers. Meagan probably thought I was aiming for her—she started crying.

  Words flew out of my mouth machine-gun style, aimed at thin air as far as everyone else was concerned.

  The dark ritual continued as the Creepers moved in perfect sync. They thumbed through the cords drooping from Meagan’s head and made their strategic selections.

  But suddenly, the Creepers looked up, tilting their heads back, fear all over their mutilated faces. What could they possibly be afraid of?

  I looked around . . .

  And found my answer.

  FOURTEEN

  HE WAS ENORMOUS, at least five feet taller than the Creepers, and a blinding, crystal-white radiance penetrated the space around him. I was too astounded to cover my eyes, overwhelmed by a rush of euphoria—an extraordinary sensation of peace I never knew existed.

  Although I could only stand to look at him for seconds at a time, I could see that his massive body was sculpted to perfection. He wore the most bad-looking platinum-silver armor I’d ever seen.

  I don’t know when I hit the ground, but at some point, it registered that I was on my stomach, straining to look up and steal glances at him.

  And wow, the fragrance. He gave off a magnificent scent that overpowered the Creepers’ putrid stench—like high-end men’s cologne but better than anything I’d ever smelled. His movements were fluid and effortless, a supernatural being prepared for the fiercest of battles.

  The human language cannot describe his flawless complexion or the passion and fury contained in his eyes. He didn’t look much older than me, but there was nothing boyish about him. A thin gold crown encircled his glorious head, beaming over his wavy brown hair. I didn’t need to be told that it signified authority far greater than any earthly power.

  I felt a tight grip on my arm, but I paid no attention. I was witnessing another dimension, beholding a life-form that exceeded the most epic of fairy-tale heroes.

  I was lifted upright, but my knees buckled, and I dropped to the floor again as another colossal being of equal stature and strength appeared on the opposite side of Meagan—this one dark skinned, with the most massive biceps.

  The Creepers went ballistic, jerking and convulsing in their rush to pull away from Meagan’s cords and cuffs.

  I had the bizarre feeling that I was standing outside of time as the two immense allies closed in on the Creepers. I couldn’t be the only one who felt the earth shudder! They had no weapons in their hands—they didn’t need them.

  Finally unbound from Meagan, the Creepers planted their faces to the floor and writhed but didn’t hiss a sound. The mere presence of these glowing beings seemed to be unleashing suffering on the Creepers. At last, the tormentors were tormented.

  The monsters slithered on their stomachs, inching away from the light until they were far enough to crawl, then they scrambled to their feet and ran.

  I focused on the avengers, desperate to memorize every detail of their appearance. But I was interrupted by the sensation of pain in both arms. I was hoisted up, then felt my body spin, forcing me to face the opposite direction. Two male teachers had ahold of me. My feet dragged on the floor all the way to the nurse’s office, then I tumbled onto the stiff plastic bed.

  The nurse scrambled to take my temperature and blood pressure, then warned Principal Harding that my body was cold and my blood pressure soaring. That’s what happens when you carry a blizzard in your belly and stand an arm’s length away from supernatural rivals.

  It was like a nightmare, only with a glorious finish.

  I heard Lance ask the nurse if I was all right. I guess my secret was out. Everyone had seen me explode.

  I wanted so bad to get up and find Meagan. I wanted her to know that she was at the center of an epic fight, the treasured prize of two fierce opposing forces. And I wanted to tell her that the good side won today. They won without ever having to raise a fist.

  Principal Harding knelt down and spoke close to my face. Too close. “Owen, I just got off the phone with your mother. She’s on her way.”

  I was relieved when she backed off, but then a school counselor got right back in my face. “Owen, how are you feeling?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Are you aware of what just happened?”

  I wanted to ask her the same thing.

  “What were you doing, Owen?”

  This was no time to crack and get thrown into a treatment center. I had to see those warriors again—appeal to them for help. “I let the stress get to me, that’s all. I haven’t been sleeping lately. I’ve been worried about college and my friends, with all this suicide stuff. I just lost it for a minute. I’ll be okay.”

  She looked at me with big, adoring eyes. “Bless your heart. Why don’t I issue you a homework pass so you can rest tonight, then come see me first thing in the morning?”

  Whew. Dodged that bullet. I wasn’t sure what to expect from my mother, though. As far as she was concerned, this was the second episode this week, and she was already leery of me. Who knows? She might show up with a straitjacket.

  I stared at the ceiling tiles, trying to process what I’d just witnessed. It was larger than life. It was like watching life versus death.

  I wiped my eyes. Why were they pooling? It wasn’t because I’d completely humiliated myself, and it wasn’t because I was afraid of what my mother would say. I wasn’t sad, actually.

  Clarity came over me like a soft breeze, but I tried to squelch it because it felt like something supernatural. No, it was more like something . . . spiritual. That was unfamiliar territory for me. But before I could stop the thought, it was echoing across my mind.

  I’ve always believed we’re alone, each of us left to fight life’s trials on our own. But now I know better. Something—someone—cares.

  That realization choked me up.

  And it freaked me out.

  Did God actually exist?

  I dismissed the idea. I had to stick with what I could see and discount what I couldn’t. Yes, I was aware of the irony. But the reality was, I hadn’t seen God. I’d seen good forces triumph over evil today. That’s it.

  And where did the champions go? Why didn’t they help more? Why not annihilate the Creepers entirely?

  I closed my eyes and considered a new life equation: the war between good and evil is real, but evil doesn’t stand a chance—so long as the good guys show up.

  My mother spent a while in the counselor’s office before I was released. I promised I was feeling good enough to drive my motorcycle home, and she didn’t push back. I got the idea she’d rather not be confined in a tight space with me.

  I went straight to my room, got my laptop out, and added to my timeline. What to call the avengers? I settled on Watchmen.

  My phone lit up with texts. I figured it would help downplay the situation to reply and assure people I was fine.

  If only that were true.

  Ray Anne had texted. She must have been pretty horrified to hear that the guy she’d made plans with for tomorrow had completely flipped out in front of half the school. She asked if I was okay, and I replied with an apology and a promise: I’m sorry I acted like an idiot today. I hope you still want to hang out. I won’t cause a scene. I swear.

  She didn’t break our plans—a huge relief. I still held out hope that I’d discover something revolutionary.

  I just hoped I could keep my promise to not freak out and humiliate us both.

  FIFTEEN

  FRIDAY MORNING, I thought about skipping school, but I worried the Watchmen might show up again and I’d miss it. I really wanted to see them get physical with the Creepers. I had no doubt the Watc
hmen would put a major beat down on them.

  I tried going straight to first period, but the counseling police summoned me to the office. That same big-eyed counselor lady explained that they’d arranged for me to have a mentor. “Given yesterday’s cry for help, we believe you’ll benefit greatly from the program.”

  “Do I have to?” Like I wanted some shackled stranger trying to fix me.

  “We can’t force you to participate, but we believe that meeting with your mentor twice a week will be highly rewarding for you and him. You’ve been assigned to one of Masonville’s finest.”

  What I’d been assigned to was the official at-risk student list. Not my proudest moment.

  In walked a tall man in a tailored suit. Polished shoes. Tarnished shackle.

  “Owen, this is Dr. Bradford—a physician.” The counselor turned to go, but not without repeating, “One of Masonville’s finest.”

  Her cheesy attempt at flirting made things even more awkward. Dr. Bradford shook my hand, firm and confident. His face was oddly familiar.

  We lowered into chairs across from each other, and I mulled it over. Bradford. A doctor . . .

  Then it clicked, so much irony I practically choked on it.

  “You’re . . . Dan Bradford’s father?”

  “Guilty as charged.” He smiled—same dimples as Dan.

  Even before our minute of small talk, I was ready to end this. But then . . .

  “Owen, I know who you are. I was very close to your grandparents.”

  Wow. For the first time in my life, someone might actually tell me something about my relatives.

  He leaned in toward me. “They were devastated when your mother ran away. I met them shortly after, as a teenager, and despite their grief, they graciously opened their home to me—at a trying time in my life. They treated me like I was their own son. Taught me countless invaluable principles about life. And spirituality.”