Basil Page #6

• Short story
• Horror

								


“Me too. Let’s go.”

Soaked in blood and vomit, the boy and I walked through the grass, following that light. Warm flesh against mine was something that proved I was alive, proved that I had something good to live for in this world. In my periphery I could see a young Loretta running through the grass in sunlight that wasn't there, laughing, with grass stained toes, sprayed with water from a hose I used to taunt her with. A smile crept on my face, and she ran gleefully behind me, out of sight.

Sometimes, I can still see her cooking, picking basil, planting seeds, playing in the snow and dirt, or peeking out from behind a wooden pillar in the big house we used to play hide and seek in. I can hear her in my head, although the voice I hear must be distorted at least to some degree. I’ve almost forgotten what she sounds like, and forgotten what her hand felt like wrapped around mine. But I still have faith. There are a million things to have faith in in this world, and I still look to Lyle when I feel like crumbling into nothing. Most of all, I think I have faith in life. I hope that somewhere bright and kind, my family awaits me and Lucas with warm, soft arms outstretched. I think love is eternal, even if memory is not. I will always love her. I will always love him, and all of his followers, my family. I have faith I will see them again, somewhere bigger, and brighter than here. For now, I just live the best I can.
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