Catharsis

“…cael…? Mr. Zarkoff? Are you awake?”

My eyes groggily slid open, gritty and stinging. The plaster apartment ceiling above me greeted me as I stared at it. My head was killing me, it was daytime, and I was lying on my back on something soft, with a thick comforter over me. But I wasn’t in my bed at home.

Where am I?

I groaned in discomfort and glanced wearily over at a scrawny young man, scruffy-looking, with soulful, dark eyes and sandy-toned hair. His youthful face was furrowed with worry, and he couldn’t have been older than 25. Vaguely, recognition began to tug at the fringes of my mind. I know him. He lives in the apartment next door, doesn’t he…?

Andrew. Andrew Slaktoski, that’s his name… Pre-Psych student at Grand Valley State... right? This is his apartment, has to be…

“Are you okay, Mr. Zarkoff?” He asked in his soft voice, watching as I began to wearily awaken. “Don’t overexert yourself…”

“M’fine,” I mumbled, slowly coming to. “What were you doing up so late…? Why am I in your house…?”

“I was getting some last-minute semester stuff together and I heard screaming from next door, like you were being attacked. Then I heard yelling and glass shattering, so I locked my door. Thought there was a burglar in the complex… It all went quiet after a bit, so I decided to see if you were okay. I knocked, but nobody answered. So I peeked through the peephole, and saw this tall guy in your house, didn’t catch his face, though. He pushed you and I watched you stumble and fall, and then you just… You vanished, Mr. Zarkoff. You were just gone. It spooked me to the point I went downstairs to tell security there was an intruder in the complex and he was attacking you, thank God he didn’t notice me.”

My heart instantly began to pound at the thought of the Man, how real he was… how real they all were… That I’d just vanished in front of this young man’s eyes, somehow ending up outside… My gut screamed in alarm, but I said nothing, continuing to listen.

“So, I went into the lobby downstairs, but then I looked outside and saw you lying in a snow bank across the street, in your pajamas. I don’t know how you got out there, but you looked… you looked terrified. Terrified beyond belief, like you’d seen a ghost or a demon or something. You were coughing really hard, and then you collapsed. I thought that guy hurt you or something, so I ran outside and started pulling you inside, brought you up here. Had Doctor Smith from the floor above come in, she checked you out, said you were fine. I dunno what would have happened if I hadn’t found you…”

My eyes slammed shut as my head swam with the fearful memories and I desperately focused on breathing. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. Don’t think about it, Michael. Don’t worry him. Don’t worry him. Don’t…

“Please,” I mumbled, voice shaking. “Andrew… did I have anything on me at the time, any medication bottles?”

“You didn't, no. But we got someone to open your apartment door last night, and I do have a bottle of medicine over on the table, but I didn’t look at it. Is it blood pressure medicine or something?”

“N-no… no, it’s… should be an orange bottle of little blue pills, label says Xanax…”

A slow look of recognition came over the scholar, and he nodded in understanding.

“I… didn’t realize you had – ”

“Just… don’t,” I interrupted, hands shaking. “Please, Andrew, I need one of those pills, I didn’t take any last night and I’m starting to panic…”

Urgency settled over the young man, and he was nearly a blur as he whipped into the kitchen and the faucet turned on. Vaguely, I heard the pill bottle rattling in the other room through my heavy breathing…

Inhale, Michael. Exhale. He saved your life. The Man saved your life. Andrew saved your life. The demons aren’t here. They’re not here. Inhale. Exhale…

A glass of water and the pill bottle found themselves in front of me, and I snatched both from Andrew. With shaky hands, I measured out the dose and slammed the pills into my mouth, drinking them and the water down in copious gulps.

“I’ll be… okay in a bit… I just… need to calm down…”

My hands found their way to my head, clinging, and I curled up against the back of the couch. Don’t think about it. Don’t bother Andrew with your problems. Don’t be a nuisance…

I felt Andrew settle on the couch next to me, felt his hand settle gently on my shoulder. I barely noticed.

“Mr. Zarkoff, It’ll be alright. You’ll be alright. Breathe…”

“That’s. Not. Helping.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“T-talk to me,” I stammered, staring at the floor and trembling. “Please. Get my mind off last night. Off Andrea.”

I felt the young man’s demeanor soften from cotton to silk.

“We’ve… heard about that,” Andrew said, clearly picking his words carefully. “Quite a few of the neighbors have. I’m so sorry to hear about her condition, Mr. Zarkoff. Are you going to be alright?”

My hands shook, and my face turned to a grim smile.

“… Mr. Zarkoff?”

“No,” I whispered, tears already welling in my red eyes. “No, no I’m not, and I haven’t for two weeks. I got a call last night, before I panicked. She’s going to… She’s…”

The floodgates opened, unable to contain my fear and sorrow anymore. Unable to hold the pain I felt. In front of someone I barely spoke with, let alone knew, they opened, and all the horror and anguish I felt rushed out of me like a bursting dam. My body shook with sobs, every nerve in my body felt exposed.

“She’s going to be gone, Andrew,” I whimpered, after what seemed like an eternity of sorrow. “She’s really going to be gone… And I couldn’t have helped her. I couldn’t save her. Not this time.”

“I… I’ve never been in this situation myself, Mr. Zarkoff, so I don’t know if I can relate that much,” the student admitted, clasping his hands between his knees. “But you have my sympathy. If there’s anything I can do to, I dunno, help you through this… I know I’m just a student, but grief and anxiety counseling is what I wanna specialize in, so if there’s anything I can do, I’d love the opportunity to listen and learn…”

“You’ve done enough already,” I murmured, sniffling and brushing the tears from my eyes. The little pill was slowly beginning to work its chemical spell on my neurons, quelling the unrest in my mind. “You’ve done more than enough… thank you for listening...”

“Any time you need someone,” he responded. “I think we all need a little help sometimes. Especially in a situation like this. By the way, I think your phone’s ringing. Your phone’s black, right? With a tech-themed screen saver?”

“Yeah, that’s my phone,” I responded, glancing into the other room. “I forgot I put it on vibrate.”

“Want me to get it?”

“No, I will, but thank you.”

I stood slowly, walking over to the table. I was emotionally exhausted – exhausted from last night’s nightmare, exhausted from crying, exhausted from fear and from not sleeping well for two weeks straight. All I wanted was for one thing to go right in my life. To feel better. To have just one bit of good news in my life for once…

The phone slowly found its way into my hand, and my fingers brushed against the screen as I answered it.

“Hello?”

“Mr. Zarkoff, good morning.” The oncologist’s voice somehow sounded less weary than before. Not exactly cheerful, but at least more open. “There’s some good news. Your wife’s feeling a little better after the surgery. She’s very tired, but awake and was hoping to see you. I’m… not sure how much longer she’ll have left, but… it’s like she’s staying alive for you. Just to see you. She’s one hell of a trooper.”

It was almost as if a heavy, but gentle weight squeezed my heart, both relieved and sorrowful at the same time. That’s my Andrea. That’s the woman I fell in love with, strong, determined to live even if it was impossible at this point. Hell-bent on making sure I was alright first before she left me.

“Thank you, Doctor, I’ll… I’ll be over as soon as I can. I’m driving over right now.”

The phone fell silent as I hung up, and I looked to Andrew again, still sitting where he was on the couch.

“You wouldn’t happen to know if my apartment’s still unlocked, would you?”

The rest of the morning after that was a blur, from the walk over to my apartment to getting dressed to the drive to the hospital. I easily could’ve walked, yeah, but if I had… if I had, it might have been too late by then. Besides, it was snowing heavily, and below freezing outside. Nobody could ever say Michigan didn’t have white Christmases.

The hospital was suspiciously quiet as I entered and proceeded to check in, wandering slowly into Andrea’s room. The window drapes were pulled aside, showing the snowflakes drifting softly over the grey sky and the Grand River beyond. Three ravens perched on a power line just outside, looking between themselves and the building. And inside the room, a small leak dripped somewhere, paralleling the gently beeping heart monitor. The heart monitor hooked to a frail, sickly shell of a woman, the woman I loved, the woman once so vibrant. Andrea.

“Michael…” She murmured weakly as I entered, a shadow of a smile crossing her features as she did so. Hope. There was hope in those dark eyes as she tiredly watched me enter… Me. She’d needed me. She’d been waiting for me so patiently, I could tell, waiting to see me just one more time. One more time…

“Andrea, hi, honey,” I murmured, walking in and casting my coat onto the visitor’s chair.

That’s when I heard another voice murmuring, very lowly, softly… familiar. I looked up towards the corner at the masked figure, his priestly robes swirling around his feet and his hands clasped in prayer as he murmured…

The demon in the church. The Priest…

“You,” I whispered in horrified recognition, my heart nearly skipping a beat at seeing the demon so close to the woman I loved…

The Priest glanced only briefly towards me, barely looking up as he continued his inaudible prayer. And Andrea didn’t even notice. And still the ceiling kept dripping from the snow melt, still I heard it… Where was it coming from?

“Michael…” She murmured as I approached her bedside. “Do you… hear that? The dripping…”

I looked up at the ceiling and around the room, finally finding the source of the leak. A tiny water spot, dripping in the bathroom and into the sink from above. Odd, shouldn’t they have fixed that?

Unless it’s not water, a little nervous voice in my mind stirred, setting my nerves jangling slightly. Unless it’s a demon, like all the rest.

Nonsense. Absolute nonsense. How can water be a demon?

“Yes, Andrea, I do hear it,” I finally responded. “It’s coming from the bathroom, love. Probably just from snow melting on the roof.”

“Well it better stop,” she responded weakly, the smile widening a bit into a smirk on her thin, dry lips, “Or I’ll… drown before the… cancer gets me…”

I laughed weakly, shoving my alarm and horror at the demons in the room aside, and took her thin hand in mine. There’s my Andrea again, sassy as always, joking even about her own death. I only wish I could be that resolved about it.

“Andrea,” I murmured, ignoring the demons and clinging to her hand as if for dear life, “Listen, I’m sorry… God, I’m so sorry, I wish… I wish I could’ve…”

“Michael hon,” she replied, voice croaking. “Michael, don’t you dare... This isn’t your fault… you always did blame yourself… for everything… You always do that…”

My face fell as my eyes dropped in shame to the floor. She was right, and I knew it. I did. I really did. I’d been doing nothing but for two weeks…

Footsteps sounded on the tile floor, and the air began to thicken. Began to cloud. Became ill…

The Surgeon…

I looked back up to her.

“I feel like an idiot,” I responded. “I feel like I’ve been worrying over my own shit, like I ignored you…”

“You didn’t though,” she replied. “You visited every day.... You only worried because… you wanted me to be alright… I know you, Michael… I love you. And you’re not a selfish man…”

A small smile flickered at the edge of my lips, vaguely. Somewhere in the background, the dripping slowed and stopped.

“I’ll be alright, dear… I promise,” she continued, letting her thin hand fall from mine. “Michael, do me a favor… I’m thirsty… there’s cups in the bathroom, could I… get some water, please…?”

“Of course, Andrea,” I responded, already halfway to the bathroom. “You’ll wait here, right?”

The thin, weak smile came back as she watched me pass the plastic barrier separating her bed from the rest of the room.

“Of course I… will, Michael,” she replied. “I’ll always wait… for you…”

I smiled at her a final time, then slid into the tiny bathroom, picking up a Styrofoam cup from the nearby sink. She’ll be okay for a minute. If anything, I doubt the demons only I can see will do anything to her. How can something specifically tailored to me attack another person? It wouldn’t make sense. No, she’ll be fine. She won’t be suffering anymore once all this is over for us. She’ll be somewhere better. And really… that’s the best I can hope for now, isn’t it?

The water rushed into the cup, cool and clear, and I turned the sink off as I walked back into the main area again. But something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong. For one, the air had become heavier somehow, darker.

And for another, the heart monitor was flat lining, a steady tone ringing horribly through the otherwise silent room.

Oh God. Oh God, no. Not now. Not now, I wasn’t ready for it to happen now!

“Andrea?”

The cup fell from my hand as I ran back over to the curtain-obscured bed, heart sick with dread at the awful truth of what I was hearing. I whipped the plastic curtain aside, the heart monitor blaring in my ears as I stared numbly at the limp form in the bed. The Surgeon, his scrubs cleaner somehow now, stood over the body, stethoscope pressed against its chest, searching for a sign of life, any sign of life, anything at all. But there was nothing. Nobody there except for him. There was no Priest in the corner, praying. There were no ravens outside the window, looking from the building to themselves and back.

And there was no more Andrea.

My whole body went numb and time stopped. No tears slid down my face, no words escaped my mouth, not even a whisper. Gone. She’s… she’s really…

The Surgeon looked up at me, pulling his stethoscope and himself away from the human shell lying hooked to tubes and wiring.

“She’s gone,” he said, finally, voice holding just a vague sense of softness under all that oil and iron. “Go home, Michael. There’s nothing else I can do for her. Or for you. I’m sorry.”

The Surgeon brushed past me in slow motion. Another two sets of footsteps ran into the room, the footsteps of the oncologist and a nurse. As if in a blur, I watched as they tried, desperately, to restart her heart, to save her. But nothing. Nothing happened. She didn’t wake up.

She was never going to wake up.

I barely remember the oncologist’s apology, I barely even recall his face, blurred as it was through my tears. I don’t even remember how I came to be back in the park sitting on the bench, that’s how askew everything felt, how blurred and muddled and wrong it all was. How numb. Time didn’t make sense, reality wasn’t real. My memories didn’t even make sense, it was as if someone had started replaying them, over and over again…

The mental tape rewound, and the tears began again, racking my body with sobs. Not this soon. Please… Not this soon. Why did it have to be this soon? Why? Why?

“Michael…?”

My pulse lept like a jackrabbit at the child’s familiar voice, vaguely sad, vaguely hollow…

“No,” I replied, voice shaking as I looked up, staring at the tall, faceless demon and his child companion. “No! Go away! Both of you go away! Leave me alone!”

The Man’s arms crossed in annoyance as he stared at me, watching the tears stream down my face.

“That was very rude of you, Michael,” Mori pouted, crossing her own arms. “That’s the thanks he gets for saving you from the Whisperer? He thinks that’s very ungrateful of you.”

“I don’t even care anymore,” I replied, half-laughing in a sick, fearful amusement. “I don’t care! I can’t take this anymore, you won’t even tell me what you want, I…”

My laughter slowly turned back into sobbing, and I collapsed from the bench to my knees, unable to control myself anymore. The nightmare… this wasn’t going to end, was it? This was never going to end, not for me. The other demons might be gone for now, but this one… this one was always going to haunt me, always going to follow me, watching me… I was never going to be free of him. Never. And it would surely drive me to insanity.

“Please,” I croaked through my tears, staring at the slushy ground between my gloved fingers. “Please… it hurts, everything hurts and I don’t understand… I don’t know what you want me to say or do. Why won’t you leave me be? What do you want me to do?”

I shook, breath heaving in heavy sobs. Neither the girl nor the Man said a word for what seemed like forever.

Then, gently, a skeletal hand’s razor-thin fingers brushed against my face, frigid to the touch, the skin like parchment paper over wire. The dexterous tips slid from my cheek to my chin, tilting my head up to stare at the Man, his eyeless gaze softer somehow than before.

“Nothing happens without reason, Michael,” Mori responded as my eyes searched the Man’s blankness for emotions I knew I wouldn’t find there. “He knows you’re afraid and he says he can’t leave you alone. Because he is your fear, and you need him. He says he’s been with you since you were very, very small. He says he knew you before he even knew me. He must be very old then, I guess…”

My mind raced with sudden comprehension, anxiety writhing like tendrils in my gut.

“You sent them,” I murmured. “You sent them all… the demons…”

The Man’s head shook no, very slowly.

“No, Michael,” Mori responded, approaching and taking one of my hands in her own tiny hands, “You brought them to yourself. All he ever did was watch it happen.”

“Then what do I do?” I whispered, turning to her. “What do I do to make them go away? What do I do without… without…?”

“He thinks you know that answer already,” Mori said, letting my hand fall from hers. “So answer him. What are you going to do, Michael?”

“I…” I looked at the ground, the slush mushing between my fingers and the water seeping into my gloves. “I… don’t know,” I responded, looking back up at the Man. “I don’t know… but I think I need to make it to tomorrow before I worry about that.”

The Man’s head inclined in interest, and his hands folded behind his back, apparently considering my words. The little girl grinned toothily and genuinely, looking for once like a real child instead of a facsimile of one.

“He says you should go home now,” she said, playfully shuffling her feet in the slush. “Because he thinks you understand now.”

“I don’t though,” I admitted, standing. “What is there to even understand about the last two weeks, about… About any of this?”

The little girl laughed, and it was almost as if the Man were too as his slender frame shook slightly, chuckling soundlessly.

“You understand it, then!” The child responded, laughing and running off into the barren trees beyond. “You understand it enough!”

The Man’s gaze turned back to me once more, staring at me, through me, chilling me with its familiarity and precision…

I shuddered, and drew to my feet, backing away before finally breaking into a run back home. The girl was wrong. I didn’t understand. I didn’t understand the demons, I didn’t understand why Andrea had to die, and I was never, no matter how hard I tried, going to understand the Man. Not fully.

About halfway down the trail, I stopped, feeling the scrutinizing, anxiety-inducing gaze lift from me like a weight. I turned, expecting the Man to have disappeared, anticipating that I’d be alone.

I was not disappointed. He was gone, as I had thought he would be. Gone for now, vanished without so much as even a set of footprints in the snow to mark where he had stood.

No, out of all the demons, I was never going to understand the Man in particular, no matter how hard I tried to comprehend him.

But I think I might be catching on.