Angel of Darkness Read Free

sleeping quarters.
    He had his hands thrust deep in the pockets of his jeans and his hair hung in greasy strands. His skin had become mired in a no-man’s land between uneven stubble and acne. Misery surrounded him in a cloud. It was a gloom that felt all too familiar to me: Michael was deep in the trough, he had descended as I had often descended, and was now chin high in crippling depression. Had my death done this to him?
    I’d have given anything to take on my son’s sorrow. But all I could do was walk by his side, unseen and unfelt. What had happened to change Michael so? Nine months ago, faced with the truth that I was no longer part of his life, I had stopped torturing myself by standing outside our old home, staring in at a world where I had been forgotten. I had forced myself to find other families to watch. I had made myself move on.
    Which meant I had not been there for him during whatever crisis had landed Michael here, among the lost souls of Holloway.
    Was he becoming another version of me?
    Michael ignored the nurses who watched him, assessing his behavior, trying to put a label on his troubles. He paused in the common-room doorway but gave no notice of the other young patients inside. They were gathered around a television set to watch a movie about teenage vampires. He did not notice, as I did, that the pale complexions and vacant eyes of his fellow patients were far more frightening than the stylish vampires of the movie. Michael was preoccupied and waiting for someone. His eyes kept focusing on the door at the far end of the hall before he looked quickly away, as if he were ashamed of his need for company.
    He was not waiting for his mother. When Connie came through the door a few moments later, Michael slumped in disappointment. He had been hoping for someone else.
    Connie exuded motherly optimism as she hugged him, but I could feel the cracks of fear spreading through her body like fissures. She was determined that Michael not sense the terror that vibrated in her like piano wire. I understood her fear. She had seen this all before. She had seen it in me. And she had learned that love alone was not enough. She knew that the darkness sometimes won.
    â€˜I brought you tee shirts,’ she said. ‘And some books, in case you feel like reading?’
    â€˜Why do I have to be here?’ Michael asked sullenly, taking the bag she offered but refusing to meet her eyes.
    â€˜It’s just for a few days. Just to give you a break.’
    â€˜I didn’t wreck the car on purpose,’ he protested too loudly. His voice attracted the attention of the other patients. They watched Michael and his mother warily. When it came to the war between parent and child, they knew where their loyalties lay.
    â€˜Sometimes we do things without realizing why,’ Connie explained in a whisper. ‘It’s just getting worse, Michael, it’s just getting worse.’ Her voice cracked and it shocked me. This was not the steel-nerved Connie I had known. Had I taken all of her strength? Left her mired in fear of the worst?
    â€˜This place is a hellhole,’ he said. ‘It’s not safe. Crazy people attack you all the time. The other kids told me. They have serial killers and shit locked up right next door.’
    Connie’s patience was being tested. ‘Michael, that’s just stupid teenage rumors and don’t you swear. You’re perfectly safe here. Cal told me and he ought to know.’
    â€˜But end-of-grade tests are coming up,’ Michael protested, trying another tack. ‘You’re guaranteeing that I’m going to fail.’
    â€˜It’ll be OK,’ she assured him, but he did not believe her. She was his mother. She had to love him. How could she possibly understand that she was the only one who did – or ever would?
    This was my fault. How many times could I have stepped in when I was alive to be a real father, providing the guidance that