The Revelation

CW:Substance abuse, mental health

The autumn air whispered through the remaining leaves that clung to the trees as if their very lives depended upon it. Miller, in his bedroom, paced back and forth, stopping briefly in front of the mirror as he caught yet another glimpse of himself. He ran his fingers carelessly through his deep mahogany, disheveled hair, then nervously fumbled with the collar of his sweater. He then cleared his throat with the authority of a toddler just discerning how to speak, when barely, albeit somewhat audibly, he said, "Ahem, uh, er, you look, um, beautiful tonight, Rory." His face looked pained in the mirror, and his brow furrowed in utter disappointment. I'm going to mess things up tonight, he thought to himself. Just then a text came through on his phone: "I'll be ready in 15 minutes, I can't wait to see you." Rory possessed the aplomb that Miller only dreamed of, so self-assured. The very qualities that Miller found irrevocably attractive. He took one last hasty look at himself in the mirror before deciding to leave for Rory's house, "Don't screw this up, Miller." With that, he quietly crept down the stairs, pausing briefly to look at the portrait of his mother on the wall. He lightly traced the outline of her delicate face before saying, "I'm sorry about doing this mom." and continued down the stairs. Miller's father, a raucous man, known to many as the town drunk, was passed out with the tv blaring, a sight that had become familiar to Miller, but it hadn't always been this way. Miller's mom was the glue that kept them together, and her unexpected departure from this earth left the whole family to process things in their own ways. Kevin, Miller's dad, turned to the bottle, and his baby sister, well she found solace in the arms of men that were twice her age. Kevin was usually too buzzed to notice Ellis skipping out the front door, usually scantily clad, likely wearing something she had pilfered from the only clothing store in their sleepy town. Miller had turned to writing music and casually strumming on his guitar as a means to cope. At times he wished he could be reckless like his father and Ellis, but he remembered a conversation he had with his mother a couple of years earlier, and that was enough to keep him honest. He made it to the front door, the last hurdle to making it out of the house, and a formidable opponent it was. The door had a distinct creak, from an evening of hallucinations as his father had again attempted to get sober, but the withdrawal proved stronger than his resolve, and he took a sledgehammer to the door because in his words, "Miller, I saw him. He was here and I swear to God, if he thinks he's going to sneak your mom out of the house right under my nose again, he's got another thing coming." Big words and misplaced actions, Miller thought to himself. His hand nervously reached for the doorknob when he heard that all-too-familiar noise of the door grating against its own hinges, signifying its own internal struggle. Miller cautiously stepped over the threshold and cleared the doorway when he heard his dad say, "Damnit, I said she's not here." Miller paused surreptitiously praying that his dad was dreaming, and that he wouldn't hear the heavy plod of his dad's footsteps. Silence followed, he was in the clear. Miller took long purposeful steps towards his father's old pickup truck, might as well take dad's Chevy, not like he can drive it, legally anyway he thought. He knew better than to start it near the house, it was anything but quiet, so instead he motioned for Ellis and the current "love of her life", who were outside under the large Oak Tree tangled up in such a way, that one would have trouble deciphering that there was in fact more than one person on the tattered plaid blanket to come help him roll it down the driveway and out to the dirt road that intersected it. Ellis, annoyed to have had her romp interrupted, took her sweet time hopping into the Chevy to steer it as the two boys pushed it from the rusted-out tailgate, or what was left of it anyway. Miller thanked Ellis, for some reason, probably because that's what she always expected when she was mildly inconvenienced by the requests of others, so he obliged. The Chevy roared to life unpredictably, which both surprised and elated Miller. "No need to get under the hood today, huh?" he said. It was 3 miles to town, and 4 to Rory's house, counting the standard one-mile walk he made each time to pick her up. Miller's family had unfortunately acquired quite the reputation in town over the years. And Rory's parents would NEVER give her permission to date him, so the two resolved that instead of permission, they would ask for forgiveness, but it wouldn't get to that point, not with the elaborate escape route that Rory had concocted. His drive was uneventful as he reached the abandoned corner lot that had become embarrassingly overgrown with weeds and just so happened to discreetly camouflage the clunky old Chevy pickup truck. He popped a piece of minty gum in his mouth before quickly exiting the truck, not bothering to take the keys with him. Walking down Magnolia Street towards her house, he caught sight of her, her long blonde strands of hair shone in the sun as if they had been hand-spun by God himself. Miller stopped dead in his tracks, bracing himself for her usual greeting and when she was just a couple steps away, she transformed from the confident goddess she was normally into her childlike state, erupting with elation before jumping into his arms. Her arms around his neck felt familiar, but still he felt uneasy. She gave him a quick, but passionate kiss, and when she pulled away slowly, he looked at her and said, "Are you sure this is a good idea?" "This is going to be legit." she said. "Sage and Charlie were here just last weekend and couldn't stop talking about it." "Ok, but I've heard some things, you know about the Montgomery place. Supposedly it's haunted." "And?...Rory chirped." Miller knew there was no way he was getting out of doing this and with that they headed in the direction of the abandoned lot. When they were nearly a block from the lot, Rory froze suddenly when she recognized her dad's flashy sports car. They both ducked behind the nearby house, barely making it out of sight as he whizzed by. With the coast clear they left their hiding spot and reemerged to the sidewalk, Rory's hand intertwined with Miller's. The weeds in the abandoned lot swayed wildly as the wind suddenly picked up, sending a tingle down Miller's neck. He opened the driver's side door and let Rory slide to the middle seat, barely leaving him enough room, closing the door behind him, he turned the key, and again the Chevy fired up. The truck slowly rolled into the street, and back down Magnolia Street, only three more opportunities for him to turn around and change his plans stood between them and the Montgomery place. He reached over and gently squeezed Rory's knee as if to convince himself he was making the right decision. Miller grinned as Rory dazzled him with her knowledge of the Montgomery place. "You know, legend has it that when you pull in the drive, if you turn your headlights off you can see a woman in a white nightgown weaving frantically in and out of the Dogwoods that line the driveway. "Yeah, I've heard that", Miller said, trying not to let his nerves get to him. "Sage said when she and Charlie were here, laid out on a blanket in the living room, they both felt the air become so thick it was almost suffocating and the faint smell of liquor filled the air, but as quickly as it set in, it disappeared, they almost dismissed it, but then they heard the sound of a glass bottle ping off the floor and shatter into a million pieces." "Hmm," Miller chided feigning confidence. The truck rolled up to the stop sign, and when Miller went to push down on the gas, his luck with getting the clunky old pickup truck to perform had run out. "Great", he said. "Oh come on, Miller, lighten up, it's not like your dad can drive anyway, and by the time he realizes the truck is gone you'll have it back up and working I know you will." They both climbed out of the truck which they worked to push just off the roadway. "We're only a 1/2 of a mile away from the Montgomery place and we could walk there, besides Sage and Charlie could come pick us up." Miller sat his phone on the driver's seat contemplating if he should let his father know about the truck, but decided better of it, took the keys from the ignition and walked off. Rory was a few feet ahead talking to Sage, who I could tell was more than happy to help us out. "Just an hour", Rory said. She ended the call and Miller, overcome with courage and desire, pulled Rory in close to him, his hands lightly on either side of her waist and his eyes on hers. "You know, I'm not sure this is a great idea, but I trust you", he said and with that they continued walking, reaching the edge of the drive as the last bit of sunlight drained from the sky. "Guess we won't have to worry about headlights, Miller joked." As they turned into the drive, the Montgomery place coming into focus, a large dewy spiderweb lightly obscured Miller's view, "I'm glad you're taller than me." A sheepish grin formed on Miller's face as he turned to look at Rory, just in time to see the color drain from Rory's face. "What, what is it?", he said. Silence was not usually Rory's gift, and he was perturbed that she chose now to show off this skill. Her eyes grew wider as she pointed ahead of them, "There, there she is!" Just then Miller found what Rory's eyes already had, it was the woman of Montgomery place, and as she ran between the trees, coming closer and closer to the two of them, Miller couldn't help but notice her delicate face that seemed to share some uncanny similarities to his mother's. He shook his head, unsure if he trusted what his eyes were showing him. "That's, that's my..." "Your what, Miller? Spit it out", Rory harped. "Maybe we should go, Rory, Miller said." "Oh come on, She looks harmless." They continued to approach the old manor, where intricate woodwork adorned the large wrap-around porch, but Miller didn't have time, right now, to appreciate the craftsmanship. She was coming closer, and closer yet until she stood right in front of both Miller and Rory, and her features were undeniable. She was Miller's mother, but why was she haunting the Montgomery place? Miller's father had explained to him and Ellis that their mother had fallen ill, and it proved to be more than her body was prepared to fight as the newness of growing a new life waged its war within her. Suddenly, Miller had more questions that he did answers and waves of memories flooded him. The apparition seemed to acknowledge this recognition within Miller when suddenly there was a blindly flash of light that brought Miller and Rory to their knees, and when their eyes had readjusted the ghost, she was gone. "I think we've seen enough" Miller said, hoping Rory wouldn't detect his retreating courage. "Come on, Miller, we're fine", Rory assured him. "She didn't seem ill-willed, but I feel like she had something to tell us, something to tell you, maybe she'll reward our bravery by returning. I want to hear her story." Rory skipped ahead to the front steps, while Miller followed behind very reluctantly. The distant glow of the security light provided both solace and enough brilliance to truly admire the craftsmanship of the expansive front porch. Rory reached for the door, "Wait!" Miller cried, let's hang out on the porch. "No way" Rory chided, we didn't come this far not to go in and with that she swung the door wide open. "Did you grab the blanket from the truck, Miller?" He looks down at his empty hands, "Uh no, dang it, I'm so sorry." Rory quickly scanned the surroundings noticing a blanket left behind by others who dared to explore. "Here, she said, this is perfect." Miller hardly thought perfect was the right word, but at least she had forgotten about him leaving the blanket in the truck. Together they curled up on a stranger's blanket, hardly noticing the dilapidated surroundings they found themselves in. Rory regaled Miller with the drama that existed in her friend group at school and effectively took his mind off of the uncanny likeness the ghost had to his mother when Rory paused briefly to catch her breath and go into the next juicy bit of gossip she suddenly went quiet. Miller and Rory lock eyes and without saying a word communicated that the sudden heaviness in the air had become impossible to ignore, and then there it was, the lingering smell of stale liquor, a familiar smell to Miller. The uneasiness was unbearable for Miller, who without recognizing, had made it to his feet and began heading to the door, when all of the sudden the sound of hundreds of chards of glass meeting the original hardwood floors permeated the entire house. "Ok, this is enough, Rory. Tell Sage and Charlie to come now." Rory starts to come to her feet, ready to meet Miller in protest when she sees a figure descending the stairs. She stops cold in her tracks, just in time for Miller to spin back around to see the shadowy figure too. The footsteps sound familiar, the faint glow of moon illuminates the room enough to make out features, the unkempt facial hair, the paunch of a belly built by years of neglect, he felt too scared to say it out loud, "Dad?" it came out anway. Dazed, Rory had now joined Miller at his side, and for the first time since seeing the ghost outside, the composure that Rory had, had left her body. She gripped his hand tightly when the shadowy figure began to pour gas along the edges of the room, seemingly unaware that he had an audience. "Dad", Miller called again, this time taking a step to try to shake his dad out of whatever hallucination he was in, but fell just short of catching his dad when familiar hands seemed to grip him and pull him back. At once, Miller snapped around to see her, again. A weariness filled her eyes, she quietly followed behind him, as he continued to pour the accelerant. Miller felt helpless, but seemed to understand that the ghost needed him to understand something. Miller's father dumps the last of the fuel on the floor before carelessly tossing the container off to the side and fumbling for a match in the front pocket of his jeans. Any reluctance Miller had had was gone, and instead it flooded every fiber of Rory's body. "We need to leave, Miller. Now!" Miller's father, clearly inebriated, struggled to light the match as he draws it up haphazardly to the wall, and sparks ignite wildly on contact. "Can we leave now, Miller?", Rory practically screamed. He had almost forgotten about her, at some point she had stopped following his father, probably a metaphor for their marriage, and she was now at the base of the stairs. His father carelessly tossed the match to the floor where it mingled with the trail of liquid spilled along the edges of the floor. Just then, his mother walked serenely toward the flames as they continue to grow and spread in the room. Rory, turned and ran toward the door, not stopping to look back, effectively leaving Miller on his own. For once, Miller wasn't questioning things and understand that there was nothing he could do to stop his mom. This decision she was making now, Miller recognized was one made by his father all those years ago, things suddenly made sense. His mom was far from a perfect person, and Miller vaguely remembered hearing his father throw around the word affair, but he knew that his mother had become sick in early pregnancy and that's what ripped her from this life, but standing in the living room of the Montgomery Place he wasn't so sure. She looked at peace, the weariness no longer bore lines around her eyes, instead in its place, a look of total and complete peace. The flames grew closer to Miller as his mom extended an outreached hand. It was then that he recognized that the past and present were intermingled in the living room of that old abandoned house. He turned to leave, recognizing that leaving here would mean his life would never be the same, but at least he'd never have to face his horrible father again, the torment of his decisions had finally caught up to him, and his heavy steps ceased and instead gave way to heavy labored breaths. Miller could probably wake him, and drag him out, but what would it help? The flames erupted as they claimed more of that old abandoned house, and somehow healed parts of Miller he didn't know needed healed before coming out here tonight. He looked at his father laying in a heap one last time, and walked out the front door as headlights appeared in the drive.