The Portal, Brieanna Boyce [distant reading TXT] 📗

I sat in my cubical typing in numbers, always numbers. The cubical seemed as though it had completely engulfed me that no one could reach me and I was stuck in the mundane world of my phone, my computer, and my stapler. God I hated my job. Of course, it wasn't about me though, I had my chance as a free lance artist and I didn't make crap. I grinned and bared it, as much as I hated my career I needed to get through it for my wife and son. My wife isn't exactly where she'd hoped to be either, she never pictured that her, the party girl, the bad ass, guessed she'd be a secretary and mother. It's not to say we aren't happy my wife and I have a great relationship and my son, well he is a prodigy. The kid was moved up two grade levels, he's constantly got a book in his hand and he was not only intellectually gifted, but athletically as well. My wife and I looked to our son Conner and knew that he had a world of opportunity ahead of him. That he could do whatever he wanted and he wouldn't be in a cubical or answering phones all day. Although the world dictated my wife and I there would be no force that could bend Conner.

He was 10 years old, he had big blue eyes and brown spiky short hair. He was average for his age but in classes with kids two or three years older than him. However due to his athletic prowess, intelligence, and presence in the football and baseball team. He was well liked by the students and faculty. So you could imagine my surprise when I received a call from the school saying that something strange was going on with Conner and I had to come down. I tried to tell them I was at work and asked if they'd try my wife. However, the school said they'd tried her and couldn't get in contact. He said it was urgent I come down to the principle's office at once.

I somehow weaseled my way out of work despite the frustration of my boss. I ran to my car and drove to the school immediately, I still couldn't comprehend it. My son? My Conner? He's never been in trouble before. I never dreamed I'd get this call.

I got into my car with the smell of pine circulating through the car. I rolled down the window and stuck my non driving hand outside the window to meet the gusting wind outside. I finally made it up to Conner's school, about a half hour drive away from my work and anxiously got out of the car. I tried to the best of my ability to go through recent events, things Conner put in his backpack, or things he told me, anything that could give me a clue as to why I was here today.

As I walked into the overly orderly and sterile office I was greeted by the man resembling the room, bland boring, dry, and all about regulations. No doubt the principal.

He stood to greet me clearing his throat motioning to the seat in front of him we than sat down. "Is your son on medication?"

I scrunched my face, "No why would he be?"

"Well," the principal hesitated, "We noticed a change in Conner's behavior, he seemed distant, quiet, even startled. In his health class students write in a notebook occasionally to express themselves. The teacher concerned for his mental health. When she read it... she found drawings and things that were... disturbing. We think he may be ill."

I blinked, trying to calm my rage there was nothing wrong with my son, "Let me see this notebook."

The man handed it over, and I looked through it, in it were horrible grotesque drawings all over the place, all sorts of bugs and creatures which boggled the imagination. I read in it, the writing was shaky, hectic, not the clean handwriting of my son, but I read anyway curious. The first page read "They won't leave me alone they never stop, I thought they went away but they don't they never leave me. WHAT DO THEY WANT FROM ME?" I felt a shiver up my spine and looked to the principle.

I closed the notebook feeling as if I had violated some other child's mind. "That is not my son, his handwriting not the same and he never had an interest in drawing or art I hardly think he could draw a stick figure."

The principle handed me assignment after assignment with hectic drawings and hectic writing all over it. All of them with Conner's name on it.

"Why don't we ask Conner?"

The principle sighed and nodded than called Conner down. I watched him enter the room his eyes wide, his gaze darted to me, worried and confused.

"Come here son," I said calmly, "do not worry you're not in any trouble."

He sat himself beside me.

The principle looked at Conner, "some of your teachers have expressed some concern for you... we are worried about you, and are willing to help in any way we can."

Conner nodded, and I grabbed the notebook full of disturbing images and held it out, "Is this yours?"

Conner gaped, "She promised no one would read it!" He explained in anger and fear.

I gaped shocked, I couldn't believe... my son drew these things.

"She promised!" he screamed.

The principle caught off guard by Conners anger interjected, "We were merely-,"

"INVADING MY PRIVACY!"

I took Conner's arm, "I'm sorry Conner, I didn't think it was yours, come on sit with me." I tried to be calm tried not to further agitate Conner but my mind was reeling with questions.

Conner reluctantly sat glaring at the principle, he cleared his throat again. "We suggest perhaps he see a therapist and perhaps receive medication for this."

I stood, "I am dismissing my son," I took the notebook and handed it to Conner, than looked to the principle, "and I will decide in which way to help my son."

We went to the office and signed him out of school than headed home, the whole car ride was taken over by silence. I knew I should've said something, anything but the words would not come. Instead I brought him to the store and got a box that had a lock that he decided. I told him it was for his notebook than we went home. I made a dinner of Chicken Nuggets and Fries and still could not find my wife. Conner looked at the box with the lock, "Thanks dad."

"No problem sport," I paused," How long have you been feeling this way?"

Conner sighed, "as long as I can remember dad."

I sat down with him, "you don't have to tell me everything... but please... if there's anything you want to say to me don't hesitate."

Conner ate than went to his room, than almost immediately my wife Gillian walked in. "Gillian where have you been?"

She got annoyed, "Out. Why are you so pissed?" Now in front of our son she didn't talk like this but when it was me and her she became the rebellious teen she was before.

"The school tried to contact you several times, I had to leave work and come dismiss Conner."

Gillian looked horrified "What happened?"

"Nothing," I sighed, "he's been drawing and writing disturbing things about how he sees things..."

Gill became quiet and pale, "Oh." She than went to wash the dishes clearly distracted by thoughts. I came up behind her hugging her close by her waist. She bristled under my touch

I wanted to pry but couldn't I quietly went to my sons room and sat against the door, hoping, praying he'd ask me to come in and talk about it. Instead I sat ouside his door until I fell asleep.

Than I heard a scream I ran into my sons room. There was the shape of a woman with ink black skin and hair, she had no eyes or mouth she looked as though she were fluid her body not completly solid, she seemed to be coming from the wall and pulling my son in. I reached and yanked him back the creature woman thrashing and being sucked through the wall.

When I woke up I was sitting up in Conner's bed, sheilding him. I couldn't tell if that was a dream or not.

I woke up and told Conner to get ready for school and that if he needed me I was right here. I stood outside the door as he changed than brought him downstairs. Gillian wouldn't look at Conner and walked briskly past him. I brought Conner to school than came immediatly home.

"What was that Gillian!"

Gill jumped her blue eyes widening, "What?"

"You ignored your son! After all that's happening you ignored your son?!"

Gillian walked over and slapped me, "YOU DON"T KNOW ANYTHING! DON'T YOU DARE JUDGE ME! I DON'T WANT THAT EVIL!"

I blinked horrified, "Our son?!"

Gillian sighed, "I love Conner," Gill paced, "The evil Thomas, not our son the evil that clings to him."

"What evil?"

"THE EVIL! THE EVIL I TOLD HIM NO ONE MUST EVER KNOW OF!!!!" She burst into tears on the kitchen floor I went to reach for her shoulder but she drew away and ran out of the house.

I should have chased her, should have made her stay. How was I to know?

I stayed home all day sitiing, I didn't move, didn't eat I sat at the kitchen table waiting for Gillian or my son or both.

Conner walked in and put his books down and sat with me.

"Conner?" I asked.

"Yeah dad?

"That thing... last night... that was real wasn't it."

Conner twirled around his mouth ajar, "y-you think it's real?"

"Well I saw it too..."

Conner stared, as if waiting for me to take it back I never did though.

"Do you see more Conner?"

Conner continued to stare.

"Conner."

"Yes dad, lots."

"Is there anything you notice about them?"

Conner blinked and thought, "They come when I feel bad."

I pat his head, "good, good, and what do they do?"

Conner sighed, "They try to scare me, upset me, they threaten to do things... they also tell me things."

"What do they tell you Conner."

"They tell me it's moms fault," he hissed, "they tell me that she wasn't brave enough and I have to take her place. I'm how they'll get out of prison. They said she doesn't love me, that she hates me."

Suddenly a corner of the table was melting, Conner continued, and I let him. Than rose a beast with small eyes and gargantion teeth. He took up almost the whole kitchen and roared loudly he huffed and roared, stomping his large feet on the ground aggitated.

"What about mommy makes you mad Conner?"

"She did this to me," his eyes welled up, "it's her fault" he sobbed harder, "I love mom why would she do this?" Suddenly the ink black woman appeared I tightened my grip around Conner. she had no mouth yet her words were heard. "Conner, Conner, you