So yes, I was surprised, if you were wondering. But did I immediately run off and follow her? No, because I also had some doubts. This wasn’t the first time someone had pulled something like this on me, only that led to lead to seven robbers, everything stolen, and major disappointment. Ever since that time, I was a little wary.
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“How do I know you’re telling the truth?” I asked her. “You could just be some sham artist, for all I know. Or-or a robber. Maybe you are trying to rob a bank after all, and you’ve been lying to me this whole time.”
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Kasha shook her head impatiently. She bit her lip and frowned. “I’m not trying to rob a bank or trick you, I promise. Like I said, I have your problem too, and I want to help you—help both of us.”
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With those words, a thought suddenly occurred to me.
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“Something doesn’t add up about what you’re saying.” She tilted her head. “If you had the chance to stop what-what we have, why are you still here? Why are you helping me when you could’ve just gone ahead? Why wait for me to show up?”
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Silence.
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“What makes you think I haven’t tried?” she exploded suddenly, making me jump. “I’ve spent my whole life trying. You think it’s easy to know something and not be able to do anything about it?”
“But why not?” I cut in. “I mean, I get that you’ve done what you could, but why can’t you do anything else? Shouldn’t it be simple?”
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Kasha shook her head again, this time sadly. “No, it’s just—I can’t do it. I don’t have the right materials, or enough people, or—anything. It’s a curse, you know, and those aren’t exactly easy to break.”
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Oh, so it was a curse. I never would've figured that out. “Right. I got that. But how do we stop it? You still haven’t told me what exactly you learned.”
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“Well, a lot of it has to do with who you are, Matt. And who I am. Our identities. I’ve learned that no matter what we remember, we don’t know our first life.”
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“Really?” I asked, an eyebrow up. “I must’ve been a confused farmer.”
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“The only explanation I’ve come up with,” Kasha continued quietly, “is that it’s a result of the curse, or even part of it. Not knowing what is the frustrating bit, since it would really help in stopping this thing.”
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“So who am I?” I was curious.
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There was a slight pause as she considered my question, obviously debating whether to tell me or not.
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“I can’t tell you. It wouldn’t be better if you knew, trust me.”
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Too bad.
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“Hey, do you know what time it is?” I asked, suddenly wanting to know. “I-I forgot my watch, and I’m getting tired.”
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Kasha looked surprised for a second, but she quickly recovered. “Oh, it’s, uh, around nine thirty-ish? Forty five? That would be my best guess.”
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Wonderful. She didn’t know either. “Well, you know, it’s getting late, so—”
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I broke off as I saw Kasha’s eyes widen. “No!” she blurted out. “You can’t go!—yet.”
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“Why not?”
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“I have to tell you what we need to do first. It’s-it’s complicated. You need to know first.”
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“Okay,” I said. “But make it quick.”
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“All right. Fine. So, basically, what we need to do is look for the source of the curse and destroy it.”
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I waited. “That’s it?” I said. “That’s all you’ve got? That’s nothing to go on!”
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“And to do that, we need to figure out who or what put the curse on us, and why. So with our names, we could figure out more.” An impatient tone crept into Kasha’s voice. “And I know our names, so we can start from there. Understand?”
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“But you’re not telling me what my name is, so what’s the point?”
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“I will tell you. Just...when the right time comes. Like I said, trust me.”
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I shrugged. “If you say so. Well, what do we do now?”
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“We set off.”
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She proceeded to march down the street, not checking to see if I was following her. I hesitated for half a minute before I finally decided to go after her.
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“Wait!” I yelled.
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She whirled around, annoyed. “What?”
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“It’s, uh, well, it’s pretty late. I need to get home or my parents will freak out. I could meet you tomorrow though—”
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“Since when did you care about parents?” she scoffed. “You’ve lived for what, three, four thousand years? And you’ve had countless mothers and fathers. So you can abandon this pair, can’t you?”
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I stared at Kasha, shocked. “No! I can’t! I’m not that cold-hearted, no matter how many years I’ve lived. I have to say goodbye, at least.”
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She rolled her eyes. “Well, by all means, do and waste more time. Look, do you want to look for a cure or not?”
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“Of course I do! I just—I need to let them know I’m leaving.” I paused. “And so they won’t send the entire police force after me.”
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Kasha sighed heavily, clearly not too enthusiastic about waiting for me. “Fine. Just don’t take too long.”
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I nodded. I turned around and walked away, heading toward home.
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The door squeaked as I swung it open, revealing the staircase that led to the upper parts of the house. There was a small hallway beside it that ran into the kitchen. It was ornamented with candleholders placed at set intervals, and it was painted a peeling baby blue. I took a deep breath. The relief of being home wiped away any thought of Kasha, and I felt the sudden urge to pick up a book and relax.
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I turned on the lights. Something felt immediately wrong. From my place at the doorway, I could see a pot on the stove cooking, steam rising from the lid. Why would my mom or dad cook this late at night? I glanced at the clock that was hanging haphazardly on the corridor wall. It read 9:46. It had been almost an hour since I had gone.
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Closing the door behind me, I walked cautiously into the kitchen. From a casual observer’s perspective, it would look perfectly normal, but I could sense something not quite right. For one, my mom’s green, jeweled glasses were left perched on top of the oak table. This never happened. She always wore them except when she absolutely needed to take them off, and even then she kept them in a pocket. I once asked her about this, but she shook her head, said, ‘You’ll know one day’ and left, leaving me a very confused toddler.
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The pot whistled slightly behind me. I turned towards the stove, and was relieved to find that the fire was not on. However, there was still the matter of telling my parents that I would be going away. And quelling the strange feeling that I had that something was off.
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“Mom! Dad! I’m home!” I yelled loudly. I hoped that one of them would call back, but nothing came. That was when I knew something was wrong. It was a rule in our house to speak when spoken to, though anyone could talk at any time. My dad was strict about rules since he made most of them. If anyone would answer, he would.
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I ran up the stairs. My parent’s bedroom door was shut, also something that would never happen. I rammed it open to reveal—
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Nothing.
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It was just a blank room, like my parents never existed. Perfect, unmarked white walls created a box around a smooth hardwood floor. It looked like it did before we moved in. I took small steps to the center of the room, not daring to breathe. I made a slow 360° turn, checking for any sign at all of anything. My senses told me there was nothing, but my mind didn’t want believe it. How? The scuffs that were supposed to be everywhere were gone. There weren’t even the nail holes from paintings that had hung on the walls.
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Running down again into the kitchen, I paused, bewildered, at my mother’s glasses. They were proof that this set of parents was here just forty-five minutes ago. Suddenly, a voice whispered, Put them on, so I did, carefully. I expected to be met with the same uncomfortable feeling of my eyes being strained, but instead I got something that confused me even more.
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There was a note on the inside of the glasses, or at least that’s how it appeared. Black, rippling words hovered in the air in the center of my vision. They spelled out a sentence that made me catch my breath in shock:
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IT’S NOT YOUR FAULT
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I wasn’t panicking yet, but I was pretty close. My heart sounded deafening in my ears, pounding out the beats of terror. I hastily took the spectacles off and put them in my pocket. Unable to bear it any longer, I ran outside, letting the door slam shut behind me with a final and resounding clang.
