[Act #2] Chapter #7: The Curse Of The Banshee

17 years ago

"What're you doin' Fay?" my mother asks as I tug at her hand.

"Who's that lady standing next to gran'pa?" I ask as I spot the incredibly pale woman with gorgeous fire red hair blowing in the wind. For some reason, she seems to be crying, but I can't hear it at all even though she's not that far from us.

"What? You mean granny?" my mother asks, looking at my grandmother sitting in a chair beside my grandfather as he flips meat on the grill. "You know who that is, don't you, silly boy?"

"No, not granny. The other lady… the one with pretty red hair," I tell her pointing at the woman, who now seems to take notice of me.

"You sure are an imaginative one. There's nobody there, baby," she says and kisses the top of my head, making her way back inside the house from the backyard.

"Fay, come on! We're gonna go to the store! Mom's takin' us! She said we can even get some candy!" Quinn, my older brother, calls out to me through the screen door.

"Just bring me something back," I tell him, and he shrugs me off, running through the house.

I make my way over to the pale woman, skin white as pure snow, eyes a vibrant purple, and her dress green as the deep shades of the forest. The tears pour down her face in a way that troubles me, makes me feel a burdened sadness as it spreads over my body, almost making me want to cry myself. I approach her and hug her leg, burying my face inside of her dress. She's cold, sending an icy chill through my skin as I hug her.

"Can you see me, little one?" the woman asks through her tears, a few splashing on my face as she bends over me. I nod my head, feeling tears of my own now welling up and pouring down my cheeks.

"Why are you crying?" I ask sadly, the tears soaking my face and drenching the top half of my shirt now.

"That man, your grandfather, is going to die very soon," she responds, pointing at him while he continues to grill blissfully. They see my face fall and crinkle up as I start to cry out. And while I'm wailing, my grandparents rush to my side, trying to console me, to figure out why I'm crying, the woman with fiery hair continues. "I'm sorry little one… there's nothing anyone can do to stop it… I'm sorry…"

Then she begins wailing yet again. And though I know she's crying out with all of her lungs, her neck and face straining with the power behind it, I could still hear nothing, only to see that as scared as I was, she was equally filled with sorrow.

"What is it, Fay? Did you hurt yourself? Where is it, show me so I can make it better," my grandmother asks, searching me for any scrapes or bruises.

"S-She said gran'pa is gonna die!!!" I cry out, wailing into my grandmother's shirt as my grandparents give each other a disturbed and confused look.

"Come here Fay, come here…" my grandfather beckons and I rush over to him. "I'm okay… Everythin's gonna be okay, see? I'm still fit as a fiddle kiddo! I'm not goin' anywhere!"

And though, at the moment, he was able to assure me that things would be okay, and that I had just imagined the woman, merely two days later, he had passed away from a massive heart attack.

A week after his death, we're at his funeral, and I'm sitting outside on the church steps by myself, not wanting to go inside. A lot of people were talking about me, saying that I was cursed or that I had brought back the curse, something weird like that. But whenever I got close, they'd shut up and walk away, casting their disgusted gazes down at me. I look over to see a small murder of crows perched atop a nearby tree, all of them hopping down to the pavement as I stare. Two of the biggest crows hop over to me, looking me over very diligently. One of them flies over and lands on my shoulder, blinking at me, while the other caws and calls the rest over to perch on the railing beside me.

"They like you. Your parents seem to have named you well," the woman with red hair says, walking so smoothly that it looks like she's gliding over the concrete with her bare feet.

"…Why did you kill my gran'pa?" I ask, feeling the tears welling up in my eyes. The crow on my shoulder caws defiantly, shaking its tail feathers before nuzzling the side of my cheek.

"I was not the cause of his death, little one. Please understand, I never kill anyone. I only warn others of their approaching demise," she explains, but I don't quite understand, still only being seven years old. "I warn people of when their time to pass on is coming. I don't kill anyone ever. And I don't take joy in anyone's death."

"So, my gran'pa was gonna die no matter what?" I ask, my voice catching in my throat. She nods solemnly, her face growing sad at my understanding. 

"It was his time, little one. He went peacefully, in his sleep. I watched as his soul moved on," she consoles.

"So what are you? And why can't anyone else see you?"

"I am called a Banshee."

"Banshee? That sounds like something bad… but you seem nice. You were really sad, you cried for my gran'pa."

"Most of us are not vile creatures in nature, the majority of our kind are just messengers for those close to passing. It's why you couldn't hear me singing for your grandfather days ago when we first met. And as for why you can see me, I believe you have a high sensitivity towards spirits, little one. I believe I am just the first one you have had the misfortune of meeting," the banshee explains as more crows begin to land around us.

"So, could gran'pa hear you? When you were singing for him?"

"Yes. On the final night of his life, he heard my song. If I am not mistaken, I believe it calmed him as he passed from this world into the afterlife."

"I'm glad that he wasn't scared. My granny said he was smiling when she found him," I say, looking up at her with tears streaming down my face. "I don't think you're bad. I'm glad I was able to meet you. I just wish it wasn't like this…"

"Thank you, Fay," she responds softly.

"What's your name?" I ask innocently.

"When I was a mortal, I was given the name Aina, though I haven't been called that in over 900 years now, little one," she answers.

"You were human before? Like me?" I ask, barely understanding what she meant. She gives me a small nod, admitting that it was so long ago she barely remembers it, or who she was, just her name. "Aina… that's a really pretty name! I like it."

She gives me a weak smile, putting a chilly hand on my shoulder. I hear footsteps approaching and turn around to see seven of my cousins coming down the church stairs before looking over at me. "There he is."

"Hi guys," I respond.

"Don't 'hi' us, you stupid freak! You're the one who killed grandpa!" my oldest cousin, Rory, says disgustedly, cringing his face up, the others all following suit. "You brought back the curse on our family! My dad said so! You cursed little shit!"

"I didn't kill gran'pa!!! I'm not cursed… Am I?" I said, looking over at Aina, who shakes her head in response. "See! I'm not cursed! I didn't do anything!!!"

"Who're you talkin' to? Nobody's there butthead!" my cousin Rowena shouts, all of them laughing at me. "And why are there so many crows around you weirdo?"

"It's a sign!" Sean, her brother, decides excitedly, trying to kick them away, only for them to hop closer to me instead. "It must be a sign that he's cursed!!"

"The fuck did you say?" Quinn asks, breaking through their ranks and stares Sean directly in the eye. Nobody responds. "I asked you what the fuck you just said you asshole!"

"I-I-I'm just repeating what Rory had said," Sean admits, casting his gaze down very quickly. Quinn glares over at Rory, who stands his ground, merely sneering at my brother.

"Yeah, and what d'you have to say asshole?!" Quinn challenges. Quinn is only a year older than me, but he's always been one to stand up to others, never backing down, even to Rory, who's already eleven years old. 

"I said your brother is cursed you little fucker! He's the one who killed grandpa, and if we're not careful, he'll kill us t-" Rory doesn't get a chance to finish his sentence as Quinn leaps on him and begins thrashing him, grabbing his head and bashing it against the hard concrete. Rory tries to push him off, but is too disoriented now from all the blows to the skull.

"You. Don't. Ever. Talk. About. My. Brother. Like. That. Again! Do you hear me?!?!" Quinn roars in his face as he slams our cousin's head down hard with every word. Finally releasing him so that he can get up. There's a large spot of blood on the floor when Rory gets up, shoving Quinn off of him as he begins to cry and run off back inside, followed by all of our other cousins. "He's not cursed, it's this dumbass family that's cursed!!"

He comes over and hugs me, the crows fluttering away as he comes close, including the crow on my shoulder, cawing unhappily in the nearby trees. Aina looks on sadly, stepping back for a moment. Within seconds, the cousins reemerge from the church doors, accompanied by our aunts and uncles, and our own parents. They're all yelling at Quinn who can't even get a word in, until the crows begin to swoop in on them. They scream and shoo them away.

"Quinn only did it because they said I killed gran'pa!" I come to his defense in the brief minute of silence.

"You did kill him, you cursed little shit! You brought back the curse on this whole goddamn family!!!" my uncle roars at me as his wife hurries Rory into the car and peels off, probably to the hospital. Without a moment's hesitation my dad starts arguing with his brother until it escalates, my uncle punching my dad so hard he breaks his nose. And just like Quinn, my dad rushes him and starts beating the crap out of him while he's still on the ground. The family tries to break it up, but it only stops when my granny ends up coming outside in tears.

"Stop it! Stop it now, both of you!!! Your father is dead! And this is how you act?! Like children who know no better?!!" she yells out angrily. "Fay didn't do anything!!! He's a little boy! How dare you blame him for your father's passing!! Come here Fay!" 

I walk to my granny and she pulls me in tight, almost as if she knows something I don't. She begins wailing, which stops everyone in their tracks. Quinn comes over and hugs her as well, apologizing for fighting with Rory. She lets me go and I look amongst the crowd of family members, and behind my father, who is dusting himself off, I spot her. I feel all the warmth drain from my body so quickly that even my brother and granny take notice, asking if I'm okay.

The elderly woman is gaunt, unnaturally skinny, with her black dress shredded at the ends of her sleeves and the hem of the dirty dress. It leaves her looking ragged like an unfortunate homeless woman. But this isn't a woman, or even human. It's… something else… Her hands are bony, like there's no meat left on her bones, and her fingernails are jagged and dirty, with a hint of blood mixed in. Her feet are completely blackened, and she has no toenails, though where nails should be, instead is replaced by bloodied muscle tissue, as if the nails had been ripped off. The thing has long blood soaked white hair that drips crimson droplets on the floor behind her. And on both her hands and feet, she has the markings of the stigmata, holes puncturing through the flesh, and scratches around the whole of her head, as if she had just taken off a crown of thorns.

Her face is the scariest bit though. Where her eyes should be, are bloodied emptied sockets, that are immensely blackened around the holes, as if they'd been bludgeoned in instead of scooped out, as it originally seemed. Her nose is gone, leaving only chunky hunks of meat dangling off of the edges of the protruding bone and nasal cavity that leads into her skull. Her mouth is lipless, showing off her gums, dark as pitch, and her teeth, sharpened to a point and thinner than they should be, so that as she cackles at the spectacle of our family, she bites down on her gray tongue constantly, crimson flowing past the fang-like teeth, down her chin and neck, and onto the ground. The shadows that follow behind her swirl through the air, licking all that they touch, as if trying to pull everything into their ranks.

As if being able to 'see' me, her holes glare directly at me and she smiles sinisterly, before making her way over to me. I rush away from my granny and Quinn and burst into the church where the thing sprints after me, hands outstretched, and cackling wildly, her laughter causing me to shake. I hide behind a row of pews to the far left in hope that she doesn't notice me. I'm there for only a few short seconds before I feel hands clasp onto my shoulders, and the stench of putrid rotting meat wafts through the air. I whip my head around to be greeted by the witch-like woman, her face only an inch from mine.

"You can see me?! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! Good! You'll get to watch, as I kill off everyone in your entire family!! This wretched family that cursed me, just as they curse you!!! Be glad child! I'll even save you for last!!!" she screams in my ears so loud that they begin ringing, and my bladder flushes on its own. I scream bloody murder and my father runs in to find me in the fetal position, cowering in fear with piss-soaked dress pants. He tries to find out what's wrong with me, only to have me continue screaming at the top of my lungs.

It's only when Aina finds me that I stop, as she pushes the vile witch away, screaming at it until it leaves, the witch snarling at me one more time. Aina then comes to my side and strokes the side of my face, calming me down. But the fear was too much to handle all at once, and I pass out.

I wake up later that day in some fresh clothes, inside of my granny's living room. Nobody is with me, but I can hear all of them in the next room arguing about what had happened at the church, with Quinn and Rory, my dad and uncle, and with me "going crazy" as they keep putting it. Looking around, I see that Aina is sitting in the chair beside me. She gives me a tiny smile, telling me, "It's okay now Fay, she won't come in here. It seems that your grandmother has old charms here to repel spirits that mean any harm to others, though I am unsure how well they will work for a spirit of her caliber."

"What was that thing Aina?! And what did it mean? Why does it want my family dead?!" I ask, panic taking over once again. She sits down beside me, her purple eyes focusing on my face.

"What your family members had said before, about this family being cursed. They are not wrong, yet it is not I who torment your family, I simply look after them as I have always done. Nor is it you little one. It is the other, the witch, who brings harm and misfortune to your family. Her name was Deirdre, when she was still human. She was a pagan woman, who practiced witchcraft during the colonization of the Catholic religion to where she had lived in Ireland. She was part of your bloodline, and when she was accused of making pacts with demons and the devil, she was crucified to a cross and tortured for days by her own family. As a result, she became a vengeful banshee, with her sole goal in life to kill all remaining descendants of those who had wronged her and taken her life. Now she stalks your bloodline, Fay Savage, and will continue to do so, until she has successfully enacted her revenge."

"But… but why us? We never did anything to her!" I respond. 

"Her revenge is what keeps her here instead of letting her pass into the afterlife. Her hatred for her own family that wronged her. Perhaps it is why she seems to be at an impasse with you. But it is quite likely that she will attempt to drive to you suicide as well, or insanity, just as she has done to all others of your bloodline. She thinks it is a just punishment, seeing as killing yourself as a Catholic will condemn you to hell. I will try to do what I can, just as I always have, to watch over your family. And I will make sure to watch over you well, little one. No one who has been able to see me has ever shown me such kindness."

Just then I hear my father begin crying out in the family room, causing me to rush in there. My granny and mother are surrounding him as he cries out, scratching at his ears until they're skinless and bleeding. He opens his eyes to show them completely bloodshot and shedding glistening ruby tears. He glares over at me and his eyes pop open wide.

"What have you done Fay?! What did you do?!?! WHAT DID YOU DO?!?!" he demands as he crawls towards me in a scurry, gripping my shoulders so tight it hurts, refusing to let me go no matter how much I try to pry myself free. "What Hell have you brought upon this family?! Why?! WHY WON'T THE SCREAMING STOP?! WHY DOES SHE KEEP SCREAMING YOUR NAME FAY?!?!"

"What're you doin' you crazy bastard?! Let go of our son!!" my mother cries out, wrenching him away from me and throwing him to the floor where he continues to writhe in pain. He begins pressing his thumbs deep into his eyes. The older relatives try to pull his arms away, but it's too late. He digs his thumbs so far into his eyes that he gouges them out with a sickening POP, the whites oozing out from between the eyelids with a sickening amount of blood. He cries out through fits of hysteric laughter, standing quickly to ram into a wall, which he begins bashing his forehead into. Both of my uncles tackle him to the ground to stop the unnatural rampage on his body.

"Stop it!!!! What're you doin'?!" Rory's father roars out. In response, my father begins bashing his head against the hardwood floor, blood smearing against the redwood quickly before they manage to shove a few pillows underneath. "What's wrong with you?!?!"

"I HAVE TO MAKE IT STOP!!! THE PAIN!!! THIS IS NOTHING!!! NOTHING COMPARED TO WHAT SHE'S DOING TO ME!!! MAKE IT STOP!!! MAKE IT STOP!!!" He roars out in response. Then he sticks out his tongue as far as it will go, and chomps down on it four times until it flops out of his mouth and onto the floor lifelessly, a cascade of blood now flowing from the open wound. He keeps chomping as he chokes on the blood, and no matter how hard they try, none of my relatives can stop him. I watch with Quinn and my mother in horror as my father chokes on his own blood, having killed himself in my grandmother's house on the day of my grandfather's funeral. I hear laughter outside and spot the Witch, Deirdre, cackling hysterically just outside the window, just as my father had been, her gaze focused on me.

"This is just the start, FAY SAVAGE!!!!"

Today (2018)

"Fay, come on dude, or we'll be late for mom's funeral," Quinn says solemnly.

"Quinn," I call, and he turns around. "This… this isn't my fault, is it?" 

"Fay, you gotta stop blaming yourself for everything. And you said it yourself, right? That it wasn't the demon witch that killed mom like everyone else, it was Aina who sang her to sleep, just like she did with grandpa. Even if it was the witch, it wouldn't be your fault. She's the one who hates this family because of what our dumbass ancestors did who knows how long ago. You're basically just caught in the middle because you can see ghosts. Now, calm down, and let's go."

It's been 17 years since I first came into contact with the two banshee's that haunt our family. And while Aina is more of a blessing, a guardian angel compared to anything, Deirdre is a demon that plagues our bloodline. Over the passing years, she has killed 17 members of my family. My granny, both of my uncles and their wives, one great aunt and uncle (brother and sister to my granny), four of my older first cousins, five of my second cousins, and even killed my cousin Rory's two-year-old daughter. Every single one of them killed themselves in horrendous ways. 

My granny shot herself through the mouth only a few days after my father died, and died from the blood loss, not the shot itself. Both of my uncles hung themselves until their eyes popped out of their sockets, hanging on by only the optical nerve, on the exact same day. Their wives, my aunts, both got into boiling hot baths. One took a handful of pills, only the pills didn't end up killing her, but simply knocked her out for 12 hours. When she came to, the hot water was still running, and had dehydrated her so much she couldn't yell out, melting the skin off of her body so that it was floating around beside her. My cousins found her like that, roasting in bloody skin soup, and when the paramedics tried to get her out, she died from the shock of watching the meat strip off of her bones. The other decided to just throw a toaster into the bath with her, electrocuting herself so that her whole block's power cut off from the unprecedented surge. She ended up breaking off her fingernails and biting off the tip of her tongue in the process of dying.

One cousin had shoved the front half of his body into the oven and left it on while he roasted himself to death. He was half charcoal when they'd found him. Another had tried stabbing herself in the ear to stop the screams, only to end up carving a gigantic hole into the side of her head and killing herself by stabbing her brain. One slammed his head inside of the fridge door multiple times until his brain spilled out from his ears. Another shoved her face inside of the deep fryer at a fast-food restaurant she worked at. Her coworkers tried to save her, but she had also swallowed so much oil that it boiled her mouth, tongue, esophagus, and stomach lining. She died on the way to the hospital. And one even leapt off the edge of a building, but the impact didn't kill him, just crushed his body into a horrific mess. He died choking on his own blood, just like my father. The list goes on unfortunately, only getting worse with time, but the worst had to be little Caitlyn, Rory's daughter. Caitlyn had cried so much from the pain of the witch's wails, that her poor little eardrums burst and bled until it gave her a heart attack so vicious that her tiny heart popped. That was only six months ago, and Rory still hates me for it, even though I couldn't help her in any way, just as I couldn't help any of the others before her.

And now my mother herself has passed on, though this time Aina was the one to help her pass on, instead of Deirdre and her wicked ways. Aina is always kind, and has essentially become my best friend over the past 17 years. While on the other hand Deirdre has constantly been there as well, tormenting me without ever deciding to end me. And unfortunately, Aina can't always help fend her off, and I'm left to have a witch glare at me while I try to sleep, or waking me up in the middle of the night by creepily muttering who will die next and how it will happen, only for her to cackle into the remainder of the night. Most times she doesn't even tell me who will die, just how they will die in terrifying detail, leaving me worried for everyone's safety, including my own.

I've tried everything, priests from multiple religions, praying, charms from all over the world. I thought about even trying some wiccan shit, but that might just add to her power since she was a witch when she was alive. In the end, I've sort of just given up on being rid of her. The only thing I can hope for is that she'll listen to me when I try to talk to her. It hasn't worked at all since I started earlier this year. The first time I tried, she choked me until I was unconscious. When I came to, Aina was fist fighting the witch until she hissed at the both of us and vanished. It hasn't been that bad since, but she doesn't do much aside from ignore and torment me.

I've told multiple family members about Aina and Deirdre, yet nobody seems to believe me except Quinn. And never once has he teased me or called me a liar about it. And now that mom is gone, him and Aina are all that I have left. My family has completely shunned me, practically disowning me. They all blame me for the untimely deaths that have been plaguing our family the past 17 years, and half of the time, I really can't blame them. It seems to only have started once I was able to see the spirits, and yet it's not like I'm over here trying to get my family killed or picking which members I want dead. I don't want anyone dead. I just want it all to stop, the torture, the death, the anger. There's even been three different times my family has jumped me to try to end the cycle of madness, one that was so bad I ended up in the hospital for a week. It didn't work, and now I have to carry a knife on me at all times just in case, I even have one in the back pocket of my slacks right now.

"I'm sorry little one, but it was her time to move on. She's in a better place…" Aina's voice pops into my head. I look around and find her sitting on my bed, her face sorrowful compared to the usual composed smile she sports now and days. She won't even look me in the eye.

"I know Aina, it's not your fault either. Will you come with us today?" I ask, holding out my hand. She gives me a once over before nodding.

"Is she comin'?" Quinn asks from the front room. 

"Yeah!" I call back, heading back to where he's waiting with the car keys.

"Good, then come on. We don't got all day. If we wait any longer we'll be late," he says, nodding at the space next to me where Aina stands.

"Your brother is always so nice, he is just like you. I am surprised he was not gifted with sensitivity towards spirits, as you were," she notes as we head into the car. Quinn starts up the car and drives us over to the family church where we held my grandfather's funeral all those years ago, finding a small crowd hovering outside of the church door. After parking and heading over, we find our remaining first cousins waiting for us.

"You really are scum you couple of faggots! Not only did you kill my little girl, but you killed your own mother?! You don't deserve to be here!!!" Rory shouts, seething hatred so dark I can see the black aura surrounding him. I approach him slowly.

"Do you wanna try that again? 'Cus I think I heard you wrong," I ask calmly.

"I said you killed my little girl!!!!! My baby… You killed her you fuckin' freak!!! Why?! I know you hate me, but to take it out on her… You're nothing but a demon!!! You went as far as to even kill your own mother!!!" Rory spouts off. As I'm closer, I can smell the rotten stench of a months-long binger lingering on his skin and breath. His eyes are wild, as if he hasn't been sleeping, and around his eyes is a vibrant redness, no doubt from bawling his eyes out everyday for the past half of the year. I honestly feel a tinge of sadness looking at him, but this is also the same asshole who has tormented me for more than half of my life, who ganged up on me with a bunch of his friends, which resulted in multiple black eyes, a fractured femur, a broken elbow, a stab from a knife to my side, and four snapped fingers. So it's hard to feel too bad for him. Honestly I just feel bad for Caitlyn more than anything. He's right, she shouldn't have died, but it wasn't my doing.

"You're fuckin' pathetic Rory. Why don't you take that dick out of your ass and learn to live with the fact that your daughter is gone, instead of tryna blame us for somethin' we didn't do or want. Do you honestly think we would do anything to Caitlyn?!" Quinn retorts.

"I'm sure that if you'd had your way, you would've kidnapped her to rape her, or something else just as bad you fuckin' monsters!" Sean jumps in now, seething as well. I stick my hand in my pocket subtly, my anger beginning to show.

"You're probably right, woulda kept the poor thing in a dungeon somewhere like those stories you hear about on the news," Rowena sneers, hiding behind her brother.

"They're not wrong, are they?! ARE THEY?!! I'll kill you… I'LL KILL YOU!!!!" Rory screams and punches me hard across the chin. Before he can land another blow, I slide the knife out of my pocket, flick it open and jam the blade to the hilt inside of his hand, slowly turning it to open the wound wider. Rory cries out in pain, tears seeping from his eyes.

"Thanks for hittin' me first, I needed this to be in self-defense. And I just really needed to vent my anger today, so thank you Rory," I tell him as I push closer, until he falls to one knee in pain. Before he can recover, I twist the knife out of his hand and ram it down into the top of his right knee, grabbing a fistful of his hair so that he's looking directly into my eyes. "Now you listen to me, and you listen well, or I'll pop your goddamn kneecap off, you hear me?" He gives a sharp nod. "I didn't kill anybody. I've never killed anyone in my entire life, and I don't want to. I would never have hurt Caitlyn, and you, of all people, should know that you fuckin' bastard. Because even after all the torment you put me through, I never once held animosity towards her. And you dare say I would sexually abuse and kill her, ON TOP OF SAYIN' I KILLED MY OWN MOTHER?! THE ONLY ONE WHO WAS ALWAYS THERE FOR US?!?! You know what, just for that…"

"AAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!! AAAARG!!!" Rory screams out as I carve the blade in a semicircle, cutting through a good amount of cartilage and muscle sinew before withdrawing the blade, wiping it off on his shirt while he writhes on the ground in profound agony, clutching the wounds tight.

"JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!!!!!" Sean yells, grabbing Rory and rushing him to his car to hurry him off to the hospital.

"Jesus ain't here asshole," I chide.

"Fay's not in a very good mood today, I suggest that the rest of you leave unless you want him to turn his attention on you as well," Quinn responds. The remaining four cousins glare in disbelief but move aside.

"You're gonna burn in hell, demon," I hear Rowena spit as I walk by, but ignore her completely.

Aside from the fiasco outside, the rest of the service is peaceful. Shockingly, the rest of my cousins come inside still, aside from Sean and Rory, still in the E.R. no doubt. And even at the burial, there's no disturbances, from the living or Deirdre, who's been absent for a suspiciously long amount of time. And as usual, a herd of crows gather, cawing in remorse for me, as if attached to my emotions. They appear whenever I'm outside for more than five minutes now. It's annoying sometimes, but I love them as the crows were my only friends growing up. When the service is over, and our mother has been lain to rest, Quinn and I remain there. For the first time since we were kids, I see my brother cry. And just when I thought nothing else in the world could surprise me, three of my cousins approach us at the grave, helping along a hobbling Rory, now patched up. We tense up, ready to fight again if need be, but Rory just begins sobbing.

"I'm so sorry you guys… I know how much of a piece of shit I've been to you these past couple of years, and especially these last few months, but I really do understand now. We we're wrong about you Fay, and Quinn," he blubbers out, high off of pain medicine even though his words sound sincere. I give Quinn an unsure glance, and he gives me one right back.

"We're really sorry about everything we said before the funeral Fay. It wasn't right, in any type of way, and we realize that now," Rowena replies. The crows ruffle their feathers disapprovingly.

"Why?" Quinn questions.

"What do you mean?" Sean responds.

"Why are you only realizing it now? After all these years of hating us, you just, what, suddenly believe us? What made you change your mind?" He asks.

"I thought about what you said outside of the church, about your ma, and about my Caitlyn. You were right. You were one of the nicest people to her Fay. My wife said you'd always come over while I was at work, just to check up on her or give her a new toy or give us baby supplies, even after all that I've done to you. And If you were that nice to my Cait, then I know you would never hurt her, let alone kill her, or your own ma. She was the only one who stood up for you, aside from Quinn. I know now that you'd never do anything to hurt either one of them. I know I can't take back everything I've done, but I'd like to take back everything I've said," Rory announces, shocking us both. We remain silent, unsure of what to do or say. We're not exactly a hugging family.

"We're gonna have a private repass at our house later tonight, just the three of us. We were wondering if you'd like to come. Maybe we can kinda make up for lost time and reconnect a bit, like a real family for once," Rowena proposes, shifting uneasily.

"As surprising as this may be for you, it seems as if their intentions are sincere. Perhaps you should go, Fay. I do not sense any ill intent from any of them. It seems that as harsh as your words and actions were earlier, they were a necessary wake up call for this to be the result. Hopefully, now your family will resign their hatred for you and focus that anger towards the witch instead," Aina tells me, unnerving me even more. So, all I needed for my family to believe me was to stab them a few times? The fuck kind of shit is that?

"Sure, why not. I wouldn't mind gettin' drunk after today anyway. What time should we come over?" Quinn decides on his own as I give him a glowering stare. He shakes off my gaze and waits for them to answer.

"Around nine should be good, we still gotta clean up and get something to make at the store," Rowena tells us, managing a small smile this time.

"Okay, sounds good. I'll bring a bottle of Jameson," Quinn replies with a wide smile.

"Irish whiskey? You racist bastard!" Sean responds in a mocking posh voice. Everyone begins laughing, having a good ol' time reconnecting, except me. Something about this just doesn't seem right to me, plus it's hard to reconnect when you've never properly connected with a family that's despised you your whole fucking life. So all this, seems like a fake ass Brady Bunch moment in real life, so cheesy and fake I almost want to vomit at how stupid this all is. The crows share my distaste as some of them come and land on the floor around me, one landing on my shoulder. I give it a glance and it bows its head before nuzzling my cheek.

"Okay, see you in a bit," Rory says as he waves goodbye with the other two, the three hobbling back to the parking lot.

"What the fuck Quinn? You don't think this is weird?!" I question accusingly, pissed the fuck off at my brother for the first time in years.

"No, not really. I would say that you stabbin' him earlier was weird honestly. Maybe when you snapped it was like a wake up call for them."

"No the fuck it wasn't! They've hated me since before I was a 'cursed', remember?! Back when I was just the normal outcast?!" I retort.

"What I think, little brother, is that this is your one chance to actually have a family again, someone aside from just me. 'Cuz, lets face it, who knows when the witch plans on makin' me kick the bucket. If there's any chance of us bein' able to have a family again, I'd actually like that. And I think you would too, if you even remember what that was like before everyone turned on us. Now, if you don't wanna come later, that's fine, but I'm still goin'," Quinn explains as he begins walking to the car.

"You're not goin' alone. What if it's a trap? I'm goin', just don't expect me to have fun or be nice,'' I respond begrudgingly as the crows disperse. It takes a minute longer, but the juvenile one on my shoulder takes off too, landing near the car, watching me intently. 

Plus, I don't want to stay in our house all by myself tonight. It'd rather be uncomfortable and around people, than be scared and alone at this point. I've had too many run-ins with Dierdre while I'm alone.

And I can't shake the feeling that something bad is going to happen… Like I get most nights when the Witch claims a member of our family.

Someone is going to die tonight…