A Million Blessings

In the year 2014, my father found a job offering in the far-off state of Arizona. They were offering such a great sum of money that my mother and father swept up our family of four from our home in West Virginia, where my older brother and I had lived all our lives, to move to Relic End. It was a nice enough neighborhood. There was a park with a colorful assortment of playground structures to climb and an ice cream store further down the road that we become regulars at. The school my brother and I attended had wonderfully funded programs with plenty of friendly students for us to become acquainted with over the years. All and all you would assume that Relic End would be a picturesque place to spend one’s younger years and you would be correct, that is without one small detail. Every night, as the clock strikes midnight, something makes its way down the street by every house, starting at the street sign marking the start of Relic End down the street to the point where the pavement disintegrates into the woods beyond. With this phenomenon came one rule that was followed without question throughout the street: be in your home with the blinds shut and doors locked no later than 11:59. Because the moment the clock changes to 12:00 that creature will begin its trek to the woods or to whatever its goal is that resides at the end of the street. It will creep its way down the road dragging its limbs against the asphalt, groaning and wheezing in a grotesque manner that ensures me that this thing is not from this world.
When my family first moved to Relic End we were quickly informed of the strange nature of the neighborhood. The prospect terrified my brother and me even before the sunset while it unsettled my parents. Our first night in our new home I found myself unable to sleep due to what I had been told earlier in the day. I had no idea how my brother could be passed out on his sheetless mattress–one of the moving trucks had lost its way in Oklahoma according to my dad’s frustrated phone calls. Meanwhile, I was afraid to even shut my eyes. I crept out of my room at the late hour to find my dad hunched over a bowl of cereal. He was quick to hold me in his arms, still shoveling Cinnamon Toast Crunch into his mouth. One of the few pieces of furniture we did have at that time was my grandmother’s great grandfather clock and as the clock struck twelve like some cliche horror movie my father and I both heard it. Horrible, haggard, breathing coming from outside the house, opposite from the window we watched moonlight flow through now. We heard it make its way down the street, coming closer and closer to the window we faced looking out onto our front yard and the road beyond. Just before it reached our field of view I think my father sensed it, I sensed it too. A sinister presence, something so unspeakable evil that the human psyche would shatter at the mere sight of it. At that moment my father covered my eyes with his hand and whispered in a shaky voice “don’t look, Carrie, please don’t look”. I heard something then that scared me much more than that horrible presence. My father was afraid, I could hear it in his tone. My 6 ‘3 father, a veteran football player, was scared. Then as soon as it appeared it was gone, the breathing, the dragging of the limbs, and my father’s hand over my eyes.
The following day my father disappeared early in the morning and returned in the afternoon with burgers and a vast array of locks and heavy shutters. He spent the rest of that day installing them until every window had heavy blinds with complementary locks on them. I appreciated how thorough he was. You may wonder why on Earth would anyone want to share a neighborhood with such a thing and for that there is a strange answer. Relic End is blessed as my neighbor Ms.Marina would say. Strange, unexplainable miracles seem to plague the residents of this place. When this was told to my family those many years ago my brother and I believed it immediately, being just 13 and 9 at the time. My mother was open to the idea as well as she came from a family that was always open to the prospect of forces outside our control. My father on the other hand did not grasp the idea as well. He thought such a concept was the stuff of fairytales and while he was correct in that the creature that broods in the night was of similar fictional quality and my father had been presented with unwavering proof of that. He was presented with undeniable proof when my mother became incredibly sick a year following our arrival in Relic End. Doctors couldn’t explain it, some sort of mystery disease. We watched as she slowly deteriorated, growing weaker and frailer by the day. Until one fateful day, she began to get better. Within a matter of days, she was back to her healthy state she was in many months prior. The doctors couldn’t explain it, it was nothing short of a miracle they said. With that my dad knew, we all knew this was nothing random. It was Relic End and its many blessings.
The years passed and Relic End saw many people come and go. Some for other opportunities similar to ours while others simply couldn’t stand to share the same space as such an eldritch creature. Strangely, I had become used to the presence at night. I think it was the knowledge that in some way that thing had saved my mother. However, I did wonder from time to time many questions I believe were completely fair considering my family’s bizarre situation. How did the miracles work exactly? What does the creature–I never cared enough to actually dare to look at such a thing of course–look like? Most of all, what would happen if you were outside your home at midnight? I would receive the most awful answer to that final question.
In 2019 a new family moved into Relic End. This was especially exciting for me and my brother because they had a child, a boy of similar age to our own named Michael. Unfortunately, he ended up being quite the trouble maker, always having to go to the principal’s office and staying late after class to discuss his behavior. My brother and I were always more behaved so we did not often find ourselves in his company. However, we found him in our care one fateful night in November. His parents were on a trip to Nevada, family stuff my dad said, apparently they did not see it necessary to bring him along. While my brother and I were not close with Michael our parents were close with his so upon hearing of their incursion they offered to care for Michael for the duration of their absence. The first night he was with us just so happened to be a Friday so despite our previous lack of interest in Michael we were excited to have an additional viewer for our movie night. Unfortunately, it quickly became clear that Frozen was the last thing on Michael’s mind. “Have you ever seen it? I’ve asked a lot of kids and they all seem to say no, what a bunch of babies! Do you think it’s big? By those sounds it makes it has to be at least eight feet tall!” He continued on and on, asking questions me and my brother did not even want to think about. “Can’t we just watch the movie?” my brother groaned. “Ugh, this movie is for kids!” Michael rebutted. “Well, we are kids after all” I replied, annoyed at his intrusion into Elsa’s ballad Let it Go. This back and forth continued for an hour until Michael slithered away to the bathroom, seemingly defeated. He returned with a smirk that made me uncomfortable but at least he was quiet now.
The clock on the oven glowed a dark red showing the time to be 11:55. I was filling up a glass of water from the kitchen sink when I heard my brother exclaim in shock. “Put it back!” he yelled at Michael. I made my way back to the living room to see what the fuss was about. Michael had his fist up in the air but as I neared closer I realized he was grasping something between his knuckles: a key. My parents had plans early tomorrow morning that found them in bed at an early hour tonight. Apparently, Michael had snuck into their bedroom when he went to the restroom earlier and stolen the key to the many locks my dad had placed on the windows and doors of the house. “Oh come on don’t lie to me and tell me you aren’t the least bit curious?” he said. I had to admit I was curious but I had felt that thing’s presence from afar and I never wanted to feel it any closer than that. “Come on just one little peak” he suggested. “No, our parents and your parents have never let us see it for a reason!” my brother exclaimed. Michael took in my brother’s stern face and my fearful one. “Oh alright” and with that he offered the key to my brother’s outstretched hand. Right as my brother was about to grasp the key Micheal pushed him aside and rushed for the door. “Michael, please, don’t!” I shrieked. I saw him shove the key into the hole twisting it with a satisfying “click” just as the clock began to ring with the sound of midnight. He thrust open the door and rushed outside just as my brother grabbed for his shirt. Micheal stood triumphant on our front lawn, fists punching the air in victory. Then it came just like it always does, the disgusting breathing, the dragging sound, and now, with the open door, a horrible scent like death. I watched in horror as Micheal turned his gaze from us to the street sign, far to the right. Because of the blazing full moon’s light, I could see the side of Michael’s face even in the darkness. While I could only make out half of his face, I was easily able to make out his expression: absolute, pure terror. Michael let out a blood-curdling scream that made my hair stand on end. Then in a moment I now understand was an act of desire to save me, my brother lunged for the door, slamming it shut, leaving Micheal out in the cool night to face that horrid being. Even with the massive reinforced door, I could still hear Michael’s scream. My brother held me then as I cried because I somehow knew what would follow, we both did. Looking back I think it only took a second, a single moment that will forever be seared into my mind. That thing stopped its horrible sounds just for a moment before letting out a shriek from another world, a horrible sound that the human vocal cords would never be able to fathom. One thing was disgustingly clear, however. Joy, it was a scream of joy. I deafening woosh followed, seemingly the creature moving at a speed unheard of. Then it stopped. The screaming, from either side, was silenced. My brother and I both knew what that meant: Micheal was dead or at the very least gone, gone from this place, this horrid street known as Relic End. This was it, this was the cost. A million blessings for one horrible curse.