Burning Eyes

“Hey there kid, how’re you holding up?”, I say, just as some simple courtesy.

“Better than before”, he says, matter of factly. He was looking away before I spoke up but now he’s making eye contact, his dark blue eyes looking at mine, which should make things easier for me.

“Alright, good to know… I know this may be tough on you but… I want you to tell me what happened that night, think you can do it?”, I said softly. I thought I handled that tactfully enough for a boy his age.

“You know… you don’t need to treat me like I’m going to cry if you push me too hard. I understand I’m a bit young but I’ll be fine. Just ask whatever you want from me, but please, don’t talk down to me, despite my age”

“You’re uh… very well spoken for someone your size. The records did say you were unexpectedly mature so I shouldn’t be too surprised, still I guess I’m not here to ask about that.” I wait a moment to see if he responds, it seems he’s just waiting for me to continue… he hasn’t broken eye contact with me at all the entire time… I decide to just continue talking, “Before telling me what happened I just need you to state your full name, age, and occupation... well you’re too young to have a job, Just your name and age then.”

“My name is Charis Retsa and I’m 12 years old, anything else or can I start talking already?” He seemed to be bored of this already, I didn't think the kid would be so eager to retell his trauma. I give him a small nod and he starts talking.

“It was around 2 am at my household, everyone but me was asleep at the time, which is out of pure luck really, I’m usually not the type to sleep late but I had been waiting for the release of a video for a while now, so I just had to stay up that night. I was locked up in my room for the night so I didn’t even notice when my stepfather and siblings got here, which I assume happened around 12 in the morning. I think my stepfather wanted to surprise my mother by arriving early.”

He’s explaining everything without displaying any hint of emotion, which is odd. Before I can say anything about it though he continues talking. “I had just finished watching the video when I spotted Brann Abidda through the window”, he stopped talking, as if he knew I had something to ask him about.

“Did you know who he was at the time? It was pretty dark so it’d be hard to know who was there, plus it’s not like he’s a very well known person.”“Yeah I knew, I’ve always been into those crime documentaries and whatnot, he was an arsonist, burnt down his ex-boss’s home among other revenge burnings, exactly three and a half dozen people died from these, only a couple of which were his actual targets. He was jailed a couple years back, but got broken out of prison about a day before I met him up close, that’s what I knew about him. As to how I recognized him, he was a 7 foot tall demon of a man, not too many people fit that criteria, especially no one that actually lives around here.

He seems to know his stuff, though he's a bit odd that’s for sure, he seems to be going along with this relatively easily, most adults speak far less clearly than he does retelling events like this, he’s not holding back any tears or struggling through saying it at all, at most I can compare him to a student doing a presentation. I’m starting to dislike looking at his eyes, he still hasn’t looked away or even blinked yet, maybe he’s blinking when I look away. Anyways, I don’t have anything to ask him yet. “Just continue.”

“You took your time to respond to that, well, moving on, I spotted him outside and I considered him to be a threat, so I grabbed my knife, yes the one you found covered in his blood, I opened the window, jumped outside and confronted him. As expected it didn’t really go well, there was a little fight, he’s a grown man and I’m a child but I managed to land a lucky strike, stabbing his neck, after that he was done for, in his last moments however, he managed to lit up a small flame to the front yard, the fire then spread into my home, burning down everyone in it. Soon after that the police showed up. That’s everything.”

It’s hard for me to accept that they’re just 12, he doesn’t act like a 12 year old in any way, he speaks with the intonation and knowledge of a politician giving a speech they prepared for, all of this seems so rehearsed. Am I wrong for feeling something about this is off? “You… confronted him? Why would you do that if you knew who they were?”

“I already said all I’m legally required to say to you. Nothing is stopping me from just leaving at this point.” He’s completely right, still, why is he not answering that question? Is he hiding something or am I the weird one? His eyes are still staring into me with that same look he’s had since the start. I can feel him examining me, I wish he’d look away for once.

“If you can leave, why haven’t you then? Is it fine if I ask about other things then?”

“Yeah go ahead, I’ve been wanting to get to this part,” he says, in a sincere tone.

“Alright, how was your relationship with your family?”

“You’re asking if I had a rough childhood then? I wouldn’t describe it as a perfect one, especially due to my mother, she’s… eccentric to say the least.” His voice seems ever so slightly agitated, “My stepfather was a nice man, definitely my favorite person at home. I had two younger siblings, a brother and a sister, both of them looked up to me somewhat and they were friendly enough to me, though they were somewhat mischievous… still I suppose that doesn’t matter now, seeing as they’re all burnt to a crisp and whatnot.

I don’t know how to feel about the overwhelming casualty of that last statement, he does seem upset, just not in the way a grieving child whose entire family just died would feel but more in the way you’d feel if you lost a 100$ bill, it’s kind of infuriating… but maybe he’s just dealing with grief in his own way. “You described your own mother as being odd, care to say more?”

“Odd would be undercutting it to be honest, she was very particular in how she acted. She didn’t do much at all, all things considered. Lazy and apathetic, she’d stay at home every day, she never read a book, or used the internet or any such thing. She didn’t like windows either. I don’t think she ever got an education or anything of the sort either, though that’s less her fault. Her culinary abilities started and ended at things children are capable of. I used to eat my fair share of burnt bread… though that likely was on purpose.

That’s… concerning, “On purpose? What kind of mother was she to you?”

She wasn’t very motherly to me all things considered, Theo, my stepfather was the one who actually took care of me. She was quite fond of her other two children but never of me, I remember her eyes staring into me with a look of hatred, a strong pure burning hatred, “If she’d ever check on me it would be to “test my development”, it was unclear what she was looking for in me really and I don’t think it matters much.

This just seems to be getting worse and worse, hatred… “If you don’t mind answering, did your mother ever… do anything bad to you.”

“Apart from large amounts of child neglect and often attempts at psychological abuse she didn’t do much. Although… I do remember, sometimes, late at night I would suddenly wake up and feel her “presence”,  can’t fully explain it and she never did anything but the older I got the more often it happened, truth be told, it terrified me.

First time he’s shown vulnerability so far, his voice felt just slightly more frail than usual. With how he talks I guess I forgot that he’s still pretty young. “That sounds horrible, do you have any idea why your mom acted like that?”

“Apart from being a horrible excuse for a living being I believe the hate and any strange behaviors might have originated due to my father, the biological one.”

First time he’s brought his father up, maybe it’s worth asking more about this. “Yes, your father, what happened between him and your mother?”

“I never met my father and mother never quite talked about him. I do know based on some arguments I overheard between her and Theo that I do remind her of him, which is quite an immature reason to despise your own child but I digress. He's an unsolved mystery in my life, though not one I care much for solving, Regardless, my origin doesn’t matter much, do you have any other questions? I’m willing to go back to the events prior if you wish.” Coming back to what happened before, I just have one question.

“So you said the fire started in the front yard, wouldn’t that have given you enough time to put it out or tell your family or do anything else apart from just being there. You said it was a small flame yourself before it spread.”

“Blaming the victim now? I won’t lie, it was a small fire, I probably could have put it out easily had I tried, I could have stepped on it early on and none of this would have happened. That’s something that I somewhat regret not doing, but we live in the present and what’s happened has happened.” What is he on about, he’s speaking about the death of his family like it’s nothing important.

“What’s happened has happened!? How can you say that!?” He stays still, looking mildly annoyed at my comment, he seems to be waiting on me to continue. I calm down and respond. “Fine, that’s not what matters now anyways, can you tell me why you didn’t put out the fire at least?”

“I think you’re overthinking this, I had just ended a life, my first ever life, regardless of how bad a person Brann was, that still struck me. To be honest I expected killing to feel good somehow, but after ending their life I just felt empty, maybe even guilty about it. Seeing the fire I just stared at it, fighting with myself whether to just observe or stop it, a brief moment that felt like an eternity. My mind was on my mother, as I said before I didn’t know anyone else was around at the time. I wanted to stop the fire but the thought of her kept me, I didn’t want to go back to her, so I just let the fire spread. And now here I am. Perhaps you’re right about me  but ever since then I haven’t been feeling much, it’s slowly coming back to me however. Still, I’d say I’m glad I luckily managed to spot Brann that night.”

“Luckily? What do you mean by luckily, if you hadn’t spotted him none of this would have happened, they’d all be alive... you dodged this question earlier but why exactly did you go out after him, what reason could you possibly have? ”See, that's the thi-", for the first time since the conversation started, he blinks. “Oh… well, I suppose that’s all the time I have, wish you the best. I'll be seeing you again.” And with that said he stands up and leaves, I try to call out for him but he seems to completely ignore me as he silently leaves the room.