Through A Glass Darkly

    by Corrie McKinnon

Chapter One

"For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known." ­

- 1 Corinthians 13:12

***

It was dark.

Dark and cold, wherever she was.

She reached for...something. Grasping only at empty air, she stood, trembling.

She shivered. Icy tendrils of fear inched their way up her spine, lingering at its base.

Silence. A vast, yet empty, silence.

Then, a scream. The hair at the nape of her neck rose.

The scream came again; this time, other moans and wails accompanied it.

She squeezed her eyes shut, clamping her hands over her ears. "Stop it!" She begged. "Please, leave me alone!"

The cacophony of sounds did not cease. It became more difficult to tell when one sound ended and another began. They seemed to blend.

Whispers taunted her. "...destruction lay waste...know...child shall lead..."

"No..." she moaned. Why wouldn't they stop?

As if they heard her, the voices came again with a vengeance. "...darkness over the land...chosen..."

She couldn't take anymore. "STOP!"

Time itself seemed to freeze. Then, there was a blinding flash of light! She blinked and cautiously looked around. Where was she? This place brought no feelings of terror and despair like the last. She seemed to be standing on a riverbank. The water below was a dazzling shade of blue and just looking at it made her long for a taste.

Suddenly, she tensed. There was someone else here! She glanced nervously around, taking a step back.

Her foot collided with something warm. Something...alive! Screaming, she leapt forward, whirling around to face whatever it was.

It was a person. A man. She couldn't make out much more. His back was facing her.

Just as she was about to demand his identity, he turned abruptly. Her eyes widened and she gasped.

"J-James?" She stammered. No! Her mind raced, trying to find a logical explanation. Impossible, he's dead!

Her husband merely gazed at her unemotionally. They stared at each other. It could have been hours or minutes that went by. Without warning, his hand raised and a finger pointed accusingly at her, and he whispered in a wraithlike voice:

"The reaper cometh for thee."

The image before her shattered and glass rained down, slicing into her painfully. She felt herself falling...falling...

* * *

"Mom! Mom, wake up!"

Shelby Bryant jerked awake, heart pounding. Her son stared at her anxiously from his perch on the end of the bed.

"Did you have another nightmare 'bout Dad?" He questioned.

She grimaced. It was never her intention that Connor know about the dreams, but for an eight-year-old, he was pretty hard to fool. Who am I kidding? More like impossible to fool, she corrected herself.

"Yes," she finally allowed. "But I'm all right." She made an effort to smile, but it must not have worked because he simply stared back solemnly. Her heart wept for the man her little boy had to become at such a tender age. Already his sky blue eyes spoke of a life wrought with hardship.

Connor shifted awkwardly. "Well...I guess I'll go get ready for school. You didn't wake me up hours before my alarm this time."

Shelby winced at the reminder of last night's dream. "I'll go make breakfast. Let's see if we can't get you to school on time today, hmm?"

"'Kay." He bounded into his room and slammed the door behind him.

She rolled her eyes, but her smile belied the action. Boys. Groaning, she sat up. Her body demanded more sleep but she was determined to start the day on time.

Shelby yawned as she ambled into the miserable excuse for a kitchen, and grabbed for the box of Cheerios on the counter. It wasn't exactly a breakfast to start your day on, but it was cheap, and with her salary...She shook off those dreary thoughts.

"Connor! Hurry up, or you'll be late again," she called.

"Coming!"

Sighing, she gazed morosely out the window above the sink. They lived in the slums of Peculiar, Missouri, in a shabby, run-down apartment complex, getting by with money Shelby had saved pre-James. She swallowed hard, blinking back sudden tears. It had happened only five months ago. His death had been unexpected. Then again, what death wasn't? He had been driving home on his last day of work before the Christmas break. He had come upon a sharp corner and couldn't see the patch of ice. By the time he spotted the danger, and applied the brakes, it was too late. He spun out of control, and hit another vehicle head-on. The next week passed in a blur. The passengers in the other car felt vindictive and sued. They hired lawyers to deceive the court by saying James had caused the accident. No other witnesses had been on the road that night, how could anyone prove otherwise? Shelby's attorneys were no match for theirs. They got every penny that had been in James Bryant's name, leaving his family, not destitute, but near it. They had never really been rich, but they were by no means poor. They were simply well off. Now…well.

Shelby smiled sadly. Now we're living in a hole in the wall with hardly any money to speak of. Still lost in memories, she poured milk in the cereal.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of her son.

Connor scowled when he saw her. "Mo-om!" He complained. "Why'd you tell me to hurry when you're not even dressed yet?"

She blinked and looked down at herself. Swearing under her breath, she eyed the clock. 8:06. "Connor, there's a sandwich I made yesterday in the 'fridge. Pack it in your lunch box with a Capri Sun while I get dressed. Then put on your shoes and I'll walk you to the bus stop. We will be on time."

He immediately moved to obey. She smiled faintly. He was such a good kid. A loud honk from outside caused her to jump. She sighed irritably. Oh, this will be a fun day. Only eight-fifteen and I'm already jumpy. Must be PMS.

***

Shelby eyed herself in the mirror critically. Not bad for a twenty-nine year old woman. Glancing at the clock she smirked. It was only eight-twenty. They were going to be on time. She slipped on her trainers and grabbed her purse.

"Let's go Connor!"

She checked herself one last time in the hall mirror. A pretty brown-haired, green-eyed woman stared back. Shelby was surprised at the weight she'd lost. She looked like those anorexic teenagers on TV. Her eyes were hollow and dull; even her hair hung lifeless at her shoulders.

"Mom? Are you okay?"

Mother and son locked eyes. Shelby was the first to drop her gaze. Coward, her conscience mocked her.

"I'm fine honey," she lied. "Ready to go?"

He looked at her suspiciously, but nodded.

"Right then," she said, attempting a cheerful tone. "We're off."

Shelby locked the door to apartment 14B and walked to the end of the sidewalk where the bus stop was. Connor was abnormally silent. Probably picking up on my good mood, she thought wryly.

"Connor," she said suddenly, "why don't I pick you up from school today and we'll go see the new Lord of the Rings movie? I know you've been wanting to see it."

He perked up. "Really?" He cried excitedly. Movies were a rare, if ever, treat for them nowadays.

She shrugged. "Why not? We need some time together outside of the house."

He punched the air victoriously. "Awesome! I've heard the special effects are really cool. Plus, there's this part where they have to…" He prattled on but Shelby only half listened. She was remembering days curled up on the window seat in the attic of her parent's house, reading about J.R.R. Tolkien's enchanting world.

If only such a place existed, she thought wistfully. Connor and I would live there and wouldn't have to worry about our problems anymore. If only...She shivered. The wind had turned chilly.

***

In an alley, something observed the woman and child. It peered down at words written on a piece of parchment in a long-dead language, and looked at the humans again. When it spoke, the wind itself seemed to recoil in revulsion and fear. "So. It begins."

The creature retreated into the shadows and waved his arm. His form dissipated until it was as if he was never there. The parchment drifted to the ground. Although virtually unknown, the writing could have been dismissed as merely gibberish. Except for the fact that it was written in blood.

To be continued...

My first LotR composition. You like? Review and tell me (or email me). Also, depending on my schedule, I will probably update every Tuesday.