Now some of this is fiction and some non-fiction, I'll let you decide what's what. |
I don't remember to much of my child hood. It all seems like a blur. When I was growing up I got blamed for a lot of things, and I accepted this. I was the runt of the family, and I felt that if I accepted this, in end time it will all go away. Let's start with a recent time, and go back from there. I was sitting with my uncle. Talking about things that just have no reason to happen, but just happen. He made a comment about he knows of an eight year old that will never get older than eight. I think he was talking about his son, and this was many years after the fact. When he said this I always have a flash back about a wood pile full of broken down crates. Broken down for a bond fire, tossed in a pile at least six feet tall. I was about six at this time. With this pile at my mom's house I climbed it all the time. Now think about it, it was kinda dumb. Then again I did a lot of dumb thing like playing hide-n-seek in the trunk of a car, or waiting for mom to take me to grandma's in the hot car. At least I left the door open so I wouldn't suffocate. But I didn't know better. My uncle had three kids, Two sons and a daughter. I could only think of the two kids he has. The third was blur to me. I don't know why I want to black out the third child. It all started that day, it was a warm day in the summer. My uncle came over with his three kids. And being kids we played with things that we shouldn't have. I think we where playing hide and seek. I got board and I just want play on that old wood pile. Now here's where it gets fuzzy. Something happened. The pile shifted, was it like that when I got to it or did it happen when I was on it, I don't know. Everything after that was blacked out and placed with a new memory. Later I found out my cousin had died to a nail to his heart. His death was almost instant. He was hiding in that wood pile, that I climbed on that damn day. Perhaps he was already dead when I got on that wood pile, I will never know. My brother ratted me out, I didn't know what was going on. It seemed everyone from that point on looked at me differently. I felt like the an omen. And what price did I have to pay to not be an omen. Was it at the cost of my first born son? It sends chills in me, am I to blame for my cousin's death, and the one of my son's? Had I agree to sell that soul of my first born in order to end the contract that I had with the devil? I may never know. But know this even when I go under a different name. My name is Kane! ~Len E. Kane *This is a rough draft, please review and rate. I will change a few thing when needed. |