Your Demons

Rust Bank Catholic

An older Kat sat in the back of a van, wearing a black and gray jumpsuit with chains around her waist.

"With my folks dead, the next five years were hell."

It was snowing outside, the car approaching the same bridge from five years ago.

"Yeah, I got into a little trouble. Okay, a lot of trouble." 

Kat looked up finally, almost falling asleep under her hood.

"But at 13, I got a do-over at this fancy girls' school, RBC. Only problem…"

Kat moved over, looking out the front mirror before gasping as she realized where they were.

"It was back in Rust Bank."

Kat followed as she saw caution tape and signs lining where she and her parents went off the bridge.

She got out her seat, looking at it wide eyed.

She started breathing heavily, stumbling back into her seat as she pulled her hood over her head.

The driver looked at her worried before slowing the car to a stop at the side of the road.

"You okay, Kat?" She asked her. "What?" Kat asked. "The bridge. You had a panic attack." The woman said.

"I'm fine, Ms. Hunter." Kat stated, the woman sighing at her words.

Kat turned back around, putting her back to the woman before gasping as she saw a burnt up building.

Her dad's brewery.

What once was a lively building, line with lights and laughter was now just charcoal and ash.

"Dad's brewery. When did it burn down?" Kat asked Ms. Hunter. "It was at your parents' memorial." Ms. Hunter told her.

"What?" Kat asked. "You were already in the group home upstate. You didn't need more bad news." Ms. Hunter explained.

"Was anyone hurt?" Kat asked, Ms. Hunter started up the car again.

"It was bad."

The car rolled, Kat slowly watching as the brewery left her sight.

"Home definitely wasn't what it used to be."

They drove through Kats old town, everything abandoned and boarded up.

"Seems that brewery fire had a domino effect, and the whole town had died." 

Kat passed the old movie theater, seeing a sign saying "Property of Klax Korp."

"What's this Klax Korp?" Kat asked, Ms. Hunter not answering as they passed through the old neighborhood.

"My old house!" Kat exclaimed, seeing the tire swing her father once pushed her on as her mother watched.

"Good memories…they can hurt the most."

Kat watched sadly as she saw there were signs all over her house, the tree dead and everything broken and snowed over.

"But it wasn't just a do-over. Something else up at that school was pulling me back. Something that knew what I was, before I did."

Ms. Hunter then began driving uphill, Kat looking and seeing the giant school at the top of the hill.

At the school a boy was in the tower, making art for his mother, which his friend was dying to see.