All of Us Are Going to Hell

FOURTEEN

16 Minutes Since the Arrival of Satan, 53 Minutes into the End of the World
 
The problems humans face never really change, because mortals bring their own baggage with them.
THE TRIALS OF APOLLO, RICK RIORDAN
   
It was my idea, so it was only fair that I started first.

    Six of us sit in a circle on the floor in the living room. The Persian rug feels nice under my feet. One person faces another and whenever I look up, I see Hadassah's
almond eyes that seem so innocent, so pure.

   After this, she would know the truth I never told her and the lies that came so easily. How was it so easy for me to shroud myself in deceit after hurting someone, after destroying his life?

   Right now, the Devil wasn't the real monster in our lives. I want to know what they all did, but I don't think any of them would see me the same way after I tell them what really happened last year.

    The truth. It was all I had to make up for it now.

    I grab the first thing I see: a golden tong. It feels pretty heavy and some part of me knows its actual gold. The McCannon family will never cease to surprise me at this point. I hold up the tong and speak:

    “This is the Talking Tong.”

    “The Talking Tong?” Mark asks with another mirthless, annoying laugh. Iris slaps him in the shoulder and glares. He stops talking and I fight to hide my smile under a fist.

    I nod to Iris with a thank you smile.

    She nods back. I guess Iris isn't as bad as we all thought. Then again, one act of defence and thoughtfulness doesn't cancel out all the lives she ruined.

     And I'm positive that's not the only thing taking her to Hell.

    “When you have the Tong,” I say to them, “you're the only one who speaks. No one else says anything or interrupts—” Insert glance at Mark here — “Everyone waits until you're done and you pass it on to the next person. Do we all agree on that?”

    Everyone nods. Even Mark, hesitantly, after a glare from Iris.

    “Alright,” Elijah says, becoming cross legged. “Let's get the shit over with so we don't have to sit on the floor anymore. Who's going first?”

    I hesitate. My throat closes. I almost don't speak.

    The truth, Jabari.

    “I am,” I say, raising the Tong. It glints under the billion lights in the room and from the crystal of the topaz chandelier—the biggest in the house. “I want to tell you guys what I did.”

    Hadassah fixates a look on my face like she can't believe it. I can't believe it.

    But I have to speak.

    And I have to speak now.

    “Last year,” I say.

    “I have a feeling I know what this is,” Lilith says, clasping her hands between her legs.

    “So do I," Iris agrees. Of course she would know. They all would, because it was anyone could talk about in July.

    “Do you guys remember when we got to school one morning,” I start, eyes focused on no one, at the sconces, at the vaulted ceiling, “and...and the pages of Aaron's journal was all over the walls of the third stairwell—the abandoned one?”

    I can hear their agreement.

    “Holy shit, wait—” And I force it out.

    “It was me,” I whisper. “I did it.”

So...Jabari?! Boy, what did you do?
Vote first, then find out, I guess.