Chapter Four Page Two, Asta, The Forest

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At this moment, Neil was at the hospital, with Mary and Dani, and David was still out, searching for the goon that had wounded his friend. A girl named Elys was discovering she’d falling victim to unfortunate circumstance.
A young man named Robb was dealing with the direction his life had taken, dealing as poorly as Elys was recovering, a bottle of whiskey on his desk and a glass before him. A being that was not human was securing an item for someone she called mother.

Asta somehow knew these things, but did not know why. She’d been given knowledge of these people the past few years. She did not know for sure the name of the girl, or of the young man, or of the girl who was not human. But Asta was trying to tune them out.

The girl in the forest turned and began to walk away, and so Asta called out to her, “Hey! Where are you going?”

The girl in the black jacket continued into the woods, and when Asta began to ran, the girl did too. Asta knew the woods, having spent time there in her childhood.

The girl picked a path, and Asta picked a quicker one. Asta managed to cut her off, leaping down the side of a ledge that only appeared to be too high to leap from. The girl stopped, almost turned, and then smiled. “Hello, Asta,” she said. She had a thin, pale face, with brown eyes so dark they appeared black. Her hair was a similar color. Her voice was soft. It made Asta think of a violin.

“Hello,” Asta said, catching her breath. “I don’t know your name.”

“You do not,” the girl said, “Friday is the name I was given at birth.”

“Ok, Friday,” Asta said, “Why… why did you message me?”

“I wanted to see if you’d come,” Friday said, “And you did.”

Asta felt some fear but swallowed it down.

“Are you curious as to why I wanted to see if you’d come?”

Asta nodded.

“I was curious, because you are not like the others in your family,” Friday said, “Not like the others in this town.”

“I’m sick,” Asta said, “I’m a schizophrenic.”

            “Schizophrenia isn’t what explains your behavior,” Friday said, “How well do their treatments work?”

            “The medication?” Asta wasn’t aware of anything else they’d done that might be called treatment.

            Friday nodded.

            “It doesn’t do anything but make me feel… less… of everything,” she said, “And sometimes, it gives me…” She held up her hand to show that it was shaking.

            “But you still feel things that you aren’t supposed to feel,” Friday said.

            “Yeah,” Asta nodded, “Except how am I supposed to know I’m not hallucinating you?” The young man had asked that question to an apparition he’d seen that night, and unfortunately, the apparition had been his dead mother, and so she’d not been able to prove that she existed and so vanished. Asta had heard him ask his dead mother that, and so Asta asked this of the being she wasn’t sure existed.

            “You can’t know for sure,” Friday said, “But you may still come with me.”

            “I don’t think I should,” Asta said, “Even if you are real.”

            “You don’t trust me?”

            “Yeah,” Asta said, “Sorry.”

            “I will come back again,” Friday said, “When you are more cooperative.” Although Asta expected her to, Friday did not turn away and begin walking. They stood facing each other in the dark of the forest, with only stars overhead and the palest suggestion of a moon behind clouds that promised rain.

            “Am I supposed to go with you?” Asta asked.

            “What do you mean by supposed to? Do you believe in fate? That there are gods above who have decreed that you follow me tonight?”

            “Maybe,” Asta said, “I don’t know.”

            “I do know that there are gods,” Friday said, “But they are apathetic to the coming plight.”

            “How do you know that?” Asta said.

            “The same way you know that there are three at a hospital right now,” Friday said, “The same way you know that Rob is debating, as he does on Friday nights, to kill himself.”

            “I wish he didn’t,” Asta said, “It’s so sad and I can’t ever fall asleep when he gets like this.”

            “I can teach you how to be more selective,” Friday said, “or even how to be less selective. You don’t know it, but the reason you can feel those that you feel is because you are connected to all of them, at some point in the past you changed them, or they changed you, in a meaningful way. Others will join them as you change more lives, or as they change yours. You might want to find a way to stop hearing of their lives. Too many of them and who knows, maybe you really will go crazy.”

            Friday knew that Asta feared insanity more than anything else. It was the reason Asta visited the psychiatrist so much and why Asta never forgot to take her medications. “Will I?” Asta asked.

            “Yes, as I almost did, and as my brother did, and as our father did,” Friday said, “But now is not the time. I knew it wasn’t. I came here only to prepare you for the time that you would be ready. When that time comes you will know it. Before you come with me, a man must die, a role must be inherited, and the end of the world must occur.”


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