My pleas were lost in the noise of people accusing me of stealing their heritage and being too big for my britches. I had missed my opportunity to claim ignorance of Mom’s plan. If I had objected right away, maybe they would have believed that it wasn’t my idea in the first place. Even Dad looked at me like I had betrayed him. Nobody could hear me begging them to believe that I was innocent, and I’m not sure it would have mattered if they did. In the matter of a second, Mom was no longer the target of their anger. It was all coming down on me.
Crying, I ran for the kitchen so I could escape through the back door.
It was locked, of course, and nothing I could do would budge it. My relatives were following me, shouting their way towards the kitchen. I didn’t know what they would do when they caught me. I was starting to suspect that they didn’t know either. They had turned into a mob, and I realized how true it is that a mob has a mind of its own. Rationality was gone. These people wanted a target for their frustration and anger. That target was me.
I tried one window and then the other.
They were frozen in their frames.
I picked up a chair, meaning to crash it through the glass and Jackie came through the doorway with her finger raised to point at me.
“Don’t you dare!” she shouted. “We’re not going to stand by and watch you trash this place. It’s bad enough that you finagled your way into this position. Now you’re going to ruin what’s not even rightfully yours?”
These people were crazy. There’s no way that our house should have meant anything to them. There should have been no way for it to ignite so much hatred in their hearts.
“Dad!” I shouted, hoping that he would hear my cry over the sound of the mob. “Help me, please!”
Through the window, I saw him lifting Mom’s suitcase into the trunk of the car. He didn’t look in my direction, but I know that he must have spotted me in the corner of his eye at least. I was jumping up and down and waving frantically as the mob came for me.
At that moment, a river of hate flooded through me. It felt like I had dammed up all the rage and frustration that I had felt towards both of my parents. I thought about all the times they had ignored me when the house had hurt me. I thought about all the times that they had denied anything was wrong when there was so much that was clearly wrong. They had made me feel crazy for being the only sane one in the house. Now, when I needed them most, they were leaving me. Mom had dumped the whole problem of the house in my lap and she had turned all of her relatives against me. I slammed my hands against the windows. Jackie and the others thought I was trying to smash the glass just to be destructive. I heard them coming for me.
Everything happened all at once.
Before Jackie could reach me, one of the chairs flew out from under the kitchen table. It barely slowed as it plowed through her legs. She flipped in the air, with one leg sticking out to the side. It looked like there were no bones in her leg at all, the way it whipped around as she spun to the ground. The chair continued and slammed into the cabinet below the sink. Another cousin—Edgar—jumped over the chair as it clattered to the floor and he raced towards me.
The mob was out for my blood. Edgar stepped on Jackie’s arm and she screamed.
Behind me, there was a terrible crash.
Edgar looked over my shoulder and put his hands up to cover his mouth. His eyes were so wide that it looked like his eyeballs would fall right out of his head. They all stopped behind him—everyone who could see what was going on. I heard Jackie moan as someone else stepped on her.
I turned slowly. I didn’t want to see what had caused so much fear and confusion in his eyes.
I spun just in time to see the thing that made the second loud sound. It was the power pole falling on top of my parents’ car. They had crashed into it, breaking it off at the base. When it fell, the bottom slid and skipped across the road and the live power lines came right down on the car. The car burst into flames and I thought I could see hands pounding at the window, trying to get out.
“What?” I asked. I was too stunned to process what was happening. I had guessed that the demon in the house might try to make the leap to the car, but why would it want to hurt my mother? It was attached to her. It might torture her for its own amusement, but it couldn’t really hurt her. That would only mean hurting itself.
“What have you done?” someone whispered.
My mouth was hanging open as I turned back to the crowd and saw that they were all looking at me. Everything was completely silent for a moment, like they were waiting for me to answer the question. I didn’t have any answers.
The silence didn’t last long.
All the kitchen cabinets flew open at once. One or two of the doors slammed open so hard that they splintered. Plates, and glasses, and mixing bowls—everything tumbled out at first and then things started to pick up speed and they flew from the cabinets. People ducked and cowered. I saw my mother’s uncle get his arms up to protect his head just as a heavy pot struck him above the ear. The way that he crumpled to the ground, I didn’t think he would ever get up. Across the room, I saw that the back door
