I remember that day as if it were happening right before my eyes. It was a light and warm summer's day, the kind where you are supposed to feel happy to be outside and alive. I can't really feel that way about summer anymore. Not since what happened on that day.
That was the day where my parents had told me I was moving. I was only eight at the time, and they told me that they didn't want to send me away, but I had to go because they didn't think the area was safe enough for me. You see, the place where I lived was not the most friendly of areas; my parents would never let me go out to play, since there were gangs who would quite often get into huge fights. I remember one particular night where I was laying awake in my bed as the thin grey curtains of my room weakly veiled the full moon that was outside. I remember hearing shouting and the smashing of a bottle, followed by a screech of tyres and a thud. The next day I heard that two gangs had gotten into another fight only this time one of them brought along a car and killed one of the gang members in a hit-and-run attack. I think it was that day my parents decided they would send me off. Anyway, on the day they told me, they had already packed my things when I was sleeping and they put me in a car. They promised me they would come and visit, and that eventually everything would turn out alright. I didn't believe them for a second, and I said nothing that whole day. It felt like my parents were betraying me, even though I know now they were trying to help me. But I got into the car as my parents drove me away.
The journey was fairly boring, I ate a few crisps and played a few electronic games, but eventually we got to the house. It was a fairly old house, but it had been maintained very well, except for the plants. There were barely any flowers, and the few that did grow looked faded and grim. As my parents waved goodbye, I ignored them and turned my back, trudging towards the front door of the house. I knocked, and my uncle opened the door. He was a fairly short and fat man, with black hair and a small goatee like beard. He welcomed me in and showed me to my room. I didn't say much in reply, except for mumbling a few 'thank you's and 'okay's. My uncle decided to leave me on my own for a while, no doubt thinking I just needed a little time to settle in. However, I looked out of my window and saw he had a back garden. I'd always liked gardens and parks; they always made me feel most at home. So I went out to explore it.
The first thing I noticed was how forlorn the place felt. The grass had not been trimmed and the only sound I heard was the buzzing of a solitary bumblebee. I went to the back of the garden and found an old swing. The plastic seat was a faded green colour and the rope looked very damp and mouldy. I noticed a ring of mushrooms growing around it, which I thought looked quite cool. I walked into the circle and sat down on the swing, which just barely held my weight. As I did so, I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up-it felt like there was something, some kind of entity behind me, watching me. I slowly turned around, fearful to see what the thing was, but as I looked behind me I saw there was nothing but the soft rustling of the wind through a rosemary bush. Relieved, I turned back around, and in front of me I saw something which shocked the life out of me.
Three tall women were standing in front of me, but they didn't look like ordinary women. Their hair was flowing as if there was a strong wind, but there was only a very light breeze. Their fingers seemed unnaturally long, like vines, but most of all were their eyes. Their eyes looked like... like huge round pebbles, and they were all staring at me with a fairly emotionless expression.
I was a little perturbed by this, but I formed a question.
"Are... are you angels?" I whispered. My family was fairly religious, so I heard the term a lot.
Their heads tilted simultaneously in a most disturbing way. Then, all their voices said the same reply in unison;
"We are your friend."
"But what exactly are you?" I said.
They looked at me with the same blank expression.
"We are your friend."
I was feeling somewhat unsettled, so I decided to walk to the house. But my walk quickly turned into a run. I had to tell my uncle about this.
When I got into the house, my uncle was in the kitchen.
"Did you find anything interesting in the garden?" he asked, obviously trying to engage in some sort of communication with me.
"Actually sir..." I began, until I saw something appear behind him. It was one of the women, and he was caressing my uncle's face. He must have noticed me staring at them, because he turned around. However, as soon as he did so, the woman vanished.
"What is it?" he asked.
"N...nothing," I replied, and quickly ran up to my room.
Over the next few days, I saw the angels everywhere I went. They would be in the room, watching me, always just out of my uncle's sight. When I was in my bed, they would watch me. I could not get any sleep for a week, as I knew they'd always be there.
Did they ever do anything to you?
No, not until about two weeks after the encounter. I woke up on one day, and I found none of them were at my bed. I was overjoyed that these things had finally left me. I went down to the front room where my uncle would normally serve me breakfast. However, when I got there, I noticed something odd about him. His eyes kept staring at me, and he had a blank expression on his face.
"W...what is it sir?" I asked, nervously, "U...uncle, you're... you're scaring me..."
At this, his mouth formed into a grin. The widest grin I had ever seen in my life. And he spoke these words:
"Don't you want to be my friend?" he asked, and his voice sounded as if two voices were speaking at once; his, and a woman's voice.
I screamed and ran into the garden. There, I saw the three women, but they were all lying still on the floor. They were dead.
As I looked up from this sight I saw my uncle, standing over me, grinning. I ran blindly, out into the street, anywhere I could.
What happened then?
Well, I managed to get a phone and call my parents. They asked me what had happened, as my voice sounded panicked, and I told them something awful had happened to uncle, though I couldn't say what through my sobbing. They drove there as quickly as they could and an ambulance came to see what had happened. They found my uncle, but he was dead.
After that, my life went on as normal for the next five years. My mother gave birth to my brother, and we all lived quite happily.
My brother and I were playing in some woods, and we were laughing and having a good time, when suddenly I saw this bright white light. The next thing I knew, I had a stone in my hands, and I saw my brother with his head smashed in. The stone and my hands were covered in blood. That's when the police found me and after questioning, brought me to you. They said I was 'delusional' and I needed 'professional help'. When I swore to them it wasn't me, that I could never do anything like that to my brother, they took out his mobile phone. It showed a video on it, and the video showed... showed ME, but... but I had a rock in my hand. And I heard a voice, it sounded like me but it couldn't have been me, it said...
You are not my friend anymore.
Yes, how did...
I look at the psychiatrist. Her face is contorted into the widest grin imaginable. I know now they have finally come for me. I am YOUR friend now. I know who you are and where you are. And I will find you.