|NIGHTLIGHT|

Larson took my hands and we were gone from "my room".

The new place was still dark, but the sky was beginning to lighten up. Hopefully it will be completely daylight soon; we haven't seen the beast during the day yet, so we can still hope that it only comes out at night. That's the last thing we can hope for; that's our only chance. We both know that, but neither of us have said it out loud.

A park. We were in a park complete with a swing set, a jungle gym, a slide, picnic tables, and a baseball field off to the left.

A sand coated ground was under our feet, and my eyes followed it's edge all around the playground area.

No living people were here, but it was early in the morning so that's expected.

Larson's smile was wide. It was the one I love, the one that squints his eyes and melts my heart. He loves this place, that's pretty obvious.

"I used to come here with my dad all the time." He looked over at me, smile slowly fading. "My real dad." His eyes fell to the ground.

He's ashamed of what his dad did, but he has no reason to be. He can't help what happened, he was young, there was nothing he could have done to stop it.

He spoke again after my long silence. "It was before he got...crazy. He was cool back then." Larson's eyes were glued to the baseball field, but they were seeing his memories.

"Want to go down there and play?" I asked. Maybe I can cheer us both up.

He was startled by my sudden words. A tiny smile returned to his face, and a sparkle to his eyes. "Yeah, race you!" He yelled, after taking off towards the fence.

A laugh escaped from deep within me. I haven't laughed like that in a while; it was nice.

A better idea popped into my head, and I acted on it.

I was on the other side of the fence standing in the dirt within seconds. Larson's head was turned back towards where I previously stood.

Confusion and then laughter clouded over his face. "Cheater!" He called down to me. Then, he disappeared leaving nothing but a small cloud of dirt.

His arms were around my waist, hugging me close to him while he rested his head on my shoulder. "You are a little cheater, Harley Jamison." He said into my ear, then planted a little kiss on my cheek.

I turned to face him, pinching his cheeks like an old person at a family reunion does. "I'd say I'm more of a...creative competitor."

"Oh really?" He asked. I still had his lips stretched thin, so his words sounded funny.

I giggled, "Yes, really." I squished them together and kissed him lightly.

His eyes were closed when I pulled away. I touched my nose to his briefly, then took off towards the dugout.

"I'm pitching first!" I called to him.

"No fair, you cheated... again!" I could hear his heavy steps behind me.

I picked up an old dusty glove with pink straps and brown leather fingers. It was small, but it fit my hand perfectly.

I returned to the field to find Larson already at bat, with his hoodie off and tossed to the side.

He smirked and wiggled the bat behind his head, signaling that he was ready.

I threw the ball the best I could, but it geared off too far to the left, or so I thought. A loud bang echoed through the early morning air. Larson hit my crappy pitch.

The ball soared over my head, landing in the green grass almost at the fence.

"Wow, I can't believe you hit that one." I said, jogging over to the bag of extra baseballs that hung on the fence.

"I told you I played a lot with my dad, maybe even in highschool. My dad was in the minor league for a while."

For a second I wanted to think his dad was cool, but then I remembered what he did to Larson's mom.

My second throw was a tiny bit better, although a normal person wouldn't have hit it. Larson did though. This time it hit the fence with a clank.

My mouth hung open, he noticed before I could fix it. He smiled wide at me. He liked to impress me I think.

"Next one's coming for you." He said, pointing the bat at me.

I gulped, making myself unsolid just in case. I threw it again, too low. He smacked it lightly and it came right towards my chest. I held my glove in front of me for protection and closed my eyes. The ball passed right through me.

"Really? You would of had it if you were solid." He said shaking his head at me. "And were your eyes closed?"

He dropped the bat by his feet, and shuffled to me. "Okay, the pitcher is fired, hand it over." He motioned to the glove on my hand.

I gave it to him with a sheepish smile, then headed over to get the bat.

I put my feet in what looked like the right spot, then poked out my butt like I've seen other players do.

"Ready?" He asked. I hadn't noticed that he was watching me with his hand on his hip. He looked bored.

My cheeks heated up. "Yup." I said, not fully sure if I meant it though.

He grinned, "here we go."

The ball zipped right over the plate. I didn't have to ask if it was a strike.

"Strike one!" Larson said in a deep voice, followed by laughter. "You didn't even swing."

"You threw it a hundred miles an hour! Do I look like I played major league baseball in my day?"

He suppressed another out burst and prepared to hurl the second pitch. It was slower, but I swung too late.

Another pitch whizzed by me, not even close to meeting my bat. In fact, the bat tumbled from my hands.

Larson face looked as if it could explode. His lips were curled in tightly no doubt holding in more laughter.

"Maybe you should try it left handed. Your swing is a little unnatural looking."

"I'm not left handed though." I said.

"Couldn't hurt to try.." He shrugged.

I sighed and readjusted my stance on the other side of the plate.

"Ready Harley?" He asked.

I nodded.

He tossed the ball once again. This time I felt the bat vibrate in my hands. I watched the ball bounce off towards third base. "Wow, great job sweetie!"

My blood went cold. It wasn't Larson's voice. Not Josiah's either. I didn't recognize it at all.

My head turned in the direction of the voice, and I was looking at a man in a dirt stained, white t-shirt. The angle of my vision was noticeably from a shorter stature.

I looked down to my hands now. They were small, like a kids small. My tiny finger nails were painted pink, and a homemade bracelet hung around my wrist.

"Did it hurt your hands sweetie?" The voice was in motion. "Here, let me see." 

"They're okay, daddy." The voice came from inside me. I could feel the squeaky sound form in my throat. It was absolutely weird. It was so strange to hear another voice come from my own body.

"That was a good hit. Mommy will love to hear about that one." The man that must be my father held my hand in his. My eyes studied his hand briefly before looking up at his smiling face.

His face was tan, and small wrinkles spread out from around his brown eyes, and in the cracks of his mouth.

His hair was shaved short, but it was thick and dark nonetheless.

My heart pounded. I'm looking at my father from years ago. I mean this memory had to be at least twelve years old.

He picked me up, and I tucked my head behind his shoulder, placing my little arms around his neck.

My eyes were closed as I breathed in his unfamiliar scent.

Suddenly, Larson's voice rang out. "Harley!?"

I looked up from my daze, squinting in the bright sun.

"What?" I asked in my normal voice.

"What's going on with you?" He asked. His arms were tucked under my bottom, and I realized that I was still being held even though I was no longer a little girl.

I dropped down, embarrassed. "A memory I think."

He seemed confused. "Let's go back to the park, and then you can tell me about it." With a whoosh we were next to the swing set, and he walked me over to one of two swings that were still intact.

I held onto the chain tightly, still feeling a bit dizzy.

"What was in the memory this time?" He asked.

It seemed hard to explain, almost impossible. I was beginning to think that I didn't really see it. "I think I saw my dad."

Larson's blue eyes widened. "Your dad, are you sure?"

"Yes, I called him daddy. I was a little girl. We were playing baseball... I think turning the bat around the right way triggered the memory."

His eyebrows were pulled together tightly. "I don't think that's right Harley..."

"What, you think I made it up?" I was surprised by his newly acquired tone.

"No, I don't think you can trigger memories, let's just drop it." His eyes were fixed on the woods in the distance. No evidence of a smile was left on his face.

I didn't know what to say. He had suddenly started acting so strangely. I felt weird talking to him about this topic. He obviously was against it.

I stood from the swing.

"Where are you going?" His gaze was on me now, although his eyes were shaded from this angle.

"I'm going to go to the school and try to trigger more memories." I said.

I vanished from the park, hoping Larson wouldn't follow me.