Legends of You

Every night at midnight, the purple clouds came out to dance with the blushing sky, and every night I would stare in disbelief at how something so threateningly sinister could look so overwhelmingly beautiful.

I’ve been hearing whispers ever since I moved back to town two weeks ago about these dancing midnight whisps. According to those still inhabiting this small town, there is a legend about Zortan, a centuries old dead guy, that returns every thousand years to possess the body of one of his living relatives on their 30th birthday. These dark, looming clouds are supposed to be an indication of his return.

I mean... that must be made up, right? Who would willingly choose to return to this town? Everyone I knew, including myself, did everything they could to escape from here. And why their 30th birthday? Why would you choose a time when the body you’re possessing is going through the emotional turmoil of trying to figure out who they are, while also dealing with the reality of leaving their 20s behind?

All of these thoughts ran through my mind as I closed the curtains on the dark landscape and made my way to bed.

---

I was awoken the next morning by the alarming sound of my stomach growling like a bear in heat. Of course, I had forgotten to go grocery shopping the day before, so breakfast at the main street café sounded like the best option.

I rolled out of bed and pulled on my set of comfiest sweats. Each morning I wake up here feels a bit more eerie than the last. It’s so quiet compared to my childhood. There’s no mom zapping our pancakes to a crisp while the radio plays her easy-rock station. No dad listening to the newspaper read out its top headlines. It was just silence.

Each day I wake up to this makes it harder to pretend I’m just house-sitting and instead forces me to remember that they’re truly gone.

I had only seen them on holidays for the past decade, and now being back in this house after their passing brings sadness and guilt to my chest like a bad case of acid reflux. Maybe it was the fact that I was lacking in abilities that everyone else seemed to have, and that made me feel like such an outcast in a place where everyone knew everything about you.

I shake it off and grab my keys, hustling out the door. The main town strip, which is pretty much home to all of the businesses that make up this small town, is about a 10 minute drive. I couldn’t fly like some people in this town, so driving was unfortunately my fastest mode of transportation.

Walking through the front door was like a portal back to my childhood; the sounds of locals chatting about their plans for the day, and the sudden smell of freshly baked pastries being prepared for the morning work crowd. I made my way up to the long, white-tiled counter and ordered my old usual; a sesame seed bagel with butter and a large coffee with two sugars.

As I sat at the table in the far back corner, with just enough window to see out onto the narrow side street, I heard a voice I hadn’t heard in over a decade.

“Sophie?” he called from across the café. “That’s a face I haven’t seen in such a long time.”

I looked up to see Sam, the boy that had quickly become my best friend back in elementary school. He was right, we hadn’t seen each other since I left to go to college, 12 years ago.

It took a second for my eyes to adjust to the man who stood in front of me. He was definitely not the boy I left behind. His dark hair was cut and properly styled. I could now see the big, bright eyes that used to be hidden by the long unkept hair that would tangle and hang in his face. His square jaw line matched his wide shoulders, leading down to arms that seemingly had never missed a day at the gym.

“Hi Sam,” was all I could muster to say.

He approached the small table where I sat, the chair sliding out in anticipation of him taking a seat. “I heard about your parents,” he started in a slow solemn tone. “It’s good to see you, but I’m sorry it’s for such a terrible reason.”

“It’s good to see you too,” I replied. Truthfully it was. His was the first familiar face I had run into since I returned. Granted, I did spend most of my time at the house, and only made my way into town when absolutely necessary.

“I wasn’t even sure you’d still be living here.” I continued.

“Yeah,” he said, “I’m the last one of our graduating class that stuck around. I guess that makes me a bit of a loser in the eyes of someone who wanted so desperately to escape this place.” It was phrased as both a statement and a question, poking at the fact that getting out of this town was all I ever talked about when I was younger. No matter what, I was determined to leave and never come back. Returning to pack up my parents' things in my old family house was never part of that plan.

“Ha.. Yeah, I guess I was quick to escape. City life isn’t all it’s cracked up to be though. I miss quiet mornings like this. Time to relax and ponder, instead of always rushing to be two steps ahead.”

I sort of meant what I said, but who was I kidding, I loved the fast-paced life that the big city promised. Everyone was so involved in their own lives and drama that they didn’t even notice the small-town girl who couldn’t light a match with the snap of her fingers or cut her own bagel without the use of a knife.

He thought about what I said for a moment, and then decided to change the subject. “Well, you know what tomorrow is, right?”

Of course, I remembered what tomorrow is. It was the day he and I both shared and celebrated together ever since we became friends in the third grade; our birthday. I was officially 6 hours and 10 minutes older than him, but we both shared the same day of birth. This year though was a big one. We were both turning 30; transitioning into that phase when everyone expects you to have already started settling down.

“Yes, although I’ve tried to forget,” I say, which is the truth. My plan was to lock myself in the house with a bottle of wine and a few good horror flicks.

“How about I bring over wine and we watch some classic horror movies, just like we used to?” No one can read minds, but Sam always seemed to be able to read mine perfectly.

“Sure, yeah, that sounds great,” I say, with some hesitation. We used to be inseparable, but people can change a lot throughout their twenties. It was also difficult to overlook just how attractive he had become, and the tingle beneath my skin that I felt as his lips formed into a perfect grin was very concerning to me.

“Cool, I work late, but I’ll come by at midnight, that way we can get the party started right away.” He laughed as he pushed himself up from the table, his coffee also rising to follow him as he stood.

“Isn’t everyone on lock-down at night because of the evil sorcerer coming to town?” I joked, but I was curious to know his thoughts on the rumors.

He didn’t offer any remarks on the subject though. “Don’t worry I’ll sneak past the guards just for you,” he said with a wink. “See you tonight, Soph.”

He still seemed like the charming goof I grew up with. Nervous butterflies began to flutter in my stomach as I watched him leave the café.

Well, that’s unexpected.

---

Later that night I sat by the window after getting ready for Sam to come over. The nervousness hadn’t subsided, but as I drank my second glass of wine, it started to numb my senses to the point of excitement.

Looking out into the night, the sky transitioned from shimmering violet sapphires to a dark and eerie blanket of smoke. The skyscape seemed suitable for our night of binge-watching horror movies, but the sight of it also sent a chill up my spine. This legend really had the town a-buzz with worry, and now with wine coursing through my body I started to question the reality of it.

I thought back to the conversation I had with Sam back in town. He had mentioned that everyone from our graduating class had all moved away. That meant we were the only two people our age in town, and the only two people turning 30 this year. Which means, if the legend is true, and these dark clouds are here because of Zortan’s return, then one of us must be his descendent.

Could that even be possible? Does that mean one of us are at risk his spirit taking us over? No... that’s ridiculous, it’s just a silly old legend... right

Thoughts raced through my head as my gaze fixated on the dark clouds overhead.

I jumped suddenly as the antique cuckoo clock on the wall began to ding. As the bird emerged for the twelve time, indicating that it was now midnight, I realized it was officially our birthday. Quickly glancing out the window the clouds looming over the house began to descend into a thick, suffocating fog. This was not what I had wanted when I came back into town.

What had I wanted, exactly?

I didn’t even have time to ponder that thought when there was a hard knock at the door. Suddenly, my heart felt as though it was going to burst out of my chest, and the room began to spin. I moved in a daze towards the door, slowly turning the handle, praying it wasn’t this evil spirit coming to capture my soul.

With the door fully opened, I stood face-to-face with Sam, holding the bottle of wine he had promised.

Don't be stupid Sophie, of course it was him.

Not-surprisingly, I felt a sense of calm, which I always felt around him when we were younger. My body relaxed and it seemed as though everything may be okay.

That feeling only lasted a moment though, because the fog lowered more rapidly towards us, until it had engulfed us in its wake.

I couldn’t see a thing, silence rang in my ears, and the air turned instantly cold as though we had just been thrown into a deep, dark freezer.

There was just quiet blackness, and the gut-wrenching feeling that today was not going to be one to celebrate.