There was something wrong with you, deep down. It had always been there, even as a young child. People of the communion whispered- muttered how you were ‘corrupted’, and ‘of the Devil’. Mother tried to shield your ears, but she knew as well as everyone else did, you were depraved.

You spent a lot of time in solitude. In your room or up in the woods, observing the creatures, ignoring the twitching in your hands that begged for freedom.

It wasn’t until the neighbours dog got too loud and suddenly went missing that your father decided to pack up and leave from the prying eyes.

A tiny town in New Orleans was you fathers choice of residence, a little area somewhat resembling your previous home. With a thriving religious community, your parents sought to present you as a regular child, claiming you were simply shy, and nothing more.

After moving into the new neighbourhood, you had been forced to make friends with at least one child, so your family had decided to host a garden party.

———

In the house opposite yours sat a child in as neat clothes as he owned.

Alastor was a loud child, always smiling and friendly, contrary to how he actually felt. In honesty, he preferred the comfort of his own company and the little critters in the garden or behind the church.

His mask was perfect. Although as a small kid, people tended to look at him weirdly, now they brushed past that as if it was a small phase of his childhood.

The only ones aware were his parents. More specifically, his mother. She knew, and didn’t treat him any differently. His father preferred to ignore that part of him, shooting him judgy looks whenever he did something his father deemed ‘devilish’.

He swung his legs on a chair that used to be too big for him, yet now let his feet brush against the floor, waiting for his parents to get ready.

After what felt like an age, his family called on him, ready to leave. They walked across the road, Alastor holding the plate of potato salad his mother had baked as a housewarming gift. The backdoor gate was open and he could hear people talking.

They walked in and he set the food down. His parents went to find the house owners and pat him on the back in a ‘run along’ gesture.

He wandered around the backyard, smiling and waving at the familiar faces. When asked, he would say he was trying to find the new family’s child, but in reality, he was heading to the most secluded part of the garden.

When there, he actually did find the new family’s child, you- sat there playing in the dirt.

He approached you. “Hello. You’re the new child, right?”