Number Two (Peter) Rating: PG-13

[father-peter.livejournal.com]

Peter stared at the large red "Number Two" he'd written across the top of a fresh piece of paper. His eyes unfocused and he tried to shake the cobwebs from his mind. Too much to think about. Too many failures to count. He reached over to the diary, labelled 1999. He opened it, and steeled himself for what he was about to read. The memories he was about to dig up.



January 19th, 1999

I've dreamt of her the past few nights. She's a small girl, her hair is long and black. Her skin is tan. But last night, her eyes turned black. She must be like Darren and Svetlana. I hope I dream of her again. I have permission to travel from the church, I just need to know where I am going. I can't try to help her if I don't know where she is.

I don't understand why I am finding this out in a dream.

January 27th, 1999

I arrived in Manchester today. It was as if I knew exactly where to go. I took a taxi to her school and I sat on a bench outside. She walked up to me, and I knew then, that she'd dreamed of me too. She sat beside me, asking who I was. I said I was a priest, in town to do some work with a local parish. We relaxed and chatted. She didn't seem like Darren at all. She was relaxed and happy. Then she said, 'you're a priest, right? Can I ask you something?' and she told me all about how lately, she's had the urge to hurt her little sister. She told me that she was adopted and the little girl isn't her blood sister and she hates that sometimes, her adoptive parents treat her better. I explained that those feelings of jealousy were normal and it was best to talk to her parents about it. We talked until it was well after dark. She told me she'd like to speak to me again and she went home. I hope I did the right thing.

If anything else, at least I got here in time.

January 31st, 1999

Her name is Samantha and she wants to be an actress when she grows up. She talked out her previous problems with her parents, and she says she's not angry at her little sister anymore. She wants me to come to her school play that the year 10 is putting on. I told her I'd love to.

February 5th, 1999

Samantha threw a fit in her school today because her best friend 'was flirting with the boy I have a crush on!'. She slammed her locker, resulting in knocking several of the lockers clear of the wall they were securely screwed in to. I had doubts that she was capable of the things I saw Svetlana and Darren do, but those doubts have been shattered. She's such a lovely girl. I don't want to loser her to this. She seemed honestly sorry and upset about what she'd done. We talked about it and I gave her the same advice I gave to Darren. I only hope it works.

February 7th, 1999

Sam has been suspended from school for the past few days, so we've been working a lot. Her parents now know about my involvement and they approve. I've been going over anger management techniques, which she seems to find quite silly. It is quite clear to me that she has no idea what is being done to her. I wish I understood it. She thinks it's just adolesence. It's not. It's something else. It is a type of spirit posession? Is it some genetic mutation? Is it some sort of psychological problem that manifests bursts of strength? That doesn't explain the eyes. Or the way that sometimes she seems to have a dark shadow around her.

February 8th, 1999

Sam and I were working together today, and out of nowhere, she got angry. I don't know what I said, but it triggered something. She stood and screamed, her voice was inhumanly loud. Her eyes went pitch black and I was terrified. She collapsed on the floor, sobbing. She told me to leave, which I did.

I shouldn't have.

Her little sister found her like that. Sam broke her arm and left, destroying the front of the house as she went. No warning, nothing. She just left. Her little sister will be fine, but I doubt Sam will be back.

I failed again. And I failed someone so innocent and pure...

February 13th, 1999

She hasn't come back.

And she never did. Peter slammed the diary shut. He'd been so stupid. So afraid for his own safety that he'd left when she told him to. What if he'd stayed. Would she have killed him? But then, would she have hurt that little girl?

It was too much. Leaving the list for tomorrow morning, Peter staggered across the room and fell onto his bed to catch a few hours of sleep.