Why Skies Can Lie
Stories similar to this that you might like too.
“The sky is always blue,” I said. “It’s not a lie.” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them, and now they hung in the air between us like an accusation that he wasn’t listening to me at all. He just stared back with his dark eyes as if nothing was wrong—as if it didn’t matter what color the sky really was or whether there even are stars up above.
It made me feel small again, but this time for something other than being too short. Maybe because I’d been so sure about him when we first met? Or maybe because things had happened since then that hadn’t gone well between us? Either way, I couldn’t stand looking into those cold eyes anymore.
So instead of answering his question, I turned away from him and walked over to look down at the water lapping against the shoreline below our feet.
I felt bad saying such hurtful things; after all, he seemed genuinely interested in learning more about the world around him. But how can you learn anything if everything has already been decided for you? How do you know which questions have answers and which don’t without asking someone who knows better?
And why would anyone want to tell you anyway? Why should they care enough about your opinion on any given subject to answer you honestly? They might be nice people trying their best to help you understand life by sharing some wisdom they’ve learned along the way.
But no one ever seems to think twice about lying to children. Even though adults aren’t supposed to lie to each other either! If everyone knew better, wouldn’t they act differently? Wouldn’t they try harder to live righteously rather than sinning every chance they got?
But somehow I still ended up here, standing alone beside a lake where only the moonlight reflected off its surface, wondering why the sky isn’t blue.
As I stood staring out across the water, I noticed another person walking toward me through the trees behind me. A man wearing a long coat and carrying a lantern. His face was hidden under the hood pulled low over his head, but I recognized him immediately: Father O’Leary.
My heart sank as soon as I saw him coming closer. What did he want now? Wasn’t it obvious what kind of trouble we were getting ourselves into? Didn’t he realize that we needed to get far away from here fast?
Father O’Leary stopped next to me and looked down at the ground, pretending not to see me until I finally faced him. Then he gave me a quick nod and asked quietly, “Are ye feeling alright?”
My stomach twisted painfully inside my chest. “What do you mean?” I whispered back.
He sighed heavily and shook his head. “You’re awfully quiet tonight, lad. Are you sick or somethin’? You haven’t been yourself lately. Have ya seen the doctor yet? Is that why yer moping around all day?”
I shrugged uncomfortably. “No… No, I’m fine. Just tired…”
His brow furrowed as he studied my expression closely. “Well, whatever it is, cheer up. We’ll find a cure fer it sooner or later. Ye just need ta keep your chin up!”
That sounded good, except for the part about keeping my chin up. That was easier said than done. All I wanted to do right now was curl up somewhere warm and sleep forever. But I forced myself to smile anyway. “Thanks for reminding me, Father O’Leary.”
“Aye, well don’t mention it. Now come on, let’s go home. Your mother will worry if she doesn’t hear from us soon.”
I nodded and started walking ahead of him toward the path leading back to town. As we passed the edge of the forest, I glanced over my shoulder once more to make sure no one else was watching. There was no sign of the stranger anywhere. Had he left already?
Or was he waiting nearby, ready to pounce on us at any moment? I shuddered involuntarily and hurried forward to catch up with Father O’Leary.
When we reached the road, I slowed down to walk alongside him while he kept pace easily at my side. It took a few minutes to reach the outskirts of town, and then we crossed the bridge spanning the river separating the two halves of the city. Once we were safely past the guards stationed outside the gates, I grabbed hold of his arm tightly and held onto him desperately, afraid that he might suddenly disappear.
But he didn’t seem to notice at all. Instead, he smiled faintly and told me, “Don’t worry, boy. Everything’s gonna work out for the best. Trust me.”
We continued walking together in silence until we came to the front door of our house, and then I released his sleeve and stepped aside so he could unlock it. He pushed open the heavy wooden gate and led me inside.
The first thing I noticed when I entered the foyer was the smell—a mixture of fresh bread baking in the oven and something else familiar, like vanilla and cinnamon. When I turned to look at Father O’Leary, I realized that he had changed clothes too.
This time, instead of his usual black suit and white shirt, he wore a dark green tunic and matching pants, both made of wool. A thick brown belt cinched his waist snugly, and there was even a pair of leather boots tucked underneath his feet.
After seeing him dressed this way, I couldn’t believe he’d gone through such an ordeal earlier today. Did he really spend three hours running through the woods barefoot?
After closing the door behind us, he walked straight toward the kitchen, leaving me standing awkwardly in the middle of the room. I followed him slowly, peering into the dim hallway ahead of me before stepping cautiously between the closed doors lining the walls.
At last, I arrived at the end of the hall where Mother sat at her sewing machine, working diligently on some new clothing for me. She paused briefly to glance up at me, and then went back to the stitching without saying anything.
She must have heard the sound of the lock snapping shut because she spun around quickly, still holding the fabric in place against her lap. Her eyes widened when she spotted me, and then they narrowed suspiciously. “Where’ve you been?!”
I hesitated for a second, unsure how to answer. Should I tell her what happened? Would it be better to wait until Father got here? What would happen if I did say something? If only I knew.
Before I could decide, Father O’Leary interrupted by clearing his throat loudly. “Ahh, I forgot to warn ye, lassie! Don’t talk to anyone about what happened today. Not even your friends. Understand?”
Mother frowned deeply but nodded obediently. “Yes, sir,” she answered softly, looking away from me.
Father O’Leary gave me a reassuring grin and reached out to pat my shoulder gently. Then he turned to leave again, pausing to give me another warning, “And stay close to me tomorrow morning. Stay indoors unless I specifically ask you to come along. Got that?”
I nodded hastily. “Got it!”
Then he disappeared through the doorway to the dining room, leaving me alone with Mother. My heart felt like it was pounding wildly in my chest, making it hard to breathe properly. I tried to calm myself down, telling myself not to panic. Whatever had happened wasn’t my fault. And I definitely hadn’t seen the man who attacked me after all. So why should I feel guilty?
Still, I couldn’t help feeling anxious. Why had he shown himself to me? Was he trying to scare me? Maybe he thought I was someone else. No matter what reason he might have had, though, I doubted it would change the fact that I was terrified.
Even thinking about going outside by myself made my skin crawl. But I needed to get used to doing things on my own eventually, right? How long could I keep hiding under the table every day?
As soon as Father O’Leary walked out of sight, Mother sighed heavily and put down her needlework. Then she stood up abruptly and began pacing nervously across the floor. Before I could think of what to do next, she stopped directly in front of me and stared intently into my face. “What happened to you?! Where are your shoes?!”
“Uh…they’re upstairs in my bedroom…” I stammered, unable to meet her gaze.
Her expression softened slightly, and she took one step forward, reaching out to take hold of my hand. As she pulled me closer, her voice became gentle and soothing once more. “Shhh, don’t be afraid, Conor. It’ll be okay now. We can go home. You just need to rest for a while.”
With great reluctance, I allowed her to lead me back downstairs to the living room. Once there, she sat me down on the sofa and handed me a glass filled with water. Then she left me alone, returning to the kitchen to start dinner preparations. While I waited for her return, I sipped the cool liquid slowly, hoping it would ease my nerves somewhat.
When Mother finally returned, carrying two plates piled high with food, I eagerly dug in. There were slices of roast beef smothered in gravy, mashed potatoes, sweet peas, and freshly baked rolls. Everything tasted delicious, especially considering the circumstances.
I ate everything on my plate, finishing off each bite with gusto. Afterward, I washed the dishes and helped tidy up the house before retreating to my bedroom.
It didn’t take long to fall asleep. The events of the previous night seemed so far away now. All I wanted to do was forget about them entirely. Sleep came easily enough, and I drifted peacefully into an exhausted slumber.
***
The sun shone brightly over Dublin city this morning, casting its rays through the window and warming my bed sheets. I groaned as I rolled onto my side, stretching my arms above my head and yawning widely. With a deep breath, I pushed myself upright and swung my legs out of the covers.
A loud knock sounded at the door, followed shortly thereafter by the sound of footsteps approaching rapidly. I froze instantly, wondering whether or not to wake Mother. She had warned me last night never to open the door without permission, but I couldn’t ignore such a persistent visitor.
Besides, I wouldn’t know whom to expect anyway. Father O’Leary rarely visited us these days. He always went straight to the church first thing in the morning.
After several seconds passed, I forced myself to move. Slowly, I climbed out of bed and padded toward the door. When I opened it, I found Father O’Leary standing there with a broad smile on his face. Behind him loomed a tall figure dressed in black robes, which cast dark shadows against the wall behind him.
His hood covered most of his features, except for the narrow slit of light that fell between the edge of his cowl and the bottom of the robe. I squinted, struggling to make out any details.
“Good morning, son,” said Father O’Leary cheerfully. “Didn’t mean to disturb you, but I’ve brought something special today.”
He held up a large leather bag, then stepped aside to allow the stranger inside. I gaped openly at the priest’s guest. This time, I recognized the man immediately. I met him only yesterday! The same young man who had been lurking around our neighborhood since we moved here almost three years ago.
Now he stood before me, wearing the exact same outfit: black robes with a red cross embroidered upon the breast and a matching crimson cape draped over his shoulders. A gold chain hung from his neck, bearing a small medallion depicting a silver sword piercing the heart of a serpent.
I felt my throat tighten painfully. What did he want? Had they come to arrest me after all? Or maybe…was this some sort of trick to lure me outside? Perhaps if I pretended to cooperate, I could escape unharmed.
Father O’Leary cleared his throat loudly, interrupting my thoughts. “Conor, why don’t you show Mr.—er—the gentleman to your room?”
My eyes widened in surprise. Why hadn’t he invited the stranger inside himself instead of sending me to fetch him? And how much trouble would I get into for letting someone like this enter the house unchaperoned? My mind raced frantically, trying to find a way out of the situation.
If I refused to help, Father O’Leary might call the police. But if I agreed to bring the stranger upstairs, perhaps I could convince him to leave again afterward. That was the best option I had available right now.
Reluctantly, I turned and led the way up the stairs. At the top landing, I stopped abruptly and spun around. The stranger watched me curiously. Forcing a nervous laugh, I waved a hand dismissively. “Sorry, sir. Didn’t realize anyone else lived here beside us. Please, follow me.”
Once I reached my own bedroom, I closed the door firmly and locked it. Then I hurried across the floor and slid open my desk drawer, retrieving the key to unlock the front door. Once I had done so, I took another quick glance at the stranger, making sure he wasn’t watching closely.
Satisfied, I placed the key back in the drawer and retreated to the corner of the room where I normally sat while reading.
This time, however, I chose to sit on the bed instead. It gave me more privacy than sitting in the chair beside the fireplace, plus I knew the stranger wouldn’t dare approach me when I was surrounded by walls. I waited nervously until the stranger finished locking the front door behind him, then I rose slowly to greet him.
“Hello, Conor,” he greeted me politely. “You’re looking well today. Did you sleep alright?”
His voice was soft and smooth, but his words made no sense whatsoever. How could he be talking about sleeping? We were awake just minutes ago.
I stared blankly at the stranger, unsure what to say next. After a few moments, I finally managed to force a reply past my lips. “Uh…yes, I slept fine.”
The man nodded slightly. “That’s good to hear. You’ll need plenty of rest during the coming months, especially once school begins. Don’t worry; I won’t keep you long. Just wanted to stop by and see how things are going.”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
He laughed softly. “Oh, nothing important. I’m simply curious as to how you’re adjusting to life in the city. Are you enjoying yourself? Have you made many new friends yet?”
“New…” I repeated uncertainly. “No, not really.”
For several seconds, the stranger remained silent. He studied me carefully, studying every detail of my appearance. Finally, he spoke again. “Well, I suppose that’s understandable. Most people tend to stick close to their families these days. They have no desire to venture beyond the safety of familiar surroundings.”
It sounded like he was speaking from personal experience. Was he one of those strange cultists who followed the teachings of the Order? Were they responsible for the murders happening all over town lately?
A cold chill ran down my spine. Could he possibly know about Father O’Leary, too? Maybe he overheard a conversation between them earlier in the day. No, there was no reason to suspect anything sinister. Not unless he planned to kill me later tonight.
Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I should hide somewhere safe until nightfall. I needed to think clearly, or I might make a mistake that could cost both myself and Father O’Leary dearly. There must be an alternative hiding place nearby…
Suddenly, the stranger smiled brightly. “Ah! Here we go!”
Before I could react, he grabbed hold of my arm and pulled me off the bed. His grip tightened painfully, forcing me to stumble forward. Before I realized what was happening, I found myself standing before the window.
“Where—” I began angrily. “Why are you doing this?!”
“Don’t worry,” he replied calmly. “We can still talk without being seen. Come with me.”
With surprising strength, he hauled me toward the edge of the windowsill. As soon as our feet touched the sill, he shoved me hard against the wall, pinning me tightly. A moment later, he released my arms, allowing me to fall backward onto the floor.
Instinctively, I rolled away from the window, scrambling desperately to escape. Unfortunately, the stranger moved faster than I expected. With a single swift motion, he seized hold of my ankle and jerked me roughly to the side. In less time than it takes to blink, I found myself lying flat on my stomach atop the carpeted floor.
My heart pounded wildly inside my chest. My head felt light and fuzzy. I struggled weakly beneath the stranger’s weight, trying to push him away. But he held firm, refusing to budge even an inch.
After several agonizing seconds passed, I grew desperate enough to try something drastic. To my horror, I lifted my right leg high into the air and kicked it out viciously. The stranger grunted loudly but otherwise refused to release my foot. Instead, he merely shifted his position slightly, causing me to land awkwardly on my left knee.
Pain shot through my body as I fell heavily to the ground. Instantly, I tried to roll away, but the stranger caught my wrist quickly and forced me back upright. Then, using only his free hand, he reached around and pinned my other arm firmly above my head.
“Stop struggling,” he ordered sternly. “Or else I will hurt you.”
I glared defiantly up at him. However, despite my best efforts, I had little hope of overpowering such a large man. Even if I somehow managed to break loose, I would likely suffer serious injury in the process. That wasn’t an option. Sooner or later, I knew he’d get tired of holding me here. And when he did, he wouldn’t hesitate to use whatever means necessary to subdue me.
Desperately, I searched for another way to escape. It didn’t take long. Suddenly, I spotted a small wooden box sitting near the end of the room. Its lid was closed tight, preventing anyone from opening it. For some unknown reason, however, its latch appeared to be broken. If I could just reach the top of the box, perhaps I could slip inside unnoticed.
But first, I needed to distract the stranger for a few minutes. Otherwise, he might decide to leave me alone while he went looking elsewhere. Or worse—he might give chase after realizing that I escaped.
Carefully, I inched closer to the stranger’s shoulder. Once I got within striking distance, I jumped upward and struck him sharply across the cheek with my fist. At once, he let go of my wrists and spun around. Caught completely by surprise, I tumbled backward, landing unceremoniously on the floor beside the window.
The stranger ignored me for a moment. After a brief pause, he turned slowly back toward me. When he saw me lying helplessly in front of him, he frowned deeply.
“You’re lucky that I’m in a good mood today,” he muttered darkly. “Otherwise, I would have killed you already.”
Then, without warning, he lunged forward and grabbed hold of my throat. He squeezed mercilessly, squeezing so tightly that I thought my windpipe would snap instantly. Fortunately, he seemed more interested in intimidating me rather than killing me outright. Still, I knew better than to underestimate him.
For several moments, he continued to squeeze my neck. Finally, though, he loosened his grip somewhat. Just as I started to breathe normally again, he leaned over and whispered harshly into my ear:
“If you ever tell anyone about this, I’ll find you wherever you live. And then I won’t kill you. No… I’ll make sure your death is slow and painful. Do you understand?”
Even now, I shiver whenever I think back on those words. They were spoken in a low voice, yet they sent chills down my spine nonetheless.
As far as I know, no one has ever heard them since. Not even the servants who worked in the mansion where the incident took place. Nor any of my own family members, either. Only I am aware of their true meaning.
And what do these mysterious words mean? Why did the stranger choose to reveal himself to me like this? What does he want from me—and why can’t I remember anything beyond that fateful night?
These are questions I’ve asked myself many times throughout the years. Yet I still haven’t come close to finding answers.
The End