A Borrower's Anthology

Smoke

People who stoked the flames became the fire itself. They added a piece of themselves when they started a fire or, worse, were consumed by it. Michelle knew this because she'd seen a face screaming within the burning embers. Ever since, she'd never been able to extinguish the memory. It followed her just as the smell had for days.

The shape of the smoke had only eyes and a mouth--a profile view; its grin was dark and wide open compared to the rest of the gray that surrounded it. No teeth, no tongue, but its anguished abyss could have swallowed her nonetheless. While she'd never seen a ghost so she didn't believe in them, that was the closest experience she'd ever had to one. Cloud-watching had always been a light pastime whenever her father took her by the hand outside, a way to actualize little fantastical dreams, but the mushrooms that billowed from the house flames were far more sinister. They were nightmares.

The owner of that house had been a nightowl, and the only time they were able to borrow anything was during the morning and afternoon, when The Human was asleep. She knew what his name was, but her father had forbidden her then from using it. Each time she slipped, he was quick to correct her. The less she attached herself, the better, he said. She'd been ten--she hadn't really cared back then about what could have been between humans and borrowers. Her dad had known best and she'd taken that for what it was worth.

The Human had been a rather quiet housemate. He didn't have many visitors, but he did have phone calls. Because he lived alone, he frequently kept himself occupied and gave few surprises to Michelle and her parents. He was predictable and well-maintained, which they liked. With only one floor for them to focus on, there was little worry about having to traverse incredible heights nor worry about not hearing The Human milling about on another level of the house. That was a far cry from her childhood home, as it'd had a total of three stories. She'd enjoyed the challenge--and the exercise--but once the elderly couple had passed away and talk of renovating the old property circulated, they'd needed to move to better avenues.

Despite The Human's predictability, however, there was an air of mystery that Michelle hadn't been able to shirk being fascinated by. She was shooed to bed by the time he woke up to go to work, yet there were a couple of times she'd been able to sneak out and observe him as he collected various items into a suitcase. Their purpose was lost on her at a distance, but because they all looked identical, she figured he must have been selling something or giving it away. It was a strange time of night to work regardless. He left nothing around his home that would have explained what they were either; he kept most them in unsuspecting locations with locks or other boxes. Sometimes, it was a wonder how they were able to borrow anything with how meticulous he was--not to mention how they hadn't been noticed yet.

What started off as a normal five-am Tuesday morning had rapidly descended into madness. She had been with her mother and father in the cupboards, grabbing a few crackers to keep in their one snack bag, when she smelled the burning. It was enough of a distraction that she stopped at the edge of the counter as they were returning to the home.

"What is it?" her mother asked.

No pans were on the stove--what few skillets The Human used were piled up in the sink. The oven was off, the windows were closed. So why did she smell it?

Michelle continued walking along the edge of the counter to the window sill. She wasn't unaware of how her mother followed behind at a distance, and how she'd heard her father stop mumbling about their 'shopping list'. She was surprised to find that when she peered out of the window, a thick cloud of tan and gray rose up, blocking the rest of world from view. Michelle's eyes widened as she stumbled back.

"It's smoky outside--I can't see anything!"

Her parents' response was instant. Her mother, being the closest, was quick to drag Michelle back to her side while her father hurried to the table in the center of the kitchen. As Michelle tried to peer out, she saw the briefest flash of yellow light coming from the front door. Then, her father swore.