*
There is that rare moment in everyone’s life when dreams are believed in. Dreams also change. The old ones are thrown away, then retrieved from pools of doubt. That final moment of revelation dawns on you at the last possible second. This is a typical life, one seen in almost everyone. But it isn’t normal. It isn’t pure.
A normal life is when dreams only come true when you deserve them. You know what you want, and you don’t attempt to change it no matter what happens. All confusion is drained out of your system. If what you want is worthwhile, you will know how to get it.
Throughout my days, everything has been the same. Births. Celebrations. Presents. Celebrations. Presents. Fights. Separation. Presents out of guilt. Reuniting. Celebrations. Presents. Someone gets something because they want it.
Never do they actually deserve it.
Then there is Hecate. It has been thirty years since I have seen anyone as normal as she. The girl is surrounded by Unnormals. Yet somehow, she is able to deflect all bribes and influences around her. She does not want anything, nor does she feel she needs anything. People like Hecate belong in Heaven.
All others must be let go.
*
I have formed a habit of excluding the observance of all other life forms to save time for contemplating Hecate. It is exquisite, how one remains serene while walking through a world of sin. She is a broken sink in a sea of sponges. Only Hecate is unable to absorb all of the typical actions around her. They simply slide away. She will not release her knowledge to others. That is one thing they are too close - minded to collect, and the Unnormals do want everything.
Most days at school, the girl will not be spoken to. To her peers, she simply isn’t there. Occasionally, someone will approach her and maybe mumble something before scurrying away, snickering to their friends. After a long period of her usual silence during a class, a teacher will try to speak to her. A question will be asked to see if the was at all listening to what was being taught. As usual, there is only silence. The silence of sound waves and crumpled up pieces of paper bouncing against Hecate’s impregnable wall of isolation.
I wish there was a way to find out what she is thinking. It is a miracle when she talks.
Two chimes ring through the sky when Hecate comes home from school. Neither of her parents are home: they return when the sun has almost completely tucked itself into the western horizon line. When she walks up the front doorstep, she retrieves a key from around her neck and unlocks the door. Every day, Hecate immediately goes into her room once entering the house. I always see her take several pieces of paper out of her royal blue messenger bag, then walk over to a small desk by the window. My vision can only zoom so far as to see that she is writing something. What, I do not know.
This goes on until soon after the next set of chimes ring, reverberating dynamically through the air. Once Hecate is finished, she gets up from the desk and walks over to a safe seated on a chest of drawers. Unlocking it with a combination I cannot see, she places the papers inside.
Not until two days from now do I figure out what it says.
*
Hecate does not have a disease. No, she has the ability to speak. I admire her tough decision not to. However, there are instances when she communicates with others. It is just hard to catch her in that moment.
Hecate will speak to her parents. I remember one day when she came out of her room and walked downstairs to dinner almost immediately after her parents’ call.
There is one thing I very quickly realized after meeting Hecate. Her parents are like any other pair of kind and loving adults, always wanting their child to be happy. Unfortunately, their ignorance (like all the others) to the information that was concealed in their daughter’s mind weakened the connection from her to them. As Hecate makes her rare appearance at the dinner table, the scene becomes ... awkward.
“Honey, we’re so happy that you came down tonight,” Her mother, Demi, is a kindred spirit. It is likely that her goodness was passed down to her child. However she also possesses the typical trait of the Unnormals: the constant wanting for Things. Items. Collectibles, as I call them. Because of this, she has always bought “stuff” for Hecate, the kind of trendy accessories and whatnot that would bribe any typical eleven year old girl out of her room. There are piles of it in every nook and cranny of the house.


Tameron, Hecate’s father, is ... different.

“Hello, Hecate,” Tameron simply stares at his daughter, as if trying to decipher a code that would unlock the mysteries of her mind. “Look how much you have grown. You know, it would be nice to see you more often.” There is no filter with that man.
“I have been busy, father” Hecate says softly. Tameron scoffed, and Demi swats his arm to silence him. With a grunt, he trudges over to the stove to tend to the dinner. Demi smiles sympathetically at her daughter. Hecate just sits at the dinner table and remains silent.
*
Hecate walks to school this morning, as she does every day. The sun is beginning to peek through the early morning fog. Until she rounds the corner onto the street of her school, she remains undisturbed. As she passes the sign reading Virginia Avenue, Hecate is stopped by a rough hand latching onto her wrist. She looks down to see a woman in a ragged shawl kneeling at her feet. The woman stares up at her with a frail face, but wide eyes.
“Something to spare, girl?” The woman’s hand is trembling fiercely. For a moment, Hecate just stands there. I am ready to pull my hair out, seeing that poor woman in such a state. Then, slowly, Hecate kneels down until she is face - to - face with the stranger. Slowly, she pulls the royal messenger bag over her head and places it in the woman’s lap. She whispers to her,
“My school lunch and snack, extra money for lunch. Keep it. Remember me.”
The woman gasps. “God bless you.”
God bless her, indeed.
Hecate embraces her, then gets up and walks to school empty handed.
“Hecate, where are all your things?” As she enters first period, Hecate’s teacher comes over with an inquisitive look on her face. Hecate responds with a hard glare, then walks to her seat. The glass wall comes up. What Hecate doesn’t see is her teacher walk up to the phone hanging on the wall, check a list of numbers, and press several numbers on the keypad.
“Hello? Yes, is this Hecate’s mother? Hello. Hecate came to class today without her school items. Did you send her to school this way? ... No? I asked her, she just glared at me. Ok. Goodbye.”
She hangs up the phone and walks over to Hecate’s desk. Hecate’s eyes are closed, her hand folded on her desk. She looks peaceful.
“Hecate. You are going home. Your mother is going to pick you up.”
Hecate abruptly stands up and darts out of the room. She runs all the way to her mother’s car at the front of the building. Neither of them talk the whole drive home.
*
Of all my observances of people’s lives, Hecate’s is the most appreciative, and the most tragic. When Hecate’s mother pulls into the driveway, Hecate immediately runs into the house. I am not fast enough to trace her, but I do see the door to her bedroom slam shut.
When I navigate to the inside of her room, I see her furiously opening up the safe and sticking her hand inside. She fishes around for a moment, then retrieves several wads of paper.
Hecate kneels down at the side of her bed. She holds up the first page of -
A prayer. Of all the things in the world. Master would be so pleased.
Hecate begins to read.
“Dear -”
“HECATE!! WHAT DID YOU DO?? YOU KNOW WE CAN’T AFFORD ANYMORE STUFF FOR YOU!” Tameron barges in, the door ricocheting off the wall. In his hand is a board.
A wooden board.
He charges over to Hecate, who isn’t even trying to shield herself. She is trying, trying desperately, to read the prayer.
“They say that God created everyone on this planet, and the universe. But He couldn't have created us. We belong somewhere else. We don’t deserve a place like Heaven.
“All my life, I have wanted to go to Heaven. This has been my dream. I don’t care if I leave here young. I just want to go to Heav -”
A shadow enlarges over Hecate as Tameron brings the board down on his only daughter’s head, and my connection to Hecate disappears.
*


Master told me once that when you put your heart and soul into your dreams, there is a good chance they will come true.
He was right.