Читать книгу Chronicles of the Second Realm - Curtis Reid Edgett - Страница 7

I was walking down the hallway, on the way to English class, lockers to the left and right. The other kids were making their way to class. You would think that the bright-yellow lockers, the nauseatingly bright-green walls, and wide-open area brimming with colorful plants would bring a sense of joy to everyone’s face who inhabited this stinkhole—but not really. Every kid looked just as dismal as the others around them. And the teachers here were kidding everyone, including themselves, that following your dreams and having hope for the future is possible. Most of the student body was stressed, trying to decide what they wanted to do with their future. Plans were being made, college acceptances were coming in, and I was just there. I merely existed.

I had been working at the local hardware store since I was fourteen. I had no plans for the future, no friends, no girlfriend; even my own family thought I was a freak. At least I had a ‘reason’ for all of this. When I was younger, I thought I saw a monster in my room. It was a shadowy creature with a menacing appearance. My parents thought I just had an overactive imagination, but I kept seeing things like this. My parents finally had enough and they took me to a psychiatrist, and I was diagnosed with schizophrenia. The doctor prescribed medication. Then, the visions started to go away. When the other parents found out about my disorder, most of them wouldn’t let their kids play with me.

In middle school, not much had changed; I was the weird kid who sat in the back. I was by myself a lot, but I did OK. I did my assignments and projects on time and never called attention to myself. The closest that I had ever gotten to having a friend was when I met this girl, Emiko. She was only a little shorter than I was, with shoulder-length, jet-black hair and a nice smile. She was the only kid that ever talked to me. She came in midsemester and was only there for a couple of weeks. Her dad was a wealthy businessman; and her family was always traveling. I hadn’t seen her since then. The last day that I talked to her, she was talking about Christianity and how God is all around.

She said, “God is everywhere. He watches over us and protects us. It doesn’t matter that you do bad things. He still loves you.”

I didn’t really understand what she was talking about at the time. I just thought that God dwelled in churches and only cared if you followed the rules of the church and stuff. I didn’t really give it much thought.

Once I got to high school, you’d think people would mature, and that I would have made more friends. Nope. I was a senior in high school and things had stayed pretty much the same; except I had the highest ranking you can get on all first-person shooter games. There I was: six foot one, eighteen years old, sitting in my school gym eating lunch.

The gym was dimly lit, with only a few large hanging light fixtures. I had my smartphone out listening to one of my favorite hardcore bands. No one was in the gym; it was just me—alone—again. I tried sitting in the lunchroom a couple of times, but no matter who was sitting around me, food always found a way to hit me. And the last time I was in there, one of the jocks thought that it would be funny to shoot peas through a straw from ten feet away, with me as the target.

I was getting tired of the abuse, so I calmly picked up some of the peas and put them on my food tray. I got up with my tray and walked over to him. “I think you dropped some of your peas.”

The guy had blonde, spiked hair, brown eyes, and earrings. He was wearing a golden football shirt, some dark-blue jeans, and flip-flops. “No, I didn’t.” He looked around the table at his friends and laughed.

“Yes, you did, and I think you should have them back.” As I said that, I used my cafeteria tray like a baseball bat and smashed him across the face. As I made contact, the tray bent and broke in half under the force. The dude’s body fell out of the chair and hit the concrete floor.

I found out later that I fractured his nose. I was somewhat disappointed that I didn’t fully break it off or anything. At least no one messed with me after that. So I decided it was best for me to find somewhere secluded to eat lunch; and the gym, so far, had been the best choice.

As I was sitting on the bleachers, a finger reached for my left earbud. I felt a sudden tap on my headphones. I looked up and no one was around. The atmosphere felt heavy. I took my headphones out and searched for what caused this feeling. I saw nothing but dark shadows in parts of the room.

After lunch, I headed back to class. I sat down at my uncomfortable, hard plastic desk and put my head down with my arms folded. The teacher ignored me and went on with her teaching for the last class. I started to drift off to sleep when I heard a voice that whispered, “Are you ready to die yet?” I was jolted awake and yelled a little bit. The whole class turned and looked at me.

The teacher stared at me and said very sarcastically, “I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

“No ma’am, I would never sleep in your class,” I very smartly said to Mrs. Mahler.

The class chuckled a little. She looked away and continued with the class, pretending I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t get over the voice. I felt like someone was inches away from my ear and whispering to me.

The bell rang; everyone collected their things and headed out the door. I made my way down the hall, through the courtyard to the other side of the school where the music room was located. My parents thought that I needed to do something productive and creative with my life, so they had forced me into the after-school arts program. I had a choice between drama, dance, or learning an instrument. I opted for one-on-one instruction with Mr. Bryans for guitar. He was a nice guy and very knowledgeable about music. He reminded me of the nerdy KFC guy. The white hair and beard made him look older than he really was though. I’d only been working with him for a few months, but I’d learned a lot of basic stuff. After that day’s lesson was over, I grabbed my backpack and guitar and headed to the bus lane for the activities bus.

Oh, crap! Just then I realized I had left my lunch box in the gym. As I made my way through the lime-green hallways, I started to notice something. Around each corner of the walls, I saw shadows.

Maybe those stupid lamps are busted, I tried to reassure myself. The shadows seemed to move where and when I moved. As I took each step, I heard the movement grow nearer. It was like someone had closed a door; except every time that I looked over my shoulder, no one was there. Whoosh! I heard a small gust of what sounded like wind.

“What the hell are you?” I yelled.

There was no reply. I was only answered by the strange looks of the janitors and some of the kids waiting for the late bus.

The shadows began to fade.

“Thank God.” I sighed in relief.

Then I began to hear something, like somebody sharpening a knife or the gnashing of teeth. It was a grating sound and it seemed to get louder and louder as I neared the final right turn into the gymnasium.

I approached the doors to the gym and they swung open with relative ease. The gym was empty and deserted. Unlike the rest of the school, at this hour, the gym was dark. The stadium lights were off, and the basketball hoops were put up for the night. I noticed my lunch box sitting on the bleachers. I walked towards the bleachers to retrieve it.

“Are you ready to die?”

I was just about to pick up my lunch box; my hands were almost wrapped around it. I felt a sudden surge of fear and absolute terror run up my spine. I barely managed to utter, “Huh?”

“Yes you, Owen.”

I gulped.

“Nobody will miss you anyways. Everyone thinks you are crazy. What’s the point of your pitiful and meaningless existence?”

“Excuse me?”

“But what would I know? I’m not even there.”

“Yeah, you’re not real.” I pointed into the thin air in front of me.

“How about now?” I could hear the voice coming from right behind me. I could feel the creature breathing down my neck. I whip my whole body around to see nothing.

“You’re not real!” I shouted.

“Oh, I am very real.” The creature jumped out in front of me. Its fur was gray and matted, like it hadn’t groomed itself in several weeks. It had fangs that were very large and yellow. It looked like a werewolf with a crazed look in its eyes. Its dingy fur was tinged crimson red, like blood near the tips. The creature had an odor about it, not like the cleaning products used in the gym—like a cesspool. The creature opened its mouth wider, exposing its teeth and further spreading the smell. “You can’t escape me.”

I fell to the ground and hunched over. “You aren’t real. You aren’t real. You aren’t real!”

“I am real. But who is going to believe you? Everyone thinks you are crazy—and you are.”

I finally managed to gather the strength to stand up, and eventually the blood flow came back to my legs. I decided to screw the idea of getting my lunch box and began to run. I made my way down the halls and around the corners.

“You cannot escape. You can never escape me.”

“Shut up! Shut up! Shut…up!” I screamed. I began to run faster. I made it to one of the staircases and ran up them. I passed the first floor and then the second floor. I finally made it to the roof.

“You have nowhere to run and nowhere to hide. You are alone. Nobody cares about you. It would be best to just end it here.”

I looked around. I noticed the edge of the roof of the school building. He’s right. If I survived this and told somebody, they would just say that I need to take my meds or that it’s just my imagination. There is no point in dealing with this torment.

“You might as well just end it,” the creature eerily whispered. “Just jump.”

I stood on the edge of the building. I looked just over the edge.

“Go on. Nobody will mourn you. All you are is a child, a messed-up, broken toy.”

It’s almost easy. It’s easier than being all alone. I stood on that ledge for a moment. I began to pace and contemplate jumping.

The creature came back into my field of vision. The sight of it was just as frightening; and it continued to taunt me mercilessly.

I stepped up onto the ledge for what I had hoped would be the final time. No more hurt, no more pain—it must be nice. I reassured myself that this was the right and only possible decision. And all I have to do is jump. I had one foot on the ledge and I put one foot out in front, nothing keeping it safe, except my socks and my chucks. I closed my eyes and prepared to leap. Just as I started to lift my foot off the solid ground…

Whap!

Something hurled me into the wall near the staircase and knocked the wind out of me. I sat slightly concussed on the ground. I wasn’t sure if what was happening was another hallucination or it was real. I saw a tall and rather muscular gentleman. He looked very composed and calm. His dark locks were gelled back very neatly; and he wore a black leather trench coat. I saw him grab a sword from the sheath he had on his back. His sword resembled Siegfried from Soul Caliber V’s sword, Caladbolg. It was a very sizeable broadsword that definitely needed to be wielded with two hands and great strength; but this man moved it as if it were made of Styrofoam, and with ease.

The stranger walked towards me. I grew more and more puzzled with each movement. The man brought up his sword with the blade pointed in my direction. He held the handle of the sword with both hands. He raised the sword up and plunged it down quickly into my chest. My body let out two different screams. “Ah!” I felt no physical pain, but my chest burned like it was on fire. My body thrust upward, and all of my energy began to leave me. I couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer; and then slowly, they started to close. The last thing I remember seeing was a dark, smoky figure rise from my body.