Beep* Beep* Beep* Beep*
It’s the worst sound on the world, no, the entire universe- my alarm clock. The screeching bursts into my eardrums as it tortures me with its horrendous shrill. My master swings me like its puppeteer and with its tormenting rhythm it proudly makes me dance. I’m still half asleep, but I must untangle myself from its strings. I raise my arm aiming for the snooze, unfortunately I miss.
My sweat glands activate as the situation has become dire, I haven’t shut this thing off and if it continues it will awaken my roommate and then the entire family.
I must kill it now.
But my hand quivers, as if testifying: it’s not possible; the enemy has successfully shaken my arm. Meanwhile, on the other side of the room I hear Dominic uncomfortably grunt. I have no other option. With all my will and might I launch my hand once more…
I’m rewarded with peace as the morning is still again. I let silence consume me even though my ears and arm are fully awake but my eyelids refuse to open up. I steadily ponder while I fickle my fingers.
Why the hell do I do this to myself? This sinful routine is only for the mad or those who wish to achieve something with their lives, but which am I?
My nostrils languidly expand as my lungs take in the stale air. The moment is rejoicing, even though it’s still Summer the air feels cool and it gives me a tiny sensation of pain; it’s my personal high. If I continue like this my lungs will explode.
Without my consent my jaw opens wide open giving my body the opportunity to justify a lazy sigh. My eyelids decide it’s finally time to open up shop and begin my morning staring off at the empty cold dark ceiling.
How long have I been awake? Five, seven, or maybe ten minutes? I better get up.
With all my inner strength I force myself to roll halfway to confront my nemesis once again, it’s 5:03am.
Today will mark two months of waking up at exactly 5:00am every day; I’m still not used to this.
“Welcome to hell.”
I remind myself as I slide out of the safety of my sheets.
I slip into my running shoes, grab my black shorts next to my messy nightstand, and my favorite ebony sweater on the door’s knob; as I dress myself and stealthily walk out. The morning is still dark as I stand outside of where I call home.
I can feel it in my gut, it’s going to be another dull day. I should stay home and sleep maybe watch, “The Jenny Show” even though it’s for adults it’s pretty entertaining watching couples fight.
But I continue my morning ritual: stretching my legs and spine. As I do, I mumble gibberish to keep myself awake. I’m mentally still asleep as my mind complains-
Let’s go back to bed, it’s still not too late.
My body is finally warmed up ready to work again as my superego awakens exclaiming-
We can’t go back! We need to lose weight!
I agree with it and start walking for the first five minutes (don’t want to get a leg cramp like last time while being chased by the neighboring dogs).
After protesting with myself and accepting my cruel fate, I increase my heart rate and move my legs faster. A couple of minutes pass and the night keeps being silent, not even the barks of the annoying dogs disturb it.
Once I reach the main road I’ll hear the sound of cars; I might even see the stranger that likes to walk his dog.
I make it to the first stoplight which separates my past and my future; in front sits my ex middle school, “The Mighty Parrots”. The building is so old you can see cracks around its mighty walls, it has no lights to illuminate its presence nor anyone to guard it, but my destination isn’t the school; I’ve already graduated. This year I will start high school at, “Kemet High”; just two more weeks. I take a hard right and continue my journey, onto the main road.
Five minutes later and oddly enough I haven’t seen a single soul drive by. I brush it off as it’s better this way and not so embarrassing. Last time an officer had stopped me asking what I was doing so early; I had honestly answered: jogging, but he didn’t believe me and decided to follow me. Once we both made it to my home, I looked back and thanked him for his service and exclaimed, “same time, tomorrow!”.
Right now, I just want to finish and go back to sleep. Jogging in a straight line is so annoying! I better distract myself with something else or I’ll tire myself: how is high school going to be like? How many friends will I make? What about the ones from middle school, will I see them again? With whom will I be placed with? The nerds, jocks, preps, hopefully not the rejects! What’s my social status? I think I’ve done a good job so far. Are the rumors true about the seniors? Will we be bullied by them and called, “fresh meat?” This isn’t helping! I’m getting anxious and at the same time a little excited for the unknown.
My excitement is halted and turned into cautious fear as a stranger appears 50 yards from me. He sloppily runs from the stoplight on my right and into the middle of the road. My nerves turn to steel as I cautiously descend my speed; this is the first person I’ve seen and it’s not the jogger with his dog.
Is he crazy? Who the hell runs out at these hours?! Oh yeah, but I don’t think he’s out here for a jolly good time. Hold on. Neither am I!
The stupid stranger trips over himself, carelessly rolls over, and quickly faces from where he had come from. My primitive instincts force me to stop walking and quietly squat down.
This man is running away, but from whom?
Just from where the madman had come from, four other strangers follow. These men must be crazier than the first as they are wearing long umber cloaks and sandals!
Who the hell jogs in sandals?
Unconsciously, I look down at myself.
Not me. Are they from some kind of cult?
A raw bitter emotion runs down my spine as if death is around the corner. My knees lock as my legs tremble. I try to make them stop but even I can’t control them. A lump grows on my throat, I’m almost speechless. My superego slaps me and forces me to get on my belly. There’s nothing else I can do but watch as the scene unravels before my eyes.
The four men surround the lunatic, he tries to stand, but one of the cultists kicks him on his chest. My stomach wants to barf as it seems nothing good is going to come out of this.
Does he owe them money?
Suddenly, I swallow my own vomit as I watch one of cultists pull out a handgun and rapidly pull the trigger on the innocent man.
What the hell is going on?!
The victim tries to shield himself, but it’s hopeless. He screams and shrieks for his life. The other three monsters pull their murderous weapons and rattle the poor soul. The silence of the night is gone; at the same time it’s still here- with me.
Where the hell are the pigs when you need them?!
My eyelids close shop early as my hands cover my head, but I can still hear the howling of the poor man; he doesn’t sound human anymore.
How long has it been? It feels as if time has passed and forgotten me.
I grasp onto my bottom lip and try to see what’s going to happen next or if I have been discovered.
I’ll run for my life. What if I try to negotiate with them? What the hell am I thinking?!
The beating of my poor heart races, it wants to burst out and leave me here to fend for myself. My ears are still screaming, all I can hear is my heart wanting to escape, my screaming negative thoughts, my uncontrollable breathing, and… and…
Peace fills the night, there are no more screams nor shooting. I take a delaying peek, there’s no one in sight except for a lifeless body in the middle of the road.
Is… is he perhaps alive? What am I even questioning?! He’s dead! Dead! And if I don’t get out of here soon, I’ll be joining him too! Hold on! Where are they?!
I scan my surroundings but there’s no one in sight; just an empty street with a lifeless body and a kid that wants to go home!
If things couldn’t get any more insane, I hear grunts coming from the body and…
Did it just move?! Is that even possible? Could he really be?
I can’t even take a simple breath as I hear the roaring of a powerful engine traveling at greater speeds sound off from behind me.
My superego once again comes to unfreeze and guide me...
Go! Now! Help him!
There’s no time to dwell, I transform myself into a wild cheetah as my chubby legs spark and burn to the rescue. Meanwhile, the sound of the car’s engine is catching up.
My id shouts: you’re not going to make it! He’s already dead! Save yourself!
My superego on the other hand motivates me: Yes, you can!
Does the driver know I’m here?! I can feel the car’s headlights. The wounded man, he’s inches away! I’m going to make it! No, you’re not! How the hell are you going to move him?! There’s no time!
With my entire weight weighing on my left shoulder, I tackle the injured man and pray…
I feel the vehicle’s paint temperature as it brushes on my right cheek…
Lukewarm… What am I thinking?! I’m alive! I’m alive!
I can’t see my image but I must be pale as a ghost and at the same time glowing brighter than does damned headlights! I can’t hold my anger and excitement-
“Watch where you’re driving, you idiot!”
My cheeks are on fire, lungs demanding more oxygen, and my legs screaming for more. As my adrenaline runs out I remind myself to take deep breaths to calm down.
“That was too close for comfort- I’ll never do that again.”
I try to get back on the sidewalk and unannounced kick something soft on the floor.
It’s the stranger! I totally forgot about him! I need to move him out of the road! I ponder at first on how to move him, but find out that he’s really light as I carry him onto the sidewalk as delicately as I can. I start to remove his worn rags to see where he’s bleeding.
“Sir, are you okay?”
What am I even asking?! This man just got shot multiple times at point blank by four psychopaths!
As I make it to his chest, my heart stops.
This man doesn’t have any bullet holes nor does his clothes; not just that, there’s no fresh wounds only bruises and dry blood on him and his rags- is that even possible?
He vomits while getting some on me. I get a small whiff- it’s abominable! My gut can’t hold it, I close my lips, but still vomit some under my chin.
Is he some random homeless drunk? This isn’t right. Why am I complaining? This man must be in severe pain and here I am crying about my clothes and his stench; this man needs medical attention.
He grumbles something but I don’t catch any of it.
“I’m sorry, sir. I don’t think you should be talking. Please wait here. I’ll…”
I’m startled as one of his shivering cold hands grabs my right wrist and he reluctantly shakes his head, left to right. With whatever strength he has left, he opens his ripped chapped lips. He barely has any teeth and his mouth stinks even more than himself; I vomit once more, but this time on him.
“I’m so sorry! Let me clean that off.”
He ignores what just happened and forcefully points to himself.
Me, forgetting my manners interrupt the poor soul.
“I know. We need to get you to a hospital first.”
“I know. I know. Please, just wait here and let me get professional help. If you could just let go of me first.”
He ignores me as he hauntingly shuts his eyes and pacifically snuggles himself with his ripped dirty jacket. Meanwhile, I’m panicking as if my heart is going to stop at any moment.
How am I going to get help?!
I notice the man is too quiet now.
Did he just die?
I feel a jolt stab my chest and then my heart. It’s slowly killing me from the inside.
I never thought I would ever be in a situation like this. I feel like there’s not a living soul in this city my but own.
If only I had a cellphone. I told my parents I needed one for situations like these!
“Boy… come here…”
He’s still alive! Oh, thank god!
The stranger ghostly responds…
“… a little… closer.”
I’m so close, I can barely stand his toxic breath. I want to barf again but my stomach is emptied out.
Unconsciously, I interrupt him again-
“Where does it hurt? Maybe I can…”
He pauses, as if annoyed. I notice what I have just done. At this rate, this man must be furious with me.
He probably wants to tell me his dying wish and here I am cutting him off. This time, I’ll let him finish. Whatever he needs to say.
He stays silent while angrily starring at me; it’s uncomfortable.
Time feels frozen as if waiting for this man to die so death may take him. I wait by him until finally, I conclude he’s dead.
He never told me what was on his chest.
I shut his eyes with my left hand and carefully move back, while trying to remove his hand from my wrist; it’s the least respect I can offer his body for being so rude.
“GIVE ME YOUR SOUL!!!”
He’s not dead!
He shrieks and clamps onto me while knocking me on the ground with pure brute force. Both of his hands grab my wrists,
I can’t move! Where did all this strength come from? I thought he was dead!
He opens his rancid mouth wide open almost ripping apart as he licks his lips with a purple fungi tongue.
Is… is he going to rape me? No! Not like this!
He goes for my left shoulder as I scream in terror and pain. The only thing I can do is try to kick.
“Get off me!”
He feels stronger and heavier by the moment as he grasps onto me tighter.
My voice gives out. I want to scream, but only whines come out from me! My head cannot process everything as all is fading. My unconsciousness wants to take me to a happier place or maybe it’s just death coming for me.
It’s too soon!
The geezer rips through my muscle as I can feel my body spasm. I try to move but I can’t. My body has betrayed me.
This is it. Just another boring day.
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