Life After Disney

Part 8: Realization

A scream rang in the late night air. Wait, that was me. The pitch sent birds scattering and was enough to hurt my own ear drums. I pushed away from Mrs. Anderstone, tears sitting in my eyes. The woman who acted as a second mother to me was laying in front of me, lifeless and still. I thought about Riley, so bright and beautiful. She's your best friend! You can't think about that. Would she still be bright if she knew what I know?

"Paxton! Time is up! Report to the meeting spot." I reluctantly pulled off the ground. A little part of my heart remained beside Mrs. A. I continously looked back, tears flooding my view. The sun was sinking into the horizon, stealing the light illuminating the horrors around me. My feet carried me farther and farher away from the aight of my horrible discovery. I saw Spaceship Earth approaching quickly and my pace quickened. I reached the exit, running faster than I ever have before. The guards took no time in forcing me into the bus, breaking the butts of their guns on my back. I let out a small yelp of pain and one guard smacked me in the back of the head. I sat down as far away as possible from these monsters. As soon as I sat down, I instinctively reached for the spot of pain and felt something warm and sticky. My hand came back red, tendrils of pain shooting down my back. I leaned my aching head on the window, thoughts bouncing around in my jumbled mind. Riley. An image of a short, brown haired girl appeared in my thoughts. Her hazel eyes were gleaming with joy. She won't be smiling for much longer. As soon as I got back to the hotel, I was going to phone her. She deserves to know. The bus came to a screeching halt, spilling the contents of my bag onto the floor of the bus. The guards and the bus driver decided to leave as soon as they arrived. I began to pick up my pencils and notebook when I heard a small voice.

"You're bleeding." I spun around, examining my surroundings to find the source of the statement. A little boy no more than 5 lay on the ground in a pool of his own, fresh blood. His tiny handnwas wrapped around his mother's thumb.

"I'm okay. You're clearly not, what happened?" I knelt beside the quivering child.

"The mean men hurt my mommy. They hit her until she cried. They
h-hurt me too." The miniscule boy began to sob, tears pushing aside the blood on his face.

"They're gone now, you're safe." I sat down, rubbing his shoulders.

"But your hurt. Your head is hurt!"

"Not as much as you." His side was bleeding profusely. I pulled my shirt over my head and wrapped it around his frail torso.

"Thanks. Now you'll be cold!"

"I don't mind." To be honest, I'm freezing.

"Can you make it not hurt?" the boy groaned. At this point, I began to cry.

"I can't, but you can. Just close your eyes and listen." I began telling the story of Mulan. She was an amazing character, pretending to be a man to prove she had what it takes. He coughed p a little blood during the story. Soon enough, he fell asleep in my lap. Once I finished the story, I knew. My hand had fallen near his nose and it felt no breath. The little boy's dead fingers were still wrapped around his mother's thumb. He looked at ease finally. I retrieved my things and got away from the sea of corpses, my heart twice as heavy. Tears streamed down my dirty cheeks. I walked to the stairs and my sorrow made the journey twice as hard. I reached my room and threw my bag onto the floor. My sadness had died out, burning into rage. My fist slammed into a wall, my foot flew at the side table. The phone came crashing to the floor and I remembered my original plan. Riley needs to know.