Book IV of the UNC Series
Carter Blake has a bone-deep hatred for the world-and especially for the people in it. All he wants is to keep his head down, focus on school and basketball, and avoid the mess of human connection. After enduring years of...
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The hallway is long and dark as I wait patiently, biding my time, clenching and unclenching my fists. The hum and chanting of the crowd are beguiling, their voices coating me in a thick layer of apprehension and unease. And it usually always feels like this when I'm anticipating the rush of adrenaline that'll course through my veins.
The shudder skating down my spine, the curl of my toes, and the tingling in my fingertips usually shadow me when I'm about to step out onto the court, ready to make some free throws, dribble the ball, and race back to defend the net.
But now, I'm not waiting impatiently to play a sport I've loved since I was five. I'm not anticipating what will happen or looking forward to the burn I'll feel in my limbs at the end of the night or the sweat dripping down my spine. I won't feel lethargic enough for my mind to shut off for one night, casting my senses into a state of numbness, hoping to escape my treacherous thoughts.
Instead, I'll feel worse off, knowing I have to do this again in another week or so whenever Inez deems it fit. It's something I hate: going in front of people I don't know and showing my weakness and vulnerability. Giving my mother and the people she associates with the ability to hurt me.
The ground beneath me rumbles and vibrates, and a shiver shudders down my backbone as I hear the chant of my name over and over again, like a prayer. My gaze darts upward when the light overhead starts to flicker. A stick-on one that isn't even connected to the power line, and yet, as the yellow warm-lighted bulb flits and struggles to turn on, it adds to the ominous and foreboding setting of the venue.
The Hollow is a rundown abandoned building that housed many runaways and the homeless before it was converted in an effort to make illegal profits. While no one knows why it was abandoned or foreclosed, it's now a popular spot for drug dealers, criminals and anyone looking to earn a quick buck. Previously used as a kickboxing gym, much of the equipment was left behind, including the soft-matted fighting cage and punching bags still scattered around the room's edges. The owners—or the people who conveniently had the resources to claim the place as theirs—also own another lot, which they called The Den.
While both places are meant to remain under the radar to keep the cops away—The Hollow more so than The Den, it's still popular enough to attract a crowd every night.
But since it's supposed to be a condemned building, there's no running water, heat, or power. Portable lights, large LED signs, and heaters were brought in to rectify the situation.
Though it's often not needed. Due to the overcrowded arena, there's a stale natural warmth lingering in the air. And on the account that it's illegal, not many people want to be seen attending, hence why they prefer the dark, menacing atmosphere.
The place still looks rough, with the posters torn and falling, the bulletin board greyed and covered in years-old dirt. Despite the grimy walls, I find myself leaning against it, wanting to linger in the darkness for a few extra minutes.
