Hush

Jack: Imagination or Memories?

The door to Jack's room had been locked, Ace had left him with a key to open it so he could come and go as he pleased, but Jack didn't want to go anywhere, looking about his padded room he felt this was the safest place for him and his train of thoughts. The voices in his head called him cruel things, racial slurs were thrown at the walls of his mind along with the vision of Elliot on the floor covered in blood. The sound of gunshots ricocheting behind the hushed persistent voices.

He began to hit his head against the wall behind him once more, the padding of the walls preventing damage to himself, but the motion and feeling of something connecting to his head helped quiet the voices, even as each hit struck at the same time as each phantom gunshot. With his eyes closed tight, Jack was trying to think of better times, of memories that he wasn't really sure were real.

His dad was teaching him how to ride a bike he got for his fifth birthday, refusing to give him stabilizers like his friends had in the street. Jack would learn the hard way, there would be no safety wheels to prevent him falling.

He recalled the memory of his dad smiling proudly, as he produced his school report with top grades. His mother who had been a secretary to a incredibly popular business came home baring gifts for him, often they were things to keep his mind stimulated, crafts such as build your own solar system and paint your own monster. She would read him stories at night and sometimes she would ask him to read to her.

Then as Jack got older and began to hang around with other kids of different interests he began shaping in other ways, his mum would scold him for talking like he was a gangster from the hood, telling him that he was smarter than that. He knew the people he chose to hang around with were indeed drop outs who traded bags of what they called 'bud' for extra cash. He never indulged in it himself, but he did accompany his friends on their dealings. Learning how it worked was all he ever indulged in at the time.

His father had found out about it, that was when Jack had his first proper beating. But it was for good reason. He knew his father was scared for him, he had purposefully allowed his grades to drop to maintain his cool image. But his parents and teacher didn't know that. So one evening when Jack handed them a letter having not read it himself, he felt a little awkward to find that his parents were being called into school to discuss him and his grades. After a quick call his mum made to the school, he was left alone in the house. A few hours later and he answered the door to a sorrowful looking officer who he granted entry into his home for the bad news.

'Your parents have been in a collision Jack.' He remembered the officer saying, holding steady eye contact. 'Your mother informed us you were here and died shortly after arrival at the hospital. Unfortunately your father died instantly.'

When Jack asked what had happened the officer told him of the car crash, how a stolen van had been speeding through a red light ploughing right into his parents little Nissan. Jack recalled there being no survivors. The officer asked for relatives to contact and Jack who had been standing thought for a moment, there were no family. His family had just been killed. He ran for the back door was over his fence and out of his neighbours gate in less than two minutes. He hadn't stopped to see if the officer had gave chase but every arrival at his friends house was short, each time their parents would call in hushed voices to the police, and each time Jack would hear the same knock at the door.

Jack had to run, and keep running until he was safe from their capture. He had seen the movie Annie, Oliver left an even stronger impression on his mind. With fear fueling his body he ran and kept on running. A memory of the first time he met Shawty began to enter into Jack's thoughts as he lay on the bed staring up at the ceiling, wondering why these memories felt wrong in his mind, when the floor began to shake.

Jack sat up, at first he thought it was an earthquake, but the sound of screaming outside of his door suggested something else, maybe the girls were playing a prank on him. He made to put his feet on the floor only to see the floorboards rattle as a dark fog began to creep up from the cracks, tendrils reached towards him and his door began to rattle but refused to open, screaming now filled Jack's room from below the floorboards. He gripped the key from under his pillow and made for the door, just as he unlocked it a gnarled hand reached around his leg and before he could escape, it yanked him to the floor hissing and growling.

The floorboards shuddering and creaking as more hands reached and smothered Jack pulling him away from the door, pulling him under the bed. Jack was drowning in voices that were not his. Calling him away from reality. He struggled to pull himself across the floor, unable to free himself from the chilled hold of darkness, something in the dark smog bit down into his muscle and he let out a shriek. Then just as loudly he shouted out the only help he felt he could rely on.

Jack called out for Hush.