When you're hurt . . . I will bleed.
"Harley!"
Elwen's voice went up in the air as I barged out of the girls' bathroom door.
My feet raced over the tiled floor and my breathing ragged as I ran for my life.
I didn't look back, I just ran. Ran like I would never run again my entire life.
Flight had always been the only response I could afford, even when absolutely everyone in the stupid too huge mall kept staring at me like I had grown two heads.
All I could think about was running.
Just running.
The aisle between the rows of clothes stores slowly morphed into my elementary school hallway.
"Harley, stop!” I heard its voice call out to me. "Stop running away!"
It was real this time, not just in my head.
But it sounded like a soundtrack in a movie, and my feet wouldn't stop. I couldn't bring them to stop, dread overwhelming and tugging at my chest.
Why was I scared? Why was I suddenly crying? And why did I keep hearing voices of kids laughing in the background?
They're laughing.
"Harley, get it together! It's not real. It's just a memory!" Its voice, more real than the sight of my elementary school and all my classmates pointing fingers at me.
I shivered under the scrutinizing spotlight.
They're all laughing at me.
Me. The boy in lipstick.
Looser. Sissy.
I didn't even know I had tears until I stepped outside the building, the wind hitting my face. My legs begged me please as I kept running, but no, I didn't stop. I couldn't stop.
I needed out. I needed to go anywhere that was away from this public terror.
The past crushed upon me, literally. Smashing down my fragile body and breaking my bones.
The laughter hadn't stopped.
It never did until I stepped outside of the mall gateway.
I forced my legs to move faster, faster, and faster. Overspeeding and going beyond my ability. I knew I'd crossed the limit when the back of my knees began to bite profusely.
I fell on my face, choking on my sobs as I felt scrapes on my knees and hands. Heck, blood stained my palms. I swallowed back the curses I wanted to throw at the damn gravelled sidewalk.
My fear doubled as I rushed down the dark road all the way home.
Its voice, still behind me. Calling out my name, begging me to halt, but I didn't. I swore I could faintly hear its heels chasing after me, as if I wasn't terrified enough for one day.
I didn't take a breath until I was up on the porch of my house, bursting the front door open only to fall on my knees again.
"Harley, please."
I looked up, and the little figure of the crucifix hung right on the wall before me.
"Help me." A low, almost inaudible cry left my mouth.
I didn't know who I was even talking to. The wooden corpse of Jesus or . . . it.
"I'm always here for you, Harley. Just say the word and I'm down for you."
YOU ARE READING
Demons are from Heaven
ParanormalBeing the pastor's son and all, Harleston could never betray his salvation to join a cult of archfiends, right? * * * Harleston is the epitome of immaculate. A Jesus freak who never misses a Sunday at church, never broken a single commandment (not...