King of My Heart.

another world.

Joshua
As I turned the corner, Tristan Montrose and his buddy Spaz interrupted my path. Spaz's real name is Percy Wilde. He only calls himself "Spaz" because he thinks it makes him sound cooler when, in reality, it just makes him look like more of an asshat. I knew exactly what was about to happen. They'd make some weak ass joke about my absentee mother, and I'd insult their intelligence, and then they'd kick my ass. It was a neverending loop. "Nice sweater, Beverly!" Spaz laughs in my face as his fingers are dancing around my brown locks. He plays with my hair like we had just made out behind the school parking lot or something. I feel like I should ask him what we are, the way he's so close to me. "It's Sinclair." I push him of me. Beverly is Annabelle and Garrett last name. Michaela, too, as she is their child, but me? I walked around in pride with the name of a woman who couldn't even bother to pretend she wanted me. I cling to it because if not, what else will I have of her? My eyes? My crooked smile? I already hate looking in the mirror, I don't need to find anything else wrong with my face. "Right. Right. Josh Sinclair." I can smell the weed and spearmint gum on his breath. Tristan's silent. He usual is. But I swear I can see the gears in his head turning rapidly. He has something he wants to say. And I can't believe I'm saying it, but I want to hear it. "It's Joshua." I finally say, looking away from Tristan big dumb unibrow and baby blue eyes. "Josh. Joshua. What's the difference?" Tristan says something at last but is quickly frustrated by my late responses and pushes me back. "Just leave me alone, dude." I say, just exhausted. "What's your deal today? Got nothing smart to say?" He pushes me again, this time with just his pointer finger. I wasn't even trying, and somehow, I still provoked them to kick my ass. Garrett does say I have that kind of effect on people. Immeasurably annoying. Spaz clocks me right in the face and continues to until my ears ring. Even then, he's going to town. As I lay there, Tristan grips his hand onto my collar and pulls me up. "Know your place, faggot." He threatens me in a whisper. I close my eyes, struggling to breathe from my right nostril and my mouth that was leaking from blood, and I pray, wondering what I did. Praying God would come and save me. I feel the same static shock, and I shakily slip my hand into my pocket to discard the rock, but before I can, it's already found its next victim. Spaz is thrown through the air and into a pile of trash bags by an old dingy dumpster. I can see the look in his eyes completely full of terror and panic, except I don't feel bad for him the way I did for Michaela. "Spaz!" Tristan, let go of me. And soon he joined him. I laid there, waiting for it to throw me next, but my body moved, not an inch. My leg was pulsing, and the concrete around me had a small hue of glow. No. No. Not now. I repeatedly muttered to myself, tapping my pocket to stop the throbbing as I felt it fuel up more than it had in Mica's room. I took the vibrating rock out of my pocket, and as it practically jumped out of my hand, the cuts on my skin shrivel up in a way and disappear. Tristan pulled Spaz up and bolted south, leaving me to bleed. I sit on that corner stop long enough to smell the colors of the chalk characters drawn onto the concrete underneath me, I swear I can hear anything at this point. I sat there, crying in a way I hadn't since I was ten. It was about more than Tristan and Spaz, more than remembering my mom, more than my life since I've been with Annabelle and Garrett. It was everything hitting me all at once. And that stupid rock wasn't helping. Belle would kill me if she got home, and the school called her to tell her I was ditching, especially if she just lost her chance at a new microwave to Isoloses and Madrigal. She's been talking about that microwave since last Friday's bingo tournament. I stand up, wiping my pants from the dirt on the curb, and quickly run across the street before looking to my left and right and onto campus. I live in Earlne, Massachusetts, so farther away from the good stuff. I don't go to Wisdom High with all the level-headed no bodies with crazy money and daddy issues, I go to Meadows. Meadows High. The grass isn't freshly cut every week or so, so it's like a literal field, trying to get to one class to another. The lunch is like any other school which says enough, and we don't pay to attend, so there wasn't really much to complain about. It was a free education. But it was Meadows. I walk into the front office to sign in, and Ms. Velis rushes to my aid. She's the school's social worker, and she's always pulling me out of class to ask about how I like life with the Beverlys. I don't know what I'm supposed to say. I just copy and paste everything I've said to the ones in previous schools. She mainly nags me about coming into school with a beaten up face and no books. It never actually works; reporting the situation to the principal. It's never really "looked into" like they say it will be, so I was taken by surprise when she came up to me, determined to report it once again. "Joshua, your face." She reluctantly places her hand on the gash on my forehead as if this is our first rodeo at this. "I'm fine." I roll my eyes, annoyed by her maternal affection. I look up and see the clock. School isn't even halfway through, and I want to go home already. Whatever that meant. I wasn't even sure I had ever known a place that looked like home. Let alone feel like it. "I was just playing with some friends." I politely lie. To no ones surprise, I don't have any friends, not anymore at least. So she's always so persistent on pushing me to make some. I knew telling I had would shut her up. "Well. Just be careful then." I can tell she believes me. She was so fixated on my lips parting to say the word 'friends' that she had forgotten I was completely beaten. Meadows was the way it had always been; uneventful and unbearable. The list really can go on, but it's best I keep it short though, don't want them trying to kick me out because I think their school is hypocritical, and their lunch is too dry. I walk into the cafeteria, and Spaz is serenading Maricela. It's a week from Valentine day and they had just broken up. They've been broken up since the night of New years, and he's stopped at nothing to try and change her mind since. I hold my head down as I walk past, trying to avoid any trouble at any cost. As I stand at the end of the line, I hold the rock in my pocket, flipping it around as I eye the trashcan, tempted to just chuck it. I could've. But think of the money. I needed the money. All of the guys at Spaz's table start to jeer as he walks back over with a disappointed pout and a titled head. I make eye contact with Tristan and quickly turn away. I sit in the back with all the theater looking kids, and even they don't want to sit too close to me. I scan the room, practically pissing my pants of how scared I am. I notice this kid. Tall, blonde, carrying some brown torn notepad. And for whatever reason, he's staring at me. His eyes are like two daggers to the heart. He's your stereotypical attractive guy. He clearly had girls fawning over him like he was Channing Tatum and swarming his way every chance they had. I get why I'd turn them down, but this kid? He was like that with everyone. And I get it. The new kid and all, but he had so many opportunities to make friends. Why doesn't he? Because he was a weirdo if you ask me. But no one is asking me. I have no friends to share my opinions with. He was lucky. He had something worth living for. He had everyone's validation and for doing absolutely nothing! Best believe if I were him, I would've been soaking up every second of it. But I'm not. So I shouldn't think of a world where I am. The most likable people always ended up people th worst kind of people. I get up to toss out the inedible glob on my tray and, in that same moment, instantly regret it. Spaz gets up from his table, and suddenly, my legs are out of fuel, and I'm unable to speed up. My stomach instantly drops to the floor at the presence of him behind me and the stench of his cologne. He clearly sprayed too much. It was worse than the mess of a meal in my hand. Spaz stomps on the back of my ankle and stands over me, laughing as I fall face first, luckily not into the block of undercooked pasta on my tray. The food is everything but scattered. It still remains solid, even thrown onto the floor. To say my life was flashing right before my eyes would be an understatement. I try to push myself off the uncleaned and cold floor but eventually find myself back down. Not because of my lack of upper body strength but because Spaz's has his scrawny but hefty hand forced onto my neck, holding my head down just above the tray. "Spaz. Spaz!" I squirm, and I can tell he's getting off on it. Like my fear is some form of drug. I struggle to recover control over my emotions and begin to tense up. "Let go!" I shriek as the chunky alfedro sauce touches just the tip of my nose. A blue dome suddenly surrounds me and bursts to the remdy of my scream, creating some force that pushes Spaz and launches him into a mob of girls who surrounded me to witness the harassment, and shattering all the glass that use to make up the windows. Everyone embodied with fear, scurried to every corner available as I stayed there, directly in the center, completely unharmed. I couldn't think straight with everyone so close. I caught the attention of everyone, but especially Lucas - who hadn't moved either. His piercing eyes made my heart race even faster. I snatched my bag up from the ground and sprinted past everyone. I don't have an idea in mind, but I knew I'd end up in Melroad. I bust through the front door and run straight for the stairs. I swing the door to my room open and completely ignore Belle's existence. "Josh? Joshua!" I hear her yell. She immediately stopped folding the laundry in front of her and followed after me. "I'm fine." I brush her off and continue rummaging through my drawers. But that didn't stop her from bugging me. "I said I'm fine Belle! Just get out!" I slam the drawer shut. "Whatever you want." She mutters softly, too kind to lash out at me the way my mother would have - if I told her to get out that night. My backpack only held one folder and about three pencils, so it wasn't hard to make room for my clothes. Without taking a single chance to think, I bolt down the stairs and out the door. I didn't care to turn around and acknowledge Belle for me from the doorstep. I wasn't exactly running so I could hear just fine, I was just in such a hurry to get rid of that dumb rock and possibly of myself too. I put a hoodie on to cover my arms that shivered from the drafty breeze that smacked me in the face. I walked past a group of girls, talking about school being evacuated because of the scattered glass and fallen ceiling. I hold my head down, hiding that it's me that had passed them and turn the corner into an old alley behind the plaza.
As I walked along the wall of the pawn shop, panting, I turned to the sound of someone's loud voice. "Hey!" I heard again but couldn't seem to spot the source. I turn back. "Josh!" I turn again, and Lucas, who I hadn't noticed before, is standing over a car with the hood propped up. "It is Josh, right?" His voice relaxes. I shamelessly turn back and continue to walk. I had no time for small talk. "Josh!" I hear one more time, in a lower octave. I stop in my tracks, not responding but certainly reacting. I felt a shudder zap down my back. My eyes dart back at Lucas, following the sound of high-pitched whistling, and the whole scenery has changed. Like my eyes had been playing a joke on me. The car was blue when it should've been yellow, and the man who definitely wasn't Lucas hadn't been looking in my direction but at the car instead. Chances are I'm going insane - something I didn't have even a slither of time for. My mother had her fair share of issues, mentally and emotionally, and I am eighteen, so that about checks out. I could've been imagining things, but of all people, why would my brain imagine Lucas? It didn't matter. I had all the time in the world to worry later. I race into the shop, eager to get this weight off my back, and I see a man thats about 6'2, has brown wavy shoulder-length hair and blue eyes, fighting with his radio to stop buffering. I don't know what's worse, the fact that he looks like he looks like an aged Matthew McConaughey or that he was listening to Justin Timberlake. I took a box from my backpack and lightly tapped it on the counter for assistance. He held his pointer finger out at me, telling me to wait a second. I had no problem waiting. What ticked me off was his attitude. I size him. I could take him. He couldn't beat my ass even if he really tried to. And to be fair, that's the only reason I opened my mouth to say something. "Come on, man, It doesn't work. Just leave it." He turned to me and looked at me with utter digust like I had just threatened his manly hood. Which I could have. I could have mentioned how his jeans rose up a little too high or how his eyebrows were unsure if they wanted to be high up or so low they almost touched his eye lids. But I didn't. I decided to take a more polite approach. "I just mean that it doesn't seem to be working. Might be best to just leave it alone." I try to relieve the tension, uncomfortable by the way he's staring daggers into my soul. "Maybe you're right." He loses the tense eye twitching. "What can I do for you?" My eyes read "robbie" on his name tag as I tried not to stare too much. "Please take this off my hands." I finally look back up, trying to mask the judgy glare. "I'll give you two-fifty for the box." Not gonna work. I need at least $415 for a ticket to Boston for the night and a ticket out of Massachusetts by tomorrow. "No. No way. I need to return this." I refuse. "I can't see how I can help you." Robbie scoffed. "I need to sell what's inside." I push the box toward him. He flips the lid up and reaches for the rock. I step back just for extras measures. The thing has a mind of its own. "Crystals?" He looks interested. And I hate to rain on his parade, but based on his demeanor, I can tell he knows a thing or two about crystals - he'd know it wasn't one before I stepped even a single foot out the door. "Rocks. It's a rock." I feel bad. He gave me a blank stare. "Seriously?" He tossed the rock back in the box. "You can keep it, dude." He gave me an unassuming chuckle and slid it back my way. That word, "dude," it boiled my blood. "Dude? Come on, just take the damn thing. it can't be any less than your pay here." "What's with the hostility. I can't give you anything for it. Get over it." We shove the box back and forth, and soon my hand falls back, and I hear the loud whistling. He didn't seem to hear it. He shoved the box back toward me and waited for me to pick it up and leave. And I almost do. But the abrupt cut of his radio stops me. I back away farther from the counter, trying to look out the glass stained doors for any signs. You know? A little something to warn me. Let me know when i should start running. I snap my neck to look back, and Robbie is being pulled back. In horror, my feet continue to walk like a duck with backward feet, soon crashing into shelves of things. Robbie's pressed against the wall, arms and legs spread out like they're being ripped from his torso. His eyes filled with terror and such fright, froze over to a pure black. The floor is a sudden ring of nothing and is sucking everything around us with it. I stumble over my feet, trying to slowly leave the shop, but I am staying close enough to see what happens. Pushing Spaz to the ground? Brutal. This? This way beyond what I had seen before. There was no way this had been some ordinary rock. Before, I could even put the pieces together to try and imagine what possibly could make that rock do such things, the edge of it all accelerated. All the plants and old relics became this thing's dinner. It had swallowed the conuter, the dusty floor tiles, and Robbie. I wasn't going to be next. As the hole grew quicker and quicker, I turned my back and made a run for it. I had seen enough. I didn't even care to see if the building was still standing. I ran through the street and almost ram myself directly into a parked car. I look up and sigh. "Are you fucking stalking me or something?" I genuinely ask. He's quiet. Lucas's precision and blonde shiny hair bellied the fact that he was irritatedly intolerable. "Just get in." He vehemently tried to get me in the car. There's a green hue in his eyes because his eyes are hazel, but it's more visible when he rolls them back, like the brown in his eyes are non-existent. "Can you just cooperate." He reaches over and swings the passenger door open. I have faith that I'll regret this later. I get into the car, and he - with no second thought, takes a sharp left turn, throwing me back and leaving me left to clutch onto the seat for security. The lanes are still empty all around the plaza. He takes another turn, straight towards an abandoned brick building. "Woah! What are you -" I press myself against the seat, hugging my knees to my rapid heart. My eyes are closed. The o ly thing I was aware of was the distorted whirr that shrieked as he continued to hit the gas. I had my eyes compressed longer than it should’ve taken us to ram straight into that wall to our deaths. Surely we crashed already, I thought. But I still felt whole. I open my eyes and gasp at what I see. Everything around me looks like an enclosed cave with an architect of this sand like stuff. Like that one scene in Wreck-it Ralph, except darker. The sand was glowing in a way and felt weird on the bottom of my shoe. I'm freaking out while Lucas is as calm as ever.