CLASS TRIP GONE WRONG?!

Demons

Tyler's P.O.V.

I stared at the ceiling of my bedroom. One minute went by, the two, then five, until I had been unable to sleep for the entire length of an hour. This was always how my nights went. No matter how hard I try, sleep always seems to escape me. Each night ends the same way; me lying in bed, turning the small pocket knife I kept under my pillow over and over in the palm of my hand.

Sometimes, I imagine using it. I wonder what it would happen if I did. I inhaled and exhaled slowly. I could never do it. Any time I thought maybe I could muster the courage, I simply couldn't. Don't get me wrong, I fight back, but I'm no murderer. I sighed, unfortunately, with the delicacy of my situation, fighting back would be difficult. Joe would kill me.

That's why I cant wait until tommorow. Just thinking about our plan for tommorow made my heart beat faster and a rush of adrenalin pump through my system. Finally I could get away from my foster parents and my ass of a foster brother, Josephier. For three years I've been living in this hell hole. The death of my real parents forcing me away from my comfortable, loving

home in Massachusetts.

I've been living here in Maine ever since. The only thing that kept me sane were my friends. They understood what things were like for me. The seemingly perfect foster parents who were sickeningly sweet to everyone... except me. It wasn't that they were cruel to me, they just simply didn't care. They denied me everything. I guess its cruelty in a way.

Most of the time I had to find food for myself, or else I wouldn't eat. Anytime I needed anything, I would have to find a way to get it myself, because asking for anything was out of the question. It was like I was living on my own, but with greater danger. The only time I was acknowledged was when I did something wrong. Then my foster parents would lock me in my room for hours on end.

That wasn't what I feared. I feared the only person in the house who did notice my existence. Josephier. My soon-to-be 21 year old foster brother. He definitely knew I was here. To him, I was a walking punching bag. If he was angry about anything, I was the first to hear of his frustrations. Of course, he used his fists more than he talked.

I was sure his parents knew of what Joe was doing, but it wasn't like they were going to say anything. He was everything to them. He got anything he wanted. They would never jeopardize his reputation by letting something like that get out. So I have no problem with the idea of running away.

I carefully tucked the knife back under the soft fabric of the pillow case. I sat up, leaning against the backboard of my bed.

My eyes grazed the plain walls of my catastrophically small bedroom. It resembled a closet more than a room. The walls were a simple off white color bear of any art artwork or color. I only had one window overlooking the woods in the back of the house. My bed was the only piece of furniture in the room; not like anything else would fit. My took up most of the space, and was only about a foot and a half away from either wall. I kept every possession I had in a suitcase underneath the

bed; it wasn't much but I was all that I owned. There were a few different outfits: my combat boots, a pair of kicks, an old photo album, my ipod, and other odds and ends.Sitting beside the suitcase was a backpack I had with all necessities for survival.

Right now, I was tempted to pull out my iPod and silence my thoughts by drowning them out with music, but I knew all too well that I had to be aware of everything. It was to easy to sneak up on someone when they couldn't hear you.

I rested my head against the back board, closing my eyes; I let my thoughts wonder. Just when I was about to daze off, I heard a gentle knock.

My head snapped up and my eyes scanned the room, finally coming to a rest at the window. Cautiously, I slipped out of the bed, eyeing the window suspiciously.

A pale hand reached out and knocked again. I jumped. But then, I saw Sahara peek through the glass. I let out the breath I had been holding. I rushed to the window to unlock it and let her in.

"Jesus! You scared the shit out of me!" I yell whispered as she climbed out of the tree and thrust herself over the window sill. She dusted herself off and shrugged.

"Sorry."

I rolled my eyes,"Fine, whatever. What happened? I asked mentally noting the fact that her eyes were bloodshot and her hands shook. She looked away.

"Nothing." She mumbled.

I let it go, not wanting to persue the issue any farther.