Strange Escape (2015)

Chapter 3

Mason carried himself up the wooden stairs that seemed to be an endless passageway to a blackened hall. Pictures of a seemingly ancient, jovial time were aligned on the wall, where Mason would frequently display a smile and Erica, while still beleaguered, held a frame of positivity, a stark contrast to the monster that she has descended into today. As he passed these pictures, his walk transformed into a slow creep while he glanced at them. They tormented him; the smiles and overall warm atmosphere that these pictures carried served as a reminder of the depravity that his life has suffered since then, w that there was a seldom chance that the triumphant spirits of that time would seldom revisit his life. He froze at one picture in particular; a picture that showed a exceptionally exuberant sight of his step mother holding Mason in the air at an amusement park. A tear found its' way down his cheek and dripping onto the step. With his head held down, he slogged up the remainder of the stairs, and trudged throughout the ominous hallway that produced a rancid whiff of air, and an ambiguous liquid that dripped upon the top of his head. The walls seemed to be embellished in mold and grime. Mason looked around with investigating eyes, and could not fathom how the upstairs corridor degraded into such a deplorable condition. He approached his room, and slowly crept the door open upon arrival. The room was of moderate size, with the walls coated in a light blue paint and concealed on its' surface with a wooden floor. However, miniature red rugs were positioned under his wooden brown dresser, red-cover donned bed, and desk, where an empty goldfish bowl served as a reminder of his deceased goldfish, Charles, who was forcibly drowned by Erica three years prior after he had broken a flower vase that she possessed in the kitchen. Mason slouched along the side of the bed, and his thoughts began to consume his brain, in the only safe haven he had at the moment.

"How did my life become so bleak?"

Erica, drenched in sunlight, took leisure while reading Fallen Angels in her palm-tree supported hammock. Inside of the house, a 5-year-old Mason struggled to find a digital paint drawing he created on Erica's computer. Instead, he discovered a presentation she created for her former career i n the field of fashion designing. Due to his underdeveloped mental, Mason held the assumption that she had been developing a story. Due to the monotonic nature of stock reports, Mason thought that he did his mother a favor by adding exciting elements to the presentation. Lines in the nature of, "projected future stock is expected to increase within the next year" were transformed into, "the dragon flew the robbers to prison and had to stay until next year". The following day, Erica presented her corrupted presentation to her boss and co-workers, and was immediately fired. Even in these days, Erica held an aggressive temper that granted her several brawls with co-workers, decreasing her reputation, leading to those present at her presentation to interpret her circumstance as a joke. With an unorganized combination of rage and woe, she drove her car recklessly along the highway, scarcely avoiding collisions with oncoming traffic. Once she arrived at Riverdale Elementary School, Mason instinctively walked to the car and placed himself in the back seat. Following a minute-length drive from the school, Erica parked her car in the vacant lot of an abandoned gas station and shifted the gear to park. She stepped outside of the car walked over to Mason's door.

"Boy, you really screwed up this time!"

"But step-mommy, I don't know what I did".

"You wrote your little stupid story over my presentation!"

"I was trying to help you, step mommy!"

"Help?! You cost me the only decent job I could ever get in this dump of a city, and you think you helped me?". Erica had been sent to a juvenile hall for assaults at the age of 16, which had narrowed the availability of jobs she could pursue in a city that had limited opportunities.

"Sorry I made you lose your job"

"Those sorries aren't gonna help me get another job and put food on the table, and you should've known better than to mess with my work". She then slid her high heel off of her foot and told Mason, "Lean forward".

Mason leaned towards Erica, trembling in fear of punishment. She held the heel over his head for a few seconds.

"Please don't do that, step-mommy," Mason cried. Tears began to rapidly stream from his eyes.

"Too late now, boy,". The sharp end of the heel began to swiftly pummel against his skin as he screamed, begging for Erica to stop. Blood began to form in his arm from the wounds created by the honed edges of the heel as she continued striking him, avoiding his cries and screams for her to stop. He suffered through a seemingly endless pounding against his skin with the occasional small tears into his flesh, and struggled in his seat as a response.

"You learned your lesson now?". Her monstrous voice seemed taunt him.

"Yes...yes ma'am,". His face and hands became drenched as a result of the tears he had shed.

"Good, and if you pull somethin' like that again, I might do something even worse". She slammed his door and walked off to the driver's seat.

Mason reminisced over  these traumatic memories, and held his face within his hands, saying, "I shouldn't have done it" repeatedly. Suddenly, he heard the distant sound of glass breaking.

"Huh?". He became startled by the noise, unsure whether it was a production of his thoughts or reality. To ensure this, he grabbed his imitation Babe Ruth bat from under his bed, crept out of his room, and cautiously trekked in the upstairs hallway. At reached the stairway, he slowly stepped down each step until he could discern a full view of the living room. Once there, he was treated to the sight of missing furniture, an empty space where Erica's square-shaped television set stood, a broken window, and the sound of a nearby vehicle engine drifting away from his house. All he was able to do at the moment was stare at the barren room in disbelief.