When It Starts

Chapter 3 Part 1

The cold air pushes past me as I lower myself down. The hard brick walls balance me as slip past. I think back to my memory and I become claustrophobic. I move my hands quicker and I hear a creak. I imagine the tears falling on my cheeks and my heart begins to pound. A sheet of sweat forms on my face. I'm jolted back into reality by the plank thudding, announcing my arrival. I push against the wall in front of me. Nothing happens. I try again. Nothing. Then I remember. Chare changed the locks. I sigh with annoyance and smack the wall behind me. A brick caves in and I readjust my sitting position. I squeeze my hand inside. A revolting, slimy texture reaches my fingertips. I grimace and press forward. A rancid smell springs out. I lunge my hand forward and grip a metal object. I pound it against the bricks. My eyes are watering and the smell turns to a taste in my mouth. Sweat glazes onto my forehead and my breathing picks up. I hit the bricks harder, and harder. I can't breath anymore. The air is stale and unmoving. The brick finally shuffles to the side. I shove my hands through the whole and I see lights on the other side. A blast of fresh air fills my lungs. The brick dematerializes and I stumble out. I suck in oxygen like I was just saved from drowning. A hand lays on my back. "You alright there?" I look up to see Chare leaning over me with a smile dancing around her features. I look at my hands. A green substance sticks to my fingers and Chare hands me a cloth. "What is this?" I ask wiping my hands. "It's for intruders. Only Lost Boys would be determined enough to stick it through." Chare replies. "Yeah, okay. But what is it?" She grinned. "Diluted silly-putty." I laughed. "And the smell?" I ask. "You leave silly-putty in a dark, moss covered wall and see if you get it to smell like flumming roses!" She replies defensively. I stood up and look back. The bricks are being placed back by Brick Workers. I give the cloth back to Chare and she tosses it over her shoulder, completely oblivious to its landing. She places her hand on the small of my back. I tense up automatically and a jab of pain shoots through my body. She pulls her hand back and apologizes. "Sorry." I just nod. Ever since that night, I don't like to be touched. By anyone. I have this mental blockade in my mind. Every time a person touches me, who is unwanted, I programmed my brain to scythe pain so I can't get attached to that person. I tried explaining this before, to Sarah. Who just didn't understand. "That makes no sense." She said, as she reached across the table, smiling sardonically. I sighed. "Every time you touch someone, it causes a wire to attach that person to your heart. The more you touch that person, the thicker the wire is." Sarah looked dubious, but considering my explanation. I continue, "Even if you just bump into someone, it creates a thin wire. If that person were to die the next day, the wire would break. Causing the 'heart-ache' people receive after a death. The thicker the wire, the more vibrations that are transmitted to your heart, which means more 'heart-ache.' "But.." Sarah said in a mock-querulous manner. "But, what if you don't have any wires attached to you?" She asked. "Then you're extremely lucky."I said. "No. You won't have a purpose. You're better off dead." She said. Then she got a phone call and walked away.