Infection (1)

Chapter One

Let's see now, where to begin... Hmm. I don't see this story starting with your cheesy and typical "once upon a time..." since "Once upon a time" is usually the beginning of fairytales and happy endings. This isn't a fairytale. I remember the start of all this as clear as can be...

"Walker," my dad was pacing around our living room, shuffling his feet along the gray carpet, his hand running through his wavy brown hair and scratching the light facial hair decorating his face. "I know things have been difficult since your mother went to the hospital, but there is no reason to act out to this much of an extreme. Don't you realize what kind of effect this could have on your life?"
I looked at my dad with a blank expression, then gave my response. "Well it's helped me sit through this conversation so far, so hopefully it goes up from here!" When he looked at me he was clearly upset. My dad wasn't the kind of guy to get extremely mad at things, but whenever I got an attitude or sarcastic with him, that usually tears it.

However, this time he kept his cool...

"Walker, this is never, ever, never ever, ever the way to go. Where did you even get this idea that it's okay? Was it friends at school? This stupid rivalry you have with Axel?" Oh, he just had to bring up Axel. Axel was my ex-best friend and high school athletic rival. We both tried out for the schools hockey team. I made Varisty as a freshman and Axel... well, let's just say he wasn't very happy with the outcome. But, he isn't where I got the idea to do this "life altering decision". Where did it start? Well, that was a good question.

I guess you can say my rebellious behavior started a few months before, when my mom had fallen ill. The doctors had said it was brain cancer, and she was sent off to a special hospital, states away from our loving home of Illinois, to get treatment. That was when any events of my negative behavior started. I loved my mom. She and I were very close, much closer than my dad and I. Don't get me wrong, I loved pops. Dad was great and I couldn't have asked for a better father... But nothing came close to mom. Mom listened, dad shrugged. Mom advised, dad shrugged. My dad may have been the working person in the family, but my mom was the one who did her duties perfectly. So having her gone was bound to upset me. Could you blame me? So that day, my first real sign of acting out, was a mistake, but not even that big of a deal.

I smoked pot. Just once, just to see what it was like. I thought it would help the pain of losing mom go away. It didn't. However it's great for getting through lecture time with Dad. "I don't know. It just sort of happened. I didn't even like it. No need to get all wiggy."

"Enough with attitude, Walker!" My dad suddenly exploded with white-hot rage. He went on yelling, spittle flying from his mouth. "I'm sick of this damn mindset of yours! You know, the one where you think you're better than me and think you get to talk down to me? Who do you think you..."

"Stop dad... please. Just stop. I don't want to fight and end up losing the relationship with the only other parent I pretty much have." And with that, I exited and headed up to my bedroom.

I sat at my desk just thinking. I didn't like fighting with my family. I wasn't the cliché teenager, because in all honesty... I loved my family, both my mom and dad. I spun around in my chair and scoped my room, thinking about all the stuff cluttered... stuff that they bought me. Like the hockey stick in the corner. My dad gave that to me after I first saw the Chicago Blackhawks on TV. That was the moment I decided hockey was the coolest sport in the world. Dad surprised me with it on my eighth birthday and took me to the ice rink the next day. I remembered batting the puck around and learning to ice skate at the same time, which wasn't easy.

But with the hockey stick, come some bad memories too. I started to play competitively as soon as I hit high school. I was on the team along with my rival, Axel whatever-his-last-name-is. It was near the end of the game, and even though we were ten points ahead, Axel wanted to show off. He went to get hit the puck, and it went flying straight for my mouth. But the way I had my stick angled made it just hit the blue plastic blade and break the hit. That stick stayed with me through thick and thin, man.

After a couple of hours, I had decide to go talk to dad. The conversation didn't end in the best possible way, and I want to re-tie some strings. I headed for the door and bumped into my hockey stick, knocking it down. I sighed in frustration, picked it up, and put it over next to my bed to avoid knocking it down when I come back in. I trotted downstairs, eager to repair my relationship with pops.

"Hey dad, can I talk to you?" No answer. I walked down the rest of the stairs and headed for the kitchen to see him staring out the front door. "What's up...?"

"There's a boy outside," he said. "He looks very lost and confused." I walked up beside my dad and took a peek. He was right. There was a boy who looked like he didn't have the sense god gave paste to move. He stood in a raggedy hoody with his back kind of hunched over. I checked the time. 11:32 at night. What on earth was that little guy doing? He looked to be about twelve or thirteen years old with shaggy hair that ended just above his eyebrows.

Dad opened the door and we stepped outside. "Hey buddy, you lost?" My dad asked him. As the boy started to turn around, we realized it was a girl with shorter hair. Her facial features shown were gaged ears, smooth face... and blood pouring out of her mouth. "Holy shit..." dad ran up to her screaming, "Oh my god, are you okay sweetie?!" He knelt down to get to her level. "Are you okay, do we need to call the doctors or..." and without warning, I kid you not, the girl grabbed ahold of my dad's ear with her TEETH and bite a chunk of it off. My dad dropped to the ground, grabbing the side of his head, and screamed in agony as she chewed, swallowed, and started screaming crazily.

"Holy hell!" I shouted and sprinted over, ramming into her and knocking her down. I grabbed my dad, blood going everywhere, and tried my hardest to get him back to the house. I got him up on his feet and we started heading for the door, but the girl got up and darted after us. I ran in a full on sprint, shoved my dad through the doorway, and jumped in myself, shutting the door behind me just in time. I locked it instantly.

I rushed to my dad who was bleeding torrents of blood all over the kitchen floor. "Okay dad, calm down, hold up." I ran to the bathroom, slipping on his blood, and got linen bandages and tape. I hurried back and wrapped the bandages around his ear and taped it down.

"Call the police," He shrieked and cried out in pain. I got up and ran to the phone and rapidly dialed 911.

No answer.

"Dad, they aren't picking up... dad!" He gulped and started breathing heavily.

"It's okay, Walker. The pain is fading. I'm going to go to bed, and we'll try again in the morning. Goodnight, I love you," He slowly got up and slumped up the stairs.

It was 2:22 in the morning, and I was lying awake processing what just happened. The most unexpected thing just happened and I still couldn't wrap my head around it. Some little girl, for whom all I know could still be right outside of my house, bit off a chunk of my dad's ear. How did that even happen? What drugs was that little bitch taking? There's a good reason not to smoke.

Then I thought I heard my doorknob jiggle. I sat up in bed and looked at the door. The knob really was moving, shaking rapidly before finally turning and slowly opening. There in the doorway was a silhouette of my dad, just staring at me. I spoke first:

"Dad...?" I asked cautiously. My dad responded. But when he did he did something I never heard my dad do. Never thought he would ever do to anyone, let alone me.

He growled at me.