The scream on the other end of the phone was frightening, blood curling and chilling. I dropped the cordless house phone on the floor, I could hear my mother and Troy's voice behind me. But none of that mattered as I raced out the house with nothing but my cellphone, dialing Anastasia's number repeatedly but no answer came. My heart raced in my chest as I ran down the street by memory, I tried not to imagine the things the other person could be doing to her and pushed aside my own fear. It was always like this, one week it's Anastasia coming to my side and the next it's me racing to her's. I ran the route I usually took whenever I walked Anastasia home. The house looked like a trailer except it sat on bricks, I approached the small house and the closer I got the clearer the screams. I tossed the door open, rushing inside to see a a toned and muscular boy towering over Anastasia.
Her shirt was ripped, hanging off one shoulder and her bottoms were gone. I could see a red liquid on her legs, trailing up to her swollen and busted lip.
Anastasia trembled, I could see it from where I stood in the door as the boy directed his attention to me and glared. "You the nigga this bitch been with?" He asked, stepping forward. I took a step back, my attention was on Anastasia's battered and crying form but I took notice of his movements. I had to be cautious, the boy was massive compared to me and if we were to fight, he would undoubtedly win. I didn't have a trick up my sleeve, there isn't an "Ah-Ha" moment and I won't just get incredibly strong from some unknown source. This was reality, I could lie and say that the police are on his way. He could fall for it and run out but he could just not care and still beat me up to finish what he started. I looked down at Anastasia, her right eye slightly swollen and the other was filled with fear. "I called the police!" I announced, holding my phone up, "They're on their way right now!". The boy glared daggers at me, looking back at Anastasia and growled, "We'll finish this". He bolted out of the door, I ran to Anastasia's side and kneeled next to her. "Th-Thanks Quin" She whimpered, wrapping her arms around me. He had already beaten her so badly, I scooped her into my arms and carried her out of the little trailer-like house. "That was my little brother...he's gotten so big since the last time I saw him" explained Anastasia, nuzzling her bloody face into my shirt. I didn't care though. "What's wrong with me?" She cried, shaking in my arms, "What did I do to deserve this?".
I allowed her to cry.
"You wanna know why?" I asked. I could feel her squirm in my arms, I glanced down at her and locked our eyes, "We're the forgotten". We were overlooked, ignored and out casted. Children of nothingness, the hopeless and the damned. The truth is we can't chosen our parents, some kids turn out like Marcus Blaine from elementary school with two loving parents and supportive siblings yet he's still an asshole. Then you have the damned like Anastasia Lewis and Quinton Watson, doomed to suffer. We were good people, at least Anastasia was good and sometimes I felt that life was just too cruel to her. She fell apart so many times, gluing the pieces back together in a sloppy manner but it doesn't matter. I use to believe that no one could break more than once but I've watch Anastasia break so many times that I've lost count. "I can't go back home...he'll come back" She stated, her voice trembling. My legs just carried us, I had no clue where I was going but I just knew I wouldn't let Anastasia go. "You won't have to...it'll be alright" I muttered, smiling down at her. I took her to our secret place, sitting her on the tree stump as I pulled my shirt over my head and handed it to her. Anastasia smiled weakly, taking my shirt and pulled it over her head. I went for the first aid kit we hid from the last time, coming back and kneeling in front of her. "Will you forget me?" Asked Anastasia, her words slurred. I laughed lightly, cleaning her lip and shook my head, "How could I...forget someone like me".
That answer satisfied her, she smiled looking up at the night sky and sighed, "It's almost night". I looked up at the sky, shrugging as I stood up, "It's clearer than usual". We basked in the silence, wondering why our lives were so miserable and pointless. Or was it? There wasn't a name for the bond between Anastasia and I. We were just damned and forgotten souls intermingling in our limbo beneath the night sky. My eyes watered, I sniffled turning away from Anastasia. "Quinton, I've never seen you cry" Blurted Anastasia, placing her hand on my back. "No one is suppose to see you cry" I muttered, turning to look down at her, "No one can see you break". She stood up, wobbly and unstable. Falling into my arms, I wrapped them around her and held her up. "We're both fucked up" She countered, wrapping her arms around my neck as she hugged me. It was true, I looked up at the sky feeling the tears fall from my eyes and she shook in my arms.
We cried together in silence, trapped in our limbo beneath the stars.
YOU ARE READING
Dreamland Dimensions
RastgeleQuinton J. Watson use to be a dreamer before his grandmother passed away and he was left in the custody of his estranged mother. He's always had an infatuation with the night sky, using it to escape the nightmare he felt his life was becoming. As he...
