At Oakwood - Cameron Wilde

10: Worse Than A Paper Cut

"E-Erin..." I stutter weakly, backing away from him, now completely traumatized, "What's gotten into you..."

There was blood cascading down my arm at such a rate that it was terrifying and seemingly unrealistic. It was stinging like crazy, as if I had just gotten a really large paper cut, but obviously worse.

Well, actually, there's nothing really worse than a paper cut. Those things are painful and attack when you least expect it. The amount of hours I've probably spent just death staring at paper cuts on my fingers is probably longer than the time I've taken deciding on what to wear.

But enough of my nonsense, my life is in danger and I'm totally spoiling the mood with my casual blabbering, so let's get deep into the story with no chance of return...

I tried to get away from the great, looming feline. My heart was probably doing acrobats and my stomach was doing gymnastics, which hurt like heck. Probably not as painful as a paper cut but I'm sure it counts.

With every step I took back, Erin took another step forward to yet again close the distance between us. Soon I was pinned to a cold, grimy wall.

I was dead meat.

Rocky on the other hand began to feel faint from such blood loss from one cut. She fell onto her knees weakly. Rocky desperately wanted to help, and just get out of the mess I had dragged her into.

I'm so sorry...

Why did I let her follow me in the first place when all I seem to do is drag people into is trouble and danger?

Why did I?

Why?

It's my fault, it's all my fault. All because I started looking for Erin and not simply our Mathematics class. I bet we are really late by now. My father is going to be furious...

Well, if I ever see him again.

Alright, random break time. Here's a little bit more about my father. He is tall, like six foot something or something, obviously less than Erin, and he doesn't act like Erin either (at all) luckily.

Even in Erin's strange, psychotic, phase right now, he still seems more nurturing than my dad. When my dad gets nervous, he smokes.

He smokes so much.

He's has had bad lung problems and coughing fits in the past. He can be an aggressive man. But he hasn't laid a finger on me. Sometimes I feel like he goes out of his way just to nurture me.

According to my dad, he divorced with my mother just after I was born, but he wanted to keep me to himself. I have a feeling it wasn't a divorce though. I have never ever seen my mother before. There is no pictures, memoirs or footage of my mother in my house. It was as if I've never had a mother.

So then, what happened to my mother?

Alright, unpause, back to the action. Erin had picked me up and held me against the wall by my neck, I was in line and face to face with him. I started to cough and wheeze for air.

"Erin, d-don't hurt us anymore... Please..." Tears start trailing my cheeks in buckets and buckets.

Erin had a full death stare going on there though, and I was too scared to break eye contact with him. But I still fought for my life.

I whine, and try to push and kick him away, just to get free out of my own mess, but I seemed to be too weak compared to him. Especially in a state of such pain.

Erin wasn't even holding me up firmly ! He was strong even when he was acting weak.

I was figuratively a feather at this moment !

A pang of anger circulated me ferociously. But I ignored it completely until it was yet again taken over by fear deep inside.

I squeeze my eyes shut tightly and shiver. Mainly because of his ice cold hands and the fear racing through me at the same time.

I peek at him, warm tears streaming my face now. I wish I could just count to ten and it will go away.

I mean, him.

Erin.

I wanted Erin to go away.

I should just be careful what you wish for. Because at first and I wanted him here and now I didn't.

Erin grins, his teeth shining in the dark, like clean blades, ready to draw out some more blood from my small body. Ready to rip out my organs and devour me on the spot. Ready to completely rip the flesh from my bones. Ready to crunch me up to pulp.

Ready to kill.

His eyes still contain nothing, no sign of a soul. Nothing. Just endless yellow. Yellow, yellow, yellow.

Just yellow.

In fact.

Just gold.

That's when it suddenly hit me...
Why do I still feel so safe? Why do I feel like he is just a harmless friend? I know who this is... It is Erin! It must be! Behind those beaming eyes was some good, somewhere.

I love him! I love him so much! He would never hurt me. I know he would never do such a thing. I bet he'd never hurt a fly! Even though I can quickly counter that with the memory of him tearing at my palm only this morning.

Why would he...?