Running From Death

Part 11: Forearms

Lazarus. I hate him. I want to be his friend. I like him. I want my answers. I hate him. I need my answers. I need my answers.

Jeane. I miss her. I love her. I want to joke about boys again.

Mom. I miss her.

Dad. I miss him.

Alex. I miss me. I have changed. I miss me. I have been in here too long.

My flight leaves in two days and I would rather start walking than stay here another day. Everytime I close my eyes I see the creature. Everynight I get less and less sleep. To pass time I started bitting my nails ,and sad enough, I ran out of nail to bite. My first instinct is to start picking at my skin. The skin on my forearms are bruised but that doesn't stop me.

Only 3 hours of sleep, I woke up in a cold sweat. The monster was staring at me and kept telling me it wanted a friend. After multiple times saying this it would pull out a knife and tell me it would kill me. I refuse to sleep.

A mirror was placed in the corner of my room and I walked up to it and examined myself.

My brown hair in a dishoveled bun. My bruised forearms. My tired face. My short appearance. I looked insane. Then again, I didn't care.

Because I was insane.

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In twenty-seven hours my flight was leaving.  I got no sleep last night and my arms are now blue. Other than the pain I felt anxious. I was finally going to see my parents, and Jeane. Home. My face changed into a smile as I started thinking about home.

The sun shining through the windows and reflecting a warm glow off the wooden floor. My parents bickering about the T.V. remote. My own bed. Myself back to normal. Or something next to normal.

I started to stare at my blue arms. Why did I do this? Because I needed to put my focus elsewhere. The pain would temporarily divert my focus off of my insanity. My fingers ran over my swollen forearms; I disgust myself. Another set of fingers appear along with mine. Not feminine fingers like mine, but more masculine. I look up quickly to find an empty room. My arms are bare again.

I bring my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around them. I'm insane. Something is not right. Fingers comb through my hair, but their not mine. My body freezes as someone steps into view.

Lazarus.

He lowers his body on my bed, too close for comfort. His breathing was rhythmic. My arms were being lifted by his hands. I refuse to look at him, I do not feel safe. Pressure is applied to my arms and my whole body reacts to the pain.

"Alex, hold still." Lazarus' words are calm. A blade is pulled from his blue jeans and is switched open. I retracted my arms and leaped out of bed. My body is facing his and I walk backwards trying to find the door. It seems to have moved from where I saw it last. Lazarus steps closer to me and I take two steps back. He starts to take long strides to me, he does this until I run out of room to walk to.

His breath is hot on my forehead.

"Are you ready now?" He questions in a soft whisper. Without him explaining I know what he's talking about.

"Why? Why this?" Tears start to fall down my face. He goes to grab my wrists and I run under his arms. I look back and see him start after me. His arms move rapidly. His eyes are not a warm brown anymore, they are fully black. His brown hair is messy like he just woke up. A scream erupted from my throat and started running across the room. Warm arms wrapped around my waist and spun me. One step back and I tripped. One of my wrists had been pinned to the ground without another second passing by. Lazarus straddled me and pinned my body to the ground.

"Are we going to cooperate now?" He took both of my wrists in one hand and got out the blade again. The blade was lightly pressed on my skin and pressure was released off my body. Lazarus had stood up leaving me on the floor in tears.

"This is fun, hurry home" His laugh filled the room as he winked.

I blinked and he was gone.