Fighting Thrasher Jones

{1} Silent Scream

The cold bite of the metal park bench made me wince the instant my cheek came into contact with the frozen makeshift bed. Relentlessly whipping me with its sharp gusts, the wind icily stung my numb face, infiltrating through the tears in my clothing unfit for the harsh temperatures of the winter weather. I hissed, bringing my knees tighter to my chest in an effort to bury my face from the howling wind.

Flickering above me was a lonesome shattered lamppost hanging haphazardly toward the street as if providing light was a burden when the darkness was overwhelmingly closing in. It lacked warmth and I couldn't be sure if I'd been thinking about the lamppost or my heart when my teeth had begun to shatter and my lips became chapped.

Wracked with terrorizing chills, my body shivered uncontrollably as I huddled deeper inside the thin jacket two sizes too small for my skinny frame. As if I could block out the cold by closing my eyes, I tightly squeezed them shut only to reopen them when a pair of red bloodshot eyes danced behind my eyelids as the owner crazily wielded an empty wine bottle as a weapon.

Wishing I could've taken more of my belongings with me, but knowing that I'd had to have left as soon as possible, I bit my lip in anger. Bitter iron filled my mouth and I jerked upright into a sitting position as I spat a wad of blood onto the cracked concrete sidewalk beneath the bench I'd lain across.

Swiping the back of a hand across my undoubtedly purple lips, I failed to hold back the tears brimming on the edge of my eyelids that threatened to spill. If it weren't for the wind thief stealthily stealing any moisture in my eyes, I knew I would have been overcome with tears.

Clenching my fists, I sat rigidly as I forced the haunting images of my drunken boyfriend from my mind.

I just want to die. No one would care-

The painful thoughts were abruptly interrupted when a nearby shout raised the hair on the back of my neck.

"Drew!" He bellowed, "Where are you?"

Immobilized, I willed my legs to move to no avail. The voice had run ice through my veins and I could no longer move as a figure stepped from the shadows, occupying the narrow space of light diligently offered by the fading street lamp. As if he had dashed out after me, Jackson stood in his cut off t-shirt in the middle of winter, breathing heavily as plumes of hot hair rushed from his mouth.

His stormy navy eyes darkened, narrowing on me as his lips pressed together in a straight line with barely constrained rage as his nostrils flared. I didn't have the chance to defend myself before his arm snapped out and his hand was clamped tightly on my bicep.

"Jackson!" I yelped, forcibly prying his hand from my arm. "Let me go!" I desperately shouted, failing to escape his trap as his hand tightened harder on my upper arm.

"What do you think you're doing?" He growled dangerously close to my ear as he heaved me off the bench. Struggling in his vice-like grip, I threw back an elbow and winced when it connected with a sickening crack against something solid. The unmistakable sound of bones shattering echoed in the otherwise silent night just as the hands on my body loosened and I tumbled to the ground in a heap.

With dark hair strewn across my face, I shot a look up at Jackson who cursed, pinching his nose as a steady stream of blood gushed from the wound. Practically leaping off the ground, I had enough time to take a few steps before Jackson's arms were on me again. His eyes were churning a murderous blue which were made all the more frightening with blood glistening on his face.