Demons Within

Part 1; Beau Jakes

POV: Beau Jakes

Do you ever watch those news stories where some poor, innocent person was in the wrong place at the wrong time causing some bizarre, unfortunate thing to happen to them? Yeah, me too. I see those caked up women in their thirties sob on the television about how their little son Timmy happened to be at a birthday party where a fog machine was used, and how his extreme asthma acted up causing him to not be able to breathe. Then she would continue to say how lucky Timmy was that the birthday clown also happened to be a medic and was able to save her beautiful boy. I wish I could say my story was like that, or even remotely similar, but unfortunately my cynical personality cannot. Not only is my mother dead, but I don't have asthma, nor do I attend birthday parties that involve clowns or fog machines. My news story goes like this:

It was Friday evening, and I had just finished my shift at the most luxurious, high end place in town: the movie theater. Don't get me wrong, I loved working at the movie theater seeing as it entailed free movie viewing, but it wasn't necessarily the number one place kids my age were lining up to work. Late nights aren't for everyone, but luckily I'm not everyone. The chill of the cool september air greeted my face, causing me to wake up a little bit. Seeing as I was saving up for a car, I was taking the heel-to-toe express that night. I was about a block away from home when my vision went dark, and my body became exhausted. At the time I hadn't realized what happened, seeing as it went by so quickly. Within the next few hours, however, I would gain consciousness, and realize the severity of the situation I was in.

*earlier that day*

"Honestly man, I don't know what you're talking about. Pizza is WAY better than taco's. They're not even in the same league!"

I was arguing with my best friend since the first grade, Andy Miller, about how taco's are definitely better than pizza. You see, ever since Andy and I became friends, we connected on almost everything; video games, people, hell even the weather, but one thing we could never seem to level with was our opinion for the best food ever, specifically if taco's or pizza took home the gold.

"Andy," I began. "You'll just have to accept the fact that you haven't converted to tacoism yet, and until you do so, your life will remain one large, miserable, black hole."

Andy rolled his eyes, but nonetheless laughed at me and shook his head.

"I'll get you one day, B, I promise," Andy laughed. "Are you having dinner with us tonight? My dad's making some mean burgers and mom's got some homemade deep fried ice cream!"

"I would," I began. "But I work from four to midnight, so I don't think the theater would appreciate me taking a two hour break for some mean burgers and deep fried ice cream. Thanks for the offer though."

"Hey, no problem. I'll see you around, okay?"

"Don't worry, just look in the newspaper under the arrests. I'm sure my mug will be plastered there in no time." I joked.

With that last bit of dry humor, Andy was off to his house and I was off to work. At least I was until a rather blonde, perfectly put together Willow Harvey strolled my way. One consistent detail about Willow was that her outfit and hair never seemed off. It always seemed polished to a T, as if some perfectly clean godmother brainwashed her every morning while she got ready. It was admirable, really.

"You know, you don't have to stare at me, you can most definitely take a picture and sell it off to the paparazzi urchins." I joked.

"You know," Willow began. "I would say that's a grand idea, but I don't think $1 is going to cover my college tuition, Beau."

"Ouch," I exclaimed, putting my hand over my heart while carrying an incredibly fake expression of betrayal on my face. "That one hurt, Willow Rose."

I saw Willow's cheeks turn crimson at the sound of her middle name rolling off of my tongue. Shortly after, she shook her head while smiling to dismiss the thought.

"So, what is the infamous Beau Jakes up to this evening?" She asked.

"Well, if you must know, the luxurious local theater happens to have my name on their schedule from four to midnight, so I thought I better show up to be polite."

She laughed, "Good idea. Mind if I stop by your place after you get out? I know it'll be late but it's kind of important."

You see, to most seventeen year old boys, the idea of having an attractive girl sneak over to your place after midnight was a no brainer, and most guys would kill for it. I wanted nothing to do with it. Not because I didn't like Willow or because I had better things to do, but because I was embarrassed. I was embarrassed to let a girl as perfect as her see what my life consisted of. I didn't want her to put my address into her phone only to arrive at some crap-hole trailer, littered with beer bottles and scumbags who knew nothing but cuss words and how to deal drugs without getting caught. I didn't want her to see my sister sleeping on a mattress placed on the floor in the same room as my bed. I didn't want her to realize that I called a sleeping bag and a pillow lying on an alcohol stained floor my bed. I didn't want her to put this pitiful label on me, nor do I want you to. You need to save your pity for someone else, someone more deserving.

"I don't know if that's such a good idea, Will. My sister will be sleeping and I don't want to wake her." I lied.

Willow's face instantly sank.

"Oh, that's okay. Maybe another time." She said quietly.

"Well, I have to get going to work, so I'll see you around?" I asked.

"Yeah, see you around."

I couldn't help but feel the sting of guilt and regret in my heart after Willow left. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt her, but allowing her to see how I lived would hurt her even more, and I had to remember that. After all, it was just me in this world carrying myself. And so, after eight hours of "Enjoy your movie", that brings our story up to speed, and leaves me off in the arms of a stranger who wasn't all so strange, yet more so disturbed.