Evils ✓

Chapter VII

Fluttering my eyes open, I saw a blank screen. It was dark gray, not too close to black. Around it was a frame that shined bright yellow, sparkling in the moonlight emitting from behind me. I freed my arms from my chest and checked them. Bruises and wounds surrounded my left arm, the arm I fell on. My right foot was covered in a cloth wrap which resembled a black shirt. The screen flickered, and from it's speakers came an old tune that stuttered with static. I stared at the gray and on came a television show. Excitement flew through my body- I could never afford a TV, let alone cable for it.

I stopped for a minute.

Where am I?

"Lakewood."

I jumped, my arm and foot aching in pain. I let out a little sigh and ajusted myself my position before.

"You heard my thoughts?" I asked.

"The thoughts you clearly stated aloud?"

His voice sounded hoarse, but just enough to have a slight softness to it. He sounded like a young man, maybe not too young to be out on his own, but young enough so that I felt some connection between the two of us.

"I said them aloud?" I questioned. He probably thinks I'm a weirdo. "Are you sure you don't read minds?"

"Pretty sure. I'd never want to do that."

I heard footsteps quietly edging towards me.

"Why?"

I could feel the tension building up. The thoughts in my head swirled in circles, making me dizzier and dizzier by the minute.

"Because then I wouldn't have the time to sit down and hear why you were out of the borders."

I froze, the pain in my body drifting away. He stepped forward into the dim light from outdoors and his soul appeared. He had short curly blonde hair, slicked back with gel and hair products galore. His eyes were glimmering bright blue, matching his masculine frame. He looked muscular, not overdone but as though he couldn't hurt a fly. He was wearing a brown turtleneck, paired with some dark blue jeans. His shoes were shining red, temporarily blinding my sight.

"How did you-"

"Because I saw you there. By the cliff. Bleeding out. I grabbed you and brought you here."

"Where is 'here'"?

He stopped for a second and paused the background music. He inched towards me, and spoke again.

"You're in Lakewood. You already asked this. To be more specific, my home in Lakewood Valley."

"Am I outside?"

I knew he was frustrated, so I ended my remark.

"I suppose I am. So, who are you and why did you bring me here?"

"I saw you by the end of the road. You were passed out and wounded in a pile of blood. I brought you here so you wouldn't die. You're welcome."

When he talked, I couldn't do anything but listen. He was so gentle, and so kind: he brought me here to heal me because I was hurt.

"Thank you..." I dozed off.

He snapped his fingers in front of my face.

"What are you doing here?"

"Oh..." I stuttered. "I ran from these two women who had crashed their cars. They were talking and I did what I did earlier... Think about something and say it aloud instead."

"Why did you run? And why here? Why not to your home?"

He seemed confused. I didn't want to tell him that I was a poor child with no home.

"Because I was mad at my mother. Look, I always wanted to come here. See how it is here. And I didn't run home because I already left. I'm here now."

All this time I never realized I was stripped down to my underwear. There was scratches on my chest and scars on my upper thigh. Bandages marked where they laid. I was cold now, knowing I was open and more vulnerable now.

"Where are my clothes?"

He stopped, probably thinking about something or such, and started.

"In the washer. They're really torn up. I put a t-shirt and some shorts next to you, but they'll be big."

At least SOME decency.