Tales Of The Broken - Watty Award Story

~*11*~ I'm Not Safe Here Anymore...

I don't exactly remember how, but somehow, I ended up at the gym. My feet must have taken me through my familiar path while I had barely been doing anything but focusing on my feet hitting pavement. I could have ran with my eyes closed, I knew my way from my house and to the gym so well. It looked like everyone was here, even George, who was my godfather. He must have left his wife for a little guy time here.

I pushed open the door and walked through the locker room, and to the bar part of the gym - yes, I know, it has a bar, it's bad - where all the guys were crowded around, staring quietly and intently at the plasma screen TV. They were watching the news. The guys never watch the news. I leaned against the doorframe and watched the TV.

"...tragic. It seems the driver of this rare scissor door Mustang was having trouble with the steering wheel in this clip here." My eyes widened when I realized that was MY car, and somehow a camera had gotten footage of my car swerving, when I had tried to miss Four Hundred, and it spinning around. "And then here, it is shown that the driver, who is eighteen year old Asher Lynx, stumbles from the car and seems to be being attacked." The woman looked at the camera in front of her with a raised eyebrow. Oh, bite me. A picture of me, with scars and all, scowling, popped up on the screen. "It is known that Asher Lynx has schizophrenia, a very common brain disease in young males from the ages of fifteen to twenty one. The young lady that was with him, Miss Isabelle Berkley, explained that it seemed like someone was attacking Asher, someone only he could see. Someone by the name of Four Hundred."

How the hell do they get this kind of information? And with this news report on TV, and my picture and name spread worldwide, the Dragons are bound to find me now! Curse doctors, curse police, curse the Dragons, curse Izzy. Curse everyone! And d*mn Four Hundred! He's the one that's going to get me killed, even if I don't care.

"It is unknown how damage could have been done to his arm and leg, which paramedics explain were sprained, as if they were stepped on. We're wondering if maybe Asher had a schizophrenic induced attack and beat himself up, or there really was someone harming the eighteen year old. He was just released from the hospital a few hours ago, and seems to be perfectly fine now." The girl smirked slightly in the camera. "Back to you, Dan."

But something caught my eye and I immediately grabbed the remote on the table and paused it. The woman was turning her head, and on her neck, where she failed to hide something, seemed to be a tattoo. It was a black dragon tattoo. The very same tattoo that the Dragons used.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!" I shouted, repeatedly punching the wall with my left hand since my right hand was still braced. My sudden outburst and the TV being paused made all the guys look anxiously over at me.

"Ash! Breathe, kid," George said hurriedly, coming over to me. He had obviously seen the dragon tattoo on the woman and knew exactly what that meant. He knew they were coming. George grabbed me by the shoulders and shoved me into a booth, grabbed a beer bottle and thrust it into my hands. I drank once when he had taken me out to that bar, passing me off as twenty one - heaven knows how, I look like I'm fourteen right now - and I drank to my heart's desire. So he knew nothing would happen if I drank a single bottle of beer.

"George! He's eighteen and schizophrenic, apparently, you can't be giving him beer!" Adonis protested, trying to take the beer from me. I glared an icy glare at him and chugged the beer back, which burned a path down my throat and made me feel much better. I sighed and slammed the bottle back onto the table, empty.

"I've had beer before," I growled, glaring at the table. "George, this is not good! I've got to move, like, today!"

"Calm down, kid," George soothed, rubbing my shoulder. "We're going to protect you, alright? And you can fight, you'll be perfectly fine. If we get any threats, then we'll move."

"What if they chip me? You know they will," I said, looking up at him. I motioned for Adonis to get me another beer, which he reluctantly did. I chugged down half before turning the bottle in my hands. "I'm not safe here anymore, they're all over America, George. I'm going to go back home and tell my parents we should move to England."

I started to get up, but my godfather stopped me by shoving me back into the booth. I glared at him again and finished chugging down the bottle of beer. Why were we discussing this in front of a bunch of meat heads that known nothing of the Dragons? We were only confusing them.

"Listen, Ash, don't be so rash. You've -"

"No, you listen, George!" I roared, getting to my feet. "I'll be rash if I want to. Remember what happened the last time someone waited for the threat to go away? Did it work? No, it didn't! It nearly got me killed and killed the only thing I've ever loved in my life, who I just recently figured out was a f***ing gold-digger! So don't tell me to listen, d*mn you!"

I slammed my fist down on the table, when pain suddenly lunched up my arm, making me cry out. Growling softly, I cradled my braced right arm to me and shoved my way through the crowd. There was no way in hell I was going to wait! If I had to, I would go and run away on my own. I'm eighteen, I can pass as an adult, I have money. If they won't let me go, I'll go anyway. They can't stop me.

I stormed out of the gym and sprinted away, trying not to think. I wasn't safe here, I HAD to leave. There wasn't a choice. Actually, I should just give myself up to the Dragons so they can finally complete their sick fantasy with me. I don't care what they want to do with me, as long as Eric and Izzy and everyone else is safe. I can't risk them being in danger anymore, I'm pretty sure I'm all they want.

I burst through the front door, making mom and dad jump into fighting stances. When they saw it was me, they relaxed, but worry instantly flooded them.

"Asher, what's wrong, baby?" mom asked, rushing over to me.

"They're here," I whispered, looking around the house for traps. Nothing immediately came up, but then again I'm not good with traps or anything. "The Dragons are back, d*mnit! The lady on the TV was doing the news about my almost car crash, and she had a Dragons tattoo! She knows I'm back, she knows I'm here, and she's going to tell everyone else in their clan! We HAVE TO LEAVE!" I snarled.

Mom and dad paused, looking at me with wide eyes, absorbing everything I just said. When it finally settled, mom rushed to my side and held me close to her, stroking my hair. "Don't worry about them, Asher. They're not going to get you."

I pulled away from her, staring at her with wide, fearful eyes. "You've giving me over to them, aren't you?" I asked, wrapping my arms around myself.

"What, sweetie, no," mom said, giving me a concerned look. "We'd never give you to them, don't think like that."

"I thought you loved me!" I screamed, running up the stairs. How they could do this to me? They were so calm about it; they were definitely planning to give me to them. They were trying to be discreet, which I could see right through it. It was all bull hockey.

I threw myself onto my bed and buried myself underneath of the blankets, trying to remember what I had just done. Why did I think they were going to give me away? They're my parents, they wouldn't ever do that - at least I don't think they would. I groaned and pulled myself from out beneath my blankets and stared at the black TV before me. It was definitely my schizophrenia making me think these things. I mean, my parents would never, ever give me away.

Right?