M o n s t e r

Chapter one

The blow connected to my cheek.

There are things in this world that make you stop, and stare, and wonder. Things that make your eyes look at every corner and crevice, each sharp detail and carefully placed color. Things you see that you store away in your brain to remember for the rest of your life. But there are things in this world that make you want to turn away, to forget that you saw anything in the first place. Thomas Mclain was one of these things, I wish I'd never saw him get hit by his father in the alley behind school after open house, and his head turn the slightest fraction to see me standing there.

I wish things had gone differantly then the way they did.

This was how it was for me that day: I wanted my vision to turn black until I couldn't see anything anymore, until I wilted away on the street forgotten. But Thomas Mclain was not one to forget things, spending so long with an abusive family that it had corroded his heart into something monstrous. 

 Pain exploded through my side when Thomas landed a kick to my ribs then, brining me back from the past and into reality. The pain flared and traveled through my nerves like mini fireworks, reaching all the way down my entire right side before it stopped, then ruptured again when another kick made me turn over hacking for air.

My body was exhausted, a barely functioning entity that could only endure. But Thomas was a seething mess of anger and hurt that had no endurance, frayed and broken like a thread that had snapped a long time ago. Like a pain of his own that never eased, even when that pain was inflicted upon himself. The only way he knew was to hurt. He'd never had a chance at a good life, of friends and family that loved him. So that was why he always targeted me now, every day in school when he purposefully looked around his history class for me in the back seat to make sure I was there so he could find me later and drag me somewhere to beat me.

He didn't say anything as the force of his knee sent me sprawling onto my back, hacking and choking on air and blood. I spit out a glob of crimson onto the cement before Thomas hauled me up by my shirtfront and slammed me into the brick wall of the alley. The back of my head ignited with new pain as the force of the hit reverberated through my skull like some type of sick, twisted music. 

"You think your so much better then me, don't you?!" His voice grated against my ears, just like his fist that slammed into my eye.

"Answer me!" He slammed me against the wall again before throwing me onto the ground, enraged by my silence.

My head throbbed like a steady, persistent beat that tried to escape out of my skull. My body was aching and layered with a sharp knife-pointed pain. I heard Thomas sigh in frustration, pace back and forth with the scuffing of his boots before stopping in front of me.

"I won't stop until you see that your worthless. Your just trash that never got thrown out but was allowed to grow and manifest like some type of parasite." I turned my gaze to see him rake a hand through his hair, his mouth curling into a cruel smile. "Everybody hates you, why can't you all do them a favor and die?"  He practically spit the words out at me, fuming, before he landed one last solid kick to my ribs that drove the air from my lungs. Then he turned and walked away.

When I could no longer hear the sound of his footsteps, I relaxed slightly. I waited before filling my chest with air that instantly made my ribs flare like they'd been set on fire. I steadied my breathing into something normal before poisitioning my hands underneath me and pushed myself up into a sitting position. The movement made my new wounds scream and tear at me like vicious animals, but the pain came as soon as it went, quieting once I rested my back against the brick wall.

Blood seeped through the right side of my shirt where Thomas's steel toed boots had torn my skin into gashes. I pulled my coat around me to hide my wounds, turning the collar up to hide the lower half of my bruised face. Then, using one hand against the wall to help me, I hauled myself to my feet.

The town was quiet, no lit up windows except for a few stores. I made my way through the winding maze of short cuts and back way streets to avoid being seen, but my limping slowed me down, always emphasized by the pain that drove me forward and dragged me down.

By the time I made my way out of the town and onto the side of the highway that led into the countryside, I felt as if I were almost dragging myself forward with each step, my legs were almost ready to buckle beneath me. I was still a long way from getting to my house, and now blood stained the entire right side of my grey t-shirt all the way to the hem, damp and sticky. Everything swam before my eyes, blurring together and then solidifying only to do it again. My head was like an ocean that couldn't grasp onto anything, and suddenly, it began to rain.

lightening brightened the clouds to make them look like silhouttes, and thunder created the bone shaking vibrations that ran through me when a great clap boomed. The drops of rain came pouring down, seeping through my clothes and sliding over my skin to pass through my new injuries, mixing with my blood and slowly turning me numb.

I couldn't focus.

Two, blazing lights blinded me, like white hot comets passing over and through the air, mixing together. I could feel the heat of their light, and suddenly, with a space between the booming of thunder, I heard the familiar sounds of a car's wheels screeching against cement.

The bright comets came so close to me I felt the full blast of their warmth reverberate against my skin like a wave. But somewhere, from the loose existence of my mind, I realized that these weren't comets, but headlights.

The sound of a car door slamming filled my head, and suddenly a figure stood before me, cast in shadows from the lights of the car.

"Are you okay?"

I couldn't say anything, just breathe, try to stay as focused as I could. Ignore the pain running through my flesh and nerves like electricity.

"Wait, is that blood?"

Now, a hand on my arm, guiding me forward. Words were said, but I couldn't hear. I was sinking, slowly, softly, into a numb oblivion.

A car door shut again, and I registered the feel of torn leather beneath my hands. I pressed my face against the glass of the window, exhausted.

Another car door shutting.

"Hey."

I blinked, all the colors and hues of everything bleeding together into one bodiless mass.

"Stay with me." A hand on mine, warm and soft.

Stay with me.