Other Side

Prologue: Chicago 1950's

"Will, Stop it! You don't want to do this." Ronan's breath wheezed out his throat. His palms were in tight fists which started to swell with sweat drops. He grabbed the fabric of his shirt and ripped it out of his pants, wiping his hands on the inner part so the outside looked clean. Ronan's dirty blond hair inched towards his eyes as his legs bounced, chasing the other boy down the street. "Slow down, already!"

The other boy blinked and slowed down for a second, thinking over the possibilities of what he intended to do. His eyes glinted and his mouth twisted into a smirk. He made up his mind and there was no turning back. It was like a game and in games you don't let your opponent win. You don't give them mercy, and you defiantly don't surrender. Will dug his foot into the slush that accumulated over night, and sprinted down the street faster than before.

"You know you're making the wrong choice," Ronan's voice echoed from behind Will.

The wrong choice...

How would Ronan know anything about choice? About the choice to live freely and move on from what is holding you back? He was a child! Ronan was only fifteen. He was ignorant and didn't know that in a few years, he would be facing the same fate. All Ronan knew is what he was told, what his parents have told him. He didn't know that there were rules, restrictions keeping you caged in like cattle. And sometimes those rules should, would, be broken.

Will shot down a corner and turned before impact into a brick wall. His breathing sliced in his lungs, but he needed to get out of there. He hated how Ronan followed him around all the time. A pest that wouldn't stop biting. He just wanted to be alone, and it seemed nobody could understand that. He wanted his space to do what he wanted. Not what his parents thought he wanted, not what Ronan wanted, and certainly not wanted society wanted from him. He just wanted to disappear and Ronan knew that. Ronan knew that this wasn't just a game. Will had a freakin' backpack smacking against his shoulders. Ronan knew that Will was serious this time and if he didn't stop him now, it would be the last time they saw each other, for good.

"Cam, hurry. Help me stop Will!" Ronan's voice choked out, his eyes shooting to the second level of an apartment building. The light was dim but there was just enough to reveal a dull shadow outline in the blinds. And before Ronan could suck in another breath, Cameron whipped out the apartment and skidded towards Ronan. Cam sped so fast that only a breeze of cold air was a clue of his body passing.

"Help me!" Ronan pleaded with his eyes.

Cameron without even taking another breath, sped down the street like lightening, sliding on the ice. He caught up to the sounds of Will's thumping bag down the path that led to the beach. It was January and the wind whipped cold air through Will's hair. Twisting it in knots, and tangles. But Will had to keep moving, Ronan or Cam wouldn't stop him. He would make sure of it.

"Get out of here Cam!" Will wheezed out, still keeping a steady speed, concentrating on his goal. "I'm warning you, go away or I'll make you!"

"You're not going to get away this easy!" Cam spat, concentrating with all his power, thinking of the promise he made to Ronan to help. Cam's bright blue eyes snapped into a light salmon color. He took a deep breath, letting the air rest in the deep sockets of his lungs, and charged forward towards Will. Cam was determined to tackle him to the ground, to push his hands deep into the sands of the beach that they were approaching. Determined to help.

"I warned you!" Will's voice escalated out. He shot his hand into a fist and pointed in the direction of Cameron who was still feet away. Cameron suddenly fell to the ground as if an invisible force tripped him. He couldn't get up. His body was stuck like he was glued to the sand. His brown hair mixing with the grains.