J O U R N E Y (Transformers x reader)

Chapter 2

UNEDITED

It rattled deep within your chest. Your heart felt as if the bones around it constricted around the muscle. It wasn't a regular bang, you noted; the bang echoed abruptly like a bass-booted stereo in the back of a gangster 1990s Toyota Corolla with the shittiest and over exaggerated spoiler speeding down a suburban street. Pretty specific, but extremely nostalgic, you reminisced. It was a singular boom, but too suspicious to shrug away like the late night clatters.

With a deeper scowl, you rumbled, "Fuck it, I'm checking it out." For some inconspicuous reason, your mildly suicidal mind had become drawn towards the unknowingness present out in the cold darkness.

You'd quietly stumbled down the pitch-black staircase and slapped your bare feet over the white floor tiles, and when reaching for the metal front door handle, you paused, that overwhelming, looming and puppeteering thought hovered behind you places an icy cold hand of realisation on your clothed shoulder. I shouldn't be doing this, your inner-righteous-self had whispered gently. This was unusual. You'd never attempted to sneak out, especially this late at night. However, that tiny pool of curiosity had finally boiled over the walls of conformity. Something pulled you out into the dark. You really couldn't tell if it was your morbid enthusiasm to die or something else equally exciting.

The cold air rushed over your arms, your hairs bristled, goose bumps aroused over your skin and your stomach clenched. This feeling wasn't really new, but the feeling of your fingers brushing gently over your garden's leaves with the cold dew daubing over your fingertips was. Crouched over and hiding behind your clumped Gardenia bush, your hazy eyes peered through the greenery to the asphalt street.

It was a bit of a disappointment, to be honest. Yes, there was something, but it wasn't... something. If that makes any sense, You rolled your eyes at your own bizarreness and stood up to look over the small, dried shrubbery and at the object on the road. It was close to the kerb, a few inches away; it looked like a regular rock. Well, if regular rocks had small, glowing, cerulean cracks stretching around jagged obsidian edges. It pulsated, in a way, like a heartbeat. The closer you got the lights grew more frantic.

Confusion was an understatement. You were seriously perplexed.

You kneeled to the ground; the damp grass squelched under your knees unpleasantly. Feeling your toes become engulfed by the softened dirt almost broke you from your astounded trance with the rock. The rock had a figurative hand wrapped around you and pulled you in deep. It was entrancing; you'd practically felt the low, smooth, static humming buzz over your skin like electricity as your fingertips grazed over the obsidian edges.

You felt a little weird. Who would leave something like this alone?

More specifically, what is it?

Curling your hand over the rock, it rested in your palm, abnormally heavy for its size and textured smoothly. It was peculiarly neutral. No hotness or coldness struck your hand; the rock hadn't crumbled around the edges and its lights had stopped pulsating. You eyed the illuminating streaks be sluggishly sucked to your hand and tingled your skin. You considered dropping the rock, but decided against it. It was quite striking and exceedingly enrapturing.

You probably looked like an idiot standing there on the kerb. At night. At precisely 2:43am in the cold and dressed in your flimsy nightwear.

"Ngh!" You grunted as your hand prickled intensely. "What the hell?" You stared at your right arm, noticing your hairs standing tall and your muscles contracting. It didn't hurt, no, it just felt weird. Your eyes wandered back to the rock as your legs carried you back to the open front door. Blackness engulfed your shivering body like ominous sticky goo as you entered the house, pulling you in back to the familiar, dreaded place you so passionately despised. Five minutes outside wasn't enough; this whole little incident only provided you an infinitesimal taste of... whatever this was.

The sensation had faded as you tip toed ungracefully to your bedroom with the rock in your hand. Darkness still enveloped your belongings, your bed left unattended and your canvas blinds crooked. Who knows, your stepmother might've been happy if you disappeared. It's not like she'd want a burden to stick around.

Teenagers were leeches, they'd suck everything from you; your money, your food, your house, your life. This was how things were, you didn't have your full licence, but you knew how to shift gears and drive, you didn't have any friends, but you knew you weren't going to remain any longer; You'd told your psychiatrist that all you saw was a blank static wall if you even attempted to imagine a life after school. Nevertheless, that's beside the point; cancer had taken a toll on you and your stepmother, life had turned to shit and it was all your fault.

This rock wasn't going to help you; if anything, it would only add to your collection of crystals on your bedside table. You sighed and closed your eyes as you closed the door. The bed was cold now too, like your rock, so you wedged yourself beneath the blanket, tightly cupped your reddened hands around the obsidian and closed your eyes to feel the illustrious wave of fatigue roll over your weakened body.

"My life's a fucking joke," you trembled and sighed shakily.