Behind these walls

Fate

I've always been told that everyone has their inner demons. The voice in the back of your head that makes you question your own sanity and judges every little move you make. But doesn't that make you the biggest judge of you? Not if you're me. Mine are alive and walking, concealed as my very own father.

I wake up to a figure in my room cloaked into the shadows of the wall. The moon casting a faint ghastly glow through a peak in my flimsy curtains, giving me the light I need to be able to recognize the broad shoulders of the familiar silhouette. My father walks up to where I lay submerged by large blankets in my bed, as sweat begins to roll down my back, the sensation all too familiar as the feel of blood. He cracks his knuckles and fingers, one at a time and I anticipate the worst is coming. Cowering further into my bed I shut my eyes until I see stars and wait for the first punch. I wait for the pain to start electrifying my body and shoot up through my veins until I can't stand it anymore and shut it out. I wait for my muscles to strain at every movement I make, to scream out in agony from the slightest of movements. But the moment never comes. Opening my eyes, I scan the room for my father but don't find anything, apart from an empty room and the door wide open, sending rays of light into my bedroom. I let out a long breathe I didn't even realise I had been holding. Relief floods out of my body and I sink further into the mattress.

"Go away." I yell as I start walking even further towards my locker, hoping he couldn't catch up. But of course he could, he does Athletics twice a week.

"No, Clara. Can you just stop for a minute and talk to me? Is that so much to ask?" He grabs at my wrist with his icy cold hands and pins it in a steel grip, stopping me from exiting this conversation I so didn't want to have. Looking down at his skin touching mine, anger boils in my stomach and I mentally scream. With strength I didn't even know I had, I yank my arm out of his.

"After what you did to me, it is too much to ask. Just leave me alone, Kylen, I'm not in the mood for this. Piss me off one more time and I will not hesitate to introduce my foot to your boy parts, okay?" Kylen opens his mouth to speak but before he could, a new voice cuts in, stopping him from saying anything else.

"Ladies, ladies. Whatever is happening? You're making quite a scene." Ryland looks me dead in the eye and I look around, noticing for the first time that crowds of people have stopped their conversations to listen to the drama happening between Kylen and I. I turn my eyes back to Ryland's and perceive that his gaze has turned to shooting daggers towards Kylen. I know they used to be close, until after Ryland's party. I never found out what happened between them, but from the look they gave each other, it must have been bad. The bell for 3rd period rings and I begin walking away to class, catching the last of Ryland and Kylen's conversation. "Sorry, but we have to ditch." Ryland says.

"Ditch me? You can't ditch me. I'm Kylen Rivera! I ditch others."

I roll my eyes at Kylen's remark and saunter away. He was right about ditching others I thought. I get to class just as the bell rings, followed by Ryland who takes a seat next to me. Mr. Cole stares icy daggers at us and we both mumble an apology to him. Ryland looks down at where my hand is wrapped around a pen, ready to take notes.

"Your ring. It looks beautiful on you." He smiles and his eyes sparkle with happiness. His features change from tensed to relaxed.

"Oh, thankyou." He nods and turns to face the whiteboard, where Mr. Cole is spitting saliva from the passion of his lesson. The rest of History class is just quick note-taking, aching the palm of my hand immensely. When the bell rings, I pack up my books and walk out of class. Walking towards my locker, I become aware of another body close to mine. I look over to the side and see Ryland matching my stride.

"Let's sit together at lunch. Just me and you." The faint glow of the lights makes his face shine.

"Hey, Ryland!" We both turn around at the sound of his name being called and I see two older boys barging through the crowd heading toward us. They get close enough to us that I notice the boys look very similar to each other. And not just each other, but Ryland too. Same brown hair and face shape. They all have the same olive tan, which makes me wonder if it runs through their DNA. Bicep muscles bulge out from both of their t- shirts.

"Asher, Beau. What do you guys want?" Ryland's voice lases with confusion and his left eyebrow raises.

"What do you mean, little brother? We wanted to meet the pretty girl who actually managed to stand you for half a second." One of them in a light blue shirt says and grabs Ryland in a headlock, ruffling his hair. The boy snickers and releases Ryland. Ryland returns a fist to the boys shoulder but smiles. The boy turns to me and says, "Hey, I'm Asher and this is Beau."

"I can speak for myself, Ash." Beau challenges and shoves Asher with both hands. I notice that Beau and Asher both have turquoise-blue eyes, unlike Ryland whose eyes are the colour of a dark chocolate.

"If you want to speak to the pretty girl with a voice that still hasn't hit puberty yet, then go ahead." Asher shoots back and steps behind his brother so that Beau is face to face with me.

"He's just kidding. I hit puberty years ago." Beau smiles and I hear a distinct cough and the word 'liar' behind him. "I'm going to kill you, Ash!" Beau turns and Asher takes off running down the corridor with Beau close behind him.

"And those," Ryland sighs "We're my idiot twin brothers."

"Huh. They seem... friendly." I spit out, not knowing a good word to describe his crazy brothers. At least I know who the sane one in the family is.

He snorts. "That's debatable." Running his hand through his dark brown hair he asks, "So, lunch?"

"Yeah, lunch."

I laugh at the story that Ryland is telling me, whilst we sit at a stone bench engulfed by the beautiful backdrop of lush green grass and blue horizon.

"No way! So, you actually did it?"

He snickers. "Yeah. Ash told me he was really good at balancing a glass of milk on the top of his hands on a table. When he dared me to try it with both hands, I accepted the challenge. By the time he put a full glass of milk on both of my hands, I realised the prank. He walked away and I sat there for an hour before I finally couldn't take it anymore and scratched my elbow. I had milk all over me." We both laugh, him at the memory and me at thinking that Ryland actually fell for it.

"How old were you?"

"10. The twins were 11 and Beau even set up a hidden camera to film the whole thing." I laugh even harder and my stomach begins to hurt. I haven't laughed like this in a long time, and you know what? It feels good. The bell rings from period 5 and my good mood slowly disappears. I didn't think I would enjoy being so close to someone for a change, but I do. It feels nice to be noticed- and in a good way.

After school finishes, the walk home seems to take no time at all as my head is deep in thought of Ryland. At the intersection, the pedestrian light goes green and I cross, each foot in front of the other until I hear tyres shrieking. I look to my left and a black car comes speeding towards me, the driver's feet hard on the brake because of the piercing screech that only gets louder and louder, pulsating in my ear drums. I feel a hard thud in my ribcage and suddenly, I'm flying. Soaring high through the air, cool breezes of wind on my neck, on my figure. The happiness lasts only for a second, until my wings incinerate and I fall to the ground. I lie on my stomach on the hard bitumen floor. My eyes glaze over and I can't focus on one thing at all, like a rip in time is happening. The smell of rubber clouds my senses to the point where I feel I may be sick. I don't feel any pain at all, just numbness until the pain crashes into me like a tidal wave on rocks. My bones feel as if they are protruding from my flesh. My head hurts like crazy but I slowly feel my body going into shut down mode. My eyes focus long enough to see a man get out of the car, although I can't make out any features. He sees me, runs a hand through his short dark black hair and swears.

"Shit. Shit! What am I going to do?"

The voice sounds familiar, but I'm not quite sure who it could be. With the last ounce of energy in my body, I try reaching out to him. My arm protests at the sudden movement and drops back down. I try breathing big breaths, but slowly, the air refuses to enter my lungs. The man looks at me one more time and notices my pleas for help. He shakes his head, not at me, I think but himself. He eases back into the car, reverses away from my body and passes by me, to the side. He left me here. That's all I can think of. The man left me here, with nothing. I'm on the brink of death, but without his help, I know I am going to die. Suddenly a name comes to my fazed mind. I know who he is.

"Kylen." I whisper.

And everything goes dark.