Thursday, October 21, 2010

Round Robin! Round Robin!

Isaac.

I couldn’t breathe. I’d seen him taken, gone through intensive of therapy to rid myself of the horrible nightmares, the haunting feeling of being followed, a lot of good that had done. We’d been walking home from school, the middle of the day. Ironic people think bad things only happen in the dead of night, but it had been a bright sunny spring day. They came at us, the men in the van, it was three to two. He got in between me and the assailants, told me to run. I did.

“Isaac” my voice cracked as I stumbled backwards away from him. My back pressed up against the wooden pew.

“Hey kid,” he stepped towards me bending down to pick up the phone. His voice, melodic tones that had talked me through asthma attacks, been a source of childhood comfort; I closed my eyes, it wasn’t real this wasn’t real.

“You’re dead.” I clenched my eyes tighter and tighter, flashes from that day, from the police station. I’d seen the blood; they’d brought me into the police station, to question me about the abduction, which they later informed me, was murder. I remember the photos of blood spilled on concrete in some old warehouse, they said it was his. That no human could live after losing that much blood, they swore to me he was dead.

I opened my eyes, and was face to face with the one person who knew me, the real me. Pools of hazel stared back at me, a crooked smile slapped across his freckled face. It wasn’t real.

“I’ve got a heartbeat kid.” He reached out for my hand; the contact was a stab to the gut, the familiarity almost painful. No one touched me anymore, I was the paranoid girl, damaged goods, and post traumatic stress disorder does not a friend make. He placed my hand over his heart, I felt it. The calming recognizable thrum that had calmed me on more than on occasion, pulsed through my fingertips sent soothing waves over me.

I sighed, a smile turning up the corners of my mouth. I couldn’t explain it, didn’t understand but it was Isaac, my Isaac.

“Isaac, I can’t believe—”

It stopped. His heartbeat, stopped. His grip on my wrist tightened.

“What are you doing?” my voice was a squeak, the cold air

“I missed you McKenna.” He stepped closer to me; we were inches apart, our noses almost touching. My breath caught in my throat, God I wanted it to be him, wanted it to be my best friend so bad. But it wasn’t Isaac. I slipped my hand into my pocket, returning my Rosary to its rightful place. I lifted my free hand to the side of his face, running my fingers down his jaw.

“Oh Isaac,” tears filled my eyes. I took one deep breath, kneed him in the groin and my hand slammed his face down onto the edge of the pew.

He let out a wicked hiss, I kicked him again, wrenching my hand free I stumbled up onto the alter, heart pounding in my ears. Bile rising in my throat, Isaac, my Isaac, gone, I was mourning all over again, the one brief moment of belief. It was cruel.

I turned to look back, I shouldn’t have, I knew better. Just like how I shouldn’t have pushed away the paranoia. For once in my life it could have been beneficial to act on the fear.

“Stupid bitch.” The imposter growled. There was a soft buzz sound, as my cell phone was crushed, all I saw was a glimpse of electricity, and then blue dust as the plastic was completely destroyed. The monster lifted its head to gaze at me. The hazel eyes turned black, and Isaac was gone. Again. It dove at me, long fingers reaching for my throat.

I lunged for the rear exit, stumbling out into the cemetery. I was trapped, fenced in surrounded my looming cold stones, and the horrors of the night. The cool air nipped at my exposed skin. I stumbled, my feet slipping on the dew covered grass, boots sinking into the pooling mud. My heart choked the breath out of me. I ran towards the moon, it was sinking down the horizon, behind the cracked stones and decaying trees.

I slipped.

****

So I didn't forget about this! See? See? I posted on time!

I'm not sure how I feel about this, I don't do scary very well, it is not my strong suit. So comments? Critiques?

How do you think the story should play out? Post your response in the comments sections! Thanks for reading!

1 comment:

  1. yes! you and ella both...nailing it. i know it's vain to say because it's ours but...i'd totally keep reading ;)

    ReplyDelete