Where do you draw the line?

Go and find the people that you know Show them all you good parts Leave town when bad ones start to show.

A scurry of feet pounded pavement, like a stick to a drum; the beat steady and muted. Two pairs of eyes, two pairs of red hands and one tangled web of lies had these two outrunning life in the middle of the night. Cold as hell, the night breeze whipped against their faces and left the rest of the world behind in a sea of misunderstood fear. Things hadn’t even kicked up a notch a yet, but too soon would the fear that prickled their skin catch up to them; a living nightmare in itself, apart from the terrors they had yet to even sink into. Tap, tap, tap. Their shoes played little melodies in the sharp silence ahead of them; their breathes likes half rests; allowing tiny little drops of anxiety to burst in the moment. Up ahead, the neon red of the railroad crossing signaled their halt as they slowed to let it pass. Each boy shook with the absence of breath; both pale and rigid in their distraught state but so very different in many ways. The younger one leaned over; his hands on his knees as he sucked in deep breaths. His chestnut hair matted to his face made him look that much younger---that much more afraid. One look into his rattling eyes proved his instability thought in any normal state they could have passed for someone innocent. They were green. Clear in the middle and bursting with a radiant circle of gray just around the edges. Dark sunken circles lined each eyes; a hint of the sleepless nights that had passed before the boy, and his wrinkled clothes, now spattered and wet was a cry to be shaken until something plausible spilled from his lips. 

Two steps away, a more sturdy set of shoulders; broad yet anxious in their own refined way shrugged. The apathy was colder there. It ran its course from the tattered Nike sneakers, past the ragged jeans that bore too many rips and tears and up across an identical shirt, soaked with remnants of guilt that was well hidden on this one’s face. Everything but his eyes, anyway. His eyes betrayed him in every sense of the word. The darkness was crucial here. It was the only thing hiding the emotions as they two boys stared at each. The train passed swiftly, only fifteen feet away like memories and actions they would never get back--that they couldn’t get back.

“Joh--John,” The younger boy huffed out. His short breaths cut the name off, muffling his voice and he attempted to catch his breath. He had a feeling this wasn’t the only time tonight he was going  to need this much oxygen. It certainly wasn’t his first. 

Hard eyes shifted to glance at him but the other boy made no acknowledgement to his name being called. Nevertheless, he was all ears--to a certain extent. 

“We can’t--we have to--We gotta go back,” he heard the boy whisper.  “We can’t just leave it the way it is.” Through the veil of darkness and the instantaneous red flashing on the no crossing sign, fear was easily registered in every cell of the boys body. It made John wonder how they had gotten this far, let alone if they would make it anywhere else.

“No.” The words were clear, set as John turned enough to make his statement perfectly clear. “We aren’t going back.”

“John--We have to--”

Eyes ablaze, the older boy latched a hand onto the other’s boy shirt, reeling him in closely. “We’re not going back, Alex.” Each word was clear and distinct in its own way; clenched teeth barely allowing them to pass. Their eyes met slowly, breaths in sync. “Okay?” It sounded like a question, but John wasn’t so sure he should answer it out loud. Okay? No, it was not okay. It was not okay in any clear or vague form of the word. It was not clear in any meaning pertaining to it. There was nothing clear about this situation and Alex’s eyes screamed this with too much intensity for him to handle being this close to John’s clutches. He didn’t say a word of defiance but deep within his gut there was a new twinge of fear that latched itself onto the inside of his skin and spread like poison; fogging up every rational thought he had. He dared himself.

“Why?” He whispered so low he wasn’t sure it had come out coherently. “Why ca---”

“--I told you, we’re not. It doesn’t matter why, we aren’t.” John’s voice rose in volume and he gripped the Alex’s shirt like a rag, twisting it closely to the boy’s neck. “Going back is suicide. When they find out about us, they aren’t gonna let us talk, they’re just gonna rip us apart. We’re gonna go to jail, Alex.” He leaned in very closely, and under the shadows, John’s eyes seemed to sink into his face leaving only two dark holes. “Do you want to go to jail?” 

And this, well, this didn’t make sense to Alex one bit. Not one tiny ounce in his oxygen-less brain, which by the way was crying for a puff of air and soon. He wiggled in John’s hold, tugging his shirt free with one hand while his eyes set coldly on his friends outline. He didn’t like being pushed around. Not by some stranger and certainly not by his best friend, no matter how many offbeat years they had known each other. This wasn’t a good time for either of them but regardless, there was no need to turn against each other during these dark hours. He straightened his shirt with a dignified glare and took a step back.“Don’t,” he growled, his eyes narrowing. “You don’t scare me with your bullshit.”

This was possibly John’s favorite game to play with him. Alex would challenge him, dare him to lift the bar; see how much of an a*****e John could be before Alex realized John was always going to be taller, stronger and more psycho. If the challenge arose, John would happily take it and push it as far as possible until Alex gave up--because it was Alex, and between the two of them, they both knew their place. Oh? John’s head tilt seemed to say. He wanted to let his smile flicked across his lips in question but he managed to keep a straight face. This certainly wasn’t the time or the place--Soon, but not now. It was a struggle to keep himself in check for even a moment’s worth. He turned his attention to the almost gone train and next to him Alex mimicked, both boys watching the remaining cars of the train disappear into the soft darkness. The no crossing sign rose like a hand permitting entrance to what they might find across these tracks. For the sake of it, John had to glance at Alex. Things would change upon this act. They had landed themselves into a mess of trouble and now they were standing at the edge of town, the night only beginning. It would be a long night, they knew. Time wasn’t on their side; time wasn’t on their side. Their own lives had doubled against them. Whatever was left had yet to show itself but come what may, there was only one road and it was all they had. Turning back was no longer an option, Alex realized. It was much too late even if the desire had sparked within him. From where he stood, he could see the top of the meek town past the brush of trees. The city lights looked like tiny yellow dots on various black and grey squares. Being so high above the town made him feel nauseated. It made him feel like he was much too far away, and at the same time, much to tall. He was the giant and that was the miniature city. One wrong move would destroy everything. A long sigh escaped his mouth. Was he ready for this? Hell no. Was it happening? Hell yes. Putting one foot in front of the other might have been the hardest thing to do all night but he did. They both did. Staying was probably the equivalent to committing suicide and leaving was too. This was a lose-lose situation and he was in position to gamble his life so he dragged his feet forward and forced himself to follow John across the railroad tracks. Crossing it was like crossing into another world. The rocks that imbedded the railroad tracks slowly faded from pebbles to dirt to grass in a gradual gradient. 

“What are we now?” he managed to get out. Were they fugitives now? Runaways? Absolutely insane? “Where do we go?” They could start building a little house in the middle of the woods. They’d collect wood by day, and start fires at night to keep them warm. Hunting was going to be a new experience but if the indians did it, they could do it. He snorted at the thought. Yeah f*****g right. Like either of them would last in the woods for more than forty eight hours. John might last a little longer but Alex would give in after two days and start scratching his arms, convinced that he had bug bites and whine about hungry he was. The thought made him stomach rumble. He was hungry now and it had only been a couple of hours since they had run away. 

“I don’t know.” Now he was starting to annoy John. “Stop asking so many questions. It’ll work out.” But then, since when had John not been easily annoyed? In the seventh grade he clearly told his math teacher that asking for homework every night was clearly unacceptable. Mess like that took up his time when he could of some many better things to do. And that sad part? Not one bit of it had been a joke.

“Well,” The smaller boy swallowed but the inside of his mouth passed for bone dry. “We can’t walk forever. And I’ve only got twenty two dollars on me. And you won’t get much for the toothpick I have, either.” Why did he have a toothpick? Not even he knew but he was sure that at the time that he had shoved it in their, their had been a reason. It was one of the very few things he could probably justify if he thought about it hard enough. Everything else seemed too…irrational. Too…spur of the moment. Too groundless. It all heaped into one pile and clung to the back of his mind like a constant cry for coherency.  And he wasn’t down for walking forever either. There was a bed back home calling his name and he knew no matter how many times he turned and tried to go back, nothing would ever be the same. It was just John and him, now. The only other person on this earth that understood him and even that was a stretch. 

When had things gotten so out of control? 

The focus had been lost, it felt, like a long time ago but from any other point of view but his own, things had only been blurry for a very short time. It easy to lose track of what was important now a days. The heat of the moment could sweep a person away, you know? No? Maybe not. Maybe it was just him and maybe there was just no hope. 

Hope was a tricky, you know? People always confused it with faith but the were very different things when put side by side. Faith was more lasting. It was a devotion, belief. Hope was wishful thinking against something; wanting the unlikely. Now that he thought about the two, he wasn’t so sure he had any faith either. Things had definitely taken a 360 within him. Nothing was the same anymore. He wasn’t the same.

The wind was picking up now, billowing like a force, behind them. It carried them forward and drowned out Alex’s sighs to keep him safe from John’s judgment. He, least of all people had that right and at the same time, he was the only one who had that right. Did that make any sense? It did in Alex’s head. But then again, a lot of things made sense on his head. All of his ideas were usually better in there and when got to paper, it all just turned into one big mess. 

He kept fighting the urge to look back. It was so hard for him to accept that wherever they were going, they were coming back. His feet wanted to turn around but his fear pressed him forward and between the both, his head was spinning because he knew either way he was fucked. These were the kind of situations where someone always got hurt. In this case, two had and he wasn’t sure how any of it had really happened but John told him that if stayed there, he wasn’t going to end up well. By now he was pretty sure cop cars were swarming his house in a rage of flashing blue and red lights. He could picture his mother, hair wild and nightgown wrinkled from being woken up in the middle of the night. His father would be sitting on the arm of the couch, head in hand wondering what on earth his son had been thinking and how it could have gotten this bad without him noticing. His little sister would be hiding behind her stuffed bear, clueless as to why her mother wouldn’t stop crying or wailing that her baby was gone while every cop car would be flooding the town in search of John and him. When the sun lit the day, he knew the entire town was going to be in a coma of shock. How else could someone possibly take this kind of news. How would their friends think of them when they knew they had ran away, like criminals? 

The word was easy to throw around, but not so easy to catch. Alex had made mistakes in his life but of all things, he was positive he was not a criminal. He couldn’t be. It would break his mother’s heart. John could say whatever he wanted, that didn’t make him one. If anything, he should have been so angry with John for not letting him turn around but he couldn’t bring himself to say no to the other boy. That’s just the way it had always been. John was the leader, the one who cajoled and schemed and Alex was the one who reasoned and followed. Perhaps this was one of the reasons the two always got on so well. They weren’t in each other’s way. They didn’t butt heads. Like two very well fit puzzle pieces, they completed a bigger picture that no one else could yet understand. 

A cold spray of wind -thrown rain broke Alex’s thoughts, bring him back to the harsh reality of the long walk ahead of them and the sharp breeze that would accompany them. Things weren’t looking up or down anymore. Things looked flat. Bleak. He wasn’t interested in the journey ahead because he was too afraid of what he was leaving behind. There was an entire town behind him. There was a high school football field where they had dominated on homecoming, and he’d kissed Elisa for the first time his freshman year at the dance that followed. He remembered the moment very clearly. They’d been slow dancing for what felt like ages, their bodies barely swaying from side to side. Girls expected guys to say cheesy things that they didn’t mean, and guys expected girls to tell how great they had played that night. He couldn’t remember what Elisa had worn that night, but he remembered very clearly what he’d had on. Black slacks, a black overcoat and a baby blue button up shirt underneath he’d gotten from JCPenny’s. It looked like one of the expensive kind but he’d secretly bought it on sale at a great price. He’d work extra hard to find this shirt; Elisa had insisted that it her dress. When he tried to picture the memory in his head, he couldn’t see her face very well, and the dress was a baby blue blur of haze. He remember the whole time had been torture. He was a terrible dancer and every few moments he’d look down to make sure he hadn’t stepped on her feet. The tension had been youthful, awkward and full of half smiles and shuffling feet. The warmth of her body through her dress against his hand, just at the small of her back had been a landmark. Anyone who looked over would have raised their eyebrows and leaned over to their friend to say “Ooh, look who’s going out.”  He resisted the urge to turn his head back and see if the football field was visible from where he stood. He was rather sure it was. They were high on this hill enough that he’d been able to see the road that spanned out directly in front the school, around it onto the main highway.  The neon red and white sigh of Dairy Queen in the distance was clearly visible. They had spent way too much days after school at that dairy queen. Every single day of almost every month and it never gold old because it was cool, and that’s what anyone who was anyone did when they just wanted to chill. Ice cream and defrosted Chicken strips served on a red and white paper plate with luke warm fries and soda that needed more fizz. What more could a guy want? Across from it, the overhead lights of the Chevron gas station that was always open late at night, unlike the seven eleven, shone brightly and lonesome. He personally liked the Chevron much better but the senior jocks of Wallace High School were usually found at seven eleven. Chevron sat in a space too open to park in the back and drink beer. He was thankful that the thick shadows of darkness hindered his peripheral vision.  His shoulder twitched in anxiety but he kept moving forward, slowly and less willingly then he had moved earlier when fear had driven him. Now the fear was calm�"like a sense of brooding in his chest instead of adrenaline pumping through his body. It was a tiny sickness that he held in his ribcage, a knot that rested against his skin. It threatened to plop into his stomach at any given moment and in that moment, he might throw up if it did. Breathing was not difficult, but it was definitely not enjoyable. 

Elisa had probably not been able to breathe very well when she went down. Alright, probably was an understatement, she hadn’t been able to  breathe at all. Before he’d done it, the thought of offing her had been a living fear, an unthinkable thought, an action so crazy he  couldn’t actually see himself going through with it. His hands had shook forcefully--uncontrollably--and he’d changed his mind so many times he couldn’t remember what reasoning he had used for each option but they both must have been excellent to leave him on the fence that way. She had peeked up at him from where she sat on the couch and smiled the way only Elisa could smile. Something about the way she always blinked when she smiled up at him, her teeth so perfectly white and straight. She had cheerleading teeth. The kind that were perfect for a girl on the varsity cheer team and was used to showing off her pearly whites to make the crowd smile. The kind of smile that either said, ‘Hi, I’m a high school cheerleader, I’m either the girl next door or a total b***h b***h I’m popular either way.’ It never really mattered which one they were, they were always aware of the status even if it was only subconsciously. He often wondered if being so famous in a small town had negative effects on his classmates. It was inevitable for some people. The top jocks, quarterbacks, basketball captains, tracks stars, cheerleaders and such. He supposed everyone died famous in a small town, but some jumped the bar and more so than others. People like Elisa who was smiling up at him, doing that blinking thing she did and shooting him that questionable look that said ‘why are you still standing? Sit down.’ She watched his shake his head casually and shrugged in response then turned back to the t.v. She was too engaged in the movie to try and convince him to sit down. A good ten seconds was all you needed to miss a vital moment in the plot. Chills ran along her neck as he placed his hands on her shoulders gently and rubbed them. 

The motion was obvious under his fingers, she had always been ticklish which may have been why it’d been so easy to get his hands around her neck and not have her notice the pressure change. Her eyes lit up with delight, and she shrugged him away playfully, eager to keep her eyes focused on the movie but protect herself from an attack of laughter. John had told him it’d be a piece of cake and he didn’t know why or how John knew it would be, but he trusted the guy and so it made the motion of gripping her throat a little less fearsome. It was a game to her, he could see it in her reactions and the way her lips went into half smiles like a full smile might take her away from the television and give him too much power. Having her focused on something else was more than he could have asked her. John would be proud that this was going to be so quick, so easy, so painless for him. He wouldn’t have felt anything anyway, the way his hands were so numb. Probably from so much shaking? Actually, it was more like his entire body was numb. His hands were numb and he couldn’t feel the heat from her body against his hands as he traced little shapes across her neck. His head was numb and if thoughts were coherent in his mind, he could not decipher them. Everything that happened, happened on its own. He didn’t recall the action of sending signals to his brain to make anything happen, it just did. His hands just moved and his mind just reeled with nothingness and he didn’t fear anxiety, and he didn’t feel fear, he just was. 

She put her ear to her shoulder, squeezing his hands between them in an attempt to stop him. “Alex, you’re distracting me. He’s about to tell her that he loves her. She might say no....that’d be terrible...” It was like she was talking to herself more than she was talking to him. Yeah, it would be terrible, Alex echoed in his head. Just awful to love someone and be rejected. He wondered if Elisa ever felt like that. Like she loved him more than he could ever love her because it was true, and thought it was never said out loud he figured that there must have been a small part of her that noticed.

 “Yeah, that would be terrible.” He said the words slowly, flatly with no real emotion. He wasn’t sure if he meant them or if he just liked the sound of them, or maybe his mind had decided that added effect to this situation. All three were possible choices. He shut eyes for a second, not because the moment was special, but it because it was so unspecial. It was just another moment, in a series of moment that often led to something bigger. When he opened them, time fast forwarded. His hands on her neck, tightened, not gradually but abruptly, with a certain force. Her eyes opened wide, so far that he when he pulled her body back against the couch, he could see every line of her iris clearly. Initial pain sent little tears to her eyes and made them glisten in the fan bulbs. His face was minuscule and watery in her eyes’ reflection. Elisa leaned sideways, steering away from his grasp and trying to turn her body enough to break his grasp but there was too much strength being put into the hands around her. A sick smile of excitement crossed his face and turned his lips upwards. His eyes were wide and open, eager, feeding off the fear in her expression it had turned to. Her body thrashed from side to side. The possibility of this being a game had been skipped entirely and she’d headed straight for panic. Her hands pried at his and clawed. She slapped at him and pulled forward with unusual force but he the determination in his grip held her in place. Pieces of his name fell from her lips and gasped for air that had no way of getting in. Spit gathered at the corner of her mouth and she gargled at him,  pulling away. Each pull was less powerful than before. Her body was starting to recognize the danger such a withdraw to air was having on her. It was focused on opening the muscles in her throat and she gasped like a fish without water against the seat cushions. A light tint of blue washed over her cheeks and and she stared up at him, her eyes bright and absent. Her body still jerked away from him but he only needed a few more moments before her body shut down and went into survival mode. When her eyes shut, they moved slowly, fluttering away in rhythm with the way her body was spasming. She seemed to draw in a little puff of air before her body became a rag doll being dropped from a child’s hands. Something in his expression flickered, barely noticeable to the naked eye and Alex stared down at his heads, and her pale neck and he didn’t know what to do. His hands were defrosting and he was beginning to feel her skin against his skin. Behind him, John eyed Alex’s trembling hands and stepped forward, away from the arched doorway of the living room. 

“Don’t let go,” he whispered the words so quietly, no one else would have heard even if they had been in the room with them but Alex heard them like a voice on a PA system: Loud--no, booming--and commanding. He swallowed hard and without looking back, adjusted his grip and squeezed harder. It seemed like an eternity he stood there, and nothing in Elisa’s expression changed, her body didn’t even spasm in defiance, but he wouldn’t let go, he refused to let go until John finally came around to the front of the couch and nudged Elisa’s face with his hand. The gesture was a subtle dismiss of what was once someone living. Alex dropped his hands, the blood rushing back into them and spread his fingers out widely. They ached now that they didn’t have something to hold onto. They shook so much as if all the force he had exerted from them was now rushing back against them that he balled them up and put them at his sides. In front of him, John was calming checking the girl’s pulse in various places and then to Alex’s surprise, he smoothed her bangs over and heaved her up to a sitting position. With one hand, he held her limp body against the couch and with the other, he positioned the beige throw pillows against the arm rest. Alex didn’t want to touch her so he stepped back and watched in silence while John flopped her into a lying position and covered her with a small blanket. Despite her pale demeanor, she could pass for someone sleeping quite contently. It was almost believable. So much that Alex had to shake his head to remind himself that no matter the surreality of the situation, it was in fact a situation, and he had just created it. 

He hadn’t even finished that thought when he realized that John had already acquired a backpack and was quickly filling it up with objects. 

Alex wanted to wonder what was in the bag but he didn’t really have much curiosity in him. John walked around him, in front of him, behind him and made him ways across to the room and into the kitchen and the whole time Alex didn’t even sway so much as a centimeter. He was a statue in the middle of the living, positioned at an angle that wouldn’t let him tear his eyes away from Elisa and also wouldn’t let him not notice John. His lack of action did not seem to bother the other boy who continued casually and only stopped for a moment to look at Alex. He dropped the backpack to one side and leaned in closely. His eyes searched Alex’s gaze for something, a hint of his own excitement but he only found trauma. To this, he stood up straight and flashed a smile. “I thought she’d never stop thrashing.” 

   

The words echoed in Alex’s ears, over and over. “I thought she’d never stop thrashing.” 

At some point John finished up his packing and the two of them stood on opposite sides of the rooms in silence before John gestured his head for them to leave. Alex, mechanical and lifeless drudged his feet from their spot and crossed the room past the sleeping Elisa. His body was torn between routine and commands and emotion and feeling. His feet shuffled against the carpet awkwardly as he followed John into the briskness of autumn air. The temperature change was a slap in the face and he snapped his head towards John. “Oh hell, oh s**t, I--I...”

“You just killed her, man,” John nodded with an impressed smile. “You were so good.”

“No, no, stop it, I just f*****g killed her man.” ‘You were so good’ weren’t the words he wanted to hear right then. He didn’t want to see John smile and he didn’t want to go back into the house because there was a nightmare in there, created from his own sick curiosities and everywhere else was a wasteland of fear. He put his arms up on top of his head rocked back and forth on his heels, his shoes digging into the dirt. “She’s in there and her parents are gonna come back and--”

“--And we will be gone.”

Alex put his arms down as if to question this. John grabbed his shoulder, his fingernails digging into his skin through the thin cloth of his sleeves so violently it made him cringe. The two boys stared, the silent conversation only they could have ensuing and Alex shook his head but John jerked his arm harder. “We’re going. You don’t have a choice, Alex. That’s not something you can take back. Game over.”

“It wasn’t a game to begin with,” Alex shot back.

John snorted in a way that made Alex’s eyes narrow. “Call it whatever you like, but you did it and you liked it and that means we’re leaving or you can stay and explain to her mommy and daddy how curiosity killed the cat.” John shrugged with that and started walking, already disappearing into the shadows of  the late night evening and Alex glanced back towards the house. Staying was not an option, he knew it but he didn’t want to accept it so he ran to catch up with John who knew he’d have caught up sooner rather than later. “Just put it out of mind, man. You wanted to do it, so you did it and its done. Thinking about it only going to get you riled up. You need to stay calm. If you f**k this up, we’re not going to be okay.” 

That had been the clear dismissal of any over the top, freak out episodes Alex might have in the future. After that, Alex had followed him silently, only mumbling one worded responses back to him, and agreeing dully. They moved casually for someone who’d strangled a girl and another who had watched pleasantly and the whole time Alex’s one track mind bred more tracks and more and so many until his one track mind was now many small tracks, leading to unanswered questions and frightening scenarios, and thoughts that made him shake more than the wind chill ever would. For fear of his head exploding, he took off into the darkness, the other  boy behind him, matching his steps and just ran. Alex crossed the highway without so much as a glance in either direction and John sprinted next to him, much calmer than someone in such a situation. The silence of the moment kept them running until they were blurs in the distance. 

Now in the pale light of banana shaped moon above Alex stopped in his tracks and turned. Everything he’d expected see shone in the distance and he half cursed himself for looking back. Next to him there was soft shuffling as John pulled out a packet of cigarettes and lit one. Alex cringed at the odor of tobacco pooling in front of his face. He waved an irritated hand in front of him and made a face. He hated the stench of cigarettes and he hated the cold and he hated the fact that he was only slightly worried about dead girlfriend. John took a step to the right and Alex involuntarily followed. Once again, he body was moving against his will. Whether John liked it or not, he was going to turn around and go home. He couldn’t take it. Maybe John could but he could not and he really didn’t even feel like trying. Now, if only he could get his legs to work properly and turn in the right direction. He felt like he was betraying John here, doing this, but it wasn’t enough for him to not want to go through with it. He would just…stop walking and calmly go the other way. If John wanted to join him, he could but he needed help. He needed someone to hit him, someone to yell at him and question anything and everything about him--even just his thought process.

The young boy hesitantly slowed his steps, eyeing his friend the entire time; desperate to keep his actions calm and casual. He was a whole two feet behind him and had turned the other way when heavy hands roughly pulled him back, making him stumble a few feet. Eyes blazing and jaw clenched, John grabbed him by his shirt again, as if silently pointing out who had the upper hand if they were ever to spar. Alex stared up at him in silence. He didn’t know what to say or even if he wanted to say anything. It seemed like if he so much as opened his mouth, John would immediately smash him into the ground.

“Where were you going?” 

The calmness of John’s voice was a tad bit frightening but Alex knew if he wanted to do anything, he was going to have to do it by force. He couldn’t keep up this charade; this farce that he didn’t care when every single ounce of him did cared. Every single molecule in his body cared so much that he would fight John if he had to. “I’m going home.” He said quietly, swallowing the dryness in his mouth. His heart rate picked up some speed and he realized the only time he’d felt any fear that night was around John. 

“Oh, you were going home?” John repeatedly. “And then what? You were going to celebrate?”

“Let go of me, John.”

The taller boy gripped Alex close. “You listen to me, you sick freak. We aren’t going back.”

“You can stay if you want,” Alex gripped John’s hand in an attempt to pry it off. “I’m going home. Let go.”

Yes. He was well aware of the tension building under John’s fingers and even more so, he was aware of the short temper John had. It wasn’t going to help him at all now. A few years back their buddy Mason had come over and brought his puppy, noodles. He’d walked and set the little ball of fur on the floor and it had immediately started jumping on everyone. John gave it a detesting look and ignored it. Once dog couldn’t possibly do too much damage. The three of them were in the other room, talking and the next thing they knew, the poor animal had found its way to them and peed on John’s shoe. He’d just been standing there, talking and shifted his foot to feel it slide against the linoleum floor. His eye twitched a little. He must have known it before he even saw it, and when sight confirmed it, John stared at the puddle and then at the dog and lifted his foot. If Mason hadn’t realized what was going on, that Dog would have been broken for life. Needless to say, Mason didn’t come over as often after that. Alex was sure he was about to feel like Noodles. He internally cringed and waited. He was utterly surprised when John let him go, shoving him back some.

 “Are you trying to get us killed?” John’s grim look had transformed itself into a snarling glare. 

He couldn’t believe John was even asking that after just witnessing him earlier.

“No! I just wanna go home!”

“Well, you can’t go home! You think they’re just gonna welcome you back with open arms when they realized you kill her? You’re f*****g crazy, Alex. If you go back their gonna stick your a*s in prison.”

“Then why are you here?”

“Who else is gonna have your back?”

“You mean like you had my back when I killed Elisa? Where were you then, friend? Why they hell didn’t you have my back then? You just stood there and let it happen and you could have told me to stop!”

“Because you listen so well? You wanted to kill her, I saw it on your face. Far be it from me to stop you.” 

“But so be it that you can encourage me on.” 

They were, as Alex had learned in his word of the day calendar, at an impasse. The smaller boy was torn by his need to follow John to whatever ridiculous adventure he cooked up next because that was what they did, and wanting to feel something--anything--other than the need to obey commands like a dog. There was something very wrong him and he was fully aware of it, thought he couldn’t tell you what it was. He couldn’t think of another time in his whole life, in his entire span of knowing John that he had ever defied him but it had never felt so wrong until this moment. He needed that Chevron station and he needed that crappy post office that only ever had one person working at a time and he needed to be hated, to be detested for what he had done. He needed to actually feel something other than obedience and flat emotions that were only the barest wisp of what people felt in a second. He needed to feel something other than emptiness. “I won’t say your name.” Alex forced the words out and turned.

 He began with feeling the air whip against his face and the earth crumbling beneath his sneakers and he raced down the hill and away from John, away from the only person who ever seemed to understand him. He felt fear spread in his chest--real fear, not diluted fear, or instant fear, but a fear he knew was going to stay with him for a long time. He felt the guilt and the sound of the wind carrying John’s cries past his ears but he did not feel John following him. He ran and he ran hard, past that post office, past that Chevron, past the dairy queen and past various streets until the dimly lit police station faded into focus and then, when he thought he might not have any oxygen left in his lungs, he felt the glass against his hands as he pushed the front door open and stumbled in. 

Author's Note

So this was a short story written for fiction writing class. I originally only wrote the intro and have finally finished it. Feel free to comment on character development, grammar mistakes, suggestions, description...yeah, just for it. (:

Reviews

[Nick.B]

Interesting concept, loved the plot and the characters, Alex and John seem an odd combination, nice touch at the end, great job