Chapter 1 - Week Seven

The Kingdom of the Blind 
Chapter 1 - Week 7

Eyes dazed and heavy, he sits on the window sill, shirt half opened and barefoot, looking at the sky, it always fascinates him; the flicker of the stars, their faint light glowing in coordination with the Crescent, the moon had risen moments earlier from behind the northern hills. Its light finding its way through the woods, making everything shine silver. He only needs to cross the road to reach the woods; he lives on the border of Hallows edge, the town he had been in his entire life.

His room is modest, bed standing on opposite end of the oak door, a table desk on one side and a wardrobe on another. He has a small drawer on one side of his bed, it has a lamp, some old items given by family and friends and birthday cards.

His birthday was on 2^nd September; he had dinner with his parents and sister, it was quiet and serene, and he loved it. Later his friends Bryan, Jessica and Jan crashed in and they watched horror movies until they slept on the sofa, a tangle of limbs and popcorn. It was a happy and warm evening, all evenings with his friends were.

Tyler has many acquaintances, but a very tight knit group of friends, he can’t imagine his life without them, not really, and since he was a boy they practically grew up together. Initially they were a much larger group, but people grow and move on to find their own roots - he sighs, there are only two of them left, Leo left as well. Tyler gulps down a sudden weight in his throat and shifts his position slightly for comfort, he looks at the street and a heavier weight materializes - a weight which makes his heart black and hollow. He pictures them playing and running out in the street, yelling each other’s names as they play hide and seek or catch, he remembers when a neighbour would  come out angry and frustrated, scolding them for being too loud, they would suddenly go from fighting each other over childish things to defending themselves with bravery, bravery Tyler has long lost.

He gets down from the window sill and moves into the room, taking the underwear from his bed and opening the door of his bedroom, wincing as it creaks loudly. Once sure there are no reactions and he hasn’t woken up his parents, he heads to the bathroom. It’s late at night, probably half past eleven and he doesn’t feel like going to school, he hates Monday; it’s such a horrid day of the week.

He moves into the bathroom silently, moves in front of the mirror, expectations high and unbuttons his white t-shirt, throwing it away on the floor, his eyes are closed and he hopes it disappeared.

When he opens his eyes he feels like someone struck him by a hammer, entire body shivering he curses and grits his teeth, angry and confused and hurting. His breath stutters with panic and he forces himself to calm down.

It’s there in the reflection, the black mark on his chest, where his heart lies, it has grown darker, it has the shape of a small kite and every time he touches it or brushes against it with his finger tips he winces sharply, it feels like he has a flesh wound and it is gaping open, sensitive to any touch, even to the brush of cool air.

He had tried scrubbing it off with the washing cloth once, he had fought his way through the aggravating pain of tearing open his own flesh, willing it to go away until his skin was red and sore and bruised, but it was futile. Everything but the mark faded.

The first time he asked his mother she laughed.

 

 
“Honey, you’re just imagining things, don’t get so paranoid”, he had agreed because it was just a faint dark shade, maybe he was just being his usual over conscious self.

Yet now, eyes blank and dull, he remembers everything with perfect clarity; the mark had appeared two months earlier, or more precisely; seven weeks. He has been counting each day, loathing each hour that passed and resenting the hours that came. Only a day before he was happy the little acne he had faded, happy at how the scar he had on his forehead since he was a little boy had almost vanished, at how his mother observed curiously and remarked how pale he had become. She asked him worriedly whether he was eating, but Tyler was eating abundantly, at first he thought it was just the lack of sunlight, the change in the weather, he had climbed in bed ridiculously pleased, but it didn’t last.

It was only in the morning while he groomed his hair that he noticed the little dark shade on his upper chest, he didn’t pay any attention to it. Until night arrived and he looked at his reflection once again, he saw how his hair had darkened, how he touched his pale skin and it felt like it wasn’t his own, he had pinched it but couldn’t feel the pain, his skin wasn’t reddening at all. His scars, blemishes, faults and everything else about him was either fading or changing, no one else was noticing, the change was slow and gradual, yet he could see it. He could see every little change happening, could feel his skin all over his body itching constantly like a healing wound.

He comes back to the present and looks away from the mirror, willing the constant loop of the recent events replaying in his head to halt.

He thinks he’s going crazy and laughs a little, the laugh is sad and miserable and it can’t help be helped.

He tried to be happy, he tried to be pleased, but he can’t " something lies heavy on his heart and the ever darkening mark has become an emblem which removed any easiness he struggled to feel.

‘I must be’, he thinks ‘insane’.

He knows no one can see the mark but him; he asked his mother every couple of days, he even asked Brian, who looked at him with a slightly worried expression. Over the last weeks, everyone noticed how he had indeed changed, everyone noticed and remarked with a tone either suspicious, appraising or jealous " he could hear the slight cracks in their voices, realized the venom each word sometimes carried.

Yet he is the only one who can see the mark, an ever present reminder that no; not everything is okay.

Now he is the Basket Ball’s team right forward, he hasn’t figured how that happened yet, not exactly. He knows everyone is talking about him, talking about how he will be playing in the next match; somehow he became the center of attention. Tyler; the guy with the tight knit group of friends, a bit of a loner but generally nice has become all this.

Sighing, he gets in the shower and lets the water fall. It runs down his face, and it blurs his vision.

Author's Note

Honest critique and constructive criticism are always welcome. It's what I need most to make the best out of this, thank-you :)