Mourning Kill

I wrote this almost 5 years ago, but after I wrote it I never read it again. Please critique it, I could probably do so much more with it. But I was told it was getting too long for the class and I'd

“Hayden, you’re ugly.”

He stared into the mirror, moving his head back and forth scanning his jaw line. Then looking into his own eyes, it was like looking into someone else’s. He was alone in the room but not alone in his head. Looking down at his bare torso, he ran his hands over his chest and stomach, trying to block out what had happened just minutes before. His stomach hurt and his throat was dry. He felt weak and dizzy, but thinks this is what he will have to do in order to love himself. At least, that’s what she kept saying to him.

“You need me in order to live, Hayden. You’re nothing, and you’re disgusting.”

“I’m not disgusting, I’m fine,” Hayden replied out loud with a fabricated diligence.

“That’s right, fight back. See which floor you’ll be lying on later. You are nobody Hayden.”

The tears began to well up in his eyes and he returned to the bathroom again. Closing and locking the door behind him.

***************************

Hayden Chamberlain moved with his parents from the busy city of Cincinnati, to the quiet neglected country of Bruinsville to play football. The team that was supposed to be so much better than the one in Cincinnati, was actually located in the city of Allendale, which was just across the bridge. Hayden would be attending Allendale South High School. With his parents finally making something of themselves, opening a new law practice, they wanted to buy the nicest country colonial house they could in Bruinsville. Hayden would just drive himself to school everyday.

Hayden was 18 years old, going to be a senior at Allendale, and overly obsessed with his appearance. He was six foot one, broad shouldered, and had short brown hair with golden eyes. Even for how in shape he was from working out in football, he was still always dissatisfied. Ever since he was eleven years old, he hated the way he looked. So, as the years went on, he worked harder and harder to improve himself. Another thing about Hayden that bothered him was that he heard more voices than he should. There was one person in his life he absolutely hated to hear from. A major reason he loved to play football was because he could release built up anger from her, and the noises of the sport always drowned her out.

It had been two months since the move, and the Chamberlain family was settled into their new house still rearranging their lives. The two-story house was white and wide. It had dark red shutters that met up with too many windows, which looked into the bare white walls of the rooms. Their old house was nothing like this. They finally had a full green lawn that greatly surrounded the entire house. Back in Cincinnati, in the center of the city, they lived in an upstairs apartment surrounded by nothing but pavement and city sounds. It was never quiet, so nobody really ever settled down. The roof leaked when it rained, the floors creaked, and there were at least two cracks in every wall of every room. This new home was the Chamberlain family’s life that they all looked forward to. John Chamberlain, Hayden’s father, was a powerful business man, but very easy going at home. He was as tall as Hayden, had the same eyes, and the same hair color, just it was thinning a lot more. All he wore were polo shirts and he had a weird obsession with Cuckoo Clocks. There were already four of them that were put up in their new house. Hayden’s mother, Jane Chamberlain, was always worried about Hayden. Jane was a very sophisticated woman. She was much shorter, but good with her words. She kept her dirty blond hair short and in a different headband every day, and had the brightest green eyes. Jane was always reading two books at once, which always seemed to be about business or law. She tried to keep her mind busy with these things so she could eliminate her constant worry. 

Jane's past is something that has always haunted her. Her own mother suffered from schizophrenia and lived in the Adam Woods Asylum located in Northern Kentucky. So, throughout Jane’s life she was heavily affected by her own mother’s troubles. She would beat her down with her fierce words, and also with her scarred up hands. The multiple voices her mother heard eventually drove her to make Jane’s life miserable with her insanity. Jane would be awake in her room for endless nights just listening to her mother screaming and calling her name, and telling her to come out so she could help her. Jane never wanted that mental torture her mother called help. Living in Cincinnati, they were close enough where they could still check up on her from time to time. Jane hated that. Moving a ways away made her feel more comfortable with taking care of her family.

*************************

When Hayden was about eleven years old, an event occurred that worried Jane. He was much different looking when he was eleven. He had a pudgy face, longer hair past his ears, was much shorter than an average eleven year old, but also a little heavier. Jane always wanted to keep the stories about her own mother a secret from Hayden, but one Thanksgiving he ended up asking why his grandmother has never came to eat with them. Jane tried to explain as simply as she could without getting him too curious, but he wouldn’t drop it. She told him that his grandfather died before he was born, but his grandmother would be in a different kind of place for the remainder of her life. After a few weeks of constantly demanding to see her, Jane gave up and decided she would take him for one visit so he could see the reality of her explanations. 

One cold snowy morning, just Jane and Hayden bundled up and got in their car. They drove South for an hour and a half across the Kentucky border. As they arrived at the Asylum mid-afternoon, Jane parked the car and stepped out. A chill circled around her skull. It would be the first time she’d been near her mother in over two years. Living in Cincinnati, she cut her visits short because of how it was affecting her. 

The Asylum didn’t look as big on the outside, as it did on the inside. On the inside, it seemed as if the halls were an endless maze of confusion. The only solution you kept finding was another dose of confusion, and the only word you repetitively found the definition of was insanity. The building was all red and brown bricks, and looked as if it always had dark clouds in the sky, hovering over the pointed part of the roof with the shiny golden cross on it. As if the cross pulled in some sort of metallic field that the drowsy clouds were instantly attracted to. Almost as if the clouds were so dark inside, they turned to faith for a look into the light.

Jane always thought the cross was an ironic touch to the place. It was the shiniest part of the Asylum, and everything around it seemed dead. Even more so with it being covered with snow. If it was so bright, then why was the building so discomforting and dark all the time? Chills never calmed on Jane’s skin during her visits there. From the end of the sidewalk by the parking lot, you could see some of the side windows. There was one window per room for the patients, and each had vertical metal bars bolted on the outside. As you walked closer to the doors, the eerie windows were edited out of the scenery by the row of tall dead winter trees.

Jane took Hayden’s hand and walked through the tall, black, metal gate that read “Adam Woods Asylum” written in amber rust across the top. Jane felt a lump in her throat, and started having second thoughts that this little visit would be a bad idea. 

Entering the wide wooden doors and brushing the snow off their shoulders, a nurse behind the front desk looked up at them.

“Can I help you two?” She asked, raising her eyebrows and looking over her glasses. She left her finger on a line in the book she paused from reading. 

“We have an appointment with Edith Errwings,” Jane’s voice cracked as she placed her hands on Hayden’s shoulders, “Well, he does.”

The nurse closed her book, and picked up a clipboard. She sat back in her chair which let out a loud squeak, and the sound echoed down the empty narrow hallway.

“Names?” She asked with an annoyed monotone voice.

“Hayden Chamberlain, and I am his mother, Jane Chamberlain. Or, Jane Errwings. Edith is my mother,” Jane spat out the words nervously and almost too quickly. 

She takes a moment to examine her list, with her eyebrows laced together.  She looks up. “Since he is the only one on the list to visit, I’ll be taking him to the room where he will see her. You ma’am, must stay out here,” the nurse blankly stated with no emotion, and rose from her again squeaking chair. She came out from behind the short brown desk and motioned Hayden to follow her. As he stepped forward, he turned his head around to look up at his mother. Jane nodded at him with a kind grin, but she couldn’t help feeling as if she should pick him up and carry him back to the car without letting him see his grandmother. He turned back towards the nurse and kept walking close behind her down the empty hall, his toes of his sneakers almost catching on the heels of her clean white shoes.

Jane watched for as long as she could, before Hayden and the nurse turned a corner. She then turned and looked at the old faded, blue floral love seat near the door, sighed, and took a seat. It suddenly felt warm in there, and the couch was surprisingly comfortable. Jane sat there and listened to a clock ticking. She looked at the clock on the desk and it read twelve forty-five. She leaned her head back, thinking of all possible ways this could turn out. 

**************************

Jane heard footsteps, but couldn’t comprehend where they were coming from. All she saw was black darkness, but they kept getting louder and louder, closer and closer. Then she felt like someone was uncomfortably close to her. Her eyes shot awake and she jumped up to a sitting position, her heart racing. 

“Hayden,” she exclaimed breathless. She quickly looked over at the clock again. One-thirty. She rubs the print from the couch left on her cheek, “I must have dozed off.”

He was standing in front of her with a blank stare, not saying a word. His face looked pale and his bright golden eyes were dimmed.

“Are you alright? What’s the matter?” She asked as she brought her concerned face closer to read his expressions.

“Am I ugly?” He asked, almost sounding disappointed.

“What? Of course not, Hayden. What’s made you think that?” Jane was curious.

His forehead formed a slight scowl, and he took a step back. “Can we just go home? I don’t want to be in here anymore.”

“Hayden, what made you ask me that?” she was more serious with her questions now, “Did something bad ha-”

“I don’t want to talk about it. Ever,” he said very sternly, as his eyes widened. 

Jane looked at her son for a moment. He broke his dimmed eye contact, quickly turned and walked out the door ahead of his mother. She was curious to know what happened since he seemed almost scared to talk. She honestly didn’t want to hear about it, for then it might become another haunting story that would live inside her head. Hayden was her son though, and all she wanted was for him to be safe. She didn’t like the expressions on his pale face. Jane figured she would arrange some type of conversation that might bring the topic up, before asking him again in the car. Getting up to leave, Jane turned her head back to the desk to thank the nurse, but she wasn’t there. The place then felt dead. She felt as if she was the only one in the asylum, except for another person. Even though everything was deafeningly silent, for the strangest reason she still felt her mother there. She felt as if she was watching, and laughing. Her spirit being that close to her was so haunting she felt uncomfortably anxious. The feeling made Jane walk out of the door, follow her son into the quiet snowfall, and not look back once.

****************************

Hayden didn’t feel like talking anymore to anyone about what happened that day. The whole car ride home Jane tried to ask questions, but he never gave her any answers. Inside his mind, he really wished that his mother was sterner with saying no to him about seeing his grandmother. He felt weird. It was as if he lost a part of himself, and she was there now. He felt as if she was watching him, and could hear his every thought. Hayden finally understood how his mother explained her as being “haunting.”

They arrived home in the early evening, and Hayden walked in the door. He trudged up the creaky, slightly caving-in stairs, and right towards his bedroom. His father was in the dining room, wearing an unbuttoned polo shirt, sleeves rolled up, with a dirty white wife beater under it. Along with torn up jeans and bare feet. He stopped re-winding one of his cuckoo clocks to notice Hayden rushing in.

“Hey, Champ. How did today go?” He asked, pleased to see his son.

“Fine,” Hayden avoided eye contact, kept walking down the short hall and straight into his bedroom.

Jane then walked into the door, breathing heavy, and threw her keys and purse on the end table next to her.

“What’s going on with him? Is he alright?” John asked, standing broadly in the dining room doorway.

“He told me he never wants to talk about it, and I think it’s a good idea he doesn’t. I honestly don’t want to hear what happened, it scares me that much. I tried finding out answers but he won’t give them to me. So be it. He got his visit out of his system and it’s obvious that he doesn’t want to go back, which is how I definitely want it,” Jane spoke quick and nervously while leaning over, taking her shoes off that were wet from walking in the snow. She straightened back up, placed her hands on her hips and looked at the floor. There were wet puddles forming from the snow that was stomped off by Hayden’s sneakers. Jane sighed, and pinched the top of her nose with two fingers.

“Well, are you alright?” John asked softly.

Her arms fell hard to her sides, “I’m fine. I just want Hayden to be fine, you know? People like my mother can be tough on an eleven year old. Maybe this was a bad idea. I’ve told you about all the awful things she used to say to me, John. How she use to look me straight in the eyes and tell me how horrible I was, and then about all the voices she heard that just drove her insane, and then took it all out on me. Physically, along with mentally. Who knows what she could have done to our son,” Jane started to talk louder and her voice broke up. “He hasn’t said a word to me since we left.”

John walked over to his wife and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. She returned the hug more tightly than she intended.

“Everything will be fine, Hun,” John whispered to her, and she began to subtly cry into his shirt.

*************************

Hayden sat on the end of his twin-sized bed, with fists clenched from anger. She told him she’d be there forever now. That she’d make him better, and make him beautiful. He didn’t understand. Even after leaving that room though, he could still hear her. 

“I’m telling you Hayden, you’re not good enough yet. I can fix it. I promise.”

He didn’t like this voice, but was intrigued by how she thought she could help. She wasn’t talking much yet though. Feeling frustrated with all the mean things she shouted at him at the Asylum, and how she wasn’t helping yet like she said she would, he decided he would take a nap to try and clear his head. Taking a deep breath, he collapsed back onto his bed that had one sheet, one comforter with holes, and one stained pillow. He quickly fell into sleep, not caring how cold the room got with the door shut. The one window he had was broken, and the cracks were taped up. Although, it didn’t really help stop the freezing winter wind from flowing ungracefully into the room. 

Hayden began violently shivering. It was hard to catch his breath, and he awoke to a soft knocking on the door, but didn’t open his eyes. He felt the burn of snow on his face, bare arms and bare feet since the only things he was wearing were dirty blue jeans and a dark green t-shirt. The knocking got louder and he sat up brushing snow off himself. When he looked around the room, the only thing in it was his bed. His dresser, lamp, hamper, and end table were gone, and every single thing was covered in inches of snow. The knocking got so loud the sound ignited fear into his veins. He began breathing harder, exhaling his own steam into the suddenly ghost-white room, and the window cracked again. Outside was just all white as well, so he couldn’t see a thing, and the deafening banging on the door would not stop. Hayden heard another crack from the window, but then heard a voice outside the door. He couldn’t make out what the person was saying. It was like a hissing whisper, and the fear pumped into his bones, then moved painfully from head to toe. He was unable to move. It was his grandmother. 

“You are hideous, Hayden. Hideous,” She hissed mockingly from behind the door.

The window loudly cracked again, but kept cracking. It sounded like it was being pushed inward by a heavy pressure. Everything descended to slow motion. Just as Hayden turned his head towards the window, it exploded. Glass flew everywhere back to full speed, and Hayden tried to shield his face from it. It scattered all over the bed and the floor, but then snow began blowing into the room with an extreme force. The flakes hit Hayden at first like pins and needles,  but then like knives, and it felt as if his skin was being sliced open. It was so cold, and there was so much snow, that he jumped off his bed, cutting his feet on the glass and ran to the door.

“Yes, run to me, Hayden. Run to me, and let me make you beautiful.”

He stopped. Trying to hold himself from shivering, and squinting his eyes from the blizzard, his hand hovered over the doorknob. He hesitantly placed his hand on it, and slowly turned the knob all the way. The door then flung open with a remarkable push, which hit Hayden and he was pushed backwards almost across the whole room. 

Then the whipping blizzard suddenly stopped. 

Everything was still. 

He froze in fear with his mouth agape, and looked at the old woman hunched over in his doorway. She was awkwardly skinny, her bones showing through her clothes, and she was dressed in the long white gown that she wore in the asylum. There was blood soaked in on the stomach part of it. Her hair was messy, long and as white as the snow. Her wrinkled skin was covered in scars, even on her face, and her eyes were too wide of a brighter gold than his. She looked dead, but was alive. As she was also still, her head then slowly cocked to the side and she began laughing. She laughed so deep and loud, Hayden didn’t know how she could breathe. Her awful cackle sent a feeling of spiders crawling and biting down his spine. 

“You’re mine now, Hayden,” she said showing what crooked yellow teeth she had left, and flung herself at him. As her body flew across the room to him, an interruption caused her haunting face to freeze in front of his. There was loud knocking again.

He flung upwards screaming, in a cold sweat, breathing hard, and in a dark room. 

“Hayden! Are you alright? Unlock this door right now!” It was his mother.

He reached to his end table and flicked on his lamp. His feet were in pain but when he looked down at them, there weren’t any cuts. Then the pain quickly faded away.

“Hayden!” His mother yelled, again.

He then jumped out of bed trying to collect himself from shaking and sweating. Opening the door he looked at his mother who was wide-eyed. 

“What are you doing? You know you’re not allowed to lock the door! How am I supposed to get to you if there’s some sort of emergency? I heard you screaming!” Jane yelled. She adjusted her headband, which almost fell off from her use of body language.

“I’m fine, mom,” he whispered with one hand nervously twisting the doorknob, “I-I fell asleep. It was just a bad dream.”

“Don’t scare me like that, Hayden. Now come out, dinner’s ready.”

Hayden let go of the doorknob and walked to the dining room, which had the most wall cracks in the apartment. He just thought his mother was being too dramatic. He looked at his father who was already at his seat, which his stunned face quickly changed to a welcoming grin.

“We made your favorite, Champ,” and John began scooping some mashed potatoes onto his plate.

Hayden went and took his seat, his mother doing the same, and he still didn’t say a word. He kept reliving the last image of his grandmother’s facial expression just flying at him. He wiped the remainder of sweat from his forehead, and took another relaxing breath. He suddenly didn’t feel hungry anymore. A mock thanksgiving dinner in front of him, but not one slight feeling of hunger. The voice was beginning to work its charm. 

Hayden could never tell his parents about any of this. He knew how his mother felt about his grandmother’s situation, and knew she would take it way too far. He feared that she might put him in a place like his grandmother was in. He had to forget about it, and just play it off. This is how the voice said things would be. He just wished he knew for how long they would be like this. 

******************************

“Go!”

Hayden ran full speed towards the big black padded sleigh alongside three other players. Smashing their bodies into it, they began pushing it as hard as they could along the field, letting out shouts of strength. It had been three weeks into practice on this new varsity team at Allendale, and things were getting intense. They won their first game, so the players were worked extra hard that practice to keep it up for the next one.

“Let’s go! Twenty more yards! The game is tomorrow!” The six foot four inch, overly muscled and sweaty coach screamed at the players. His name was Coach Bradent. During his early years, he went to military school and was in the marines, so he had a lot of authority within the varsity football team. He loved the fact that players feared him, and proudly used that to his advantage. 

“Alright, good. Now everybody hustle over to me. Hustle!” He yelled, as some spit came out with his words. 

The players quickly gathered in a big huddle around Coach Bradent, trying to catch their breath from the work outs. 

“Good job today boys, I like the intensity I’m seeing. Keep it up. We’re playing our rivals tomorrow and everybody knows how important this game is to us. I know we can pull in a win,” he said finally speaking quieter. He was pretty good at keeping the guys motivated. “So go home, rest up, and I’ll see you on this field at 5:30 sharp for a pre-game warm-up.”

Everyone broke the huddle, and walked over to the benches to gather their things. Hayden took off his helmet and padding, and used a towel from his bag to wipe his face. He changed from his cleats to his sneakers, as his three newest friends walked over to him to do the same. Their names were Jacobe Landaus, Derek Miller, and Mason Gabriel. The three of them have been friends since elementary school, but had no problem accepting Hayden into their group. Jacobe and Derek were the two best players on the football team, and almost looked like brothers. Both six foot two, had black hair, and had the same chiseled body shape. They even lived next door to each other in one of the richest housing developments in Allendale. Their only differences were that Derek had the gorgeous cheerleader girlfriend named Dakota Billings, and blue eyes. Jacobe had brown eyes, and always made fun of Dakota’s name sounding like a state. He was also slightly less mature than Derek. Mason was different from both of them. He was five foot ten, had red hair, bright ocean blue eyes, and got straight A’s. When all three guys came together though, they usually had the best of moments. 

“What are you guys doing after the game tomorrow night?” Jacobe asked, “We should go up to my cabin that’s off of the South end of Rundsfield drive.”

“Sounds good. Except I got my car taken away thanks to my last three math tests,” Derek said laughing, and tossing his cleats into his bag. 

“I hate when you drive anyway,” said Mason. Except his friends ignored him. 

“What about you Hayden?” Jacobe asked smiling, “You drive that red Toyota Camry right? You want to drive us? 

“S-sure,” he stuttered, happy they wanted him to come. He smiled back and bent down to pick up his bag. He thought it was a good opportunity to become more part of the group.

“No girls this time though. My parents didn’t take that too well last time,” Jacobe laughed towards Derek since it pertained to some kind of inside joke. His smile got bigger and showed off more of his perfect white teeth. Derek had them as well. His might have been even better actually. 

“Except for Dakota of course,” smiled Derek’s set of pearls, “You know she’s a given.”

Jacobe sighed and said, “Okay, yeah but only her.”

“You always let him do what he wants, what about Ashley?” said Mason, again no response from his friends.

Hayden smiled at him, and began walking towards his car, then turned back, “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

******************************

Hayden leaned his face over the toilet again.

“You want to be in shape for your game right? You want a girl like Dakota right?“

He sank to the floor and groaned. If this was supposed to make him so great looking, he didn’t like the way it made him felt. 

“Beauty is pain, Hayden. Jealously is a sickness. I’m trying to fix that for you. You know you’re jealous of your friends. Don’t you trust me?

“I…was never…jealous,” he said out loud, with a weak, breathy voice. He tried to regain oxygen between his words.

“Yes you were, don’t lie to yourself. Look how beautiful I’m making you already, Hayden. You want this to become even better.”

Hayden picked himself up off the cold bathroom floor with a sudden pulse of angered energy. He then leaned back over the toilet, sticking his two fingers to the back of his throat for yet another time.

*******************************

“Play this CD, Hayden,” Jacobe says, handing a mixed CD to Hayden from over the back seat. He put it into the player and Jay-Z starts playing. They were on their way to Jacobe’s cabin for the night.

The game had gone great. They beat their rivals in the last minute with a pass caught by Derek in the end zone. The catch scored the winning touchdown, and they set out on this night to celebrate. But Hayden wasn't feeling too hot. 

“I love this song!” said the new girl in the passenger seat. Her name was Allie Young. She was one of Dakota’s cheerleader friends that she dragged along, and Jacobe obviously gave into his word about no more girls. Jacobe didn’t think she was that attractive so she said Hayden could have her. Also including that Mason apparently can’t “score chicks” as he bluntly put it. So Allie accompanied him in the front, while Mason, Derek, Dakota and Jacobe squeezed in the back. They were all obnoxiously singing along to the song that Hayden didn’t know any words to, so he sat quietly. He had been quiet since the incident in the bathroom the night before. Her voice had really been getting to him, and he suddenly felt self-conscious of himself in front of Allie. He wanted her to stop looking over at him every minute. 

“She wouldn’t ever be with you anyway. So stop sweating. You look even uglier when you sweat. You’re ruining the work I’ve done, Hayden.”

Hayden’s head hurt really badly, and his stomach was even worse. He suddenly felt too sick to concentrate and he held a hand over his chest. He couldn’t breathe. He started sweating more. 

“Hayden, are you alright man?” Derek asked really concerned. He took his arm down from being around Dakota, and leaned up to look at Hayden’s face. 

Hayden’s eyes closed. All the color flushed out of his face, and he started drifting to the right. 

“Dude, he’s passing out!“ Jacobe yelled, "Grab the wheel!"

Hayden fell into Allie’s lap. The wheel turned. Allie couldn't reach it in time, Jacobe tried to jump in at the last second, but the last thing Hayden heard was yelling and loud screams in his ear. Then just felt an undeniable pressure against his entire body, and everything went black. 

******************************

The pavement was cold under Hayden’s bare feet. He couldn’t really remember how his shoes came off anyway. Maybe he took them off or something. He tried to remember, as everything around him had its own spotlight from the flashing cars and trucks, and everything smelled of rain and dead leaves. 

“You got a number to call buddy?” A tall man too dark to make out yelled.

“What?” Hayden replied confused. He sat on the pavement, with his knees huddled to his chest. His eyes were squinted, and he shielded them from the bright lights with his hand. Then realizing, it was a sheriff.

“Where are your parents? Do you have a phone number you can call?”

Hayden looked back down at the ground. He stared at the sheriff’s shoes for a minute trying to process his words, and studied his left foot, then moving to the right. Big heavy black boots. They were too big for his leg shape. He felt a sharp pain shoot through the side of his head, and he raised a hand up to touch it. Moving his hand in front of him for his eyes to gain focus on it, it was covered in blood. He felt sick again, but not the sick she normally caused.

“Don’t touch that. Leave it be until we have a free ambulance for you to go to. How about that number?”

“This is all my fault,” Hayden whispered, as he choked back the lump growing in his throat. He could feel the tears start to sting his eyes as well. Dropping his head down farther, he covered his face with his hands. He attempted to erase the night’s images that were flowing back into his head.

“You’ll be alright. Let’s just get some contact ready for you so we can notify your family. What’s your name?” the sheriff rested his hand on Hayden’s shoulder.

He removed his hands from his face and looked back at the Sheriff’s shoes.

“Hayden,” he said, “Hayden Chamberlain,” and he slowly stood up to meet the Sheriff at eye level. He quickly returned his eyes to the ground, feeling shame, and he was uneasy from his headache. The Sheriff quickly placed his hand back on Hayden’s shoulder to help him gain his balance, and he began guiding him towards another unrealistically bright flashing ambulance. Hayden almost felt as if he were dreaming again. 

“Well, I’m Officer Marsh,” he said while holding Hayden’s arm.

Hayden ignored him, and his eyes shifted to the right. All he saw were EMT’s as they quickly walked back and forth, and loudly talked to each other. When he could eventually focus his eyes more, he saw the bent, twisted metal and broken glass all over the road. The mess glittered like diamonds along the pavement with every flash of red and blue lightning. He tried to avoid the diamonds with his feet, as if they were ironically precious. 

He looked a little further ahead and then saw his Toyota. It was completely crashed into the biggest Oak Tree he had ever seen. The car looked so broken and defeated being smashed under the tall armored wood. He picked up his pace towards the ambulance, trying his hardest not to look at the remains of the accident, but then noticed the other ambulances. He saw stretchers. Carefully counting, five bodies were being prepared to be put into their own ambulances. Struck by confusion, he overheard another Sheriff on his radio.

“Six teenagers were in the car, two females and four males, the car is completely totaled, crashed head-on into a tree, North side of Rundsfield Dr, five pronounced dead at the scene, one male is alive, conscious and walking.”

Hayden listened to the words, and they became locusts. The syllables swarmed him in crooked lines of an unknown destination, and they seemed to crawl deep under his skin. Every word the sheriff would say, would repeat in his head three times before he could completely process it from the loud buzzing. It was a big blurry buzz that just kept echoing. Not taking his eyes off of the bodies, it clicked. Those were his new friends, and they were all dead.

“Nice going Hayden. Do you understand why now? You’re a murderer. You’re horrible.”

Hayden didn’t even have the mental strength to try and block out her voice. His drowsy eyes were fixed on his five dead friends, and then he felt dead himself. All the images rushed back into his head, and he became dizzy again. His eye lids were heavy with defeat. Slowly buckling at his knees, the pavement became undesirably close to him again, and his mind was blank. She was quiet for once.

****************************

It was six days later. The funerals for his five friends were the day before, Hayden was lying curled up on his new queen sized bed, shirtless and in shorts, hugging one of his now multiple pillows. He couldn’t cry anymore. He did for five days straight. One day for each one of his friends that he killed in the accident. Yesterday was a nightmare. Hayden made a long speech in front of all the other Allendale High School students, and his dead friends’ families. He would not stop apologizing as his tears formed varicose rivers along the crinkled pieces of paper he wrote on. Now and then, he’d look up from the papers at the parents, and they would all be uncontrollably crying. The students would be doing the same. After he was done, his parents brought him in to take a seat with them, but he just couldn’t take the scene anymore. Hayden left the funeral early to go home. He ended up taking some sort of medicine his father gave him to help him sleep, and just passed out into depression and sleep for the rest of the night.

Still, nobody knows about his secret voice that drove him sick. He woke up, but quickly forced himself to drift back into sleep. Instead, he drifted back into a nightmare. He had that same haunting dream that occurred when he was eleven, but now it was his grandmother, along with his five friends. They all burst through the door this time, jumped on him and tore him apart while his grandmother stood there laughing her deep laugh. Her eyes rolled in the back of her head. Instead of the blood being on her gown, it was now all over him and his violent friends. They ripped open the skin over his stomach, and nothing came out of it. They all began laughing as well. He looked down at his open flesh and the rest of his body was just all bones. “I knew he had some sort of eating disorder,“ Dakota said. She began laughing again, chiming in with the rest of her group. He just laid there and took the pain, not caring where it would end up.

He awoke sweating again, and it was dark out. He didn’t even bother turning the light on.

“Hayden?” A soft knock was at his door, and it cracked open. It was his parents. “Sweetie, you’ve been sleeping all day. Want to come out in the living room with us for awhile?”

No answer.

“Come on, Champ. Why don't you come downstairs with your family for a little while. Maybe we can watch something that will distract your mind.”

Still no answer.

They stood there in the hallway as they peeked through the crack in the door, and just saw him as he laid flat on his back, motionless.

“Well, if you change your mind honey, we’re downstairs on the couch, okay?”

It was a long hesitation of silence, but Hayden nodded subtly twice. Jane and John slowly closed the door and Jane began to sob. John comforted her and walked her back downstairs to the living room. Again, Hayden fell back asleep. 

He woke up and looked at his clock. It read three seventeen in the morning. He lay there silent, tried to listen to the house, and concluded his parents were asleep now. Hayden began to think, and thought about everything. About his eating disorder that she forced onto him, about how throwing up so much and then playing a football game made him feel awful and pass out while driving, and about how much serious pain he’d caused everyone. He thought about his mother crying hours before, which struck an angry nerve. Hayden rolled over in bed, covered his head with his pillow and screamed into his sheets until he ran out of breath. Once he was quiet again, his head wasn’t anymore. It started.

“I didn’t even want to go to that stupid cabin, but Dakota made me. You should have died with us.”

“Why did you do this to us, Hayden? Why are you alive?”

“Why didn’t you tell us you were insane, Hayden? Can’t you see that you’ve destroyed our lives because of this?”

“Your grandmother is right about you, Hayden. You’re horrible.”

“Nobody as crazy as you should ever be allowed to drive. Look what you’ve done. Look what you’ve done!”

“Don’t you get it now Hayden? They all hate you. Everyone hates you. I’ve tried so hard to fix you but you won’t ever be good enough. The work must be made greater. You must be worked more. Nobody cares about you Hayden, only I do. They all hate you now.“

Five new voices. He couldn’t even handle one, so how could he handle five more? Hayden began breathing heavy and grunting in anger with each breath. He slammed the pillow down and got off his bed. Not even worrying about grabbing a shirt or shoes, he walked out his room, down the hall, down the stairs and out the front door, grabbing his parents’ car keys on the way. He walked over to the shiny black Avalon and got in, calmly closing the door. Then he softened up and rested his head against the steering wheel.

“Where are you going to go? Drive again? How stupid are you?

“Hayden, just give up. Give up on life. Give up trying, because you‘ll always be ugly. You‘ll always be nothing.”

He screamed at the top of his lungs and started the car, tensing back up again. Backing out of the driveway he started shaking. He turned out, shifted to drive, and then sped away. With fully locked arms, and the tightest grip on the wheel, he felt his pulse in his whitening knuckles. He was becoming a monster. The adrenaline rose to his chest, and he pushed himself back into the seat, banging his head on the headrest. All he was trying to do was block out the six voices, so he just kept yelling louder. He couldn’t take it anymore. 

It had been ten minutes of driving, and ten minutes of them yelling at him. He didn’t even recognize where he was, nor did he care about finding out. All he heard was the voices. They all just kept screaming his name, and he repetitively heard the screams he listened to right before he crashed them into their deaths. Then something moved across his windshield. It was a bloody arm. It moved across again the opposite way, a bloody leg following it. Then another hand covered in blood smacked onto the driver side window, and Dakota’s bruised face appeared with it. Hayden let out another scream and just became incoherent. He thought he was dreaming again. Derek’s body then rolled down the windshield and laid across his hood, his dead face had glass cut into it, and he smiled his perfect teeth into Hayden’s eyes again. Hayden couldn’t even move.                                

“Just let me wake up!” He screamed until his voice was sore. He screamed so much that barely any sound could come out anymore. His foot pushed more weight down on the gas pedal subconsciously, as he watched all five dead and bloody bodies smack against the windows. They began moving like they were alive again. They were snakes slithering in each other’s puddles of blood across the car. They were moaning and groaning zombies trying to get to Hayden. It’s like they wanted him with them. Mason appeared on the passenger’s window with his hands flattened by his face. Many of his fingers, and even his arm seemed to be broken, and were bent in all different directions. A loud bang sounded like a gunshot on the roof of the car. Hayden looked up and the roof was dented inward. Jacobe then slid down right in front of him across the windshield. He was smiling at him as well, but his face looked a lot more beat and cut up than Derek’s. He then heard another bang on the back of the car, and shot a look into his rear view mirror. Allie’s body was flailing all over the window, and a huge gash gushed blood out of the side of her face. Hayden just cried. He cried as hard as he’d ever cried in his life, and just watched his five friends’ bodies roll along the car with their cuts and bruises and their blood smearing. It smeared so much that Hayden could no longer see the road. Then, her face returned. The face that flew at him in his childhood dream slowly came closer and closer from a distance. The haunting, laughing, and broken yellow smile of his grandmother came through the window with her bright eyes, and again froze right in front of his face. 

The windshield smashed. Glass went into his face and his head went forward into the steering wheel. Everything on the car was gone, and nobody was around. All the blood disappeared and the bodies were non-existent. Hayden’s whole body jolted forward, and all he could feel was pain. Just for a moment though because soon after, Hayden felt nothing at all. Hayden saw nothing at all, and he heard nothing at all. The long dark road was dead quiet, and the new diamonds finished scattering. The tree leaves finished shaking from the impact, and again the armored bark was still intact. Then nothing moved, and nothing could move any longer. The wind was even still. As still as Hayden.

**************************

“Hayden! We missed you!” Jacobe yelled from a distance.

Hayden stood completely still and just stared at Jacobe, scared of what he could look like up close. He looked deeper at him, and he was perfectly fine. He was completely dressed in white. Then his four other friends appeared out of a blinding white mist, smiling as well. Everyone was in white. They all looked beautiful.

 Seeing them, he suddenly felt whole. Like something was missing out of his head, but that’s how he was supposed to be all along. He didn’t feel anxious, he felt calm. He looked down at himself, and he was also dressed in white. He felt his face and his hair, and he was put together again. His mind was finally put together again. 

“Hayden. Are you coming?” Derek also smiled at him, and Mason motioned him to come to them.

Hayden felt happiness, finally. He quickly walked towards his five friends with the biggest smile he’s ever felt on his face, and also in his heart. 

They wrapped their arms around him and pulled him to walk with them. With their arms around him, he looked down at the white floor. A gown. It laid flat out. He froze in fear and just stared at it. He stared at the dried blood stain in the middle of it, and quickly collected himself. Nobody was in the gown. The fabric lay limp, and weak. She was defeated, and he had defeated her. Hayden looked back up at the beautiful faces of his friends, making eye contact with each of them. They were so pure and so happy. He took a deep relieving breath, feeling the cool air swirl into his lungs with such grace, and walked. He walked deep into the blinding white mist, excited for what was within. Finally, he walked tall. He walked beautiful. He walked, among them.

Author's Note

I wrote this almost 5 years ago, but after I wrote it I never read it again. Please critique it, I could probably do so much more with it. But I was told it was getting too long for the class and I'd have to stop. So some things got cut out here and there. Basically the grandmother who is schizo, has this view on the world that whatever doesn't need to be broken, she wants to break. She wants to remove all innocence and love around her. Hayden is so affected by that day at the asylum, that his own issue of schizophrenia all of a sudden comes apparent, especially after his accident. I cut out a lot of the family involvement. Like I said, I could definitely tweak lots of parts to this.

Reviews

[SweetNutmeg]

That seriously made me cry. It's a great story concept. It does need brushing up, though. In the first paragraph, there's a little confusion about tense... "thinks" in present tense, everything else in past tense. You might want to go back and think about your adjectives and adverbs. Too many fancy words take the reader's attention away from the story. Strong nouns and verbs do more than adjectives and adverbs.

Now for my own personal obsession: show, don't tell. In the first big hunk of writing, when you introduce us to the characters, you do a lot of telling and not much showing. Instead of telling us the father has an obsession with cuckoo clocks, you could show him fussing over them after the move, being very careful with them, or waffling about where to hang them, or obsessing about whether they were all set with the same exact time. The same with the mother, you tell us she worries, when you could show us by her saying worried things like "Oh, be careful with that box" or "Honey I hope you like your new school" or whatever she might be prone to worry about.

In the middle portion, when he is 11, you do a lot more showing and less telling. The first nightmare he had was fantastic. I was confused at first, in a good way, because dreams are like that, you can't tell if they are real or if they are dreams. It was scary! You fall back into telling again when you bring us up to the present, when he is with his new friends.

The end, when he is suddenly free of the grandmother's voice, is a wonderful ending. That's what made me cry. This story is definitely worth putting more work into.

[AutonomousAmbivalence]

Thank you!
Yes I posted it as is, and I agree I need to develop a lot more on characters. Like I said in my description, I had to cut out a lot of family interaction. But I do agree, it's lacking that part. And I've never really realized the difference between showing and telling, but you just opened that factor up a lot more to me.
:)

[AutonomousAmbivalence]

Also I want to add a whole scene of finding out what happened with the grandmother in the asylum. Like Hayden will break down to his mother about it, the night he takes that final drive.

[SweetNutmeg]

I'd like to see that scene too. This is a super story and I am glad you resurrected it.