Chapter I: The ConcordA Chapter by Nelo MaxwellTime to face the mirror, say hello to your other self. Shake hands with the reflection, because tomorrow I'll be you.Ra’Chaun
03/08/05
Chapter I:
The He walked, it was
cold as usual, not blistering, but to him no cold was good. He wouldn't be out
here if he didn't need to, but of course, he did. Walking with a cautious step
mindful, that no one must see his face, not that any sane soul would travel
this way. Still this was no consolation, for this was Winterbourne country and
a Winterbourne he was not. They had taken everything and in doing so gained
complete control although how they rose to prominence was a mystery, he was
sure that his destination would provide a remedy to the cancer plaguing his
world. The wilderness swirled around him in the torrent of snow; the howls of
distant animals graced his ears. Slowly he entered a hollow wound in the earth.
As he went deeper, the freezing cold gave way to a tingle. There was a dim
light, which became brighter as he approached. There were rumors that this cave
was guarded by something so horrible, the realm of nightmares wouldn’t dare
conjure it up. Finally, he reached a cavern, illuminated by a translucent green
fluid, hanging from stalagmites. They were like hesitant tear drops, cried by
the cave long ago and along with the soft light they gave off there was also warmth.
Below, a mirrored pool waited its surface calm, unmoving, beautiful, this was
the ‘Fourth Wall’. He blinked at his
reflection, his hair had grown, long black locks draping over his shoulders and
his eyes, almost feral, were alien to him. How long had it been, since he’d been told about this place? He took a
deep breath, pealing off his heavy clothes; he shed them for slender, white
collared shirt, black jacket, pants, and gloves. As he prepared to plunge into
the liquid below, a sound reverberated through the cave, a sound much like that
water moving through strained metal pipes. Was
this it, the horrible guardian of the fourth wall? Jumping back he
braced himself, a gale force wind slapped his locks back into his face,
followed by a vertical wall of water. It spouted up from the pool and hit the
ceiling, Where is it? The liquid hung
in the air like a cloud of smoke, if formed a sphere as a light moved across
its reflective surface. And then he heard it, the ear splitting screech,
followed another gust. He covered his face and tried not to lose his balance,
the wind stopped and standing directly across from him was something
constructed of his childhood nightmares. It was a deathly gray, bent backward
as it’s head spun in around to observe him, it’s mouth or what counted for one
appeared stitched shut, along with it’s eyes. It jerked around horribly as if
it were on the verge of seizure, it’s elbows and knees were bent in the wrong
angles and it stank of death, of violence. I’ve
come to far to be stopped now. The
young man placed his hands at his sides, took in deep breathes, closed his
eyes. The creature reared back ready to lunge toward him, it shook
uncontrollably and launched itself over the hole. Show time, The
young man opened his eyes, which were now a gleaming silver and a bright flash
filled the room. Roderick stopped, saved his work, and logged off;
he’d been writing this story for as week. It started as a project to relive
stress and exercise recommended by his friend Michele, but now he couldn’t stop
as if something compelled him to write, as if he had a duty to tell this story.
He walked over to his bed and laid down, it was as if his entire life force
went his work, scrawling his dreams on to paper making them real, solid, dense.
Sleep now hung on his eye lids; he’d write tomorrow, for now sleep. He closed his eyes slowly dwelling between the point
of reality and the rapid eye movements that awaited him in dreamtime. As his
eyes closed he imagined himself in the story he wrote, nothing was different.
Same town he lived in, nothing different except he could do what ever he felt
like. He was rattled awake by the sound
of footsteps and his eyes shot open. “Who’s there?” He waited for a reply but none came. It’s probably just Avery. He closed his
eyes again and tried at a second attempt to go to sleep, and seemed to be
succeeding. “Roderick” “Yes” he
whispered. He shook his head. Roderick
got up out of his bed, opened the door, and walked into the hallway. “Avery did
you call me?” “No.”
said a loud voice from a door in the middle of the hallway.” You hearin’ things
go to bed.” Roderick was
about to ask his mother but stopped himself when he realized that she was at
her boyfriend’s house across town. He closed his door and hit the bed, closed
his eyes and hoped that he could get to sleep. And he did. During the night he’d dreamt of a young man with
dreadlocks like his swimming in a tunnel filled with water, no, not water;
something else. He was woken up mid dream and seemed to be stricken by sleep
paralysis. Of course, the only parts of his body that worked were his eyes and
mouth. At the foot of his bed, he caught sight of a young man sitting down. “Hello
Roderick” the young man dread locks that were covering his eyes.
Roderick closed his eyes tight and utilizing the ostrich theory he hoped
it would be gone when he opened them. “Open
your eyes” the young man had a wide grin on his face too wide to be human. He
wore a T-shirt with a soccer ball on it, blue jeans, and converse. “I’m not
going anywhere just yet.” “What
…I…I…Is it that you want?” Roderick broke into his nervous stutter. “Only to
talk” Roderick
blinked and the young man was sitting in his computer chair. “I'm here to give
you what you want.” The figure moved in the chair a bit. “What I
want?” There were a couple of things that Roderick wanted. “I want to escape” “Great me
too.” The Young man spun around in the chair playfully. “So do you want it or
not, what am I saying, of course you do.” “How do I
get it?” “Just shake my hand.” The young man
smiled beneath his locks. “But I can’t move, sleep paralysis.”
Roderick breathed. “Yes you can, get up.” The young man
motioned for him to rise. Roderick bolted up immediately as if
by some strange magnetism. “Ok… so we just shake and that’s it?” “That’s it, come on.” “What
do I call you?” Roderick asked “It
doesn’t really matter because by tomorrow, I’ll be you.” The Young man smiled
and his eyes shown a bright violet. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Roderick
lay in his bed staring at the ceiling. It was 7:00 AM. A cold sweat coursed down his brow and caused
his hair to stick to his face. He looked over at his alarm clock flashing 7:00
and buzzing loudly. A few seconds after Roderick left a
man two inches shorter than him, but obviously older walked in quietly. Slowly
picking up Roderick’s wallet, he removed twenty dollars and crept out
again.
After ten minutes the door flew open and Roderick walked back in. “Damn
it, my hair.” stepping in front of the mirror he attempted to move the wet,
matted mess from its entanglement not noticing the small thin crack that formed
as he stepped in front of it. He walked
up to his stereo and hit the Power button as raging guitar riffs and screeching
vocals roared from the speakers. “Turn
that s**t off.” A voice lumbered from behind his door and a body followed”
N***a you black. You can’t’ listen to that s**t”
Roderick cringed. The word N***a
cut him like barbed wire. He hated that
word. He also hated his brother Avery the living embodiment of It. Avery rushed
through the door. He never approved of Roderick leading the lifestyle he did or
the music that came with it. Avery was your typical black stereotype, thuggish,
listened to rap, spoke improper English, and was generally negative. Moving to
the suburbs hadn’t helped his disposition.
Roderick never liked Avery, not in sight or in mind. He’d often times
wondered why his mother didn’t abort him. He was an accident.
Roderick put his clothes on with no hurry and hadn’t even turned to
acknowledge his brother shuffling through his drawer for his keys, wallet
chain, and MP3 player. “You
hear me?” Avery’s tone was annoyed.
“Yeah, but do I care?” Roderick still didn’t turn around. “Man
whatever” Avery walked out the room slightly angered.
All the while Roderick hadn’t noticed that his mirror was cracking nor
did he notice his reflection moving of its own accord. He turned to get his
cell phone from the dresser. He stopped to notice that his reflection was
staring at him. Its gaze was cold and distant.
“What the
hell!?” Roderick stepped forward It made
no attempt to move, if only to watch him move forward. He
raised an eyebrow and tried to touch the mirror. At this it moved to match him.
The mirror rippled like water and as the reflection reached out the glass bent
around its hand. “Oh
s**t!” Roderick Jumped back and hit his bed causing it to make contact with the
wall. Avery
ran into the room “What the f**k happened?”
Roderick looked at the mirror. Nothing was out of place; his reflection
was where it was supposed to be “Uh I slipped...” Roderick looked for something
he could have slipped on, he wasn’t in the mood to deal with his brother
calling him crazy. “On my socks” “Well
keep it down.” Avery was attempting to sound like the adult he was supposed to
be, rather than the Child he was. “You gonna wake da dog.” He slammed the door
behind him. A*****e. Roderick got to his feet put on
his sneakers then picked up his messenger bag lying on the left side of his bed
near the window. He crept passed the mirror regarding it as a sleeping giant.
He opened the door and glanced at the mirror quickly to see if anything had
changed. But all stayed the same. He walked
out his door ignoring the loud music and weed smoke coming from his brother’s
room then continued down the long hall. Roderick stopped in front of his
mother’s room. Natalie kept her room like any other woman. Lots of jewelry, too
many clothes with an abundance of shoes. On her dresser was a five-year-old
picture of her Roderick at 12 and Avery at 23, right next to the new photo of
her and her boyfriend James. There was no indication that his father Malcolm
and his mother had been together or that he had a father. Roderick
never liked the idea of his mother attempting to erase his father from the
family’s collective memory. The methods she used to do so, included but were
not limited to letting the phone ring out when ever Malcolm’s name appeared on
the caller ID and calling Roderick a cab rather than risk a direct encounter
when he visited his father. He
stepped out, jogged down the stairs, opened the front door, and left his house. Roderick
read an old worn copy of the book Vigilance
on the bus ride to school. That was coupled with a song rock, which was
steadily damaging his eardrums so as not to be disturbed. He sat in one of the
single seats to further make sure no one bothered him. Despite his trying the book failed to hold
his attention and his mind teetered between thoughts and dreams, the music as
loud as it was only did to mesh both together. With
heavy eyelids, he glimpsed something like a dog running beside the bus, and
then he began to doze off, glasses hanging off of his face.
“Where are you!?” a loud obnoxious voice behind him broke through the
barrier of guitar riffs and into Roderick’s lucid dreaming. “Oh yeah well hurry
up I ain’t got all day and I gotta meet Trina to go shopping.” Damn, please shut up. Roderick adjusted
his glasses and turned his head to glare at the person only to realize it was
his brother’s girlfriend Latisha. Roderick tried to look away quickly enough so
as not to be noticed but had no luck. “Hey, you’re
A’s brother right?” her voice was even louder although she sat behind him. “Uh, yeah… hi” Roderick trailed off and
looked away “Yeah
well tell him I’m going shopping, so I’m gonna need money.” She said nonchalantly Guess that means he’ll be doing more illegal
s**t or stealing from mom … not that she’d notice. “Sure. I’ll tell him.”
Roderick buried his head in his book. Latisha
leaned over his shoulder and looked at the yellow pages of the book he was
reading. “Damn that book looks old, what is it” she said loudly. Roderick
winced at the sound of her voice and its volume. “It’s Vigilance; it’s about a
young man who goes about saving a city in the mid-west, using the occult.” “Oh,
that’s for school?” “No. It’s for me” “You know, you don’t seem weird” Latisha looked at
him somewhat puzzled “Excuse me?” Roderick raised an eyebrow. “Well Avery said you were weird, you’re trying to be
white and s**t” Son of a b***h. “Listen Avery’s a liar with
a Peter Pan complex.” “What, does
that mean?” Roderick
turned around “It means he’s damn near 30 living with his mother” “Naw, you
lying, he said he was 22” Roderick
had enough sense in his head not to try and contest her. Who knows what his
brother had said to make himself look good and credible. “You’re right. I am
lying. I’m only his brother right?” Latisha
was quiet for the rest of the ride to school. The
hallways were barren except for the few who had tutoring or wanted to be out of
the house. Roderick strolled along nodding to those he knew sitting and
standing. It was 3:00 and with his classes finished he’d bum around for a while,
locate a quite corner to read or a loud open space in which to get lost.
Roderick dreaded his house, even it’s aura was oppressive, his only alternative
was to go to his fathers house. Like he’d
be home, Or crash at Michele’s and well that wasn’t doing anything but
causing trouble. “I’m
sorry Randy, its over.” The familiar monotone yet feminine voice raised an
octave. Roderick turned his head to see the tail end of a bad scene. “But Michele, can’t we just talk a
little, I mean, we can work this out.” “No,
we can’t, you’re too jealous…first you start a fight at the movies, because a
guy, who was obviously gay, said he liked my shoes and now you’re accusing me
of sleeping with Roderick?” “What
am I supposed to think, you go out like every night with the guy, to the arcade
and then I found out that n***a’s spent the night at your crib?” Randy gave his
best thuggish scowl. “I haven’t even spent the night with you.” “It’s
not like that, his older brother attacked him with a bottle one night and he
was afraid to go home.” “Well tell that b***h a*s n***a to
handle his own problems.” Randy yelled. “Randy , I don’t turn away friends
and when we started dating you told me you had no problem with me having a male
best friend.” Michele crossed her arms and cocked her hip. “And since you’ve
shown me you can’t do that, we’re over.” Randy turned and walked away, caught
sight of Roderick and walked toward him, Randy was four inches tall than
Roderick and about forty pounds heavier. “You’re real lucky there are people
here right now, because I’d f**k you up.” He breathed heavily . “But if I catch
you alone or outside of school, it’s on b***h a*s n***a.” With that he pushed
passed Roderick and down the hall way. Michele came up to Roderick and sighed.
“Don’t worry about him Roderick he’s all talk.” “I’m sorry I was a party to that.”
He replied, a melancholy expression plastered on his face. “Maybe we shouldn’t
hang out for a while, at least until you two can sort things out.” “No, this has nothing to do with
you.” She sighed again, her newly braided hair framing her angular mahogany
face. “It’s my bad choice in men, I
don’t know why I can’t I ever find one that’s not a jealous, thug with violent
tendencies.” Roderick shrugged, he didn’t like to
think about why Michele kept dating the wrong guys, mainly because he wasn’t
one of them. “It’ll work out for you, look at me, I haven’t been with anyone
in…forever.” He allowed himself a bitter laugh. Michele had been Roderick’s best friend since he’d
first attended Endwater high school. Endwater was the second largest city on
the eastern seaboard and had been a trading post for many years. It was divided
into five districts; Roderick lived in Endwater Flats a suburb of Endwater
city, which was the center of commerce. The three other districts were Endwater
sound, which severed as a port fort the City, Endwater Fields which was
literally a university island and Michele
looked apologetically at him and then swiftly changed the subject. “So what’s
up?” “Not
much, except I realized that seeing you here is the best part of my day.
Roderick exhaled slowly. “I’m now deciding whether I should cry about that now
or later.” Michele smirked and slapped him on
the shoulder. “Man, you always got jokes.” “Yeah, I was thinking of trying
stand up.” Roderick said with a tinge of melancholy. She was the brightest part
of his day. “So are we heading to the chest
tonight or what?” The Cyber chest or the ‘Chest’ as it was called was a local
arcade, she and Roderick liked to frequent. “Sure I’m just gonna, take my stuff home and meet
you there.” Roderick adjusted his glasses nervously. “Ok, I’ll be waiting for you.” She giggled and
smiled with just a little seduction behind it. Maybe there was something to Randy’s assumptions. “I’m going to head home and change.” With
that she turned and walked away. Roderick stared at her, his forlorn
eyes held until, a swift movement to his right caught his attention, a shadow
on the periphery of his vision, Must be
imagining things, that’s been happening a lot lately. Traveling down the hall he turned right,
making his way into the bathroom. It was cold, the smell of urine filled the air, the
once white porcelain walls now marred with graffiti, and the steel stalls were
riddled with fake phone numbers and scribbles. Standing in front of a urinal he
emptied his bladder, Whew I needed that. At that moment the hairs on Roderick’s neck stood like
soldiers, something had moved past him, fast. “Hello.” He turned, zipped up his pants and looked around. What the hell is going on? There was no sign of who may have been behind him and if
someone was there, I’ve gotta get out of
here. Turning on the sink Roderick
lathered up his hands and splashed his face with cold water. Chill out man. “Yeah relax.” The voice wasn’t behind him but in front of
him, in the mirror. Roderick looked up and came face to face with himself,
well a version of himself. His hair was long and he wore stylish wire frame
glasses. He had on the same clothes but wore them differently, better. Roderick
began to breathe heavily and he shook just a little bit, as his mind attempted
to adjust to what it was seeing. “I’m
losing it right?” Roderick put his hands over his eyes, shaking his head
causing his pony tailed locks to bob. “This isn’t happening, a daylight
hallucination, like in that movie I saw.” “Relax
man, you know me, we spoke last night.” The reflection put it’s hands up in a
calming motion. “I’m just here to let you know you’re about to be in some
trouble.” “Trouble.
What kind of trouble?” Roderick still cradled his head in his hands but looked
up between his fingers. “From where, from whom?” At that moment a fist rammed in to
Roderick’s jaw nearly lifting him off his feet, spinning in slow motion he
caught a glimpse of his attacker. Randy,
I should’ve known. He hit the floor with thud. “Think I’m gonna let a b***h made n***a like you take my
girl.” Randy landed a boot to Roderick’s ribs. Tears streamed down his face, as he clutched his side,
another followed lifting him off of the floor momentarily. “Get up.” Randy yelled. Roderick rolled over to face Randy blood trickling from
his mouth, You need help. The voice was so clear in Roderick’s mind so familiar
even more so than the pain he felt right now. “Help Me,” Roderick
whispered. “What?” Randy grabbed Roderick by his collar and hoisted
him up. “what did you say b***h, You want help.” He delivered a cross to
Roderick’s jaw but didn’t let him go, another punch came as Randy began to
pummel him. You need my help I’m taking over. At that moment Roderick felt another presence
enter his mind and then blacked out. © 2010 Nelo Maxwell |
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Added on January 8, 2010 Last Updated on May 16, 2010 AuthorNelo MaxwellBrooklyn,, NYAboutMy real name isn't Nelo Maxwell, It's Ra'Chaun Rogers. I'm a comic book writer, singer, guitarist, sometimes mc and all around artist. I had an account here before and i forgot the password so i decid.. more..Writing
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