Kyle Young

 

           “Ah, life is great.” Living in a mansion, and having a butler catering to my every whim is amazing. I love it so much. All I have to say is, ‘Steven get me this’ and ‘Steven get me that’ and he’ll he there doing what I ask, normally being a step ahead of me. Sitting by my fireplace, reading novels and letting my money do my work for me feels so good. Sipping an ice cold strawberry daiquiri, and never being under stress. It’s everyone else’s dream.

            BEEP. BEEP.

            “What’s that? Steven, please stop that awful noise.”

            BEEP. BEEP.

            The shrill sound grew louder as I was brought back into reality.  Hitting the snooze button, I woke up with a loud, long groan.  Apparently it’s my own dream as well. If only life were that easyt for me.  Life isn't too bad, but it’s not amazing in a downtown slum like this.  The city, at the very least, is filled with surprises.  The grimy streets of New York City are not beautiful with litter like gum and dirty condoms, and the rats in alleyways.  They're not just on the sidewalks either; they're on the streets, and in the park.  In general, anywhere you go you find this type of litter.  I guess there are a lot of people who want to populate the world, nowadays.

            I finally got out of bed, starting the normal ritual of my life.  After getting ready I grab a wild berry pop-tart, God's best to go breakfast, and headed out.  Trudging down the four flights of stairs, I prepare myself for the streets again.  As soon as I step out the door, I still give a big, "Ugh...My God."  No matter how many times I smell the piss from the alleys, the rotting food on the ground and the grimy taste from the sewers' scent, I never get used to it.

            I only have to walk four or five blocks to the coffee shop, so I normally walk swiftly in that direction.  Being a busboy isn't too much fun, but it's the best a struggling actor can do.  It is an easy way to meet an enormous amount of diverse people, though.  So, who knows?   Maybe, someone I meet will have a connection with an agent or director and right there will be my big break!

            As I finally arrive at the coffee shop, and walk in to smell the aroma of coffee beans, I get a warm feeling inside.  It smells exquisite, especially compared to the outside.  It's also great to see other employees, and seeing the friends that I've made here.  Even though I hate busing tables, I don't mind the register at all.  It puts me right there with the smell of coffee and...

            “Hey, Kyle” I heard, being greeted by that familiar voice.

            “What’s up, Ryan?”
            “Nothing really. How ‘bout you?”  Ryan was the greatest person you could ever meet.  I've known him for a good amount of years, and although he won't admit it, he's practically a saint to anyone and everyone.  He also has a fair amount of luck with the ladies.  Everyday at least three girls ask me about him.  Which mean a lot of girls are filled with disappointment, since he's taken.  I'm not surprised he's already taken, I mean a lot of these women mention some new good-looking feature about him, and it would seem like they never say the same comment twice.  I definitely cannot say I don't envy him, but I am at least somewhat glad that there are girls who come in here and flirt with me, too.  Of course I'm taken, but a little attention does help to give my self-esteem a boost.

            Before Ryan met me, though, no one would look at me twice.  I couldn't blame them; I was a complete mess.  I was drinking a huge amount of booze towards the end of high-school, and my depression didn't help the cause.  My father died, and not having a male figure to look after you hurts...  It was a complete blow to my stomach that ricocheted up to break my heart when I was given the news.  As my mother hardly stayed at home, I failed to see any happiness.  I never threw parties to fill the void because I knew the void was too deep in my soul to be filled.  There must have been a dozen times I've contemplated suicide, and there were two times that I tried to commit to it. 

            The good news out of the high school tragedy that I lived in was that I met Ryan.  I was his main focus at one point, just as he was to me. I had to hang out with him constantly to stay satisfied until I was well enough to handle myself.  It was almost an obsession at first because I couldn’t stop feeling bad for myself until I had known him for what seemed like the longest time. He had taken me in as family, and was always there for me.  I was lucky to have ever met him.  Although I would have felt like I never deserved him in a time that seems so long ago, I now know he must have been sent from God to save me from what I begged to be saved from.

            “Kyle? Kyle?! ” Ryan said, trying to get my attention.

            “Oh, I’m sorry. I’m okay I guess.  It's just I'm tired.  How long are you working?” I asked him.

            “Until 5:30. Why?”

            “I was just wondering if you want to hang out after work.”

            “Sure.  When are you off?"

            "Six o'clock..."  I said with a frown.

            "I’ll wait for you.”

            “Alright. Thanks!”            

            During the day we both worked our tails off. Saturday is normally the busiest and hardest day of the week, and today was no different.  Ryan and I were the most active people and after working here for awhile, we created our own cycle. We would switch off every thirty minutes or so between register and bus boy. It works for us and surprisingly it makes things both easier and less boring.  Ryan continued to help me when his shift was over since one of the employees was late.  He really didn’t mind since he had nothing better to do anyways.  When my shift was over, we went out to eat dinner at this new Mexican restaurant down the street.

            “So, do you still want to be an actor?” he asked me while scarfing down on his own dinner.  

            “Mhmm…. What about you? I doubt you want to stay at the coffee shop.  Mmm….this is good.” I said, taking another bite of the amazing enchilada that was melting in my mouth at the moment.

            “Well, no, but I don’t have nothing going for me.  Just rejections I suppose.  So I guess I’m stuck at the coffee shop, for a while." He said, with a little disappointment in his voice. He looked back down at his plate, so I interrupted whatever train of thought he had.

            “You’ll find something. Belie-” I started to say, trying to comfort him.

            “But-" Whatever he was going to say, he wouldn't say it because I was going to continue my sentence before he got a word in.

            “Believe me, you will. I know it; no one can deny you a shot at your dream.  You’ve got potential.  I've seen your work you know.”  He looked at me with a ‘yeah right’ look. “I have! You just don’t give yourself enough credit.  Neither do those people who have the stupidity to reject your art.” He laughed a little and softly said a thank you, but it was barely loud enough for me to hear it. We finished eating and left, heading towards Union Square.  Walking on the sidewalks of the city got us talking.  Out of the most random thoughts we’d talk about a lot of things from the weather to the homelessness.

            "You know, it truly makes me feel guilty that we actually live somewhere with heat and air-conditioning while there are many starving children just begging to be fed."

            "Yeah," I replied contemplating his simple, yet powerful sentence.  "I guess spare change isn't enough to fill that compassion for others. Huh?  It wouldn't satisfy me either."  He agreed.

            "I just... I don't know."  We kept walking under the streetlights until someone brought up another topic of conversation.  Since neither one of us knowing how to lead that off onto another tangent, we stayed silent.  Until I accidently stepped in our next conversation starter.

            ”Ok, who SERIOUSLY finds the pleasure to do it right here on this spot?"

            “Not a clue, dude. It’s not too bad, when you get use to it though."  I scoffed.  "It’s you who can’t handle it.” he challenged.

            “Just because I don’t like it doesn’t mean I have problems or something.”

            “That’s true. You’ve always had problems no matter what!" He said running from me and towards the park.

            “Hey!” I said, running after him. I chased after him and finally caught up to him.  When I did I gave him a good hit to the arm. 

            "What was that for?!"

            "For making me run after you and for your little comments!" I retorted back to him.  Exhausted from running after our long day, we sat down on one of the dark metallic benches that faded into the night.

            “Are you still dating Sarah?” He asked me while catching his breath.

            “Yes, I am. How are you and Emily?”

“We've been doing well.  Tomorrow is actually our monthiversity!”  I snickered to his 'subtle' excitement.  "Laugh it up.  How long have you guys been together then?"

            “Three years, and I plan on asking her week after next to marry me when we go on our trip.”

            “You mean on the fourth?”

            “Yeah, I figured that would be really special. When we are drinking champagne under the fire works, she’ll find the ring in her glass. It’ll be when we are at the beach that night.”

            “That’s cool. I’m positive she will say yes.” He smiled, as did I. I couldn’t wait. “You must love her a lot.”

            “Yeah, I do.  I’m so nervous for it, though.”

            “Don’t be, dude! If you love her and she feels the same way, and if you both trust each other then it will be okay. I promise you.”

            “Thanks.” He gave me a friendly hug and we got up off the ground, and started walking home. I began to think about Sarah and home. I looked down at the sidewalk and streets and asked, “Do you ever feel like you want to get out of this place?”

            “Sometimes I do, you want to?”

            “Yeah, like you, just sometimes.” We walked to his complex since it was on the way to mine.  I hugged him good bye and kept walking home. She wouldn’t say no, right?  If she loved me like I know she loves me, she would have to say yes.  Even if she’s not ready or if she believes we both aren’t then we can get married in a few years.  We can still be engaged though, can’t we?

            When I got to my complex, I ran up the stairs. I felt the doorknob, and sure enough it was unlocked. I then looked at my watch.  10:45. Sarah would normally be getting ready for bed right now.  I walked to the bedroom, and I was surprised to not find her there. 

That's weird... Where is she?  When I came out of the bedroom and saw the kitchen across the hall, the trashcan caught my eye and I noticed it was empty.  She must be taking out the trash, then.  For some reason I had the feeling to check on her, and I took it as me just needing to see her after being away from her in the past day. When I went to the open window in the living room, I looked out into the back alley, and caught my breath.  Hard.  Hard enough for me to feel a shot of pain in my chest.  I saw Sarah, like expected, but another figure was what caught me off guard. To my dismay, there was a man behind her hurting her! My Sarah, who didn’t deserve any type of pain was getting her head hit into the brick wall against the dumpsters.  My teeth automatically clamped together as her face was grinded into the hard stone.  Her face looked like it was peeling away, sliver by sliver.  The constantly blood ran down her face and over the man's rough fingers.  As the man revealed a knife in his hand I couldn’t help but make the biggest mistake in my life. It was pure reflex for me to scream Sarah's name, though, no matter what the danger.  The pain was unbearable and I guess I wanted to save her.  However if my mind was even halfway functioning I would have known that would give the opposite effect.  

             The man looked up at me and a shiver shot up my spine quickly and my head shook from the reverberation.  I stood still in shock as he slit Sarah’s throat ear to ear, and then dropped her.  Blood gushed over him and he didn’t seem to care.  He just cared that I saw him do that to my Sarah.  His eyes locked onto me and I was the target now.  I was the prey, and he was the hunter.  His eyes traveled to the back door and looked straight up and over.  As he was doing this, my mind registered only two things.  Sarah was dead, and I was next.  As I watched Sarah’s body slump to the ground, a pool of blood formed around her while more continued to gush out, I stood frozen in shock and despair. In my mind four words raced over and over again.  Just be a dream, just be a dream, just be a dream...

As my mind tried to reprogram itself to actually have any mental capacity to think the killer started sprinting to the back door.  My fight and flight mode finally kicked in and I locked the door when I recovered and knew I needed a place to hide. I looked around as the man started banging down the door. I kept looking around the room and my eyes finally settled on the couch. I’m not too big, so I dived and rolled under it. As soon as I got under it and was barely hidden, he busted open the door. 

As he entered I finally had a better glimpse of him. His charcoal hair was ruffled, and his muscles were still flexing from a few minutes ago. His face was rough as he had a stubble chin and a sharp jaw. I looked at his face and his eyes told me he was burning with a passion to kill.  His white shirt was stained with splattered blood and his knife was dripping the dark red substance as well.  Seeing Sarah's blood fall onto my carpet made the fate of my love run trough my mind again, except at an even slower pace.  A pace that I simply didn't have time for at this moment.

            He was breathing heavily, and for a bulky man like him I don’t think the door would have caused him to be tired so easily. I figured Sarah must have put up quite a fight. The killer's eyes swiftly scoped through the living room. His forehead was creased from rage, and his eyes were looking to lock in on his target.  He ran down the hallway frustrated. I heard the closets opening, the ruffling of clothes and I heard the crashes of things being broken and tossed onto the ground. He came back into the living room and began to search around.  As my heart start pounding hard enough for me to hear it, I held my breath.  I felt light beads of sweat roll down my face as the man who killed Sarah stood a few feet away from me.

            Out of sheer dumb luck, he didn't look under the couch.  The couch has flaps hiding the legs, which to a visitor in this house, would look as if it was only part of the couch.  I could just see him through a small crack from the corner of the fabric, as he frantically searched for me. He went to the open window and I lost him due to no peripheral vision, but my hearing remained the same. I heard him angrily cuss and when he came into view he was walking out of the apartment.  I watched him exit down the left of the hallway, which was towards the stairs, causing me to lose one of my few chances to escape.

            I waited for awhile and then got out from under the couch. My heart was beating so hard and fast I thought it was going to explode out of my chest during one of its next beats. So many questions were going through my mind. Why did he kill Sarah, out of all the people? She obviously wouldn’t have money on her.  She was in her pajamas for God's sake. Is there something I don’t know about?  I mean she did tell me her job was dangerous, but it was just a secretary job in the office of a government building… wasn’t it? Most importantly, how do I get out of here and live?

            As I contemplated how to escape, I didn’t know which way to leave, but I knew I had to get out of there. I noticed that he cut the phone line to the phone on the wall as I stepped on the wire from the wall while getting up. My best bet was to get to Ryan’s apartment. Someone I could trust. I didn’t want to go through the complex hallway because the killer could just be standing around a corner or in the stairway.  The window was probably my best bet.  Yes, I could go down the fire escape and sneak past him. I went out the window and starting going down the ladder.  As I started to go down the ladder, however, I felt something wet on my head. Curious, I felt my head and I couldn’t place what it was. I looked at my had to find out what the mysterious substance was.  It was a dark red liquid.  Looking up I saw him up there staring back at me.  When he saw that I saw him, he started quickly sliding down the ladder.

            I slid down the ladders as fast as I could, trying to get away.  He was catching up due to his height advantage and I needed to get away fast.  I tripped as soon as I landed on the ground and was quickly covered with blood.  Sarah’s lost blood.  The blood he caused to be spilt.  As I looked up without meaning to, the last image of Sarah's face I would ever have flooded my mind.  Her face was scraped up, enough to almost see her bone in certain places where the muscle was almost translucent.  Rocks and debris stuck out in the worst places, and blood was still escaping out of her lips and on her forehead.  The image of her death couldn’t be held back much longer, although I tried my best. It was in the front of my mind, but I had to keep reminding myself to not grieve right there. 

As, I looked back, the killer was about to go down the last ladder.  I scrambled to my feet and ran around the complex.  I ran across the busy road, not caring whether I would face death from a car.  That would be preferable and quicker than what Sarah faced.   So far I got away, or so I hoped. I ran all the way to Ryan’s apartment building and ran up the stairs skipping two at a time. I banged on his door as hard as I could. He answered the door with a tired look on his face that quickly changed into a wide-eyed stare. His jaw seemed locked as he tried to close it to speak.  “What happened?”

            I went in; my eyes clouded by tears and just said, “S-shower? P-please?”

            “It’s down the hall and on your left.”  He looked at me with a puzzled, worried look.  However, he must not have wanted to bother me until I took a relaxing shower.  If only it was slightly relaxing, I would not be shaking so hard.  I cleaned myself up, still crying over the blood spilling into the drain.  I tasted the mix of salty water and metallic pennies as it all ran down my face.  The remembrance of Sarah’s agonized face frozen when she finally died came back to mind. Her loud whimpers and the loud scraping of her face on the brick wall ringed in my ears. The smell of blood over me returned to my nose. All thoughts not willing to stay back, but I was no longer trying to stop them. I was alone and had no danger this time to make me stop the grief. However, I knew that no matter how longed I grieved now, it was only the beginning of it. I stepped out of the shower after I began to notice the cold water falling onto my head.

During my shower, Ryan graciously left me a towel and clothes.  After I changed into Ryan’s spare clothes, I went into the living room and sat on the couch next to Ryan.  He looked at me and gave me open arms and I rested on him.  He rubbed my back and was trying to comfort me, so he waited until I stopped weeping enough for me to talk.

            “What happened?” he asked.

            “S-Sarah…” I said shivering. My body felt like it was convulsing again as I failed to keep my hands and arms from shaking.  It was as if a vibration was flowing through me and it was broken, staying on 'max'.  He held me a little tighter, and I felt his body heat warm me up against the cold air from the AC.  However, the coldness from what I just witnessed not too long ago was what caused me to lightly shake. “She… She…” I whispered in his ear. Most of my words were barely coherent, while the rest were mumbles.  “She was m-murdered. I s-saw it…blood…all over…I seen…killer came in…saw him and tripped…covered in b-blood-d….y-you.” He tried to understand. He, too, was shocked and all he could truly do was apologize for my unfortunate event. I was sure he would ask me again later what happened when I calmed down, if I calmed down. Rivers of tears seemed to pour out that night.  So many that there were enough tears to soak his shoulder.

            I did feel lucky to have a friend as good as him, but I wished he wasn’t a good friend for this reason.  I would never want to come to him because Sarah died.  I only wish Sarah wouldn’t be dead.  That I got home a little sooner.  There had to be some reason she was killed.  Even though I didn’t want to relive it once more, that scene still played in my head.  I begged it to stop, to just be able to relax as a friend was trying to calm me down as well.  The only problem was I couldn't shut my mind down. 

I must have been sitting with Ryan for hours. When I cried myself dry, Ryan tried to get me to go to sleep.  He dragged me to his bed and he decided to sleep on the couch mentioning that I was a guest.  I ended up falling asleep on a thought I had as I stared at the cracked ceiling.  The last thought in my mind was of the cracks that seemed to represent the separating and breakage between me and Sarah.