Why Won't You Fall Into My Arms?

I heard the bleeping in my dreams, that horrible siren of noise which washed over my entire being. Around and around my head it went. Around and around and around. Never ending.

Subconsciously, I reached over to where my alarm usually was and slammed down a hand hard to shut it up. But it refused to. In fury I pounded on it so hard something crunched angrily under my hand.

I opened my sleep heavy eyes to see the green clock mangled and sickly looking, wires sticking out of its bashed open head. I didn’t care though, it had always made a horrible noise and been one birthday present I’d definitely wished for the receipt for. What I did care about, though, was the siren still echoing around my room.

It wasn’t my alarm clock. It wasn’t the fire alarm (my brother’s ‘skills’ in the kitchen had made me well acquainted with that particular noise). If I hadn’t been so dead tired I probably would have started to panic that I’d gone insane. That the noise was in fact not an audible noise at all but rather the clogs in my head spinning out of control and slowly breaking down.

Groggily, my body heaved out of bed to move along the landing then down the stairs. It was everywhere; I couldn’t even escape the noise in my bathroom.

“Jason!” I yelled out when the noise was becoming unbearable. “Where are the drugs in this joint? God, trust you to hide away the paracetamol!”

I wouldn’t have put it past my older brother to do just that. If it was possible, he’d have me at home 24/7 wrapped up in cotton wool and watching some innocent children’s programme on television. Everything seemed to pose a threat. A late night party on a Saturday night? Jamie assumed I’d be drinking myself into oblivion and sleeping with half the town.

Nobody replied to my calls.

“Oh for God’s sake,” I cursed as I abandoned the kitchen to rake through our small house for him. In my desperate search for drugs to end my headache I’d not even realised that all usual signs of Jamie were missing. There was no burning toast in the toaster and the usual rock music channel on our kitchen television was eerily absent.

I was an independent girl of sixteen and I didn’t need anybody to hold my hand through our morning routine but it was strange that Jamie was missing. Sure, he liked to party sometimes and do all the things 21 year olds enjoy doing (well, 21 year olds who have to look after their not-yet-a-legal-adult sister) but he was very responsible.

Maybe it was just the strange noise making me paranoid.

“Stupid bloody brother” I muttered angrily to myself as if I wasn’t obviously alone and as if everything wrong with my morning up to this point had been all Jamie’s fault. I swung my schoolbag over my shoulder and slammed the door behind me, trying to prove a point.

“If you want anything done you have to do it yourself.”

It didn’t come as a surprise that the piercing siren noise still sung sharply even when I was outside. My ears had become somewhat accustomed to it, passing it off as something like background noise.

Walking to school was the same experience of mundane countryside, the same old roads and plain houses, except missing one vital thing: other people. There was nobody walking on the other side of the street. No old man walking his dog. Or other students making their way to school. Or mothers tottering along their young children and fussing over them.

Had the entire town been invited to something or a bank holiday that I wasn’t aware of? But these ideas were ludicrous for various reasons:

1] It was a Wednesday morning.

2] Adults and children rarely mixed with each other and teenagers definitely kept to themselves.

3] My cute-fluffy-dog calendar at home held no italic writing under the date claiming it was any Saint’s day.

4] I had a piece of English homework that was due today so at least I could count on my evil teacher to be around.

There wasn’t just a lack of pedestrians, there were no cars noisily speeding by and not even the friendly lolly-pop lady patrolled the zebra crossing with her break-your-face grin. This was starting to become weird. And weirder still there were quite a few cars just stranded on the road with wide open doors that invited in every car thief around, aside from the fact that there were none around. It was as if everyone had just stopped what they were doing and vanished.

I paused at the chemist on my short journey to school, still harbouring a drilling headache courtesy of that noise. The bell chirped as I pushed the door open. It hardly came as a surprise that the three old gossiping women no longer stood by the laxative drugs or any other medicine counter. The shop was just like the street: deserted.

I was beginning to become irritated, irrationally irritated. I simply threw the money on the counter to storm outside with my drugs. Swallowing one quickly, my body returned its attention to getting to school simply as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

Unnerved and becoming increasingly more scared my legs moved quicker. And quicker still. Soon I was running as fast as I could to the school building that I loathed so deeply. The doors flew open at my demanding touch and I didn’t slow down as I flew through the halls.

It was as I had thought, and I had feared. Not a soul.

Then a notion struck me. Shakily, I pulled out my mobile and dialled the first number that I could think of: Mary, my best friend. It rung and rung but nobody answered. I tried 3 other friends before I lost the will to endeavour anymore.

I was scared, no, actually, I was bloody petrified. A group of lockers behind propped me up as my knees gave way.

I was alone. I was alone. There was nobody around, no explanation, just a horrifying isolation which had me curling my arms around myself like a cocoon. I wished to just melt back into the lockers. To just become something inanimate. I was so scared in that moment that I irrationally wanted to scream, and cry, and hyperventilate.

My body initiated the latter, the air around me becoming thick and impossible to drag down my throat. I wheezed it in in heavy gulps, feeling like I was drowning. I probably was. I imagined the headline for that, my mind evaporating everywhere at once.

‘First Girl Ever To Drown Without Water!’

I may have found that funny if I wasn’t seconds away from bursting into tears and slowly turning purple with my battle for more air.

“I should have known you were behind this little stunt,” a boy’s voice pierced through the stabbing sound of my laboured breathing mixed with that constant siren. In surprise and relief I let out a shriek, my airways widening as if all they’d ever needed was a good shock.

“Oh calm down it’s just me” his tone was far from calming.

Jack Adams?

It took me a few seconds to calm down my erratic heart which was shooting around my chest like an early firework. I was relieved in a strangled way. I was so glad to not be entirely alone, even if the knowledge that it was him made it bittersweet.

“There’s nobody else here,” I stammered out.

He softly hit a hand to his head and made a sound that resembled a “duh.” Even in a crisis like this he still had the energy to be a jerk. In the interest of his well-being and my sanity I chose to ignore it. I levelled my jittery gaze on him and slowly began to unwrap my arms from my body.

“Where’s everyone gone? Are you the only one? Did you see anyone else?”

Then a heavy thought almost bowled me over. Was it possible that Jack knew all about this, that he was actually the reason for this? Perhaps it was all a big joke at my expense. Perhaps everyone would suddenly come jumping out with a “surprise” and I’d fall back into the floor with relief.

“Do you know what’s happened here?”

“I’m just as in the dark as you are sweetheart,” he said bitterly.

And then I was angry. His words had made me angry but the fact that Jack wasn’t behind this infuriated me. It meant that what was happening here was a lot more serious than just a complex practical joke. Somehow, it was Jack’s fault, it was still his fault.

“What is wrong with you Adams? What is so wrong with your head that you don’t see how bad this situation is? Can’t you just work with me for a minute and shove your superior attitude somewhere until after we resolve this?”

“Just shut up Soph!.”

I blinked at him stupidly. White hot rage ran thickly through my veins just seconds later, making my hands clench into stark white fists.

“Don’t tell me to shut up when you are the one who made me so angry!”

“Well what do you want me to say? I’m sorry? Because sorry at this moment in time isn’t going to help us figure out what the hell is happening and why that sound is hurting my head,” he snapped.

Narrowing my eyes into slits, I evaluated him standing before me. He was dressed normally for him; tight dark jeans and a chequered shirt with a few buttons undone at the top as if the oppressing heat was the biggest thing we had to worry about. He looked so normal; especially frowning at me like that. It was almost too easy to believe we were just too caught up in an argument to acknowledge the people around us. That the moment would pass as soon as we turned away.

But Jack did have a point. He wasn’t going to say sorry and I wouldn’t have accepted an apology anyway. I certainly didn’t want to be stuck in a limbo with him, or anything for that matter, so I nodded my head in a temporary truce.

Finally deciding my legs were steady enough to stand, I pushed myself up from the ground. Only to find that my legs weren’t steady enough yet. And I collapsed back onto the ground in an unattractive heap.

A hand reached out to grab my arm and heaved me up leaving a burning handprint mark on my skin. I half toppled into Jack’s body before righting myself, taking a large step backwards and an even larger breath inwards. There was a cruel blush crawling up my neck. I hated that I had looked anything but invincible in front of him.

“Out of all the people in the whole world to be left with,” he sighed mournfully “I get you.”

“You’re no Prince Charming yourself,” I bristled.

Jack just rolled his eyes up to the ceiling and paused for a few brief seconds, I could almost see his silent plea for strength. Well too bad for him that I could dish it out just as much as I could take it.

I wiped my hand across my forehead although it was dry, trying to relieve the stress of this sudden situation. We began walking. His body stayed slightly ahead of mine as if walking side by side would bring him too much trouble.

“Give me your phone,” he commanded suddenly.

I gave him a disgusted look instead.

“Use your own ‘state of the art’ phone,” I snapped incredulously “and anyway ringing people will get you nowhere. I already tried, there’s nobody around to answer.”

“Just give me your phone Soph,” he caught hold of my wrist and swung me round to face him.

“Hands off,” I snatched myself away, face burning in frustration and embarrassment. Hands went wandering purposefully down my back until they reached the top of my jeans. I froze. The smirk on his face was almost audible it was so strong.

And then he was groping around in my back pockets, brushing against my ass in the most perverted way possible and taking far too much pleasure out of it. I screamed at him but he’d already retreated. In his hand was my small mobile phone.

I pulled my own hand back and released it sharply across his face. The sound of the slap echoed around the empty hallway.

“Ouch,” he held his inflamed cheek tenderly “what was that for?”

“You were touching me up, bastard.”

“Oh don’t flatter yourself; I was searching for your phone.”

“You could have just explained why you wanted it, Neanderthal. Most people don’t just take what they want.”

“Most people don’t have a smile this charming and hair this perfect,” Jack grinned, still nursing an inflamed cheek.

“Most people aren’t arrogant assholes.”

“Soph, the only reason you’re upset right now is because you think I didn’t enjoy touching your ass. I did, don’t worry, I just had more pressing issues to worry about than your pride,” his stupid smirk was driving me insane.

“My pride?” my voice rose a few octaves in pure indignation. Never in my life had I known a human being more selfish and conceited than Jack Adams and yet here he was, calling me proud.

“Sweetheart there’s really no need to look so outraged,” he let the sly grin reveal his dazzling white teeth.

Forcefully, I pushed him away from me and began stalking quickly down the remaining hallway back into the sunshine, fighting back the urge to slap him again.

Behind me I was aware that my old fashioned ringtone was blearing out. I was still seething to myself, stomping over to one of the benches and surveying the grounds with mild apprehension. It took Jack a few moments before he emerged from the school, still wearing his infuriating grin.

“At least we know they work” he announced happily “I typed your number in my phone and yours actually rung. This way we know the lines aren’t down and we can communicate in case one of us gets lost or something…” that grin wavered slightly in a sign of guilt. “Sorry about stealing your mobile” Jack held it out to me in a peace offering.

Narrowing my eyes at him, I snatched it back and held it close. Just the thought of Jack touching something so personal to me had shivers ricocheting down my spine.

“Oh and by the way…” Jack’s devious grin returned “David Griffin, star quarterback, has a crush of Bree Appleby, not you.”

His stark remark made me realise that he’d been filtering through some of my texts which held trusted information about my childish crush on the high school football player. My cheeks burnt with the knowledge.

I slapped him hard again, at a loss for words before all the expletives I knew came crashing down on me.

“Do you even understand the concept of something being private? Or did that lesson fly over your shallow head just like all the other lessons life has failed to teach you,” I practically spat.

Jack didn’t even bother trying to tend to his cheek but instead growled deeply in warning and moved quickly closer to me.

“Just you try that again Soph and I’ll have to take serious measures. Measures which would make even you blush.”

As if on cue a nasty flush crawled up my cheeks.

“But then again that’s not too hard now, is it? Not for a virgin girl like you,” he smirked and let his eyes flicker down my body. He was evaluating me. And by the gleam in those eyes I knew he was picturing me in something I would never consciously ascent to.

“Why don’t you go home and jack off to your reflection Jack,” I hissed spitefully “I can cope here just fine by myself. It isn’t like there is any real danger when nobody else is around.”

His smirk dropped, a frown quickly replacing it.

“I may be a jerk Soph but I’m not going to leave a girl here on her own when we don’t know what’s happening.”

“Fine then Romeo, what is your save-the-world plan now?” I asked with sarcasm dripping in every word.

“We go back to my house to see if the computer and television are working, communication doesn’t always have to be a text Soph.”

I laughed bitterly and turned myself fully to stare at him.

“How many times has that worked on a girl, Jack?”

His smirk returned “it’s cute that you think I even have to try to get a girl to come home with me.”

“Then it must be adorable that you think for even a second that I’m going anywhere with you,” I mimicked his expression.

“Oh Soph, are you giving me an excuse to carry you back to my house?” he asked dangerously, taking a large step towards me.

I flipped him off but set off for his house anyway, hating how he could intimidate me into doing what he said. If it wasn’t for the fact that his touch made me nauseas then I would have chanced running off. No company at all was better than Jack Adams. But I knew he wasn’t on the football team just because he looked good.

Not that he looks good… at all.

Moodily, I stomped off back through the deserted town before realising I had no idea where Jack’s house was. I rolled my eyes and stopped dramatically, making sure I tapped my foot to show how impatient I was. He swaggered over with an inflated ego too big for this town even when there were no other people around.

“Looks like I’ll have to wait for another opportunity then Soph.”