Status: Read, Stay with me... Please!
Look at Me
13.
Hayden stared at the house. At ten o’clock at night it looked the same as it always did. Just a building… just four walls and a ceiling. But not his home, never that.
And when he stepped inside, what would he find? His mother’s bloodied body. Maybe alive, maybe dead.
Hayden knew he should run in as fast as he could. He knew should find out if she was okay. But something had him frozen in his tracks. The same something that trails cold fingers down your spine and infuses your veins with ice.
FEAR, pure unadulterated fear.
Closing his eyes, Hayden focused on his breathing.
IN.
OUT.
IN.
OUT.
Then he stepped around the side of the building and found the window that led into his room. It was unlocked, because he regularly used it as an escape route out of the house. So, he pulled it slowly open and climbed onto his bed, which was on the other side.
Hayden’s room was pitch black, except for the slightly greenish glow of his alarm clock. So, he felt nervously around for anything he might bump into. But the small area was relatively bare and there was not much to trip over.
After a few seconds that seemed to stretch on endlessly, Hayden made his way to the door. He carefully opened it and peeked into the hall. It was empty.
Hayden listened for footsteps or sounds of any kind, but the entire building seemed deathly silent.
So, he crept into the hall and stepped quietly toward the bathroom. The door was open and harsh yellow light was spilling out. He braced himself as he rounded the doorframe and looked into the room, but he wasn’t prepared for what he saw. He could never be prepared for the sight of his mother lying prone in her own blood, her skin as white as his and her eyes wide and unseeing.
Someone was screaming. Was it him? Was he screaming?
Then somewhere else in the house there was a loud crash. Seconds later a wild eyed Jack rushed into the hall, his shirt stained crimson in places, his knuckles broken open.
When he saw Hayden, Jack’s upper lip pulled up in a feral way and he lunged forward. But he didn’t know. He didn’t realize there was something feral inside Hayden. Something waiting to break free…
Fuck!
Hayden rapidly blinked his eyes as he tried to make sense of his surroundings. It was too dark to see clearly, but it looked like he was back in the forest. But then what had happened? Had he changed? Had he shifted into his other self?
NO.
That was impossible, because that would only happen when he was in complete control of himself. Any time his emotions became to “human” he would shift back into his normal form. And when he changed, he was completely aware of it. As he stared into the darkness, Hayden had no idea what had happened after Jack came for him.
All he knew was he could feel the sticky hot sensation of blood all over his bare skin. But he didn’t feel any pain. So it was reasonable to assume it was not his blood.
What did I do?
Hayden asked himself that, but really didn’t he already know. Didn’t he realize he’d murdered Jack Kindle.
Closing his eyes, he tried to remember doing it. He tried to remember turning, but it was like he blacked out or something. All Hayden could remember was the way Jacks shirt was stained with her blood.
His Mother…
She was a junkie. She was an alcoholic. She was a tramp. She was everything he never wanted to be. But at least she was…
Now she was gone, like she never existed at all. Maybe it was her fault. Maybe she got what she deserved. But did she? Did anyone really deserve to die?
Yes, Hayden thought, Jack deserved to die. And if I did kill him…
I’m not sorry.
Hayden felt oddly detached from reality as he walked deeper into the woods. It was like the farther he walked; the more everything seemed like a dream.
“It’s not real,” he whispered into the darkness. “This is not happening to me…”
Sometime in the darkest hours before the dawn, Hayden shifted. He turned into the creature he knew. The beast that did not feel as acutely as his human form did. Then he wandered aimlessly, not really caring where he ended up. Anywhere was better then where he was. Being a dog was better was better then who he actually was.
And when he stepped inside, what would he find? His mother’s bloodied body. Maybe alive, maybe dead.
Hayden knew he should run in as fast as he could. He knew should find out if she was okay. But something had him frozen in his tracks. The same something that trails cold fingers down your spine and infuses your veins with ice.
FEAR, pure unadulterated fear.
Closing his eyes, Hayden focused on his breathing.
IN.
OUT.
IN.
OUT.
Then he stepped around the side of the building and found the window that led into his room. It was unlocked, because he regularly used it as an escape route out of the house. So, he pulled it slowly open and climbed onto his bed, which was on the other side.
Hayden’s room was pitch black, except for the slightly greenish glow of his alarm clock. So, he felt nervously around for anything he might bump into. But the small area was relatively bare and there was not much to trip over.
After a few seconds that seemed to stretch on endlessly, Hayden made his way to the door. He carefully opened it and peeked into the hall. It was empty.
Hayden listened for footsteps or sounds of any kind, but the entire building seemed deathly silent.
So, he crept into the hall and stepped quietly toward the bathroom. The door was open and harsh yellow light was spilling out. He braced himself as he rounded the doorframe and looked into the room, but he wasn’t prepared for what he saw. He could never be prepared for the sight of his mother lying prone in her own blood, her skin as white as his and her eyes wide and unseeing.
Someone was screaming. Was it him? Was he screaming?
Then somewhere else in the house there was a loud crash. Seconds later a wild eyed Jack rushed into the hall, his shirt stained crimson in places, his knuckles broken open.
When he saw Hayden, Jack’s upper lip pulled up in a feral way and he lunged forward. But he didn’t know. He didn’t realize there was something feral inside Hayden. Something waiting to break free…
Fuck!
Hayden rapidly blinked his eyes as he tried to make sense of his surroundings. It was too dark to see clearly, but it looked like he was back in the forest. But then what had happened? Had he changed? Had he shifted into his other self?
NO.
That was impossible, because that would only happen when he was in complete control of himself. Any time his emotions became to “human” he would shift back into his normal form. And when he changed, he was completely aware of it. As he stared into the darkness, Hayden had no idea what had happened after Jack came for him.
All he knew was he could feel the sticky hot sensation of blood all over his bare skin. But he didn’t feel any pain. So it was reasonable to assume it was not his blood.
What did I do?
Hayden asked himself that, but really didn’t he already know. Didn’t he realize he’d murdered Jack Kindle.
Closing his eyes, he tried to remember doing it. He tried to remember turning, but it was like he blacked out or something. All Hayden could remember was the way Jacks shirt was stained with her blood.
His Mother…
She was a junkie. She was an alcoholic. She was a tramp. She was everything he never wanted to be. But at least she was…
Now she was gone, like she never existed at all. Maybe it was her fault. Maybe she got what she deserved. But did she? Did anyone really deserve to die?
Yes, Hayden thought, Jack deserved to die. And if I did kill him…
I’m not sorry.
Hayden felt oddly detached from reality as he walked deeper into the woods. It was like the farther he walked; the more everything seemed like a dream.
“It’s not real,” he whispered into the darkness. “This is not happening to me…”
Sometime in the darkest hours before the dawn, Hayden shifted. He turned into the creature he knew. The beast that did not feel as acutely as his human form did. Then he wandered aimlessly, not really caring where he ended up. Anywhere was better then where he was. Being a dog was better was better then who he actually was.