Behind These Refuge Walls

Maximilian Cooperman was my chubby friend's full name. He went by Max, because it seemed rather fitting for a rebellious wannabe rich boy.

Of all the people I befriended in my school, Max was the only one who deemed himself 'cool' enough to ditch classes. Internally, I was slightly flattered by his choice to invite me to spend my day over at his house. Then he quickly explained to me that him ditching classes was a matter of keeping his popular kid reputation intact. I nodded understandingly.

I had once been a very patient person. That fact alone had not changed much and as much as I would have loved to fool myself, I was no different than your average person. The meaning of panic wasn't foreign to me. In fact, I more often crossed paths with that particular feeling rather than with rage.

I don't know how other people would have reacted to the knowledge of having been drugged. I don't know how most people would react to not having memories of an important event of their lives. All I know is that the incapacity of remembering is close to killing me.

Fear and anger tugged at my dark soul - for, without a doubt, it was dark - and combined into panic.

"Max." I fixed the boy with my usual mischievous stare - an action that had him squirming in an instant. "What are they saying?"

He took a deep breath, hesitated, then decided to explain by starting from the beginning of mankind. He went to school for the first two classes with the car that had been his wish since he had been a ten year old, because until then he had wanted a Harley Davidson, but that wasn't possible because his dad had always had a fear of motorcycles. And why is that? Because when his father was young...

"Max."

"It'll make you mad."

I was positively sure madness was the last of my worries. "Trust me. I cannot be angrier than I already am."

He sensed the edge that my tone suddenly held, so he gave in. "Damien's bragging." He paused. "Don't you remember...anything, at all?"

And just like that, he had me jumping out of my seat from the couch and pacing around the living room. No, I didn't remember. Why the hell did he think I was so furious?

"No, Max, I only have some stupid flashbacks that don't even make sense." I fidgeted with the nearest knife, earning a worried look from Max. "What does everyone say I did?"

He stood up from his pricy laptop and walked with me to his enormous kitchen. I had to say, I was stunned by the size of his house. I even told this to him when we first entered the main hallway, which was big enough to fit a dozen people and expensive looking enough to make me look around like a dumbstruck fly. He then cleared up that this was 'just the guest house'. Completely understandable.

"You danced...a lot." He paused, taking his time with opening a beer. "You were very close to the Damien and Ryan. And you might have danced on a table."

That was it?

"...and there are some people saying that you hooked up with Sean Pierce, Damien's buddy who has some perverted crush on you."

I tried my best - and failed miserably - to look as collected as possible. I came to the conclusion that I had no more dignity left. I vaguely remembered Sean, a guy with just as much self esteem as Damien - which was quite a lot - that could barely be contained by the tight t-shirts he almost always wore. He was not unattractive, but by God, he wasn't too easy on the eyes, either. With a rather hunched figure and skinny arms, Sean Pierce would most definitely strike anyone as a self pleasing ignorant, incapable of having a decent conversation with anyone (well, that was a valid characteristic of most males I knew). As if his reedy lips and pointed nose aren't bad enough, he also likes to wear a lot of hair gel.

"However," Max interrupted my wandering thoughts, "I spoke to a trustful source." My ears picked up the optimistic sound of his voice with delight. "Listen to me and listen to me carefully, grasshopper." I decided to let it slip, although I shot him a 'watch it!' look. "A bunch of sophomores spotted you taking shots with Paige, Danielle, Damien and Ryan. Next thing they know is you're dancing with Sean and Damien. Apparently Ryan boy had some hard time getting rid of Paige, but that's another story. Did you know that she likes him? Janice said she did, but--"

"Max!" I hissed, my ears perked with interest.

"Right! So, thing is, this guy shows up and drags you away." My heart did a sudden skip of a beat and I prayed to God that Max didn't notice the sudden pallor of my skin. "So this guy is like...a big enemy of Ryan's. So when they meet, Ryan's all pissed off and the dude totally flipped him off. But I can't get to find out who the guy is. Everyone seems to know him, but nobody does. Get what I'm saying?"

He ends his charade with an exaggerated gesticulation of his right hand.

"Did this source tell you how the stranger looked like?" I could feel myself grow impatient by the minute, but I willed myself to stay alert through this all.

Max sighed melancholic. "I quote Megan: 'tall, dark and handsome'."

"How accurate." My fist came slamming down on the kitchen table at full speed, startling Max. A sudden bark erupted from the other room and in came a large Rottweiler, barking viciously at me. "Fucking hell, Max! You have a dog!"

"Oh, Hitler? He's harmless."

I stared at him dumbfounded, unsure whether it was solely because of the dog's name or of the animal's description in combination with it. 'Hitler' was silenced soon when Max offered him a piece of whatever food he had on the counter. Mentally taking a note of all possible exits (closed window included - fuck it, if Hitler was about to neutralize me, I could just break the damn glass!), I stepped closer to Max's pet.

"Hitler, boy, this is Charlie." As if understanding his owner's words, Hitler's ears perked up and I found myself being scrutinized by a large black dog. Without warning, he let out a short bark and licked my hand. "Look, he already likes you!" Max exclaimed, entirely thrilled.

I patted the dog's head, who seemed to look at me with sympathizing eyes. Maybe he was angry, too.

"CJ, I don't think Ryan knows." My head snapped in Max's direction. I locked eyes with him long enough to have him squirm in his seat.

"Come again?"

"He doesn't look like he does. He seems to think that you just got wasted. Damien talks about it all the time, him and the girls, but whenever he's around Ryan, he just lays low. Well, as low as Damien can get."

"Which is pretty damn low, believe me." My eyes scanned the various rays of sunlight penetrating the window. I could hear the wheels in my head turning and the anger boiling. "The girls?"

"Paige and Danielle. I think...Well, it's plausible enough and there are plenty of people who say so, too...."

"Max, just say it!" Hitler barked in unison with my request.

"Paige and Danielle have been after you for a while now, but it was Damien who...who came up with the idea of putting something in your drink."

Time stopped.

There was a sudden dull, threatening silence. It didn't matter to me that I had been picked up by a random stranger; it didn't matter that I had been angry at Ryan up until a few minutes ago. Beside me, Hitler growled, probably sensing my stress. I felt like screaming my lungs out, now that I had finally recovered some of my strength and most definitely felt the urge to hit something (or better yet, someone). No way in hell was I going to let Damien walk away with this. Yet, the question was whether I wasn't overreacting. Did I truly want to go after Damien for doing this to me?

"It's not the first time," Max whispered.

My breath caught up in my throat; Hitler suddenly jumped, growling viciously; I stood up, eyeing Max fiercely. The sudden commotion made the Cooperman spawn freeze.

"What did you just say?"

"I...it's...you don't wanna know."

"Oh, believe me, I do," I growled menacingly.

"There's....well, you're not...the first one to get this sort of treatment from him. The thing is, Damien likes to...offer girls 'special drinks' and then he...does things."

By the time he finished his sentence, I was fuming. I had, to some extent, inferred Damien's choice of actions. My gaze fell on Hitler, the dog just as angry as myself and pacing around the room growling.

"Janice was close to something like this."

The sentence hit the air around us fast. As much as I hated Janice's hyperness and bubbliness and all other '-ness' characteristics, the thought of Damien taking advantage of her made me boil. True, I was no justice legionary, but I was not one to stand down. Now, that I knew who was to be blamed, I was going to throw the blame. And throw it hard. For I was not one to forgive and forget. The wheels in my head turned and I made another of my haste decisions that I was renowned for.

"Classes are over by now. Where can I find him?"

"Damien's with the gang in the park. One of their usual bonfires." Max paused as I suddenly stood up, Hitler bouncing eagerly around me. "Why?"

"Let's go see them. And I'll need Hitler."

"What? Why? Woah, hold it! Charlie, the guy's a dick and deserves to be skinned alive, but if you get involved in this, it's going to turn hella ugly. He's done it before. And trust me, if they see you take one step towards them, they won't let you walk away."

"The way I see it, Max, is that I pretty much have no choice! If I sit back and do nothing, your boy Damien is going to have his way until the day he dies. And quite frankly, I don't think the bitch should even be allowed to breathe. If I do get involved, at least I'll be satisfied knowing that I'll be the one fucking with him."

"I knew you'd get mad!" he wailed.

"No, Max," I seethed, "I don't get mad. I get even."

I did explain to him, in few words, what my plan was. Max was amused at first, then as realization of my deadly seriousness dawned on him, his face contorted to shock. Then he said nothing. Somewhere inside, Max was perked in the slightest by having a seemingly psychotic friend.

I continued to ignore Max's continuous rant and only paid attention to my increasing anger and along with it, adrenaline. Hitler sensed my fury and was keen on following me, despite his owner's tight grip of the leash. People watched us strangely - two high school kids hurrying through the park with an impatient Rottweiler on their heels.

Ryan, although on the football team, was nowhere to be seen, but as expected, Damien along with a numerous group of suck-ups celebrated their latest football victory. I recognized Paige and Danielle flirting shamelessly with eager and overly horny football players. This victory of yours won't be sweet.

"Welcome to the party, Charlie!" someone shouted.

A row of laughs of applause rang, but I ignored everything and pushed a lanky boy out of my way, my eyes fixed on Damien. It registered with me a while later that the boy had been Sean. I made a note to myself to have a chat with him, too.

"Carter!"

Silence. All heads turned towards Max and I, Hitler barking fiercely in the direction of my enemy. Damien's eyes fell on the animal, a pang of fear crossing them. I saw, then, the same feeling I had woken up to the morning after the party: vulnerability. I let all anger wash me and stopped judging that second.

I grabbed the leash from Max, who stepped back. Hitler began squirming violently. I realized - quite a bit stupefied - that the dog was stronger than I had initially predicted.

"Damien, dude, I have to thank you!" I yelled, my act similar to a drunk woman's. Confused faces watched me, yet there were still some who found it amusing.

"What are you talking about?" Damien kept glancing back and forth from me to Hitler, who was jumping and barking. I struggled obviously to hold the dog back.

"I have to give it to you, you're good. You know, that shit you gave me at the party was fucked up, I tell you. I was knocked out completely!"

Damien attempted to smirk arrogantly. "Yeah, well..." He stood up. "You're a pretty damn good entertainer. You just needed a little...push."

The wink he gave me earned several whistles and cat calls from his team mates. Bad move, I thought, as the leash slipped out of my hand slightly. Hitler growled in excitement. A group of younger girls began to step back, whispering furiously amongst themselves.

"Take care of that stupid mutt!" Damien shouted.

"If you apologize..." I winked; he scowled.

"In your dreams, princess. Be careful with that fucking leash, bitch!"

And that was it. "What leash?"

Hitler jumped in a matter of seconds at the football player. Screams and curses came flowing freely around us. My lips were pressed together as I watched Damien lay on the ground under the dog, screaming bloody murder. He then began to curse, call me names and made sure he kept Hitler at bay, who had already given him several scratch marks on his forearms. Unbeknownst to him, Hitler had no intention on killing him. Perhaps if I had truly told him to, he would have lashed out and cracked Damien's skull. But he didn't.

"There's three words I wanna hear from you, D!" Although I wanted to hear I am sorry, I expected neither of the words to come out of his mouth.

"Fuck you!"

"Wrong. Hitler, eat him!"

The dog's howl made the screaming increase.

"No! Shit, no! God, I swear I'm sorry! I am fucking sorry!"

With a short whistle, the dog was back at my feet, leash in my hand. I approached Damien's shaking form, the dog's presence only scaring him more.

"You fucking son of a bitch," I whispered, leaning close to him, "if you ever fucking mess with me again, I will kill you. You got that?!"

A nod was all he could muster before I turned around and handed Max the leash, ignoring all the other students.

"You crazy bitch," they seethed.

"Stay away from us!"

Max's face showed a mixture of fear and sheer excitement, which was quite usual of my curly haired friend. I only noticed him fiddling with his phone when we reached the car. And I knew.

"You better not have filmed that, Cooperman."

He raised his hands in defense. "I swear you're not in it! Come on, CJ, this was too good not to be filmed! That guy was chicken shit!" A coward when it came to jumping to action, but a fierce warrior when it came to after-parties, Max did a little victory dance. "This is so going to make it online!" He started laughing, a sound that relaxed me in the slightest.

And online the clip made it. I shut my laptop closed and sighed. There was something about seeing Nathan get ready for school that made me relax and still stand on my own two feet. That, and maybe the fact that I had finally let out all the anger that had been bottled up inside me.

I will not fall. I will keep everyone at bay.

"No way!"

"This is unfucking believable!"

"She's completely out of her mind."

"Dude, you should have seen it. It was pure madness."

It was on rare occasions that I saw so many people with phones in both of their hands and watching the same video so intently that their eyeballs might have jumped out of their socks. Then, when I reached their ray of sight, all gazes would land on me.

The popular sites were buzzing with a certain less than five minute video that had Damien skipping from school. My face was nowhere in any of the scenes, but the few people that had witnessed Hitler being allowed to jump at Damien had already told half of the school that I was the responsible one.

No one came near me. They parted. They avoided eye contact. And there was a group of a select few who grinned in sheer excitement at me. Regardless, I put up all the necessary walls as I stood by Janice and walked her to her class. I paid little attention to the people looking at me, for if I did, my insides would go haywire. Instead, there was a little decision I had to take my time with. And that decision regarded a certain blond haired male who waited for me patiently in Health class. I balked at first.

My attention was anywhere but on him. I didn't know what to say without making it sound awkward and I didn't know what to do to make it look like it to him. I was more aware of him than I should have been, I figured. There was something about the tall boy that had me wondering. Wander my thoughts did.

As the bell rang, he finally shot me an expectant stare. "Is a fight worthy of your personal attention or are you going to bring in the cops on us?"

I frowned and returned the stare. "I don't know what your problem is, but fighting is something I'll always be interested in."

"I noticed," he muttered before striding off, people moving aside to let him pass.

Janice was suspiciously silent that day and judging by my stress, I was not going to let any detail around me pass by without a thorough inspection. I even interrogated Jake about the bizarre pattern of his shirt. No, the poor button up shirt had no fault, but I felt like a caged wolf around my companions all day. Odd how I adjusted to comparing them to pets.

"Hey, Charlie?" With a jaded 'hmm' I turned to Janice as Paige and Danielle - now buddies attached to hip - passed by, not forgetting to shoot me sharp glances and possibly wondering whether I was as insane as everyone claimed. "Do you mind if we walk for a while? I'd like to...talk to you about something."

And all the while as I strolled by her side, instead of giving her problems a thought, all I could fathom was What does she want? Do we have to talk? Do I have to sound...compassionate? Oh, God, no!. My second worst fear, aside from death and coming in before losing senses: being an understanding, smiling, chipper, cup-holding, advice-filled buddy.

She stopped at the edge of the Orlando docks. I followed her as she sat on an isolated bench. Few people passed and the ones that did were too caught up in their own thoughts to notice us, two sad-looking seniors - one with a face worthy of a PETA commercial (Stop abusing the poor puppies! Look what you'll do to these poor hippies.), the other looking not so friendly and leaning on her elbows that rested painfully on her knees with the aura of a humanity-hating anarchist (Beware of angry friend.).

"I can't believe what you did to Damien. God! Releasing a Rottweiler at him?" She laughed lightly, then sighed. "You really got the whole school hating you."

"Not really. I heard some nerd gang from your Biology class are silently praising me." I grinned, not extremely proud of my achievement of making ten game-obsessed, life-lacking idiots give me winks.

"I guess Max told you..." And there it was, the reason as to why she had wanted to speak to me. "I just...well, you know, it means a lot. The fact that you stood up where no one else dared to...it's good. And at the same time stupid, but I guess you can afford it. You being you."

My face fell back in the ice age. The words that had rolled off her tongue stung. Her assumption that I was heartless and uncaring was an attack at my heart (or was it my pride?). I could not really hold it against her, though, for she was entirely clueless. I guess, to her, those words were the simple truth and that with me, everything was just plain blunt and careless. I couldn't blame her, because she didn't know me.

Only that hurt me more than words.

"There are some things I want to tell you," she said after a long, pressing pause, "but I don't know how or where to begin."

"Okay..." I contorted my face somehow to make my understanding figure seem more...understanding. "How about you start from the beginning?"

She gave me a strange look. The waves crashed before us, yet words weren't spoken. We just stood there and I slowly grew worried. And then...

"Masseyisaschoolformythicalcreatures."

A moment passed. Two. Three. Then the three moments dissolved into brain wrenching minutes.

"Huh?"

She inhaled sharply, then with a shaky voice continued, "I told you Massey students aren't normal. Because they're not human. They're immortals. Vampires, demons, werewolves, witches. I swear, Charlie, it's all true, but no one knows because there's so much going on and if the humans found out about them, they'd be in danger."

I had and will always have few words to describe the silence that followed. Because while neither of us spoke, there was still so much noise that it felt like it was crushing me. So there was silence, but there wasn't. I was panicked, but I wasn't. I didn't know what to think of her words and she had no idea what to think of my lack of.

I decided to intelligently start the conversation. "So..." I stared; she smiled warmly.

"I'm a witch. Well, sorta. I mean, I have some witch abilities, but I'm not even close to my mother's potential." I didn't know whether to nod, congratulate her for her achievements (or lack thereof) or simply continue to stare. What did one do when they found out that they're friends are...not so normal?

"James," she continued, "is a shape shifter. He can turn into a huge eagle. You should see him, it's absolutely amazing! There are many shape shifters in the school."

I paused as she looked around with a smile. It was possible that she was waiting for me to say something or perhaps run like I never had before.

"What about...Cain?"

She narrowed her eyes wearily and pursed her lips. No doubt she expected such a question.

"Cain doesn't take classes." She saw me quirk my eyebrow. "Well, that sounded stupid. No, actually he graduated. He's twenty. Or...at least looks like it. He's a demon. One of the most powerful ones existing nowadays. That's why Vallin made him his right hand..."

She paused, looking down strangely. Janice, in all her spontaneous glory, couldn't find her words.

"I don't think he'd like me to talk to you about him." Strangely enough, that stung my stone heart. "But I will sneak in some details. See, Cain's powers are something almost any other demon longs for. He's, in a sort of way, a God to them. Although he's not the most powerful, he sure is someone you don't want to deal with.

"At first, he didn't join Vallin, because he didn't want to be part of anything. He was, and actually still is, a rebel." Janice shook her head, frustrated. "He can be quite annoying. Anyway, he's basically the second in command around here. He sometimes teaches some of the classes of self defense and all that jazz, although don't expect to see him in class too much. He lacks patience."

"Cool." I wanted to slap myself for the intellectual remark, but instead dug my nails in my palms.

The entire concept hit me as impossible. My entire being screamed at me to stop listening to Janice and instead try and be sympathetic for her condition. Maybe she was sick. Maybe she had trouble facing reality. Maybe she was just too drawn in her own little world. And then, a tiny part of my heart (that had not died along with my childhood) tugged at my cynical self to see some reason in this and dare to dream. Maybe she was right. Maybe there were other things going on. After a long pause of staring at the ocean and constantly arguing with myself, Janice finally stood up.

"So..." She looked at me expectantly and her eyes revealed a spark of hope. I stood up as well and took a deep breath of air, all the while questioning myself how on earth she expected me to react.

As I opened my mouth, though, the screeching of wheels filled our ears and a beat up Volkswagen pulled in the nearest parking lot. Out emerged a cheerful James, dressed as overly coloured as always.

"Ba da bim!" was his spiritual salute as he jogged to us.

As soon as his eyes landed on Janice's weary look and my uptight stare, his grin dropped.

"So," he tried, "Janice told you?"

Of course, I thought, maybe James knew Janice had mental issues, too. So the concerned look on his face was most likely directed towards her. Either that, or he had issues as well.

"Yeah..." I managed to squeak.

"And?" I paused; he waited, until finally he burst into a moronic laughter. "You don't believe it. Do you think we're insane?"

That would be an understatement. "No."

He quirked his eyebrow and Janice looked away from us disappointed. I couldn't tell if my heart actually broke at the sight of that feeling, or simply because I thought they were incurable.

"Look, Charlie. We can prove."

With that, the red haired boy grabbed my right arm and surprisingly, I actually let him lead me to the car.

"Wow, Jaimie-doll, you arrived in your chariot," I heard Janice remark.

James pouted. "Well, forgive me for not having enough money to buy a friggin Camaro. I told him I was going on a mission to cure the non-believers, but he still didn't want to lend me his car. So...here we are, before my luxurious limo."

Janice fell silent for the rest of the ride to God knows where. I couldn't get rid of the feeling that she was massively disappointed by my supposed ignorance. I said nothing either and not even the usually happy mohawked boy couldn't break the tension that enveloped the car. I tried not to wonder on how exactly they planned on proving their words and instead, tried to focus on the fact that tonight I would be watching an underground fight up close and personal. Yes, the decision hit me in the back of my head. Quite frankly, I wasn't aware I had even made that decision. But whatever my instinct instructed, I did.

The Volkswagen came to a stop somewhere in the rather unnerving suburbs of the city. James parked it in an abandoned alley and soon, I found myself standing beside Janice in the shadows of the forsaken buildings. Without a word, the boy took off his shirt under my horror filled eyes and turned to see if anyone - aside from Janice and I - was watching. My eyes darted from Janice to James, trying to take in their frowns.

"Relax, Charlie. We really want you to understand that we're not lying," the girl soothed, her eyes filled with nothing but genuine concern. "Look at James."

I don't know what happened then. I listened to her order and as soon as I did, a knot was tied up in my throat. I felt like screaming, but couldn't because of the shock. His body contorted in ways I could have never imagined. His bones tried to break out of his skin, his face showed nothing but pain and instead of the tall mohawked boy, a bird began taking shape. Within a few moments, a brown eagle shook its feathers before us.

My heart stopped. The simple, wannabe punk teenager belonged in a book. Realization didn't seem to dawn on me fast enough. These people were immortals!

Janice began clapping enthusiastically, congratulating him for the 'fast phasing' (FAST PHASING?!), but as her eyes landed on me, she fell silent, almost as if she expected me to die on the spot. I don't know what she saw in my eyes. Maybe I had died. I only tried to regain my composure and tried my best to move. None of that happened, though, because I kept staring, frozen in my spot against the wall. The eagle flew straight onto Janice's extended arm and fixed me with its gaze.

"Charlie?"

I gulped. I inhaled. I stuttered. Words wouldn't come out from my open mouth.

"Charlie, I told you James is a shape--"

Janice was soon interrupted by the eagle who shook its head and flew behind the car. She threw his clothes to him. Before my ears could tune out the sickening sound of bones cracking, James stood tall behind the car again. I figured he had put his clothes on all too quick, because he was soon standing before my terrified figure.

"Charlie."

"Give me a minute," I finally breathed and sat on the street's pavement. I placed my head in my hands, blinked viciously several times, then took deep breaths. Eventually, I stood up again, watching the two with my usual cold stare. I felt like Dr. Grant in Jurassic Park, when he sees the dinosaurs for the first time. I'm betting his reaction was just like mine, his inner vocabulary ranging from 'Holy shit!' to 'Fucking macaroni!'.

"You," I breathed, "are a bird." James shook his head slowly, obviously not knowing how to react to my words. As far as he knew, I could had just lost my sanity during the last few minutes. "Isn't that a bit too feminine?"

Janice was the first to burst into laughter, then James followed with a grin. Maybe I had gone mad.

"So you believe us!" he exclaimed.

Still unsure about the redhead approaching me, I nodded vehemently. "You just shifted into a fucking eagle in front of me! Do you...oh my fuck...oh boy, oh boy..."

He laughed. "Trust me, it feels a lot worse than it looks like."

"Great," I mumbled. 'Great' didn't even cover it entirely. What other word could, really? "I...I want to know everything about this."