Won't Turn Out Right

My cheeks stung as the cold, stale air hit my salty tears. I didn't care.

I hobbled to the door as Zacky barreled down the stairs, hitting each step with a terrible force. My heart fluttered and beat as loud as Zacky's steps. Boomboomboomboom. My hand hit the doorknob just as the banging stopped. I twisted the knob cleanly and pushed.

I walked right out the door.

There's a certain smell to summer. Freshly cut green grass, soon-to-be rain storms, flowers and dirt. The Earth and nature. Planes soared overhead, and though it was nighttime, I could still practically hear the sounds of lawn mowers, children screaming and playing. Birds and sprinkler systems.

I stood bare-foot in the grass holding the sheet to my body, letting the world wash over me. The moonlight was like a shock to my system. I felt light-headed and my entire brain pulsed with pain. I started to feel faint. Like I couldn't breathe. So, I started forward to try and run away from these pains. I tripped and fell face-down in the grass. My head slammed down into the dirt and pebbles, and I tried to crawl. My eyes were still closed with tears falling constantly.

The door opened and closed from behind me, and Zacky walked out into the backyard. I could hear him step up behind me.

"I thought I told you not to go anywhere." I sobbed and screamed loudly. He dove onto me, putting a hand over my mouth and another on the back of my neck, gripping me tightly. My head pounded.

Suddenly, there were sirens in the distance. My heart started to flutter again. Were they coming for me? For him? For them? Or were they just passing through? Zacky stopped cold, swearing under his breath.

"Scream and I'll break your neck," he mumbled, dragging me back into the house. I sobbed and struggled against him, trying to pry his hands away from me. He started to sing and hum, straining as he suddenly picked me up and slung me over his shoulder. I let out a sob and a scream when his hands left my mouth, automatically, despite my better judgment. His shoulder had gone straight into my stomach wound, reopening anything that might have started to heal.

He dragged me back down, standing me up on my feet and slapping me. He held his hand back quickly over my mouth. "What. Did I. Just. Say." His green eyes glinted with pure insanity as I cried and cried, shaking my head. He frowned mockingly. My legs gave out and I fell in a heap into his arms. He picked me up, putting one arm under my knees, and one arm behind my neck, wrapping around to my mouth again. "You're going down with me, Cupcake. This is the push. That little push we talked about. You thought it happened already, didn't you? But, no. This is it. This is it. Too bad. Too bad."

He walked slowly through the house. "I killed my brother when I was twelve. I stabbed him to death in my kitchen. Ten whole times. Then, I stabbed Mom, who was asleep on the couch." He brought me into their living room, which was mostly empty except for an old couch and an antique wooden table littered with skin magazines. There was a strange scent in the air that I couldn't quite remember. He put me on the couch, sitting me up. He sat next to me, slipping an arm around my shoulders. "I got her only four times before my dad came home. He found me and was able to get the knife away from me. He called the cops and I was whisked away. He kept asking me why. Why, why, why? They always want to know why. I never tell them, though. They wouldn't get it. They will never get it." He pointed to me. "But, you, Cupcake. I think you get it." He clicked his tongue. "Toooo bad. Too-hoo-hoo bad." The sirens were getting louder, and my heart swelled with false hope once again.

He took out a cigarette, sticking it in his mouth, and lighting it with one hand. He suddenly took his open lighter and tossed it onto the table. The flame caught onto the magazines and spread quickly. I started to scream again. He laughed, pulling me tightly to him.

"It's all soaked in kerosene, Cupcake. You deserve so much better, really. This is no way for such a beautiful girl to go out. Me and the guys, maybe. But, you, doll deserve something a little more romantic. It's too bad. Too bad." I screamed louder, struggling against his hold on me as the fire spread down the legs of the table and down to the carpet. I picked my legs up and moved toward Zacky, away from the spreading fire.

"Please, don't do this!" My voice cracked as I screamed. I held onto his jacket, staring him in the eyes which had caught the light of the fire. They were sad.

"I think I'm sorry. It's the most sorry I've felt in a long time. Maybe it's just the death staring me in the face. Maybe that's all this is. A little nervous, scared... guilty? No... No, no, no. I don't feel guilty. Sorry? Not guilty. No, not guilty."

"Zacky. Zacky... Baker. Zacky Baker, please. Don't do this to me, to you, to us. It doesn't have to end like this." He frowned.

"Doesn't have to end like this. No, too late. Not for you. For me. For me, it's too late. It is. Very long overdue. No guilt, though. Really, no guilt." I clutched my stomach, squeezing my eyes shut. The heat of the fire spread to all corners of the room, but our couch was an island in an ocean of fire. I was so scared. My whole body shook with fear, I was convulsing and sobbing. I latched onto him.

"Zacky, please!" I gripped his jacket tightly, forcing my face into his chest. I tried to shake my fists, trying to maybe knock some sort of sense into him. The smell of his cigarette was overwhelming with the scent of kerosene and burning wood and pealing paint. Glass suddenly shattered loudly and I screamed in surprise. More glass shattered, but throughout the whole house. There was a delayed ringing pattern on the whole first and second floor.

I felt Zacky grip the back of my head, taking a fistful of my hair.

"Too late for me. Too late for you? No... not... too late. Not too late for you. Too late for me. Ch... Charity. Charity. I am sorry." He suddenly took me by the shoulders and threw me over the side of the couch, towards the hallway. I screamed again, falling hard to the floor. It was clear of fire, though, and I sat up quickly, shocked and scared. I looked back just in time to see Zacky stand up in the flames. The flame started to travel up his jeans and he clenched a fist.

Suddenly I was grabbed from behind and people were shouting. There was so much noise and so much heat and I screamed. And I sobbed. And I closed my eyes to escape. I screamed one last time before the darkness took me back. It took me down to someplace cold and someplace quiet.

And I felt better.