Sequel: Elysian ›
Status: In Progress
Restless Insomniacs
Yale.
I pull my car into the parking lot and struggle to put my other steel toed combat boot on. I am running late and notice with a hand rubbed over my chin that I forgot to shave, I am sporting a little more than a five o’clock shadow and it annoys me. I mutter a swear word, slamming my car door closed as the final warning bell rings out over the entire school.
I am not a punctual person; I am far from it actually. Being late is one of my worst habits, yet no matter how hard I try to be on time I am perpetually late, perpetually falling behind and forever just a minute behind.
I grab a cigarette from the pack in my pocket and busy myself lighting it, holding my left hand over it, the cigarette dangling precariously from my mouth, trying to stop the wind from blowing my flame out.
I don’t particularly like cigarettes, but they are addictive and I am an addictive person, truly addicted to every bad habit this side of the earth. And I really have no reason to fight my addictions, for a moment that makes me pause I almost feel sad but my heart is so pickled now it is an impossibility to truly feel sorrow.
I somewhat enjoy the knowledge that I am slowly killing myself, it is comforting in a sick sort of way. I reach the doors to the school entryway and stub out my cigarette with the toe of my boot, making my way inside the curving corridors.
As I turn the final corner to my locker I notice a tall boy and a small girl leaning close together on the wall, at first I think they are making out or something but then I see the way he is holding her up like she can no longer stand on my own and from years of experience I understand immediately what is going on.
I want to keep walking but I can’t.
It annoys me beyond words. I want to turn away and let them play their dangerous game but I have seen firsthand the effects of abuse and torture so I can’t. I stop in my tracks and watch them for a moment to make sure I am correct.
I am.
The boy is some guy named Alex something or other, he is a douche bag quarter back who used to steal my lunch money when we were in third grade and the girl is, well right now I can’t remember her name I just know she is from the other side of town across the train tracks. The good rich side of town and a girl like her would never give a guy like me the time of day. Until today that is when all of a sudden I am her knight in shining armour, I smirk at the ridiculous thought.
I really don’t want to get involved but I look at whatshername and realise she is scared, her eyes are bugging out of her head and Alex is pulling his hand back ready for the kill shot and all of a sudden I hear my voice and I am yelling at him,
“Hey” Alex and his girlfriend turn to stare at me in shock and bewilderment as if I am the one being completely inappropriate, for that I want to leave whatshername to deal with this herself but I can’t, not when she looks so… fragile.
“What the hell is going on?” I ask planting my feet shoulder width apart my arms cocked and ready to fight, I have been in this position more times than I can count and it feels good, it feels natural.
“Mind your own business Yale,” Alex says as he holds the girl whose name I now remember is Daria up against the wall, it is almost like if Alex weren’t there is would crumble into pieces and that is the scariest thing I have seen for a while.
Daria is staring at me with the oddest look like she is almost mad at me for helping her, I feel like walking away letting her fight her own losing battle but the way Alex is puffing out his chest like a machismo bird rubs me the wrong way that and the fact he thinks he can still push me around after all these years.
I step forward and Alex blanks for a second obviously not used to someone his own size, okay a little smaller, standing up to him, obviously he is used to beating on small fragile girls and that pisses me off.
I pull my arm back and punch Alex square in the gut, he doubles over in surprise and pain he wobbles and pulls the fabric of Daria’s cardigan with him letting it snap and her fall in the process
I glance at her momentarily ready for retaliation, noticing her quickly try and cover the weird markings on her arms that I instantly recognise as bruises. Something in my snaps and I pull my hand back again and punch Alex square in the mouth, pain radiates through my right hand but I barely notice all I can focus on is Daria and her hauntingly sad face. Alex stumbles back into a locker holding his mouth, a trickle of blood falls from his lip and he spits on the ground, a concoction of saliva and blood.
“You’ll regret this” Alex says sounding like a bad eighties movie villain, he holds his mouth and blood continues to trickle from it, looking at Daria who is not paying attention to anything. She is staring at her arm inspecting each and every bruise she has as if they are some sort of piece of art and maybe to her they are, that thought scares me, before making his way down the hallway and to the boy’s bathroom.
“Are you okay?” I ask her, she doesn’t reply and I think about leaving her but then I remember my sister and I can’t. I hate that I can’t, seeing her sad face as she inspects her wounds is so familiar it hurts, I cannot leave her, not like this.
“Thank you” she says so quietly I almost don’t hear her, she has still not looked at me she is still staring at her arm and I wish she would just answer my question of is she alright so I can leave,
“Are you okay… Daria?” Her names feels foreign on my tongue but it gets her attention, her head snaps up and her eyes search mine for a moment looking up at me from behind a wall of dark hair and green eyes that are absolutely mesmerising. I can’t help but feel myself start to get lost in her stare, I shake my head and fight the feeling waiting for her to tell me she is fine so I can go away and forget about her.
“No” She says her eyes never leaving mine, I rub a hand over the stubble on my jaw before turning back to her, for some absurd reason I can’t help but feel responsible for her now that I have saved her, it is ridiculous but it doesn’t make it any less real.
Fuck.
I extend my hand, words falling from my mouth in an awkward jumble “Come on,”
“What?” Daria asks with a look of surprise on her pretty face she stares at my hand with a look of scepticism.
“Come on, I’m getting you out of here” I tell her wondering just where the hell I am taking her.
The bruises on her arms are in different stages of healing and there is a nasty red welt from where Alex was holding her up against the wall and I know I have to find somewhere because I cannot leave her here to break any further. Daria places her small cold hand in mine and stands, she tries to hide the bruises on her arm but there is no use I have seen them.
Fuck.
I am not a punctual person; I am far from it actually. Being late is one of my worst habits, yet no matter how hard I try to be on time I am perpetually late, perpetually falling behind and forever just a minute behind.
I grab a cigarette from the pack in my pocket and busy myself lighting it, holding my left hand over it, the cigarette dangling precariously from my mouth, trying to stop the wind from blowing my flame out.
I don’t particularly like cigarettes, but they are addictive and I am an addictive person, truly addicted to every bad habit this side of the earth. And I really have no reason to fight my addictions, for a moment that makes me pause I almost feel sad but my heart is so pickled now it is an impossibility to truly feel sorrow.
I somewhat enjoy the knowledge that I am slowly killing myself, it is comforting in a sick sort of way. I reach the doors to the school entryway and stub out my cigarette with the toe of my boot, making my way inside the curving corridors.
As I turn the final corner to my locker I notice a tall boy and a small girl leaning close together on the wall, at first I think they are making out or something but then I see the way he is holding her up like she can no longer stand on my own and from years of experience I understand immediately what is going on.
I want to keep walking but I can’t.
It annoys me beyond words. I want to turn away and let them play their dangerous game but I have seen firsthand the effects of abuse and torture so I can’t. I stop in my tracks and watch them for a moment to make sure I am correct.
I am.
The boy is some guy named Alex something or other, he is a douche bag quarter back who used to steal my lunch money when we were in third grade and the girl is, well right now I can’t remember her name I just know she is from the other side of town across the train tracks. The good rich side of town and a girl like her would never give a guy like me the time of day. Until today that is when all of a sudden I am her knight in shining armour, I smirk at the ridiculous thought.
I really don’t want to get involved but I look at whatshername and realise she is scared, her eyes are bugging out of her head and Alex is pulling his hand back ready for the kill shot and all of a sudden I hear my voice and I am yelling at him,
“Hey” Alex and his girlfriend turn to stare at me in shock and bewilderment as if I am the one being completely inappropriate, for that I want to leave whatshername to deal with this herself but I can’t, not when she looks so… fragile.
“What the hell is going on?” I ask planting my feet shoulder width apart my arms cocked and ready to fight, I have been in this position more times than I can count and it feels good, it feels natural.
“Mind your own business Yale,” Alex says as he holds the girl whose name I now remember is Daria up against the wall, it is almost like if Alex weren’t there is would crumble into pieces and that is the scariest thing I have seen for a while.
Daria is staring at me with the oddest look like she is almost mad at me for helping her, I feel like walking away letting her fight her own losing battle but the way Alex is puffing out his chest like a machismo bird rubs me the wrong way that and the fact he thinks he can still push me around after all these years.
I step forward and Alex blanks for a second obviously not used to someone his own size, okay a little smaller, standing up to him, obviously he is used to beating on small fragile girls and that pisses me off.
I pull my arm back and punch Alex square in the gut, he doubles over in surprise and pain he wobbles and pulls the fabric of Daria’s cardigan with him letting it snap and her fall in the process
I glance at her momentarily ready for retaliation, noticing her quickly try and cover the weird markings on her arms that I instantly recognise as bruises. Something in my snaps and I pull my hand back again and punch Alex square in the mouth, pain radiates through my right hand but I barely notice all I can focus on is Daria and her hauntingly sad face. Alex stumbles back into a locker holding his mouth, a trickle of blood falls from his lip and he spits on the ground, a concoction of saliva and blood.
“You’ll regret this” Alex says sounding like a bad eighties movie villain, he holds his mouth and blood continues to trickle from it, looking at Daria who is not paying attention to anything. She is staring at her arm inspecting each and every bruise she has as if they are some sort of piece of art and maybe to her they are, that thought scares me, before making his way down the hallway and to the boy’s bathroom.
“Are you okay?” I ask her, she doesn’t reply and I think about leaving her but then I remember my sister and I can’t. I hate that I can’t, seeing her sad face as she inspects her wounds is so familiar it hurts, I cannot leave her, not like this.
“Thank you” she says so quietly I almost don’t hear her, she has still not looked at me she is still staring at her arm and I wish she would just answer my question of is she alright so I can leave,
“Are you okay… Daria?” Her names feels foreign on my tongue but it gets her attention, her head snaps up and her eyes search mine for a moment looking up at me from behind a wall of dark hair and green eyes that are absolutely mesmerising. I can’t help but feel myself start to get lost in her stare, I shake my head and fight the feeling waiting for her to tell me she is fine so I can go away and forget about her.
“No” She says her eyes never leaving mine, I rub a hand over the stubble on my jaw before turning back to her, for some absurd reason I can’t help but feel responsible for her now that I have saved her, it is ridiculous but it doesn’t make it any less real.
Fuck.
I extend my hand, words falling from my mouth in an awkward jumble “Come on,”
“What?” Daria asks with a look of surprise on her pretty face she stares at my hand with a look of scepticism.
“Come on, I’m getting you out of here” I tell her wondering just where the hell I am taking her.
The bruises on her arms are in different stages of healing and there is a nasty red welt from where Alex was holding her up against the wall and I know I have to find somewhere because I cannot leave her here to break any further. Daria places her small cold hand in mine and stands, she tries to hide the bruises on her arm but there is no use I have seen them.
Fuck.