"Sarge, look at these fingermarks though. Still red. Maybe we're looking for a classmate?"
"Jesus Christ Larry - someone get me in contact with the Principal, now!"
- February, 2007, Saint Mary's Christian School, Brunswick, Georgia
The car trailed listlessly across the well put together roads. Swathes of trees blocked much of the sunlight from reaching the vehicle’s coloured exterior, and instead ate up the UV radiation in a way that only old trees could. Lifting my hand, I placed it delicately against the window before taking a deep breath in. Freedom - how beautiful and novel a prospect. The trees shook with the wind, as though responding to me in earnest - though I knew this to be false, it was still a comforting thought nonetheless. Placing my finger on a button next to the car door-handle, I watched as the glass shifted downwards, disappearing into the bulky door until my face was exposed to the cool breeze, my too-long hair fluttering delicately within the wind.
“Are you even listening?” Mother spoke from next to me, turning her head from the road briefly to watch the back of my head - unable to see the bliss I felt from the breeze as it caressed my features. “Hey!” The older woman yelled, dragging me from my uninterested state. Once she could tell that I was listening to her, she coughed and began to speak again, her voice retaining that nasally, ‘high and mighty’ tone that I had hated as a child. God I detested this woman. “Now, your father and I have set you up in a small two bedroom house out near us.” She started. “You’ll have to thank your father and his company for rebuilding the house, as it was rather dilapidated before they got to it.” As she spoke I turned my head and looked out into the woodlands once more, sighing as her voice became even more distant. Freedom - how beautiful and novel a prospect.
”Hello.” I heard a voice shout - no, whisper...somewhere between the two at least - in my ear, jolting me once more.
“Hey! I’m talking to you young lady!” Mother yelled again. “As I was saying, Ben will be waiting for you inside. We’ve kitted the kitchen out and bought you some food. For the first few months your Father will be getting you a bi-weekly shop and Dr Schulzberg will be coming in at least once a week to make sure you are doing okay.” The older lady sighed, almost as though she had jumped some great hurdle by saying that. “As I’m sure you understand - after all, it is the first time you’ve been out of the hospital since 2008.” The woman had a slight smile on her face. I was sure she thought she had won; she must have been beaming when the Dr told her I could leave. It wasn’t too hard to understand, coming from an old, haggard bitch like her. How disgusting. “We’ll come and pick you up for Church every sunday - luckily we managed to get a place really close, though these Northern Pastors aren’t quite like ol’ Pastor Graeham from Georgia.” Mother laughed, seeming cheerful for almost a second as her mind seemed to catch up with her words. As it did however, the smile on her face died. ‘You haven’t seen Georgia in 9 years, have you Mother…’
“I’m sorry Mother.” I spoke, words soft and intended. She deserved an apology at least, for all the years of difficulty I had caused her. ‘That’s what Strings would say at least…’
“Don’t apologise - I’ve been apologising to the Lord for all of these years.” Mother inhaled hard, drawing in a mass of air before breathing it out once again. She twisted at the steering wheel of the car and brought it around onto a smaller road on the right. The road here was bumpy and less well kept, and the trees that flanked either side of the larger road they had just been on had been replaced by poorly cut bushes and a few gnarled, moisture starved trees that had managed to cling to a semblance of existence somehow. “If he can’t do anything to fix this, then your apology is pointless.” As she finished her sentence, Mother slowed the car to a stop before pulling on the handbrake and turning the car keys, pulling them from the ignition. “Here we are, out you get - I’ll need your help carrying your bags.”
Reaching over to the door-handle, I pulled upon it to release a dull ‘pop’ sound, the door coming away from the rest of the car to let me out. Placing my feet upon the floor, I sighed as my cheap shoes placed themselves upon the rough stone with a daintiness to them. Forcing my hands into the hoodie Mother had bought for me to wear - “It’s cold up North!” She had said, seemingly forgetting I had been in the Hospital nearby for the last 9 years, whilst she’d been in New Mexico with Father and Ben. - I walked around the corner of the car to see Mother opening the boot.
“Come on, get in there and start getting your things out - there’s not much, so it shouldn’t take us too long.” She spoke, reaching into the vehicle to grab at a suitcase that held some of my clothes. I didn’t have many things, so it would only take the two of us a single trip to clear the boot of the car out. I think she was just in a hurry to get away really - it made sense to be honest. She wasn’t a bad woman, and it was hard to dislike her when she was setting me up so nicely. I think she would like Strings. At Mother’s astute command, I reached into the boot and grabbed the last of my bags - a plastic bag filled with medicines and doctors equipment, and a suitcase filled with the last of my clothes. Placing the suitcase upon the floor - preparing to roll it into the house on its four wheels - I reached my hand into the plastic bag to pull out a small pillbox, filled with a multitude of white and red pills. Cracking open the plastic lid, I took two of them out and lifted them to my mouth, swallowing them down as I had been told to for the last 9 years.
Turning towards Mother, who had walked through the only trimmed bushes on the entirety of the road, I got a glimpse of the flashy new house that bore itself ahead of me. My house, thanks to Mother and Father.
”Home sweet home.”
Harry Doriatta
Harry took a deep breath, resting the palms of his hands against the back of his head with relief. “Ahhh.” He mused. “Sweet freedom - seems like my fast feet kept the Prefects off my ass.” Grinning, the boy shifted his arms and made ‘thumbs up’ signs ahead of him, pushing them in and out with joy (a habit he had picked up from his father when he was a child). The dorky, music-style boy replaced his hands upon his head and began to whistle to himself, slowly sidling through the crowds of new students, his long hair flowing with the delicate breeze. A commotion was occurring towards the front of the crowd, but if anything, such drama was something that the Water student definitely didn’t need at the moment.
“H-Hey!” A young female voice sounded through the crowd, aimed towards Harry. Sighing with contentment still, the 25 year old American turned ever so slowly, gradually locking eyes upon the voice.
It was the Dark student from earlier, who had seen him completely nude.
“Ahhhhhhhh! Harry screamed with terror, pushing further through the crowd before she could say anything else. The girl didn’t give chase, her face simply taking on a sad tone before she turned and walked in the opposite direction. Harry didn’t move long to shake her off, and once he was sure that she had lost him he stopped, taking a deep breath before beginning to saunter towards the Lake once more - replacing his initial shock and terror with the cool, calm and collected persona he wanted to display to the outside world.
“Bastard!” Harry heard someone yelling in the distance. The music-style Water Student turned to look in the direction of the yelling.
“Someone’s sure gutsy to be yelling such words in front of all these First Years…” Harry mused, completely forgetting his own poor language moments ago. Finally locating the source of the shouting, the boy’s skin instantly drained itself of colour, filled only with the briefly lost fear of reprimand. Outside the very same gates he himself had walked through was a multitude of prefects, all either asking First Years if they had seen Harry, or scanning the crowd for him anyway. “Shit.”
Turning away from the way he had came, Harry began to quickly push through the gaps between the other Students, causing many of them to mutter with complaint at the slightly rough behaviour the Water Student was causing. “‘Scuse me; coming through; pardon.” The American muttered rapidly, seemingly having some sort of apology for each person he bumped too hard for their liking.
“Oi, bastard!” Harry heard a Prefect yell from behind him, notifying him that he had finally been found.
‘The Lake is the key - quick!’ Harry pressed even faster, listening as First Years around 10 meters behind began to complain as Prefects forced them out of the way, determined to reprimand the mischievous Water Student as aptly as they could. However, before they could reach him, the crowd broke open and Harry was graced with the view of Rufio shouting at the Lake. In too much of a hurry to listen to his words, the Water Student grabbed at his guitar and began to lightly strum upon it - nothing too complicated, just a simple rhythm he had taught himself a long while ago.
“Hey, Rufio, nice to see you’re way ahead of me!” Harry feigned laughter, looking over his shoulder as he speed-walked towards the Lake. “Listen, gotta ask you to do me a solid - you didn’t see me, okay?” The Music-Style Student then leapt back first into the Lake, the rhythm he was playing making sure the water made no noise or movement as he submerged within, the water effectively swallowing him and the air around him to form an air pocket.
‘Now to just wait the onslaught out.’ Harry thought to himself. ‘Another great escape!’
[M] Olinkai Serenity {IC}
Originally Posted by Stormwolf
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