Before the Dark
Part 2 of Trapped Within Darkness - Nothing bad could happen in this part, right?
The Chosen Path — “Flashback to before the prologue.”
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Trapped Within Darkness
Part 1: Before the Dark
2 days earlier
6:45 am...
brrrRRIIIINGGGGG brrrRRIIIINGGGGG brrrRRII--
God damn alarm clock. It can't be morning already; It can't be this morning already. It felt so far away, but now it had the audacity to show up almost out of nowhere. Inevitable as it was, I wanted it to stay that way. Might as well get it over with. I rose like a zombie just awoken from its grave out of my old - and boy do I mean old - bed.
I have about an hour and a half before I need to be at school. Why do I even need to go to school? I won't be attending there any longer after today; guess I need to say bye to my friends and teachers. Oh, right, I almost forgot – I have no friends and my teachers are all douche canoes. The only person I need to say goodbye to is my best friend Oliver, but he doesn't go to school with me. I wish he did, but that would only make us both larger targets for the bullies that parade around.
Should I shower? Nah. Showers are for people that have motivation and care about their appearance. Motivation is something I rarely see in myself anymore; I showered yesterday anyway. What should I wear today? Goodwill or hand-me-downs from Dad, or both? Rifling through the moving boxes all my clothes are packed into I felt something at the bottom, and as usual my curiosity got the better of me.
"Ow, what the f–" was all I could manage before I realized I had cut my palm on the shattered glass of my only family portrait. I picked it up from the box, looking at it somewhat nostalgically but also with a stinging anguish. Shattered family portrait – fitting, considering my actual family is shattered as well. My blood had dripped onto it, ruining the last photo I had of my family together. Sadly, the broken glass, the blood and my family nearly perfectly represent what happened that day a few years ago. I hate thinking about that day. No time to relive past tragedies, this cut needs to be cleaned and wrapped.
After I slipped on my old, very worn out clothes I headed off to the bathroom down the hall to take care of the gash that I so gracefully gave myself.
"Mornin' Kolt," I heard from around the corner of my mom’s slightly cracked bedroom door, "how're ya doing?"
"Hey mom, I'm alright. Just getting ready for school. I wake you?" I wonder how she even knew I was up since she usually doesn't wake up until at least noon.
"Nah, I was already up. I heard you yell, is everything al-alright?" she said, sounding slightly concerned.
"Oh, yeah. I was just looking for clothes in the moving boxes and there was some broken glass hidden at the bottom. Just a small cut on my hand." Not like she would care about a cut anyway, as she has proven time and time again.
"You gotta be more careful, baby! Do ya need any help cleanin' it?" she yelled through the door, sounding even more concerned now. I wonder what has gotten into her, she is never this nice. Probably got her prescription filled finally – I wonder how she managed this time.
"No, I'm okay. It really is just a sma--" I trailed off as the door swung wide open, revealing my mom standing in the doorway.
She looked rough, but then again when doesn't she. She had bags under her eyes, so heavy they pulled down on her eyelids and her hair was a mess. Her shorts were on backwards, obviously, I don't think the words “Daddy’s Girl" were meant to be worn on the front. Her loose tank top was stained with a couple unknown substances, the straps both hanging down. Talking to her for even another minute may result in a tragic flashing incident that ends up blinding me. The only thing holding up her tank top was the bottle of pills she stuffed between her breasts – Oxycodone. Well I was right about her picking up her "prescription". Accompanying the pills, was a fifth of jack she held in her hand, which explains the good mood; Oh boy.
"Are ya s-sure? Do ya wantsum oxy to help with your pain?" Wow, I didn't realize how badly she was slurring her words when she was in her room. She shook the bottle of pills at me, still between her breasts, almost playfully – I shuddered. In her drunken, drugged-out stupor all she could manage was half of a yellow smile. Almost as if the other side of her face was numb.
"Uh, no mom. I'm okay. I'd like to go to my last day of school with some dignity left." I foolishly mumbled out without thinking. Having no filter is something I have been and always will be cursed with. Brace for it.
"Wud you s-say to me boy? Dignitity? you sayin' I don't have none? I have plenty o fuckin' dignty!" She waved the open bottle at me, spilling some jack on the ground. She slurs her words even worse when she is angry.
"Yeah, and it looks like you just spilled some of that dignity on the ground." Truly, I’m digging my own grave here.
"ExcUUUUUSE m-me?! I don't have'ta take this shit from you. I'm yur FUCKIN' mom. I p-provide for you, put a...a house ova your HEAD! I bringgg you food h-home and give you plent--"
Suddenly my inner monologue chimes in.
Punch her. My moms voice fades behind the whispering voice in my head, fighting with my conscience. Punch. Her.
No. I can't do that, she's my mom.
She is hardly a mom, punch her.
No, I don't want to.
She deserves it.
Maybe she does, but not from her son.
Take your anger out on her.
No, it's not right.
Make her bleed.
I don't want to hurt her, I'm not that kind of person.
Yet.
"A-and just so ya'know I'm n-not even that dr-- HEY! where a-are you goin'!? I ain't don wif you yet!' She screamed at me as I ran to the bathroom and slammed the door.
The door made a heavy thud against the wall after I flung it closed with nearly all my strength. I nearly collapsed, but caught myself on the counter by bending over it. My heart was pounding out of my chest, and my ears were ringing from the anger welling up inside of me. I'm going to explode if I don't do something. One simple word floated into my head.
Pain.
Suddenly my hand slid down to the palm of my other injured hand as if by instinct, my thumb hovering over my freshly cut skin that had stopped bleeding. I clamped my hand down hard, pressing my thumb into the wound. I can hardly feel it. It hurts, but at the same time, I really just don't care about the pain. She was now banging on the door like a cop would before breaking it down.
"Who the fuck you thi-think you are ta walk way from me!?" My mom screamed from the other side of the door, "Yur just gon' run away from your problems like a-a pussy?!"
My skin rips as I press down even harder on my cut, causing blood to start oozing out and down my arm. All I could think about was trying to escape the pain I was in. Not the physical pain; I almost welcomed that. No, the mental pain; the pain that has grown and grown over the years to an unmanageable size. The pain that I am alone with, and that no one else will ever understand.
7:15 am
I notice the clock in the bathroom, I only have an hour left before I need to be to school. I still need to ride to my dads and grab my backpack that I left there, before even heading to school. Snapping out of the panic attack that I was having, I released my grasp on my wound and started wrapping it with gauze from the medicine cabinet so I could make a quick escape. She's still drunkenly yelling at me outside the door, but I haven't heard a word she has said. I need to de-escalate this so I can leave. Unlocking the bathroom door, I breathed in deeply before turning the knob.
"Well look who fuh-inally deci-decided to come out of the damn bafroom!" Well?! What do you haf ta say?" she asked me in a condescending tone.
"I'm sorry mom, I shouldn't have said those things, I really have to go so I can get to school. I’ll see you later." Was all that came out of my mouth. Just going to have to wait for another day to tell my mom off since now was not the time, she's too laid out.
"That's right, get yur ass to school! Get outta here! Betta be back later so we c-can move our shit out to tha new pl-place." Drool dripped off her jack soaked lips as she made her final remark before she turned to head back to her cave like the troll she is. She took another swig as I watched her shut the door. Tonight is not going to be fun.
Before I headed out I grabbed some super nutritious breakfast, a package of pop-tarts, and stuffed it in my back pocket for later. Not much, but it's something. At least we have food in the house – thanks to my moms boy toys constantly leaving their food here.
My bike was chained to the side of the house with a bike lock, and only I have the key in case my mom tried to pawn it off for some pills. The old BMX bike didn't have working brakes, had a broken seat and loose handlebars. It wasn't much but it was mine.
I removed the necklace I wear with the key on it, and tried to unlock the bike. The lock was stuck. Oh come on, I have to go. It's probably just an old lock, needs to be given a bit of a push. Twisting the key harder was not only unsuccessful, but the key snapped in half. One half was in my hand, and one stuck in the lock with no hope of ever coming out.
"Goddammit." I mutter under my breath out of frustration. I really need to leave or I'm going to be late. I check my watch for the time.
7:23 am
No way would I make it without my bike. How am I going to get this lock off? Maybe we have a tool in the shed I can use to pry or cut it off.
I hated the shed, that's where.. I'd rather not think about it. There’s also always a bunch of very friendly species of arachnids to worry about. Our back gate creaks open when I unlatch it, revealing an unkempt yard full of weeds that reach heights taller than myself. Junk had been strewn across the yard by either my mom or the many guys she brought home. The shed sits in the corner, looking ominous and broken down. Probably a hazard just to enter it. Eh nothing worse could happen to me today, might as well.
The inside of the shed was like entering a horror movie, with various tools laying about; some looking more dangerous than others. Dried blood stains on the ground, webs everywhere with eggs sacs freshly opened, and a bullet hole in the wood side paneling. Even seeing that made me wince. I need to get out of here. Before I leave, out of the corner of my eye I spot a pair of chain cutters. Perfect. Making my way back through the yard is like navigating a minefield of junk. Have to be extremely careful not to step on anything that might go through my foot.
"Please let this work." I mutter, as if something is listening to me and can actually grant my wish. After a bit of a fight to get the chain in place, finally I had enough leverage to try and break the chain. Requiring way more strength than I should possess, the chain finally snapped and freed my bike.
I set off down the street, pumping the pedals with all my strength. before I know it I'm already half-way to my Dad’s. Out of nowhere I feel a strange sensation on my shoulder, under my shirt. Must be the wind making my shirt blow against me, no time to stop now and check anyway because I'm almost there.
The condos that my dad lives in never cease to amaze me. How could the property owner let the buildings and land get to such horrible conditions. The walls are all different colors of paint from years and years of being repainted. The layers of paint on the walls almost look like the natural rock formations that happen over millions of years at the Grand Canyon – just a lot more depressing. There were potholes in the parking lot the size of small meteor craters and bushes so overgrown that I think they have to legally be referred to as trees now. A few homeless people and drug addicts wandered the grounds. I wish he didn't have to live here, its not fault that he’s disabled and can’t work — he deserves better.
I performed a series of rhythmic knocks on the door, and was answered by a few more. I think it's funny he still remembers the secret knock we used to do when I was little. It's the small things that matter. Before he opened the door, I heard him unlock a series of at least 7 different locks. It's sad that my dad lives in a constant state of fear and paranoia. He used to be so different, but that doesn't matter anymore because he is the only person in my life that I trust more than anyone.
"Hey bud! How ya doing?" He bellows from behind the door as it swings open. You would never expect my dad to have such a booming voice, it still astounds me sometimes. As the door finally opens, there he is in all his glory; Dad.
He almost always looked the same, and almost always acted the same. No surprises, no bullshit, just my dad. He always greets me with a huge smile, like he was seeing me for the first time, even though I just saw him last night. He hobbled towards me using his cane to give me a hug, something that I wished I could have more of. His embrace was soft, yet strong. Even though my dad is handicapped, he doesn't let it stop him from keeping in shape. He has always looked the same, almost like he hasn't aged a day in years. His messy hair always reminded me of a surfer, something I always wanted him to teach me, even though we live in the desert. He wore his favorite Hard Rock Cafe shirt, as he almost always did. The most recognizable and humbling feature that my dad had, even at his relatively young age, is his smile wrinkles. No matter what he has gone through he always manages a smile.
"I'm a good dad, just headed to school. I just came by to say hi and grab my--" He cuts me off before I could even finish my sentence.
"Looking for this, eh?" he said as he pulls my backpack from behind the door and hands it to me, "I was going to call you and let you know, but you ain't stupid, so I knew you'd come back for it."
"Well, you wouldn't think that if you saw my grades, but let's keep it that way." I scoff, before he has the chance to say something witty. He can be a sarcastic asshole – that's where I get it from. "I can only stay a few minutes, because I have to get on my way to school."
"That's fine bud, I'll take a few minutes over not seeing you at all. I know I just saw you last night, but how is everything?" he asked me, genuinely wanting to know how I was.
"Eh, you know, things are going great. I cut my self by accident picking up one of our family portraits that had shattered, my bike lock broke, I'm starting at a new school soon, mom is strung out again this morning and I'm leaving town today to leave behind my only best friend, and the only parent that gives a shit about me. Life's good, ya know?" was the most sarcastic response I could think of.
"Okay, okay, stupid question, I get it.” My dad raised his hands, having known it was dumb to ask. “Sorry to hear about your hand. Glad to see you remember the first aid lessons I gave you though. I really don't have anything to say about your mom, but I wouldn't have expected any different. I wish you could move in with me, so I could take care of you. Life's not fair though, and the justice system is fucked, so here I reside. You're 17 though, 18 is just around the corner and you'll be able to decide for yourse-- Don't move, Kolt." He said, panicked all of a sudden.
"What, why?" That's when I realized my dad had seen something. By looking at his now wide eyes, I could tell he was looking at my right shoulder, where I felt that odd sensation earlier while riding my bike. "What is it?" I whispered, barely moving my mouth.
"I need you to stay calm, please do that for me." he said, nervously.
My heart started racing, and I was starting to tremble a bit from anxiety. He took his gaze off of whatever it was for a second to meet my eyes before mouthing “Black Widow”.
"Get. It. Off." I whispered between my teeth. I absolutely hate spiders, they are one of, if not my biggest fear. Black widows are at the top of that list too. Out of fear I start trembling harder. I felt it move. Nope. Completely out of my control, my body twitched out of disgust or horror or both. I could see the shift in my dads eyes to terror in a fracture of a second. Without hesitating, my dad lunged forward and grabbed the spider, enclosing it in his palm and removing it from my shoulder.
"AHHOUUCHHH!! God dammit, you little bastard!" My dad screamed as the Black Widow plunged its venom-filled fangs into his palm. Little did that spider know, that's the last thing it would ever do. Before it even had a chance to strike again, he threw it down on the ground and stomped on it with his shoes. Afterwards to make sure it was dead, or for revenge, he twisted and dug his cane over top of it, shredding it, so there was no possibility of it coming back.
"Holy shit are you okay Dad? I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to move, I didn't have any control over it." I uttered, trying to apologize for my mistake. "It's not going to kill you is it?" The bite on his palm was small, but you could clearly see 2 defined puncture holes. They were leaking out a venom-blood mixture onto his palm and it was already starting to swell.
"It's okay Kolt, you have nothing to be sorry for. I would rather be bitten than risk you being bitten. Besides, it's only on my hand, not my neck. I have time to get this treated now, you wouldn't have. I'll be alright, just have to make my way over to the hospital pronto. Who knows, maybe I'll turn into Spider-Dad." He said, managing a smile, "You should get to school, don't even worry about me. I'll be fine."
I check my clock, to see what this ordeal has cost me time wise.
7:46 am
"Are you sure dad? I can skip and go to the hospital with you. I want to know that you're okay." I begged him.
"Yeah bud, I promise I'll be okay. Don't skip class and get in trouble with your school, or worse yet, your mom. I'll give you a call when I'm being checked out today so you know I'm alright." He said reassuringly.
"Alright dad, please be careful getting there. Thanks for saving me, I owe you big time. I'll see you later before I leave town. Don't forget to call me!" I implored.
"Damn straight you owe me big time! and I wont, bud. Try and have a good rest of your day. See you later!" He answered with a smile on his face. He hobbled to me and gave me one last bear hug before I left.
Walking to my bike, I spotted a homeless man across the parking lot staring at me with rather wide eyes. Not today Mr. Hobo, find another kid to ogle at for the day. Right as I hop onto my bike and place my foot on the pedal, suddenly, not even a foot away is the homeless man. Still wide eyed and staring. Before I could react his hand whipped forward and grabbed my right arm with tremendous strength. My luck yet again, I'm dealing with the Schwarzenegger of homeless people.
"What's your problem man, get your hand off me!" I ordered, trying to free myself from his grasp, but it only got tighter.
"It's coming for you." He urged in a forced, raspy whisper. My eyes snapped to him as he said that, and as soon as I locked eyes with him something I cannot explain happened – his eyes turned black. They were normal, but then it looked as if they started to fill with a black ink that just took over his eyes. Looking into them all I could feel was absolute dread.
"What the..GET OFF OF M--!" was all I could manage to get out of my mouth before I started to seize. I didn't even realize it was happening, and before I even knew it – darkness.
"You good kid?! What's going on, why are ya shaking? Hullo?! SOMEONE HELP, DIS KID IS IN TROUBLE!" I shouted into the void, hoping someone would answer my cry for help. Luckily, behind the building, there were two police walking around the grounds trying to get the homeless to move. They came running up and grabbed the kid from me.
"What happened here?!" One of the officers demanded.
"I got no idea sir, I came up ta the boy originally to ask for a light and he didn't look so good. He lookn' mighty sick and pale, so I grabbed his arm to keep 'em steady. Then he started screamin' bloody murder so I let him go, and that's when he fell over shakin'." I declared to the officer.
"Okay thank you sir, please step back, we have this under control." the officer demanded, "Dispatch, 10-52, young white male unconscious and seizing. Stable for now, cause unknown."
I hope the kid is alright, he's in for one helluva time.
Kolt seems to be having a really hard time, but knowing the Shadow Realm already awaits him, what made him fear his dreams in the first place? Find out next week! Keep on choosing and see where this story goes! Trapped Within Darkness will return in 3 weeks after the next issues of Expedition Epsilon and Perthro: The Rune of Mystery. Look out for the character sheet of Lilith Faust, Kolt’s mother, coming out on Tuesday for paid subscribers! You could earn a free premium membership if your refer 3 people, and you will have access to the character sheets! I hope you have a great week, and as always — Choose Fiction!
I loved the background of kolt with the parents. Gives me more of an understanding of kolt.
This is the one that scares me out of all the stories you are writing!!! Yikes ... Edge of my seat! I can only handle one chapter at a time. Scary!!!