Angel sat across from Derrick, who suggested they sit away from the other sports kids. He sat looking at the older boy, and sharing his attention with the clock that hung above the double doors of the cafeteria. Fifty students exchanged banter amongst themselves, but Angel found it difficult to care about what Derrick spoke of; considering none of it had anything to do with shared interests.
“So?” Derrick asked
Sighing, Derrick leaned back in his chair, “You weren’t listening.”
“Yeah, I was, but I had to take it all in.” Angel was a horrible liar, but had a habit of being in his own head when he lacked interest.
“Look, I know you don’t like me, but-“ Angel raised an eyebrow at that, an assumption that rang true to the boy who just wanted to be left alone, “I just want you to see that I’m not some idiot sports guy.”
“Okay.” Humoring the notion that it wasn’t something material that Derrick wanted from him, Angel nodded, “Why should I not think that?”
“I know it’s what you might have thought before, and still think now, but I don’t always party and stuff. I like having intelligent conversations, and I’m tired of talking with kids who don’t know anything. You just seem different.”
Angel didn’t say anything; he just starred as a way to let him continue his thought.
“Have you ever had something happen that made you think… differently about your life? Like, if you almost died or something? I mean, as if you found God or something.” Derrick asked, he breathed slower so he could articulate as Angel continued to stare, “I just want to get to know you, that’s all.”
He’d heard enough. It was bad enough that they hadn’t know each other for seven years, but to want to be friends now was suspicious as hell. It bothered Angel, and it wasn’t in his nature just to trust anyone right off the bat. If Derrick wanted his friendship, he’d have to earn it. Standing, Angel began to walk away, rolling his eyes. He felt a hand grip his wrist, “Just think about it, okay?”
Not only did Angel feel Derrick holding his wrist, but a rising of sorts. It was small at first, but it struck his stomach hard before spreading to the rest of his body. He ripped his arm away and turned to the double doors. Angel made his way out, still feeling a sudden nausea. He pushed the door open and rounded the corned into the hallway, but was stopped. He’d made contact with someone since he hadn’t been paying attention.
It seemed to be an accident as she stepped back, lightly touching his forearm, “Oh. I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you there.”
The phrase ‘not a problem’ was natural for him, and he would have spoke those words, but a wave of disorientation gripped him. Other people in the hall went around him, but he hadn’t noticed. For a short moment, a rising clasped his stomach and made him stop completely. The hall spun faster with each step, which sparked his immense confusion, as he felt fine a moment ago. Dizzy, he managed to catch another glimpse of the girl he’d run into.
It was the same girl from before; the one who he’d seen in the hall. She looked concerned, but not for him. Her concerned eyes seem to linger on what would come from his ailment. In the midst of his sudden illness, he stumbled away from her since she didn’t seem to want to help him.
The girl stepped away from him. She stared at him, her blue eyes studying him as he moved. Angel slowed to a stop, the dizziness too intense to continue on. Other students seemed to think he was just fooling around, laughter turned to dull tones in his ears, and the girl he’d run into disappeared in a sea of teenagers watching his misery. He fell to one knee and felt a slew of vomit erupt from his throat. He heaved as more came up and splattered on the floor in front of him.
Angel shut his eyes hoping to quell his tipsy-turning hell, longing for it to stop. Bodies continued to pass by; just bodies in a sea of shifting colors that turned to a black abyss. Lights diminished and the churning of the environment began to slow, but the rising feeling increased as Angel let it take him.
A repeating tone rang in his ear. It took Angel a minute; slowly opening his eyes, the boy caught the sight of a bright ceiling light above his bed. The sting forced him to shut his eyes and groan at the uncomfortable effect. A hospital? From the flat bed to the IV in his arm, he’d realized why it felt like he’s been asleep for a long time. What happened was a blur- a kaleidoscope of confusion as he sat up. He remembered being in school, but that was in the afternoon. “Dad?”
Looking around the room, he saw a loveseat in the corner next to the window, but no one was in it. He expected his father to be there if he was in the hospital. He knew his dad to come running if he was in the hospital, but he wasn’t there. And where was the doctor? Angel felt a tinge of dizziness as he tried to remember what happened, but thoughts of his father plagued him. Where was he? Lying against the pillow, he raised his hand to his face, rubbing his eye.
He hadn’t been in a hospital since he was a little boy, but what put him here in the first place? He couldn’t remember much after an odd lunch with Derrick, and even then he hadn’t felt well.
Then, a sound entered his ear. Someone was talking, but it sounded like they were right next to him. Sitting up again, he made sure there was no one else in the room. The man’s voice was low at first, but got louder with each sentence.
Maybe I’ll get a beer after this. The man said. Angel didn’t have to struggle to hear, but that wasn’t the point. Where was it coming from? Where the walls just that thin? He slowly got up on his knees and pressed his ear to the wall. He couldn’t hear a thing from the other room, but the voice continued. What’s the room number again?
Angel climbed out of the bed, the cold floor sending chills up his bare feet through his legs and into the rest of his body. The hospital gown did little to clothe him as he felt a draft on his rear end.
Can’t believe his dad went out so easy. The voice sounded so close. As Angel thought this, the man’s voice echoed over his own thoughts… in his head.
The chart says Angel Mercer. This is the right room. Angel snapped around to the door and froze. Not only was he hearing someone else’s voice in his head, but the man seemed to be outside his room. He stood still, helpless as the door handle turned slowly. His pounding heart reminded him of the movie, Aliens, but the thought quickly evaporated. He held his breathe as if that would help.
The wooden door slid open, and light from the hallway poured in as a giant of a man slid in. His black trench coat was tied at the waste, covering the majority of his white dress shirt and black tie. The man sported a dark brown goatee that seemed to match his bald head and dark eyes. The big man towered over Angel, but when he turned, he didn’t do anything. The boy noticed that the man’s eyes were scanning the room, completely ignoring Angel.
Instead of confronting the boy, the man turned his attention to the open bathroom. Angel was hit with another wave of confusion as the man crossed the room. He should have been more concerned with the fact that a strange man was searching his room, but all the boy could think about was the fact that the man seemed to pass right over him.
Then, his thought process was broken as the boy suddenly lost his breath. Actually, it was choked out of him as he looked up the bald man, feeling a big hand around his neck. He felt his body being lifted off the ground, and he struggled for breath.
“Thought you could hide from me, kid?” The voice definitely matched the one he ‘heard’ moments ago; profound and gruff. It didn’t matter because his intentions were clear, and Angel had never felt this level of fear. He skated by without being noticed, and now he was in danger. He didn’t want to die; panic set in and his heart pounded harder.
Angel fought to reach the man’s face, but his reach was too short. Gripping the thick, muscular arm, Angel felt something of a static shock, but a bit different. It all happened so fast, but something deep down in his gut moved upward. To Angel, it would seem like an intense boost of adrenaline, but in the form of electricity. Or at least that’s what it looked like as it danced from his hands to the brute’s arm.
Suddenly, the man was sent crashing through the door he came in. Angel dropped to his knees, sucking in as much air as he could. He gasped as his lungs were relieved, but he looked to his hands as they… sparked, “Wha-?”
To be continued...
Young Guns: Escape Part 3
Blog entry posted by Barrenx2, Jul 13, 2012.
About the Author
I love gaming, yet have no money to really enjoy all the games I'd like. I can't promise many reviews or anything like that, but I can promise to give you my honest opinion with the knowledge that I have. If I'm wrong, I'll admit it and keep it moving! I'm on Youtube, believe it or not! http://www.youtube.com/user/vtuittt3?feature=guide