Together
To be together. You have to get her.
Chapter One
Death the Kid
My mother died winter of last year. In distraught and grief over her loss, my father turned to a drink for comfort. Which misleadingly led into one after the other, in which altogether - consumed him.
He's known as the drunkard of Death City. No sympathy shared through people's tone of voice as his name is passed through their mouths. Just a glance with their eyes and a quick smirk on their lips as they laugh at his misery.
Everyone's the same here. They all see each other as the enemy, but since my childhood ended I still find it extremely hard to acknowledge how such a small town could be full of so much hatred.
Before my mother passed she explained to me that it had something to do with the towns history. She claimed it to be some kind of curse that caused the town to startle themselves into complete chaos.
But still I could never understand why.
I turned my head to face the window beside me. Snow drifting across the surface of the glass as it hastily drifted through the winter wind.
A year tomorrow. My chin suddenly felt heavier against my palms.
As usual, my history lesson was dragging. My stupid teacher trying to overdose my thoughts with her crappy lecture.
I'm sure it were probably important, and something that I ought to know for future reasons but at that moment in time I had, nor could I be bothered to find the will to care.
I urged to dive through the classroom window and out into winter wonderland that looked and most probably felt like - home. I'd marry the outside world if I could.
Is it sad that a part of me wanted to run home, pick my father up from the floor along with every empty or soon to be empty beer can. I wanted to fix him, as best as I could. But while I were here and he were there, I knew by far he would always be broken.
The words, 'better to have loved and lost...' are no match for the pain my father has been driven through, myself included. No man should ever experience something so heart breaking, not like this - not ever.
"Death the Kid," Medusa was suddenly standing directly in front of me. "When did the Death City curse break loose?"
"Nineteen-fifty-three."
Her lips tightened into a thin line as she scowled down towards me. Her eyebrows drawing themselves close together to form the dark set of wrinkles that appeared upon her forehead.
She placed her bony hands against her hips, "that's correct. But in future lessons could you please pay attention?"
"I could..." almost immediately my gaze was drawn back to the window beside me. "But I won't."
Her frown deepened, and her glare grew sharper. But she knew there was no use in arguing back with me, as she knew she would just lose. I had long given up on caring.
"Whatever," she shook her head slowly. "It's your grade, not mine."
Every second I felt myself fading away. "It's your choice of job, not mine."
Annoyed wasn't enough the describe the look of anger and disbelief she had turned back to face me with. Her nostrils flared slightly, her jaw growing tighter with every second she held her tongue and her amber eyes, killing me slowly.
Despite my unneeded so called rebelliousness, the class around me remained silent while I continued to quarrel with the teacher. Surprisingly there were no laughs, cheers or joining in with the conversation, everyone stayed quiet. And it didn't take a genius to figure out it were only because they felt sorry for me.
"Fine," she sighed. "You leave me with no choice but to send you to the head teacher's office."
I was already placing my bag strap on my shoulder. "Even better, I'll go home."
Mummy.
"You can't do that," her words were like breaths for fresh air.
"You can't stop me."
I'll save dad, mummy.