CHAPTER TWO: Tired of These Tears

I wanted to ask the manager what else he knew about that boy, but James had grabbed my hand and started pulling me away. My head turns back and takes one last long look at the manager and the fallen candy. Why was that boy stealing candy? I stumble and grab James' arm to steady myself, he doesn't slow down, he doesn't stop, he just keeps up with his quick pace. We walk like this for three blocks before I can't stand it anymore. I put my feet down on the concrete and use every ounce of strength and weight in me to stop him, and this time he stops. He turns to face me, his nose red a thin trail of blood swept to the side, a sore on his right cheek, and confusion in his eyes. Confusion mingled with anger.

"My wrist hurts, your squeezing too hard." I can't look him in the face. I don't like seeing him like this. But he loosens his grip on my wrist and continues to walk in his brisk pace, towing me along behind him. Another block, and another, and soon we're almost back to my house. I have a feeling in my gut, and I don't like it. James isn't the type of person to let things go. He'll hunt down that Peter Pan, and hurt him. I know this. "You're going to find him, aren't you?" I know this, and yet I still have to ask, confirm my fears.

James doesn't speak, too focused on getting me home, but I can tell by his silence that I'm right.

"Don't do it. You'll only get hurt -- "

James turns to face me, face red with anger, "Are you saying that I'm too weak to take on some bum!"

Quickly I shake my head, realizing I just made it worse. "I didn't mean that --" His grip tightens around my wrist and I gasp in pain, but glowers at me and lets go. I hold my wrist to my body, it's red and chafed. He exhaled loudly and bites his lower lip, "You can walk the rest of the way home,"he mutters as he turns and walks back the way we had come.

Involuntarily, my body turns to watch him go. I watch helplessly as he walks farther and farther away from me, and it's only until I feel the moisture slipping down my face that I realize I'm crying. My vision blurrs until he disappears and reappears behind my tears, I run a hand over my eyes and wipe my eyes on my sleeve. After a couple more minutes, I pull myself away and continue walking home.

My feet feel like their wearing heavy shoes of lead, and my legs feel like they're made of rubber. There's an ache in my heart and an ache on my back, my face is swollen and my eyes are red, but I keep walking. With each step I take, the distance between us grows. I don't want to be with someone who can't care to walk me all the way home. I don't want to be with someone who'd rather go after some boy than to dry my tears. I don't want to be with James Hook any longer. And yet, I don't want to be without him either.

It takes longer than usual to get to my house, because I stopped a couple of times to wipe my eyes so I could see. My mother isn't home. My brothers are probably in they're room playing video games or something, so I slip into the house unnoticed.

Like a wave, I feel somewhat better. The comfort of my room better than the openness of the outdoors. I shut my door and fall willingly onto my bed. The comforter sinks with my weight and I sigh heavily wishing I could fall asleep like this. But of course, my brothers have other plans. Almost immediately, my bedroom door flies open and my youngest brother Micheal runs into my room, flailing his arms and screaming. I jerk at the sudden noise and look up with a glare at the ten year old boy, who is still running around my room screaming. "Micheal! Get out of my room!"

He jumps onto my bed and falls on top of me, "But John's coming! He's gonna eat my brains!"

A sigh escapes my lips and John soon appears, arms straight out in front of him, mouth slack, tongue lolling out the side, eyes cock-eyed, and groaning, "Braaaiinnnnssssss.." A zombie invasion, oh great.

Micheal squeals and throws a pillow at John, who catches it and takes a bite out of the material. "Gross, John! I have to sleep on that!" I take the pillow out of his mouth and place it back on my bed. John goes around my bed to where Micheal is, and groans loudly, "Braaainnnsssss!" Micheal screams and ducks under his older brother's arms and rushed toward me, throwing himself into my arms, "Save me, Wendy!" I grunt at his weight, "You're too big for this!" I stagger to gain my balance, but John is at my side and licks my cheek, "Disgusting!" My legs give and I fall roughly on the floor, Micheal perched on top of my stomach with a giant grin on his face.

If there was any way to get a person's mind off of something, a zombie invasion was perfect.

John laughs and throws his arms up in triumph, "Now you're all zombies!" Micheal giggles and throws his arms up as well. I smile, but it comes out weak and forced, because there's a body sitting on me. I roll over and Micheal jumps off. Standing, I manage a breathless laugh and smile. Micheal jumps up onto my bed again and squeals, "Wendy! Tell us a story!" John nods earnestly and sits himself next to Micheal, "Yeah, a story about zombies!" A sigh escapes my lips and I sat in between my two brothers. "All right, a story about zombies."

"Once upon a time, there were two little boys, who loved their mother very much. One day, an old man came knocking on their door, Knock, knock, knock. The youngest boy opened the door and let the old man in, but the old man wasn't really a man at all. . ."


I smile at my brothers fondly as they run out of my room to play more video games. They had recently bought a new game, and they kept playing it again and again, trying to beat their old high score. I don't exactly know what the game is about, but there's a zombie level they're always playing. I've never been all that into video games, but it's fun to watch sometimes. Especially since my brothers can't seem to sit still when they play. Micheal is always jumping up and down, screaming at the screen, and John is constantly jumping out of his seat whenever something sudden happens, and then sits back down when things cool down, only to jump up again. They still acted like little children, especially Micheal who thought he was still six when he was ten. John was only a year older, and tried to act mature whenever grown ups were around, but at home or with his friends, he was just as childlike as his brother.

I hear my phone ringing on my bed side table and pick it up, "Hello?"

"It's Lilly!" The voice greets.

"Oh, hey! I was going to come over today, but I got busy, sorry." I bit my lip, feeling bad that I was lying to my best friend. But I didn't want to tell her that I didn't go because I got in a fight with my boyfriend.

"Are you busy now? Can you come over? You need to come over now! Or no, go to the hospital!" Her words were flowing like a never ending river, no stop between the words, and no pause between the sentences so it sounded like a mesh of meaningless words.

"Whoa! Slow down! What did you say? Something about a bus and a hospital?" I shake my head, but still concerned a bit. Did something happen to her? Was she in the hospital?

"James. Is. Hurt." Those three words made everything slow down. "He was fighting with some kid outside my house, and they jumped the fence into my backyard. James landed on my crocodile, he lost his hand."

I shut the phone and ran out my room. My brothers looked up from the television screen for a second, "Wendy?" But I ignored them. I had to get to the hospital. I had to see him. I should have done something else. I should have stopped him. I should have went after him. I flew out the door, not caring to close it behind me, and ran as fast as my legs could move me. Wishing desperately I had a car, or had the mind to grab a bike or something, but that would have taken too much time. I had to see him now.

The blocks flew passed, the street signs were a blur, a dog somewhere barked at me as I ran, but I didn't stop. I didn't even slow down. Was this how James felt? A surge of adrenaline causing you to surge forward without thinking, acting completely on impulse and nothing else? Was this how he was feeling when he -- I shook my head, ridding those thoughts from my mind. No. I had to focus. I shook my head again, and suddenly the world was spinning and I fell hard to the ground. My hands flamed and my knees burned with pain. I lay on the cool ground, side of my face pressed to the cement, hands held a couple inches above it. Even thought I was lying on the ground, my legs still felt like they were running. I groaned and pushed myself up slowly, looking around, embarrassed that I tripped like that. My eyes caught a familiar sight, the hospital!

I crossed the street quickly and entered the hospital, greeted instantly by the smells of clean floors and sick people. I go up to the nurse station, "Excuse me?"

The red-haired young nurse looks up from the computer screen, "How can I help you?"

"Is there a patient here by the name of James Hook?" I ask slowly, extremely aware of how good the cold counter top feels against my burning hands.

She turns away to look back at the computer screen for a minute, then looks back at me, "He's in surgery. Are you family?"

I could tell the truth and not get to see him, or I could lie. Hmm...I wonder which I should do? "Yes, he's my cousin." That was good. Enough of a gene difference so we wouldn't have to look alive. Cousins, that was good. The nurse nodded slowly and looked back at the computer screen, "Just sit over there and I'll let you know when you can see him." I follow with my eyes to where she was pointing and saw some familiar faces. "Mrs. Hook? Mr. Hook?" I mutter under my breath as I walk over toward James' parents.

"Oh my God, Wendy!" Mrs. Hook throws her arms around me and sobs loudly into my hair. Unconsciously, I wrap my arms around her. "My poor boy!" She moans and squeezes me tighter. The tears fall. My mind goes blank and all I can do is cry and hold the older woman. Honestly, I'm getting tired of crying.