Chapter 18 – Worries & Fear

It felt strange, but he seemed to enjoy it. The cool, crisp, clean air at dusk made Maxwell feel more alive. Like a buzzing beacon of heat, Maxwell slowly walked his way down an empty street just as the sun melted on the horizon and oozed itself a beautiful looking surrounding of orange, red and sunflower yellow in the nearby sky. The street felt very deserted – almost as if something apocalyptic had occurred prior to Maxwell presence. But it didn't bother him. As he walked down the centre of the road; hands in his pockets and gazing up at the multi-coloured dusk sky, he started to hear another set of footsteps in the background. They weren't close, but they were certainly echoing down the road.

Curious as he was, Maxwell stopped and turned around in a slow 180 degree spin. The sky was a darker tone to where his sight was – lack of bright warm colours gave way to a cooler mix of cyans and navy blues in the eastern sky. Maxwell began to see an image of someone slowly gaining distance from him. It was nothing but a blur for the time being. Maxwell squinted his eyes and tried to block out the blur. But still, there was no clear sight to who it was. But it wasn't long before the detailed look of the person became crystal clear to him. Maxwell's puzzled half-open mouth soon closed and expressed the sign of a smile. He knew exactly who was walking up to him. It was Sarah.

"Hey bro, what'cha doing out here?" Sarah asked – dressed in her typical cream-coloured casual clothes.

"Oh I just thought I'd take a bit of walk outside." Maxwell further raised his smile to a chuckling grin. "I feel kinda silly now, coz' I have no idea where I am."

The two were still a short distance away from one another, but Sarah could clearly hear Maxwell. Sarah smiled and raised a quick laugh. "Oh don't worry, I know the way home – I always seem to anyway."

Maxwell began walking towards Sarah. All his attention was focused on Sarah – the sight of seeing her smile always raised one on his face too. Without warning, Maxwell slightly lost his footing – tripping slightly on a raised bit of gravel and black stone on the road. His body moved slightly to the left. But as he resumed walking, something caught his attention. A blurry dark image had suddenly appeared at the corner of Maxwell's eye. Still smiling, Maxwell turned to the dark image. But what he would eventually see was certainly nothing to be happy about. A person – shadowed in a strange curtain of complete blackness apart from one specific area of detail, raised a gun towards Sarah; ready to fire and standing firm and strong.

The smile soon turned into a wide open mouth – amplifying Maxwell's cry to Sarah to get out of the way. Sarah's smile quickly dropped and turned to both confusion and fear. She slowly turned around – instinctively not listening to Maxwell's plea. But it seemed this time; her curiosity would cost her dear. Just as she had fully turned around 180 degrees exactly, the dark shadow-like being pulled the trigger. The loud bang of the gun was like a blade of fire to Maxwell's heart. Sarah was thrown back – into the air and crashing immediately down back onto the black gravel ground. A crimson-toned bloody stain dyed her cream polo-shirt.

Maxwell paid no attention to the major bit of detail on the being's head, his shock of seeing his sister on the ground in extreme pain and now hanging by a thread was too much to ignore. But as he sprinted over to Sarah to aid her, another bullet was fired.

But this time, the bullet had not come from the gun of the strange being. It had come from another source. A source that was standing right behind Maxwell. Maxwell's hands and legs suddenly felt numb – freezing over as if he had been standing in an arctic prison for too long. The numbness that was flowing through his body sparked and rushed throughout. It felt like it was coming from a source. A source that was somehow in his back. Within those brief few seconds of silence, Maxwell used what energy he had left in his right hand and reached for the middle area of his back. He rubbed the point of complete numbness for a few seconds and then looked at his hand again. It was what he expected. His hand was covered in deep-toned blood. Maxwell had been shot in the back………by a 2nd entity.

Maxwell collapsed onto the floor – angling himself as he feel so that he landed back down and touching the ground. Dieing with one last sight of the beautiful sky was much more promising than an endless blur of gravel and stone. But one thing still buzzed around in his progressively shutting down brain. Who……who shot us?! Why?!

Maxwell's head felt like a lead weight. He struggled to look straight on. His half-open eyes showed enough expression to determine how Maxwell felt about what he saw. Standing over Sarah's bloody body was a small boy-like being. But apart from his complete blacked out image, there was one piece of clothing that had Maxwell shocked - the boy-like being's green hat……the same one Kyle wore. But as it became clear, Maxwell realised, the being took the same shape as Kyle. It shocked him. Kyle had killed Sarah.

As Maxwell continued to breathe heavy breaths of thick air to keep alive, the 2nd being walked across to look at Maxwell. This being however was not completely curtained by black. Over a body of pure black, the being wore an unusually recogniseable jacket. You……it's you?! But…why Right in Maxwell's sight, the tones of orange in the horizon sky had been outclassed by the strong tone of orange colour of the jacket – an orange hooded parka jacket. Maxwell saw nothing more. No face, no hand features, no hair, just a blank image of black – hidden slightly under a warm orange parka jacket.

The jacket-wearing being raised his gun – aiming directly at Maxwell's forehead. Maxwell heard the clicking of another trigger. He looked over. The Kyle-like being had also raised his gun. But not at him, but at Sarah instead, but he still looked at Maxwell with a blank emotionless face of blackness.

Maxwell screamed. "NOOOOOOOOOO!!!"

BANG!

Silence. Bright white light.

Maxwell shot up in fear. His bare chest rubbed against the warmth of his dark red quilt. It didn't take long for the fact to hit Maxwell right on the face. Maxwell had been dreaming – less of a dream and more of a nightmare.

Oh thank God, it was only a dream. Maxwell took half a dozen deep breaths and flung his quilt over to one edge of the bed. He sat up and moved to the open side. Hands leaning on his head, Maxwell looked down. OH…GOD! Maxwell didn't know whether to be thankful it wasn't real or simply burst into tears because of what he had dreamt. Sure of nothing, Maxwell got up and walked out of his bedroom. It was 3 'o' clock in the morning but he could see where he was going. First stop, Sarah's bedroom. As he slowly but carefully pushed the door slightly open, Maxwell peaked in. Sarah was fast asleep – clutching and hugging the top edges of her pink and purple bed quilt as she slept on her right side – facing Maxwell.

Maxwell closed the door again. His mind had gone blank – an empty stare of fear haunted his face, which by this time had turned whiter. Maxwell leaned up against the wall and slowly slid down until he was sitting on the carpeted hall floor – still leaning up against the wall. The floor banister was digging and pressing hard onto Maxwell's lower back, but he didn't seem to pay attention to that slight pain. An even bigger pain had etched itself in Maxwell's mind.

Why?! His thought echoed throughout his mind.