chapter ten
"Killing people is wrong, Blaine."
I felt like I was dreaming, but now I'm back at home, talking to Kelly. "Does that mean what he does is right?"
"Two wrongs don't make a right, Blaine."
And all because of her, you decided not to do it, but you thought about it, dreamed of its coming, but never went through with it.
Like she said, two wrongs don't make a right.
"C'mon, faggot, get up!"
Once again, Blaine's eyes slowly opened, but he felt strangely rested and relaxed.
"Jesus Christ! Do fuckers like you ever get up?!"
He was still in the school, in the infirmary. Everything seemed normal. He looked up from the ground. There, in front of him, stood Michael. He slowly got up. Michael was a short man, about five and a half feet in height. He wore a denim jacket.
Blaine blinked. "Michael? What the Hell are you doing here?"
He was holding a crowbar. "Looking for you, mother fucker! I got a call from that bitch you used to hang out with, what's-her-face, Kelly?"
Blaine's head throbbed. "No way, man. All these people I know just show up here. This has to be a dream, just like other nights. Soon I'm going to wake up."
"So she tells me that the cops are coming for me."
Blaine laughed. "Shut up, this is just a dream. You're not real."
Michael ran up to him, and swung the weapon hard into his stomach. Blaine fell back to the ground. Michael walked around him, spinning the crowbar in his hand. "So . . . you gonna be tellin' the cops what I did?"
Blaine remembered all the rage this man had caused him before. He remained quiet, letting the rage grow inside him.
Michael kicked him hard. "Well?"
Suddenly, Blaine watched as Michael was pulled back by his hair. He saw himself standing behind him.
"Who's the mother fucker now?!" He said as he shoved Michael into the infirmary bed, and started punching him. "You hurt me, you hurt Kelly, you forced me not to tell anyone, and you made sure my life was miserable all the time!"
Blaine was on his feet, and he watched himself pull the crowbar from Michael's hand, pull him to his feet, and hit him on the head with it.
He ran up to his other self. "Jesus Christ, don't kill him!"
The other Blaine looked him in the eye. "I can't do that, Blaine, you have to." He said as he handed him the crowbar.
Blaine took it, and saw Michael in pain on the ground. "No. . ." He said. "No way. I can't kill anybody, it's just not right."
Then he faintly heard a siren in the distance.
"Hurry, Blaine, before he gets up!"
The siren became clearer and more distinct. "I can't!"
It became ever louder behind him. "If you don't do it now, you never will!"
Blaine looked at Michael on the ground. The siren was overwhelming. "I can't do it . . ."
The siren overtook him as he closed his eyes.
"Oh my God, I'm so sorry!"
Blaine's vision was blurry, as he opened his eyes. His head throbbed with pain.
"Let me help you up." She said kindly.
She helped him onto the infirmary bed, and he sat there, holding his head. He looked up at her, and, for the second time in this building, was shocked. His eyes widened. It was the woman from the locker. Soon, the shock disappeared. He knew her, he felt like he had known her for a long time, but he couldn't place her.
She didn't seem to notice the shock. "I'm so sorry! I saw you in the fog, and I thought you were a . . ." She stopped, probably not wanting to sound crazy.
"A monster?"
She sighed. "I guess so." She seemed genuinely frightened. "You've seen them too?"
Blaine's head throbbed again. "Yeah, they won't leave me alone."
"Well. . ." She continued. "I thought you were one of them, so I ran in here, and when you walked in, I hit you on the head."
He kept his hands to the injury. "Christ! Did you hit me with a truck?"
She laughed nervously.
Blaine looked at the counter behind him. On it laid a crowbar. He got up and walked over to it. "Where did you get this?"
"I found it."
"Where?!"
She thought for a moment. "Uh, I think it was at the hospital."
You left the crowbar with Amanda before she went off the bridge.
He looked at it more closely. It was definitely the same one. "Amanda. . ."
"What's wrong?"
He turned to face her. "I'm getting out of here." He said. "Are you coming with me or not?"
She seemed surprised from the question. "You're not going out there like that!"
Blaine walked over to the medicine cabinet, found some pain-killers, and swallowed some. "I'm fine." He said as he walked towards the door. He left the room, and she ran after him.
"Wait!" She said, and he stopped. "I guess I'll have to come."
So Blaine turned and looked at her. "What's your name?"
"Carol."
He knew that name, he knew her face, and he knew her voice. "I'm Blaine, so let's get the Hell out of here." They walked to the door.
click!
He ran to it, and tried the knob. "Shit! It's locked!" He turned to go back to the infirmary. "Wait here." He grabbed the crowbar and ran back.
He smashed the handle off, and the door swung open. "There!" He said as he turned towards her.
She was gone.
Blaine looked around. "Carol?" He ran up to the hallway. "Carol!" She wasn't there. "Oh Jesus. . . What the Hell is this town doing to people?!"
Calm down, Blaine. Amanda might be at the hospital. She's more important.
Blaine sighed. "You're right. I'd better go."
Keeping the crowbar that had been returned to him, he left the school. As he did, he felt a hand pat him on the back.
It's going to be alright, Blaine.