Chapter 2: Run!

---Zack's POV---

My face went sheet white as I did a 180 and ran. I wasn't even registering what Mom was saying, let alone listening to her yell at me as I flew out of the ward, almost knocking down the nurse who had just entered and was about to say something, and down the hallway. I could sense people sticking their heads out the many offices and rooms only to see the cause of all the commotion was a 16-year-old blonde kid panting and sobbing. My eyes were streaming from either pain, tears or both. I could neither tell nor decide.

I skidded around the corner where the old lady named Margaret was slowly typing something into her computer. 'But yet again,' I thought, 'everything seems slow at the speed I'm going.' After exiting the automatic doors, I took a left, heading towards the park. My converse pounding the pavement; I was drowning in my own sweat. I sped by smokers and street vendors until I finally reached a place to sit down and not be bothered.

I chose my favorite bench. This bench was dedicated to my grandfather on Dad's side, Carl Martin. It was set right next to the pond, but in front of a tree, so it was constantly covered in leaves and sap. Most people hated even the thought of sitting on such a "dirty bench" but for some reason, I really didn't care if my jeans got a little sap on them. I know Cody is usually the one to get scared by this type of thing, but when I sit in this bench, I feel a strange connection to my grandfather. He died when I was five, so I didn't really know him that well, but when I sit in his bench I can sense his spirit. Don't ask me how; I just can. Sometimes I'm even convinced that I see him. When I'm in a situation that I feel scared, which is not often, I can feel him watching and I always know that I'll get through it somehow.

That was why I chose to run to my grandfather at this very moment. I was so mad; so confused; so sad; so scared. I didn't know what do or say. In these situations, it was usually Cody who cried, but now I couldn't help myself. I put my head in my hands and watched my own tears hit the surface of the almost frozen pond. No one was watching me, but I didn't even care if someone happened to glance over at me. Well, I regretted thinking this when someone gently touched my shoulder.

I looked up to see a man who looked so old and white that he was almost transparent. He looked remarkably like Dad; having the same shaped face and the same color…then I looked closer. His eyes had no color! They were the same milky white color as his hair, his body, and now that I looked closer, his overcoat.

I blinked; not exactly believing, nor wanting to believe what was in front of my eyes. I looked away from the opaque man into the water and had to muffle my scream. There was the tree, dropping leaves and sap onto the frosty ground, my own tear-stained, petrified face, and passersby, all hugging their coats close as the November wind tried to pry them off. But there was something missing. Where the old man's reflection should have been, there was a swirl of white mist moving with the water's motion.

My blood turned to ice as goose bumps formed all over my shaking body. I wanted to scream, but not draw too much attention to myself. I looked around for signs of comfort and soothing, but none came from the apparently oblivious passersby. Then the old man spoke in a voice that sounded almost as old and delicate as he was, "Z-z-z-Zack," he said shakily. That's when I freaked out and was once again running at top speed, only now to a different destination.

I didn't even bother to look back. I could feel the old man's unblinking gaze staring me down as I ran back past the street vendors and didn't finally slow down until I was safely camouflaged with the constant flow of people. I heard the nearest church bell chime twelve times; answering my question why there were so many people out on this not-so-friendly day. Although, if I were them, I would have just brought my lunch to work rather than risk getting my face blown off.

Then another thought occurred to me: 'My car was still at school.' I wonder if they would count me as skipping. But then again, knowing Mom, she would have signed us both out and explained to the secretary about this urgent situation. 'Well,' I thought aloud, 'I might as well go to school and get my car seeing as it will get towed if I just leave it there all night.' And with that thought, I stepped out of the flow of people and headed for school.