Chapter 1: The Predator

I live on a hill, well hill adjacent. The earth feels flat beneath my feet and the house doesn't slant but the road leading up the hill suggests otherwise. Like everything in my life, this house is off-balance. It tries to convince me that it's not, that everything is in place, but I know the truth. It is slanted, crooked, uneven-much like my mind, my heart and everything else in between. The walls on the inside of the house are white, almost deathly pale in contrast to the brown carpeted floor. I'm trapped in the living room, forced to sit on a red leather couch and forced to watch animals in the wild on an old, black Panasonic T.V. The predator is chasing its prey, desperate to sink its teeth into the poor creature's neck.

I close my eyes and exhale slowly, wishing I could go to my room. I'm safe in my room, I can be me in my room. But no, my very own predator is forcing me to sit next to him and enjoy a program that makes me want to hurl. How did I get here? Why am I here? I turn my head and look at my predator, he greets me with a crooked smile and dark ruby eyes. His wild curly brown hair and bushy beard suggests he cares little about his appearance. He's wearing a red flannel shirt and dark blue jeans that are ripped at the knees. He has black steel-toed boots on his feet, and they are caked in blood around the edges.

He is a killer and he wants me to know that, he shows it to me in small ways. He's determined to drill it into my head that I am his prey and he holds all the cards. I look away. I can't stare into those deadly red eyes any more than I can accept that this is my life. But it is and I must get used to it, I must accept that my life will always be off balance. "Are you hungry?" The deep boom of his voice makes me twitch and I laugh nervously, shaking my head and blinking rapidly as if that will transport me back to a simpler time. The couch dips and I can tell he's shifting closer to me, eager to touch me and I quickly stand up. I twist my body and my white nightgown flutters around my legs as I face him. "What's wrong? Too soon? I'm sorry, I just wanted to..."

"Take my pain away, I know. But if you do that, I'll have nothing left." My voice sounds hollow in my ears, emptier than the hole in the backyard that he'd promised to fill-with a body or two. My predator frowns at me and nods in understanding, as if he really understands me and he turns his gaze back to the t.v. I take this opportunity to walk away, back to the safety of my room. Once inside I'm greeted by another set of white walls, a window with bars just above a mahogany desk that's a few feet away from a twin-sized bed that's unmade. My bed. I close the door behind me and slide down to the ground, letting my back press against the door as a wheeze escape me.

I run my hands through my short black hair and struggle to breathe, my eyes screwed shut as I try to will away the memory of what almost happened just a few minutes ago. It takes a while to regain my composure but eventually I manage to breathe normally, and the violent shaking of my body stops. Slowly I open my eyes and the room around me has changed, the walls are suddenly a mural of the galaxy-stars and planets litter all four walls and the ceiling holds the large, bright sun. I am laughing and crying now, clapping my hands because a miracle is happening, and I have no idea why.

I feel free. I am free.

And then he knocks on the door. Shit.

The miracle is over, the murals of space start to bleed and drip down to the carpet. It is over simply because the predator, my predator has knocked on the door. I wipe my tears away and sigh heavily, the flood of pain is returning, and the knocking is growing louder in my ears. I stand up and yank the door open, glaring at the intruder. As I stare into his red eyes, I can see concern, anger and something inexplicable. Something soft takes over his sun-kissed face and I shudder at the thought of what it could be. I instinctively take a step back as the predator stalks into my room and plants himself on my bed. He sifts through the grey silk sheets as if he's searching for a sharp object or drugs.

As if I can get away with obtaining either things with him hovering over me and reminding me that he is deadly. "This is my room. You said you wouldn't come in here! You're a liar. You lied! You-" He's in my face in an instant, his hand cupping my face with his thumb digging into my cheek to shut me up. He's breathing deeply, low growls rumbling up his throat as he stares into my frightened brown eyes. The silence is crushing my soul, my brain feels like it's a second away from imploding and my heart has yet to cease banging against my rib cage.

The eerie creaking of the front door opening destroys the spell between us, and he releases me. I sink to the floor and gasp for air, when I look up, he's gone. It's as if he never existed and for some reason that terrifies me more than the loss of my own life. Another voice fills the air as my predator greets whoever is at the door. This voice is airy but masculine, a warm voice that ignites hope within my bones. I squash it quickly with the reminder that my predator is with this voice. "She's not eating, she doesn't want me taking her pain and she's crazy! If you think you can do any better, be my guest Kenny."

Kenny? No, no names. No! I cover my ears and try to will it away but it's in there, wrapping itself around my mind like a warm blanket. I hear footsteps approaching and I am paralyzed with the fear that relief is coming, the good cop is coming, and he might put me out of my misery.

But that's not what I want.