Yes, I've had my fair share of glory, but you wouldn't want me to live, would you? You wouldn't want to spend the rest of your life knowing that the man who killed your mother is alive and well, just because he slipped through your fingers. No, no. That would be simply tragic. But you should know, I'm quite fond of tragedies."
Chapter 6
His eyes turned into slits and he dropped his weapon. I saw him headed towards me, more like charging towards me. But I didn't move a muscle. Didn't even twitch. I felt it when he punched me, I felt it when he squeezed my injured arm. But all I remember was that pit of despair that was now settled deeply into my stomach. I could feel tears rising to my eyes as my nose tingled. And I heard it when he ran away. Obviously, he was smart enough to not stick around. Instead, he was letting us pass, by fleeing himself. I dropped to the ground. All of my life, I had thought that no matter what I faced, no matter what I hurt, it would all pay off and I would see my parents again, especially my mother. And that in the end, we would sit next to each other, watching a beautiful sunset, and laugh about all of the things that I'd done, even things that hurt. I imagined that these things could be laughed at, because we both knew now that she was here, none of these things would ever be a problem again. And that no matter how much something hurt, I wouldn't have to heal it on my own. She would be there. So now, it finally hit me. She was dead, forever. And nothing would ever bring her back to me. I almost laughed. Well, this was ironic. This was going to be the worst pain I would experience, and she wouldn't be here. I was going to have to heal on my own. I felt something touch me, and since my vision was blurry, I had no idea what it was. My mind reeled, then came to the conclusion that this thing, it had to be that man again, now trying to finish me off too. I punched and kicked, slapped and thrashed. The thing fell away, and I had a sense that this had been far too easy. I closed my eyes in order to squeeze the tears out so that I could see clearly, and then blinked. There were low groans coming from somewhere behind me. I whirled around and stood up, finding myself glaring at Brent. I could have laughed, but laughter was out of my system at this point.
"Whoa," I said. "Look, I'm really sorry. I thought you were…"
I gulped, and Brent nodded. Then, with a low groan, he got up and brushed himself off.
"We should get going," I said. "You know, in case they find the huge mess we made and come after us. I'm not sure if I could handle another fight right now."
He just nodded, a small moan escaping his lips when he moved his arm, testing it.
"I'm not feeling so hot either," he murmured.
I gave him another glare, and turned on my heel, making sure that my arm never left it's place, securely glued against my side. If it did…ouch. But I would deal with it, because I had to. I was strong. Besides, we really needed to get going. Which brought up another question to mind. Where exactly were we going to go? Hmm. Maybe a hotel or something for now, so that no one would be able to track us. I had a feeling that as soon as that fainting Mask was conscious, along with his buddy "J", we would have some serious problems. They would definitely have identified me. Ugh. It was so frustrating when Brent was staring at me like that again. I decided to eliminate that problem first before I dealt with any other ones.
"Is there a particular reason for the way you are staring at me right now? I'm still part of the same species as you," I said, already feeling angry. He just stared at me, as if I was some kind of unexpected…surprise?!? What was going on here? Was he in, like, shock or something? I mean, I know I'm good, but not that good. And was it my imagination, or did he just smile? Oh god. That smile… I could already feel my bones and muscles melting, and turning into a big blob of liquid. And why were my cheeks suddenly feeling very rosy at the moment? Like a warm, comfy rosy feeling? Holy…wow. I never thought that I would say this, but even his teeth were hot! So hot! A tingling sort of feeling started creeping up my spine and through my arms. Which, unfortunately, brought a slight sting, reminding me that I still had a gaping wound in my arm. Which, upon looking at it, was still oozing blood. My horrified eyes stared, and then I realized the true pain in my arm. I stifled a scream then turned my clouded mind to thinking about how I could stop the blood before I lost too much, which I probably already had. The obvious choice was to use Brent's shirt. However, I wondered just how much my poor mind could actually take. I mean, could I go into a coma from hotness overload? But wait. If I get one of his sleeves, then that would be enough cloth to actually stop the bleeding. Thank god he's wearing long sleeves. Which reminded me. It was September. So cold. And bras weren't very warm. At least, not for your stomach.
"Okay, " I said, taking a deep breath. "I need you to take off your shirt. And if you make one little comment, I'll punch you harder than I punched all of those guys combined. Got it, big shot?"
He was openly laughing now, and his hair seemed to be laughing with him. I mean, it was bouncing. I really wanted to touch it. So bad. But I pushed on the door, making out for the huge tree on the other side of that weirdo street. What was it called? Oh, who cared anymore. I had to get Brent and his laughing hair out of here before anything else happened. Besides, we never knew if the Mask would be able to find us or not in just a few, short seconds. I decided that my only choice was to go back to my cover-parent's house, and then figure things out from there. Besides, I could probably get a shirt, and a couple more essentials from my room. Brent reached behind him, pulling the neck of his shirt up, and taking off his shirt that way. Wow. Oh, my god. Wow. I thought guys only did that in movies. I mean, how do you do that so gracefully? I tried it once, and I got seriously tangled. His now bare, muscular chest was like a magnet. I felt this strong, strong pull to it, at least to take a closer look in order to examine it. How could something be that beautiful? Life was unfair. When I noticed that there was a slowly expanding string of drool coming out of the corner of my mouth, I had seriously had enough. I turned away, and focused my mind on some disturbing images from horror movies. It was working, except for the part where it also brought other images to mind, some equally disgusting. But they were things that I had actually lived through.