Chapter Seven
~ Death the Kid ~
Jason walker played throughout the earphones that hung from my ears. He's voice devouring the sound of my skateboard pressing against the ground, and creating a presence of warmth inside my chest.
The Saturday morning was dull and cold. My hair was snatched by the winds grasp as I skated through the deserted streets of Death City, like the silence was what boosted this worlds monstrous confidence.
Bruises stained my knuckles, purple blemishes stinging at my bones with every fraction of movement. But no matter how much it hurt, every ounce of pain - was completely worth it.
I had walked her off the bus the day before. Walked with her to her house, whilst watching her like she could crumble at any moment, ready to pick up the pieces.
Neither of us spoke a single word. We walked in silence, and silence only. But with every step I took, I could feel the faint beating of her trembling heart.
I continued down the street, feeling the same monstrous wind try to grasp at my body. And the eagerness of it, tried to consume me.
"There he is."
I leaned all of my weight on my back foot, forcing the board to tip and brake against the concrete.
Liz glared towards me, hands held firmly on her hips. "You should have left her there to rot."
Patty snickered, her petty laughs lingering longer than they should have.
"Black*star's nose is broken because of her!"
"Her?" I questioned, placing the tip of my board beneath my palm. "Last time I checked, his nose was cracking beneath my fist."
She flicked her hair over her shoulder. "Well, it's still her fault."
"Tell me why exactly."
Her eyes widened, her ruby lips parted and her grip on her hips fell ever so slightly. It was easy to see she was out of ways to defend him.
She shrugged her shoulders. "Because she's a bitch."
I raised an eyebrow. "Compared to you?"
The girl beside her gasped, hesitating as she placed her brightly painted fingers to her lips, watching carefully between both Liz and myself.
"I'm gonna pretend you didn't just say that." Her hands were shaking. "You know what will happen."
I snickered. "What, you think Black*star's gonna hurt me?"
Her mouth shut quickly, powerless with nothing left to say.
"Because, I beat the crap out of him - remember?" I placed my board back on the ground. "Or do I have to jog your memory?"
She gritted her teeth. "What's so bloody special about her, Kid?"
The soles of my DC's scraped against the surface of my board, my weight pressurising the wheels against the concrete.
"Nothing," I smiled.
She looked confused.
"That's what makes her special."
I kicked off the curb, and watched as everything zoomed by in slow motion.
~ Maka ~
The spines of CD cases felt precious beneath my fingertips. Cold, with a shiver of delight with every detail scratched on the CD inside.
Music surrounded me, in cases and bleeding from the speakers nailed in the walls around me. The sound of heaven brushing at my ears as Biffy Clyro filled the room around me.
Every few minutes, the song would be interrupted by the sound of the bell chiming, signalling that someone had entered or left the store. But every time I heard it, my knees trembled violently.
I quickly spotted Green Day - American Idiot on the opposite shelf. And before I could hesitate, I was already reaching out to grasp it in my possession.
But before I was able to brush the case's surface, another hand had already beaten me to it. And as they promptly removed it from the shelf, the space where it rested was left deserted.
My fingers quickly tucked themselves into my palms, shielding themselves from the rest of the world around me, cueing for me to make my exit and start my journey home.
The bell rang again and voices grew louder the second they stepped inside the store.
I tried my hardest to not acknowledge their existence, but as I recognised them from school, I found it extremely hard to find the courage to walk past them.
"Black*star's pretty bust up then?" One boy questioned.
"Yeah," I recognised the seconds voice. "Kid messed him up big time."
As I saw them walk in my direction, I quickly ducked behind the shelves, hesitating to grab my bag as I tried to sneak my way into the next aisle.
It was one of the boys from the day before. Not Black*star, but the one who was with him, Ox or something?
I peered at him between the CD cases, every detail of his appearance seeming to be scarier then than it did the day before.
"Do you reckon he could've killed him?" The first boy asked.
Ox picked up a CD. "He's a crazy freak, wouldn't surprise me if he did."
The steel shelves were cold against my fingertips as I gripped hold of them in order to remain my balance as my legs trembled, watching as they looked in my direction.
The bell rang again, footsteps swallowing the rest of their conversation and devouring the music around me as they echoed from the end of the aisle.
"That Maka bitch got what was coming to her." Ox continued, "she's a nobody."
What.
For just a fraction of a second, everything felt slow. Like everything was gradually pulling itself away from me, and we were growing at different speeds.
"Isn't that her?" I heard one ask.
I stood there, slowly standing back up again as they wondered round from the other side of the aisle.
Everything felt numb, like a reflex to prepare myself for every ounce of pain that would spawn in the depths of my body. I just couldn't find the will to shield myself.
"Shit!" Ox exclaimed.
They stopped walking towards me, frozen a few feet, but yet a punched reach away.
But no matter how long I waited, that exact punch never dared to stain my body.
"Quick," Ox turned back down the aisle. "Before he sees us."
Within seconds, they were gone. They had left and left my body free of wounds and bruises. And as I stood there, painless, I felt something I hadn't felt properly for such a long time.
I felt some form of - relief.
CD cases clacked from behind me, the sound of cases being pulled off of shelves, and then placed back on. The beautiful sound of plastic clashing with metal.
There he stood. The black haired, golden eyed boy stood behind me, gazing over cases and placing them back on the shelf in front of him.
He wore a long black and blue chequered shirt, that overhung a normal white t-shirt, which quite clearly defied his abs, whether he was flexing or not.
On his back hung a low black backpack, holding his black and red skateboard as the wheels hooked over the straps. The metal scraping at the waistline of his black skinny jeans.
In his hand he held Paramore - Riot! And his beautiful golden eyes scanned the song titles printed on the back.
It wasn't until he caught my gaze that I realised I had been staring at him longer than I should have, and I wondered if it was too late to quickly leave the store without making any form of contact.
He smiled, "hey."
I averted my eyes and raised my eyebrows. Showing my acknowledgement of his existence without wasting a breath.
He continued, "you okay?"
"Yeah," I nodded. "You?"
"Yeah," he waved the case in front of my face. "Just picking up a CD."
If it wasn't for the overhead music and the occasional chime of the bell, we would have been consumed into awkwardness as well as silence. But as long as there was another sound, other than my thundering heartbeat - I was okay.
He stood there, watching me. The same way he watched me when in pain against the ground, blood gushing from my open wounds and staining the grass I ripped up in excruciation.
Standing this close caused my heart to race. As if it were excitement from standing this close to someone who had never doubted my existence.
That thought alone - made me feel like the most alive girl in the world.
His eyes were watching me, in a way that I thought no longer existed. He stared at me like for once in my life, I was actually needed. But I had to tell myself it wasn't real.
I looked away from him. "Uh, see ya."
"Wait!" He grabbed my wrist before I had time to turn away. "Don't go."
My wrist burned with the warmth of his palm pressed against my flesh. The presence of his skin against my own forcing the flutter of dust covered butterflies to burst inside me.
I gasped as I felt it control me, as I felt it enlighten every dark corner that had ever been created and would ever possibly exist.
He quickly pulled his hand back. "I'm sorry."
I missed his touch.
"It's fine," I placed my hands in my pocket. "It didn't hurt."
His eyes found mine again, the glimmer of his golden irises defying every existence of beauty. Everything he was and stood for in that moment, that was all that mattered now.
Then his eyebrows were suddenly drawn closer as he stared worryingly at my cheek. His lower lip dropping with concern.
"That bruise," he pointed towards my left cheek. "Did that happen yesterday?"
Slowly, I raised my hand to place the tips of my fingers against my cheek, feeling the fresh stinging pain as it throbbed at the presence of my hand.
I stammered, "I... I don't know."
~ Death the Kid ~
She looked broken. Broken but not shattered. Broken but not consumed. Broken but still beautiful. So, so beautiful.
"I probably fell," she smiled. "I'm clumsy."
With every second I remained staring at her, it was like she was struggling with every endless second that tried to break her. Tired of staying strong for as long as she could possibly remember.
The song above us changed. Coming in quiet at first but as soon the vocalist bloomed within the room, the girl in front of me smiled - wider than any and every ocean.
"Daughtry," I smiled. "Waiting for superman."
She nodded, "yeah."
She lifted up her head, letting the blonde strands of her hair slip from her face and fall behind her shoulders, displaying her appearance more than the first time I had met her.
Her smile enlightened everything about her, every last speck of detail that was either stained upon her or destined to be with her. The redness of her lips staining my memory like blood stains my veins. I needed that memory.
Words couldn't describe her. She was something, but at the same time - she wasn't anything. She was just too beautifully powerful for words to describe, just so, so beautiful.
"Emo!" Two kids jumped up behind her.
They grabbed her hood and forced it over her head.
"Hey!" I pulled her to me. "Leave her alone."
Black*star's younger brother snickered in front of us, his friend joining in with the mocking laughter.
He smirked, "what ya gonna do?"
"Did you really just ask that?" I raised an eyebrow. "I take it you haven't taken a good look at your brother then?"
The boy's jaw dropped. His friend quickly taking a step away from the both of us, almost knocking down a CD rack as he did so.
"That..." he stammered. "That was you?"
I glared towards him. "Now you wanna ask what I'll do?"
"Shit," his friend exclaimed. "Let's go."
"No," he protested.
Maka had pulled herself from my arms, gripping tightly at her bag as she stood nervous beside me.
"You're gonna regret what you did to my brother," he stepped towards me. "I swear to god."
I laughed. "Is that a threat? You're like, twelve."
His friend began to panic, "seriously, let's go."
"Shut up," he ordered.
Maka stepped back, trying to escape the situation, her eyes growing tired as if they struggled to keep themselves open, like she were on the verge of extinction.
My fists clenched themselves into fists at my sides. "I suggest you apologise to her, right now."
"No," she whispered. "It's okay."
I turned to face her. "What?"
"Yeah, listen to your freak of a friend," he snickered. "Surprisingly she has more sense than you do."
It was controlling me. "Listen you lit-"
The chime of the store bell echoed loudly throughout the room, overpowering the music that blared above us and the sound of my uncontrollable rage.
The girl behind me, was there no more.