The World Below [DNF]

Chapter 13: The park

George POV

They arrived home at last. The brutal situation combined with the revelations from his dad still hadn't sunken in yet.

Everything broke when George stepped inside the still unfamiliar house. He made his way up to his bedroom as fast as he could. The room held no form of comfort yet, and therefore didn't help to calm him down in any way. He could feel how his pulse was racing, his breathing didn't seem to reach his lungs, and the walls were closing around him. He was pacing around the room before deciding that he couldn't stand being there any longer.

George rushed down the stairs, he looked around to see if he could spot his dad, but the house was as dead as ever. To calm his mind, he sprinted out of the house. It hit him that he now lived in a totally different part of the world and he realized that he'd no idea where to go.

He suddenly missed England, he missed the backyard he could escape to, he even missed the stupid abandoned garage.

After some searching, he saw a distant park and decided that it was as close as he could get to the sense of security.

The park was completely empty and he felt how his breathing calmed down. He saw a big tree and to try and redirect his focus, George unhooked his ring dagger that was strapped to his right ankle. The dark blade with the leather handle felt comforting in his hand. He approached the tree, positioned his feet. His left hand was his dominant one, so he placed his right foot in front of his left one to secure his stance and balance.

George closed his eyes, forced himself to breath in through his nose and out of his mouth. He opened his eyes, set focus on a point at the tree. The trick was to let go of the knife when your arm was as straight of an angle as possible. The knife left his hand and landed horizontally in the tree.

Satisfaction filled his mind as the result matched his intentions. Grabbing the knife again and continued the same act over and over made George's nerves calm down.

He was fully concentrated on what he was doing and didn't notice the presences of another person observing his knife show.

"Even though I hate knives, I'd have to admit, that's impressive." A familiar voice spoke. George quickly turned around and grabbed the throwing knife in a way that he thought would give him some sort of protection, despite the knife's lack of sharpness. He was met with an amused look from his blonde classmate who was sat at a bench behind him. After realizing who it was, George relaxed a bit in his stance, although not completely.

"Have you been following me?" The green-eyed boy gave him a slight chuckle.

"No, mister paranoid, I haven't. I live in this area as well, you know."

George sighed and gave Clay a small, tired smile. "You scared the living hell out of me, mate."

Clay laughed. "I'll take that as a compliment, I never thought I'd be able to sneak up on the guy who carries knives everywhere he goes."

George decided to take a seat beside him on the bench. The blonde was the first to speak. "So, what are you doing here? Besides the obvious."

He dabbled with his answer for a second. The guy next to him felt trustworthy. They had only known each other for less than a day and despite the fact that George first had pinned Clay as your typical American high school jock, his opinion had changed after the skatepark fight. But he made the decision to tell a half-truth.

"Stressful day, needed to clear my head." Clay only nodded in agreement. "What about you?"

The blonde chocked his head up, seemingly examining the dark sky. "Well, you know that I said that my parents are divorced and that my dad still lives in Florida" George nodded.