GUN IN MY HAND

CHAPTER 58: SHIVER OF POWER

'Blood on my hands, what's done is done

Left you by the road with the crows in the dust

Heart so hollow deep as a cave

One day I'll be dancing on your grave'

No, it wasn't possible. I was dreaming, one of those nightmares that always woke me up in drenched sheets with sourness rising up my stomach.

Yet even if I could taste the bile in the back of my throat, I wasn't waking up, and I pinched the back of my hand until drawing blood for the same dark eyes to still be staring back at me, a dark almost black, impossible to read but emanating nothing good.

It wasn't Kenneth's eyes; it wasn't Mr. Thornton Senior's. It was Douglas's eyes, the bulb of his nose, his hidden smile, and even that light arch of his eyebrow.

"Attention, team!"

I was pulled out of my stupor by a voice that confirmed I wasn't dreaming, or else, I would have woken up at the nails-on-a-chalkboard sound of Diane's cheers.

"Today is our last performance all together. So you better give your 1,000% and focus."

I could barely listen to what she was saying, as my gaze and each of my nerves were always flickering back to that gaze hovering like the dark clouds were announcing a coming storm.

"And even more since our school is honoring the late Douglas. That's why I also decided, with the mayor and the principal's approvals, that we will perform in front of his picture, so he can be here with us."

What a sweet and delicate touch. Diane had turned the only thing I was looking forward to into a nightmare, and now, I had nothing to distract myself from the reality, as even the graduation ceremony next week would have a bitter-sweet taste.

However, for once, Diane looked genuine, not hint of her usual barbs or disdainful twitches of the lips as she was too busy smiling proudly at the picture – a 10x10 feet picture, larger-than-life, and the gloomy clouds racing behind were making it even more imposing. The Thorntons would surely be touched, and it was easy to guess it was all funded by the mayor, since it would be a subtle reminder of his electoral presence, as my dad would say.

But for me, the reminder was more sinister. It seemed I would never forget with the statue that would be raised in his honor, the constant news – even some national, thanks to my dad's excellent work – the daily gossips, the police interrogations... I was cornered on every side.

"Let's grab our pompoms!"

Someone pulled me by the arms to the side of the bleachers, where all our gear was laying, and the few steps we took down the players' tunnel allowed us to see the crowd waiting for us. Yet in spite of all those eyes, I could only feel those two gigantic circles of blackness.

"Are you okay?" Two blue eyes appeared in front of me, contrasting with Douglas's by their three dimensions but also by the emotion they were emanating: worry. It had even overtaken the nervousness in Rachel's eyes, and it was saying a lot about my appearance as I tried a confident nod, re-adjusting my outfit.

Yet the fabric was always too tight on my chest, too short on my legs, too thick on my cold skin, and no matter how I was moving, I couldn't get rid of those goosebumps, of those eyes on me. Were they following me?

I stepped to the left, to the right, and turned away, yet their sardonic glint was always moving with me to land in freezing shivers down my guts, and the more I looked, the more I was paralyzed.