Last Chance

Chapter 8: Nightmares Continued

My parents rise from the ground, their fingers groping at the dirt as they try to find me. Their ghostly cries call out from the forest surrounding us, and in the midst of the chaos, Mariah stands over my still body in gloating triumph.

I'm covered in blood as I stare up at her and the knife. She smiles down at me, and her eyes are deep pools of blackness. Shivers run through me, and I slam my eyes closed. I can't watch as she stabs the knife downward towards my heart.

I wake with a gasp. Tears are trekking their way down my cheeks, and a few of the boys in my dorm are awake, standing over my bed and staring at me with curious expressions. A few of the older ones just look annoyed with me.

"Dude, quit the screaming. You're waking everyone up." One of them points at me. "No one needs that here."

I glare at him, wiping away the tears even though they've already seen them. "You know what, you can all just go die in a hole somewhere."

One guy balls his fists and gets up in my face. "Are you kidding me? Understand this, new kid; you don't get to act that way around here. We stick together, but only if everyone cooperates. If you can't cooperate, we can and will make your life miserable."

I stare at him with narrowed eyes. "Then go ahead and try. I'm pretty sure you can't get worse than a living hell, and I'm already there."

His nostrils flare, but an older boy steps in and pulls him back. The newcomer stares down at me placidly. His gaze slowly measures me up and dismisses me. "Are you looking to get beat up, kid?"

I snort. "Yup. Because every kid wants to get beat up. I bet you do too."

He gives me a disbelieving look, brushing his blond hair out of his eyes. "Are you serious?"

I shrug. "Perfectly. Would I say it if I wasn't?"

The other kids look on over the bigger guy's shoulder. Their eyes are wide, and one kid shakes his head at me, trying to tell me not to do it. Another yanks his finger across his throat and points at me. So apparently this guy is the head honcho. You don't mess with him unless you want trouble.

Which is exactly what I want. They all asked for it when the first guy acted like I could just shut off the nightmares for their convenience. It isn't my fault that some psycho decided to murder my parents. That usually messes people up. PTSD is a fairly normal side effect of watching some demented creep kill your parents.

The guy from before shoves aside the first boy to kneel down next to my bed. I stare at him, trying to decide what it will take to push him over the edge. Despite his previous outburst, I don't think he's naturally violent. He was just protecting the way of life that these boys have established. In a way, he's right about sticking together and cooperating with each other. If I was planning to make friends and stick around, I would listen to his advice.

"You want to be beat up?" He frowns, confusion lighting his grey eyes.

"I deserve it, right?" I laugh bitterly. "I'm a sorry excuse for a human being for waking all of you up. So yeah..." With a grim smile, I add, "If you can, coward."

"Hey... Calm down, dude. I didn't do anything to you, and you don't know me. Don't judge," the boy mutters, his eyes narrowing.

I can tell it's hitting a sore spot. Probably has to do with his past. Taking the chance, I decide to try pressing a few other buttons. "Your parents probably abandoned you because they saw how ugly and weak you are. They couldn't stand looking at you." I don't really mean it. He's not ugly. Or weak, for that matter. But the tears sparkling in his eyes and the taut muscles in his shoulders tell me that I've finally found the right nerve. "How does it feel knowing that your own parents didn't want you? Huh?"