♥︎ polygrumps : pen and paper ♥︎

Potassium, Nickel, and Iron

The sky was a pitch black sky with stars taped along in a symbol. The way the fire snapped at the teens that laughed and giggled at stupid stories left no fear in their hearts. Orange flames lit up the smiles that would spread along the pale or tan faces. Trees surrounded the small clearing where the fire sat perfectly along the tree stump. The moon shined against the grass, and combined with the crackling fire, it was something from a movie. The oldest member of the group stood up and cleared his throat, all snapping their eyes to him.

His brown eyes beamed, almost fueling the fire as it burned brighter and busted for a short moment. He shoved the brown and blonde locks away from his eyes as his tan fingers slipped into the pockets on his jeans. His hoodie was unzipped, the strings dangling aloof. He felt the handle and clutched it tightly, making a swift movement to fiddle with it in his one hoodie pocket. The other arm stayed still by his side, making small hand motions. As if the world was slowly starting to show its fine lights, his friends Suzy, Ross, Daniel, Kevin, Barry, Jon, and Jack stared and anxiously waited on their logs to hear the story Arin had to propose.

"Riddle me this." He softly spoke, his voice almost a whisper in the wind. He cleared his throat and stared at the ground, before lifting his head back up with the sickest grin on his face. "What implement can be produced from potassium, nickel and iron?" He wanted to sheath it so bad; to see that shine along the fire and moon and stars was so desperately tugging at his nerves, but his fingers were curled around it so tightly if the world ended his fingers would still hold it.

"You were five. You had just witnessed your father brutally murdering your mother with a knife. Your brown eyes couldn't take the sight of so much red. Her hair was now dyed a deep crimson, while your father grabbed a handgun from his pocket and-without warning-shot you in your shoulder. Remember, you were five. You screamed in agony and held your wound, the hole in your body traumatizing." He smiled, looking at his friends who were all petrified of what was to come next. "You managed to crawl out of that hellhole you called 'home'. You didn't want to see the sun, but it burned your eyes and blinded you. Your father began to yell your name, but you ran. You bolted from him and when you reached your friends, you had bruises from the road along your face, missing teeth leaving your trail while you traced your tongue along the bleeding gums.

"You never really expected to have grown up 2 years later with your best friend. Your shoulder would always pain here and there, but nothing could solve your relapses. The nightmares of your father drove you to the brink of insanity. Yet you caught yourself in your friend's arms. The world had always flipped for you-good or bad. You kept smiling and kept that little head of yours high. High in the clouds until you couldn't breathe.

"But you realized it wasn't you that couldn't breathe, but your friend. Your hands were firmly clasped around the pale neck of your friend. Your best friend was suffocating underneath you. Your knuckles were as white as the pillow his head rested on. You finally heard him gag and soon give up, and you smiled. Your hands suddenly felt heavy, and while yes it was a pleasurable feeling, what about his parents?" He stopped, took in a deep breath, and blew at the flame. It dimmed a tad bit.

"Hey, Arin," Daniel started, a curl falling into his eyesight. "I know you like to be all about horror and stuff, but you need to calm yourself." Daniel met eyes with Arin and shivered at the sight.

"How about you shut up and listen?" Arin spat back, his words shooting into Daniel's skull and shot the most severe chill throughout his body. The wind could've knocked him over if he wasn't paying attention.

"You remembered your name was Arin."

Arin pulled his left sleeve down to reveal stitches on his shoulder. He moved it, one of the stitches breaking loose among the tightened ones. He softly cursed in pain and continued with his story.