Monster Minds [completed]

Chapter 33

"I always had a desire to inflict pain on others and to have others inflict pain on me. I always seemed to enjoy everything that hurt."

- Albert Fish, was an American serial killer . He was also known as the Gray Man, the Werewolf of Wysteria, the Brooklyn Vampire, the Moon Maniac, and The Boogey Man. A child rapist and a cannibal, he boasted that he "had children in every state", and at one time stated the number was about 100. He was executed by electric chair.

Chapter 33

We drove until the sun began to rise like a blooming cherry blossom on the horizon, casting a hue of pink over the morning sky. Heart soaring with the birds that flew in between the trees, I felt as if nothing could shoot me down.

The car began to slow as Vans pulled into a small suburban park, across the road from a service station. Getting out of the car, he came to my door and opened it for me, offering his hand. My hand warmed with the interlocking of our fingers. It just seemed to me like I was destined to forever hold myself in his arms.

Taking two water bottles from the back seat, he pulled me towards a bench in the middle of the park.

"Why are we stopping? Shouldn't we continue driving?" I asked, squeezing his hand.

"We aught to stop for a moment. I am tired and need a break from driving. We will only be a moment, then we will continue." He smiled down at me and pushed his dark hair out of his eyes. Looking upon his face, I realised just how exhausted he looked. Large dark circles formed under both of his eyes, his hair was clumped together with old sweat, and the bruise on his forehead looked green and tender. I didn't doubt that I looked the same, probably worse; with makeup smudged and puffy eyes from all the tears I had cried.

My eyes ached from sleeplessness, but I was not tired. I felt wired, like I was on a constant charge, waiting for the moment that my energy would be needed.

When we reached the bench, I sat on one side, leaving plenty of room for Vans. He looked at me as I cracked open my drink bottle and stared at the empty park and quiet streets; it was far too early in the morning for anyone but fugitives from stirring from their warm and comfortable beds. I swallowed the cold water, enjoying the feeling of the cool liquid travelling down my throat and into my stomach, satisfying my thirst.

Vans slumped onto the bench and continued to stare as I drank half the bottle of water. I turned to him, one eyebrow raised, and waited for him to say what was on his mind. But instead, I was surprised when he leaned over and placed a delicate kiss on my lips and then placed his head upon my lap. He stretched his legs out over the other side of the bench and fidgeted until he found the squishy part of my thigh.

"Wake me up when you see someone coming." He mumbled, but he barley finished the sentence before he fell into a light sleep. I sighed and sunk my fingers into his thick hair, stroking his head to the rise and fall of his chest. It didn't matter much if someone did see us; he had changed out of his prison clothes in the car into some of my fathers old clothes, I had changed, and I had tied my hair back slick so it would look more brown than blonde. On top of that, we had passed not a single police car on our drive and the radio updated us constantly on their position. They were driving the opposite direction to us, pursuing a couple that had been spotted with a likeness to us in a café.

The sparrows chirped softly in the trees above me, the leaves brushed against each other, creating the language of the morning. Like the wings of the birds, my eyes fluttered shut.

Time passed and the sun rose a little more. Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the trees, piercing my eyes and waking me from my slumber. There was no longer a weight upon my legs, Vans was gone. I had forgotten to keep watch for people and had stupidly fallen asleep; I began to panic, thinking we were doomed. I jerked myself awake and rose from the bench in a frenzy. But before I could stand, I was thrown back onto the bench, my arm screaming as my shoulder tore from its socket.