Torn from Heaven: Sophomore Sons

Chapter 11

Kit walked down to the office to find a strong, pretty boy sitting in a chair, looking worried. He seemed to look familiar to Kit.

"What are you looking at?" he asked angrily and Kit shrugged.

"Clearly someone who did or said something they shouldn't have," Kit said and he squinted at her. A short man with a beard stuck his head out of a back room and motioned the boy towards him.

"I'll get to you later, bitch," he said, getting up from the chair and walked into the back room. Kit sat in the office for about 10 minutes until someone recognized that Mr. Yang was a total fool and sent her to her next class.

The rest of the day was pretty normal; a quiz, a test, the usual bullshit Math problems. Kit also had to stay after school for Yang because she 'took up valuable class time.' By the time that he let her out, it was almost 4:00 and Kit could go home. She walked out of the front of the school and took note that she had to get home soon or she'd be walking in the dark. Kit looked up at the building and saw Shawn looking at her through a window on the second floor, almost menacingly. Kit ignored him and started walking down the baron street towards her house. She saw a boy walking up the street followed by a group of five other boys. Kit tried to ignore them but the leader walked up to her and she saw it was the boy she saw in the office. Kit shivered as the wind picked up.

"I know you. You're that freak who hangs with those fags. I remember you from Salem, and you were a freak there, too," he poked Kit's shoulder. "How 'bout this, you go home and kill yourself. I bet no one would miss you. Not even your dead parents," he pushed Kit back, knocking her to the ground. Another boy came over to Kit and kicked her side and it stung like hell. Not just the kick to the ribs, but how he spoke about Kit's parents.

"I- I didn't," Kit said, trying to get up. One of the boys threw Kit's backpack to the ground.

"You're mother was a dirty slut. My father told me all about the affair. I bet you're just like her," the leader of the group said. Kit was drowning in memories of this boy and his father. She remembered how he had pulled on her ponytails and his father would blame her for it. His name was Morran.

Then the boy who was sitting in the office, Patrick Morran, walked over to Kit and ripped off her jacket and threw it on the ground. It was below twenty degrees outside. He pulled at her tee shirt, ripping it. Kit had slid against the pavement, her shirt riding up and her back started to bleed. Pat ripped open a tear at the hem of Kit's shirt.

"C'mon Pat, you said you weren't gonna do this, again," one of the boys said.

"I hope you like the heat, bitch, 'cause you're gonna burn in Hell," Pat threatened. Kit staggered up but Pat grabbed Kit's arm and threw her to the ground. He stood over her. It was dark outside now. The only light was a single street light, illuminating the road.

"You will know how your parents felt that night!" Pat said, menacingly. Kit stood up, holding her opposite hip. Kit pulled out the switchblade her father gave her that she kept in her jeans. Kit tried to run away towards the woods but Pat pushed her against a lamppost. Pat grabbed Kit's wrist holding the knife and twisted it, pressing the cold steel against her throat.

"You'll be sorry, bitch," Pat said, looking at Kit's ripped shirt. All of a sudden, a shadowy figure pulled Pat away from Kit and threw him on ground. The figure got on top of Pat and started beating his face into the ground. Other boys tried to get him off of Pat, but the figure just pushed them away. Kit just slid down the post and stared off, waiting for whoever that was to hurt her too. Kit pulled her knees to her chest, trying to stay warm. After the sounds of bone hitting bone had stopped and the running feet were far away, Kit was blanketed by Shawn's coat; she could smell his cologne. He threw it around Kit and he got close to Kit's face. A sigh of relief swept over her when she realized who it was. His face had red specks all over it. He put his hand on Kit's face, petting her face. There was a wet, almost sticky feeling on her face. She could feel his hands were shaky and his joints were stiff.

"He said you killed your parents. Is that true?" Shawn asked, ignoring what just happened.

Kit thought about what happened. She was only nine. Could it really have been her fault?

"I-I don't like to talk about what happened," Kit said, shaking. Shawn held Kit's hand.

"Please, you have to tell someone," Shawn pleaded. Tears burned her eyes and Kit shook her head.

"If I took you somewhere safe, would you tell me? Some place warm and dry?" Shawn asked. Kit thought about it for a minute. It wouldn't make it any better, but it would be safer. She nodded and Shawn helped her up. He held her hand and led Kit into the woods. The path felt familiar to her somehow. Shawn let go of her hand and pulled away a piece of cardboard. He grabbed Kit's hand and led her up the stairs of the treehouse. He plugged in a string of old Christmas lights that Lee stole from his attic. The warm glow was gorgeous. There were lots of comic books and magazines in the tree house. There was a bunch of cassette tapes accompanied by a cassette player. There were trophies and blank CDs and other miscellaneous things about the place. Kit looked down to see a bunch of blankets and pillows on the floor. She sat down on a cot in the corner and wrapped herself in a blanket. Shawn did the same thing and sat next to her. He watched her stare down at the floor and rub her hands together nervously. Shawn grabbed one of her hands tightly.

"Just start from the beginning," Shawn said, supportively. Kit looked up at him and she began to cry at the thought of it.

"I-I can't," she said, bowing her head. Shawn wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close.

"It's alright, Kitty, it's alright," Shawn said, rubbing her shoulder. Kit rested her head on his chest and closed her eyes. She imagined they were the only two in the world. It felt amazing to just imagine that all her fears and worries were gone, but was abruptly woken up from this dream-like experience from the pain in her side. She winced and took a more shallow breath and looked up at Shawn and their eyes locked. Shawn reached up and gently wiped away one of Kit's tears, rubbing her cheek with his thumb. Kit's lip quivered and Shawn glanced down at it and looked back into her eyes. Kit kept looking from his lips to his eyes, almost nervously. Kit closed her eyes as Shawn leaned in and lightly kissed her lips. Kit felt a heat spread across her face like a gust of wind. Shawn lovingly held her face, kissing her a little more passionately but then promptly pulled away.

"Is something the matter?" Kit asked, as if she woke up from a deep dream.

"I don't want you to get hurt," Shawn said, looking down.

"Don't sound like such a cliche, you wouldn't hurt me," Kit said.

"I didn't say I was worried about me hurting you," Shawn said eerily and Kit thought for a minute. Who or- what else could hurt her by Shawn kissing her?

"We can stay here tonight. I don't trust you alone," Shawn said and Kit tilted her head to the side.

"You don't trust me?" she asked.

"I'm- afraid of what will happen to you. I'm afraid of what you could do to yourself," he admitted and Kit blushed. Shawn stood up and laid down on the blankets that were on the floor. He opened his arm to Kit and smiled. "Come here," Shawn said and smiled. Kit smiled and walked towards Shawn. She hesitantly sat down next to him on the floor. Shawn sat up quickly and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her down with him. Kit laid her head down on his chest, giggling and Shawn rested his chin on the top of her head. They soon fell asleep in the warm glow of the treehouse.