A Bird in Flight | ✔︎

Chapter one: Circling demons

Callan

THE RUSH OF AIR IN my face, the wheels of my Harley Davidson kicking up dirt and dust, the blur of colour flying past my ears—helps me forget what I've left behind and what I will return too once the circle is complete.

I push the throttle harder ignoring the speed limit and the sane part of my mind ordering me to slow down and get my head together. Problem is that my sanity was washed away in a tidal wave of hatred, pain and fear since I first opened my eyes and shook hands with reality.

Air escapes between my clenched teeth as the memories creep up on me. Shit, no matter how fast I drive, no matter how hard I run and how good I hide, everything always catches up to me.

My dad is a grade A asshole who lives in a small town up in the hills, a good forty minute drive from where my mom and I live down by the coast. My mom booted him out the house when I was fourteen because he tried—and nearly succeeded—to kill me.

Six months later my mom made me sit down and explained that my father was my father, that he loved me and I was his son. She avoided my gaze when telling me that every weekend I was to go over to his house to spend some quality bonding time with my dad. Naturally, I exploded.

"He should be in jail!" I screamed at her, lurching to my feet and upturning the dining table in a rage. "He shouldn't be allowed to see me! You saw, Mom, you saw what he did!"

"Callan, please," she begged, tears forming in her eyes. "It will work out. I promise. His your dad, you can't just ignore him."

I ignored her, breathing heavily. "You're probably upset that he didn't kill me. You want me dead."

"Baby, don't say that!" she cried out, reaching for me. I pulled away. "You know that's not the truth."

"The truth?" My voice cracked. "The truth that Dad is an abusive, drunken asshole? That truth, Mom?"

"Cal, your father is not a bad man," she tried to reason with me; it only angered me further. That she was defending him.

"I can't believe you, Mom! You're fucking delusional! I hate you! I hate both of you!" I ran out the house, down the street, tears of rage coursing down my cheeks. I raced to the lake where my knees buckled from beneath me and I collapsed.

I thought I was finally safe the day my mother ordered him to pack his shit and leave. I thought she was finally on my side; finally sticking up for me.

I should've thought better to trust her and think she changed. To think both of my parents had changed.

While my dad should be in jail for constantly beating the shit out of me and nearly murdering me that cold winter night, he still roams free, venting all his frustrations and anger every weekend the moment I arrive on his doorstep.

Golden light spills over the horizon, lifting the veil of shadows from the nearing town just showing itself over the rolling hills. I don't slow down; I speed up. Running from the monster chasing me. Hiding from the memories branding themselves into my skull. Trees pass by in a blur and the motorcycle shudders slightly.

I'm so fixated on my thoughts I don't realise I've reached the outskirts of town. I don't notice the pedestrian crossing slicing across the road nor the girl passing through. Realising at the last second, I slam down on the brakes. The motorbike screeches to a halt, nearing throwing me over the handlebars as it skids.

"Are you crazy or just plain dumb?" the girl yells, darting out of my way and standing on the sidewalk, her hands on her hips. Three younger girls—her sisters, no doubt— stand cowering behind her, fear etched on their faces.