To Be...

Chapter 21

After a few moments of contemplating, I stood. The basement was dimly lit, and had only a sofa, two wooden chairs and a stack of soggy newspapers. The rest was dirt, concrete, and spider's homes. I travelled to the chair J.T. had been sitting in. Under it rested the newspaper for today.

I flipped through the ordinary news, and flipped the paper over. A small section had been torn from the bottom left corner.

Damaged?

I became immediately suspicious. What had been there before?

I struggled to disassemble the water damaged newspaper stack. The first was illegible. The second said:

'Dover-Foxcroft Weekly Forecast'

I pitched them aside and darted for the door. Locked. I dashed to the storm doors that we had entered through. Securely fastened. I bashed my fist against it a few good times, hoping that by some odd miracle someone would hear. No luck. My luck had been spent.

J.T. left without me. He had lied about the weather. Lied about the plans. I would never have my chance at revenge. That's all I wanted, was for them to become as miserable as possible, like me.

But if that's true, why do you have to be there? They will be miserable with or without you there to implement the punishment. So why?

So I can see it for myself. So I can make sure that J.T. gets the job done.

We both know that isn't true. If you can't be truthful to yourself then why do you have the right to be angry with them at all?

They killed Aaron! And Emily!

You killed Palmer. And Leon's dad is dead. But you already know that. You also know the real reason you want to be there.

No, I don't!

Because you know you could stop J.T., and that they really do care about you.

Lies!

You want to be there for them to convince you that you're wrong.

No!

Just admit it, and go! Get us out of here. You'll find out when you get there. You'll see for yourself.

I hated this schizophrenic feeling. I argued with myself, and my other half always knew best. I even sounded childish inside my head, to myself.

I searched the room for a secret passageway- some exit not obvious to the eye.

Nothing.

I strolled to the couch, as if it would run knowing what I was planning. I tore off the cushions to reveal a fold out bed. The mattress has dirt and mold stains skidding immorally about. I unfolded the frame , and pushed the mattress aside with my feet. I tugged at a spring until it was released.

I jumped back towards the storm doors. I pressed one end of the coil through the crack, until it was through and wrapped around the wooden latch. The coil broke into halves and fell to the ground outside. Where I longed to be. I tried twice more before I changed techniques.

I gripped one edge of the frame, and kicked at the other. It took a few minutes, but it eventually caved due to pressure and rust.

I ran to the other door, and frantically beat the door knob. It easily thudded against the floor and I kicked the door out. I dashed out of the front door, where a passing car had slowed to read the realtor's number.

"Hey!" I shouted, desperate.

Their fists clenched against the steering wheel, and they stomped the gas. I chased after, but slowed when I knew for sure there was no chance. I couldn't stop, so I started again. I had no time for human weakness. If I became tired I pushed harder. My chest burst with flames and twisting aches. My legs became flimsy, and tingled with numbness. The numb helped to dash quicker, without feeling it in my legs.