Bound
Unleashed Series
Book I
Lee Taylor
Firefly & Wisp Publishing
2011
Smashwords Edition
Copyright© Lee Taylor 2011
Published by Firefly & Wisp Publishing
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or use of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the permission of Firefly and Wisp Publishing, www.fireflyandwisp.com
First Firefly & Wisp Publishing Printing 2011
All the characters in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is purely coincidental. All work is from the imagination of the author.
Paperback ISBN: 978-0-9827062-1-3
A record of the Library of Congress serial number can be acquired from the publisher.
Manufactured in the United States of America
Acknowledgements
First and foremost, I would not have been able to write Bound if not for my wife; the woman told me to write, she critiqued me, she scolded me, and she is always near if I want to argue about a potential plot. Katie, I adore you. To my friends and family who have shown me nothing but support. Bobby for your no-BS approach and your amazing people skills… Dave, I know I can work in a line about a whispering ferret somewhere. Rob S, your sheer, academic prowess helped me more than you know. Matt and Mark for your continued support; not to forget my Publishing Angel, Danielle. Without them, this story may never have been told, and for anyone else that I have missed, I totally <3 you.
Dedication
In memory of my good friends Luke and Joe, Luke who listened to me prattle on for hours about ideas and monsters, and Joe, who tolerated my sense of humour and spontaneity. Without them, Ursine may never have turned up. I am humbled to have known both of you.
Chapter 1
A lot can happen over the span of a couple of months. Before I regale you with all the details, let’s start from the beginning. It was the last class on the last day of the school semester, coming to the end of what was the biggest heat-wave in two decades. I was in a small, sweaty, dark room and could hear some of the other kids outside in Gym class laughing and screaming while they chased each other around in the sun, drenching each other with bottles of water. It was making me more restless than a kid with a sugar rush sitting in a dentist’s chair.
Well anyway, I was stuck in my “awesome” English class; we were watching a movie based on a play by a decidedly odd-looking guy with a bald spot and a goatee who had written this play like five-hundred years ago. I resorted to pulling my hair out, just to count the strands out of boredom. So far, I was on twelve, and my head was freaking hurting.
The classroom I sat in was bland enough, the only source of light was from the television's glare by the white board; it illuminated some of the assignments and inspirational posters that were dotted around the room on the walls. Flashes from the T.V. revealed to me glimpses of my classmate’s blank expressions; I could tell they were as “enthralled” as I was.
Now, I may not have all the book smarts, but I know for a fact that if you’re going to be sat in a double helping of English after lunch, and you’re going to be watching a sad movie, then at least if you sit in the back you can get away with more. I was closest to the windows and as comfortable as I could be in the sweltering heat.
I was pretty darn content with going to sleep where I sat until my pocket vibrated.
So began my tactful mission of removing my phone from my pocket unnoticed. I could see at a glance that it was a message, so faking a yawn; I stretched and looked from side to side. It didn't look like anyone else was paying any attention to me.
*Do u like me? I thnk ur hot!! Tb x* Okay, this message was somewhat childish; it was, for all intents, the same as passing a note. But, with the convenience of technology nowadays, it’s a direct text opposed to a string of giggly children.
Back to my point, someone in my class thought that I was “hot”. I couldn’t quell the warm feeling from spreading through me as it pooled into my stomach; the mischievous grin was replaced with a smug one as a cacophony of butterflies fluttered around in my abdomen.
Setting my phone down, I tried to casually peruse my class. My aim was to see if any of the girls I knew were on their phone messaging me. I know it was a long shot, but hey, I was feeling lucky.
With my masterful skills of deduction, I glanced at a few of the girls who I occasionally hung out with; I then thought of those who had seemed nicer to me recently. I could only really think of one; Kimberly. From where I sat, I could see that she was leaning over her desk; maybe she was trying to hide her phone. Yeah, that was one potential clue. Oh, by the way, I call her a bungalow sometimes, as she can be a little ditzy. She totally plays up to it claiming she has nothing going on upstairs (like a bungalow). Kimberly was, for all intents and purposes, gorgeous; she had the looks. With long, effluent waves of golden hair, big, warm, brown eyes, and a smile that, I am pretty sure if put to test, could charm a raging bull.
Kim and I had got on for a long time. Last week we were forced to hang out at the mall together. I say that, I actually mean her parents set us up on a play date, so to speak, and as soon as they left, she went off with some college guy. So I met up with my best friend Mike. Our parents have always tried pushing Kimberly and I together since we were kids. I think it’s because my dad owns a pharmaceutical company, and her dad is some C.O. at an insurance firm. She's all right as a friend, but I can't really see her as anything more. But by this time, I had begun convincing myself that Kim was my admirer, even though she had never seemed to like me any more than an acquaintance; there were no “Oh, Mr. Darcy” moments to speak of. I paused and flicked my phone open, punching a few numbers on the key pad. I thought it would be smarter if I replied before I forgot.
*Yeah, I like me. Lol. who is dis? Kim?*
I had a great view of Kim from where I sat; maybe I would be able to see her look over at me. I raised an eyebrow trying to look suave. In fact, I probably looked more like a creepy, heavy-mouth-breathing stalker. Still, there I sat staring at my alleged admirer. My phone's vibration again drew my attention. Eagerly, I clawed the phone open.
*Lmao, no! x*
The message stunned me.
I was sent tumbling back to earth and felt slightly stupid, well more so. I was convinced that it was her, now looking like it wasn’t, meant that I had to face some other feelings; maybe I did like her more than I thought after all... Great, another pipe dream; this time it’s because I'm too young probably. A disheartened sigh escaped me. I recomposed myself and calmly reset my position. There was a silence that rung through the class as the movie was paused and a throat was being cleared.
Aww balls! Feeling sheepish, I bashfully looked to the front of the class. Mr. Hendricks was standing defensively with his arms crossed and a bead of sweat slowly sliding down from his temple, his greying crop of hair frazzled from the humidity. He was frowning so hard that even his wrinkles had wrinkles. To be honest, he looked like a bulldog that had chewed on a lemon soaked bee. With the television remote in his hand, he nodded towards my desk. I still sat with my phone on display.
“Well, Ursine, care to share what has you so... excited?” Mr. Hendricks was normally a cool guy; it made sense that with this heat wave, he'd get all irritable and become a dick...
Crap. I sucked in a deep breath, trying to think of something to say that would let me save face. I thought that looking casual was my best option. So, slowly placing my hands on my desk, I stood up to talk and attempted to hide my phone at the same time. My plan was inspired, so, scooping it slowly off the table, I sought to hide it on my seat without drawing attention to it. Of course, I failed miserably. The freaking phone bounced off the seat and hit the floor with a loud clap. I cringed in expectation.
“I'm sorry, Mr. Hendricks. I was checking the time because, um I really needed to go to the washroom, but I didn't want to disturb the, uh, class... Hey now that the film’s stopped 'n' all; do you mind if I go... relieve myself?” I was amazed; it actually sounded plausible. With a slight snort, I scratched my head and fought back a grin.
“No, Ursine, you cannot. I swear, if you put as much effort into your work as you do trying to get out of it, you would probably have better grades.” Mr. Hendricks held out his hand gesturing for the phone. “Now give me the phone and you can come and collect it at the end of class.” With a defeated sigh, I walked around my desk, slumping my shoulders unenthusiastically. I picked my phone up off the floor and walked up to the front of the room to hand it to him.
“Now can I go to the wash room, sir?” I asked. Although I didn’t need to go, I figured that if I at least tried to make my story believable, it may make him less annoyed. I was, unfortunately, wrong; I guess I wasn’t any luckier today. Mr. Hendrick’s eyes narrowed.
“Well, Ursine, if you just looked at the time, you could clearly see that you have ten minutes left of this lesson, where afterwards, in your own time, you are free to use the bathroom when you see fit. But seeing as summer vacation is yet to start and I hardly think your kidneys are in danger of erupting, I would advise you to sit down and have the common decency to pay attention!” Mr. Hendricks all but screamed. His voice shook the room and, with the already stale air, it made me feel like an infant. I really didn’t like that sensation. So I tried my best not to flip off the teacher or throw my god damned cell phone at him.
With ten minutes to go until the class was over, I turned to look at my classmates. Well, aside from the few people giggling at me, there weren't a lot of other kids who seemed interested. There wasn’t a girl holding her phone up winking at me either. Did I mention that I freaking loved school?
Retreating to my seat, I tried not to cause a further incident. So I adopted the sit and sulk position for the remaining minutes. When the bell finally rang, I dashed across the room to collect my cell phone; no more messages. With a disgruntled sigh, I chewed on my bottom lip, slightly agitated.
“Typical,” I murmured to myself, feeling more deflated.
“Have a good summer, Mr. Hendricks, and thanks for looking after my phone,” I said hurriedly as I ran to the classroom door. I stepped into the hallway where I waited for my best friend, Mike, to catch up. There was the usual hustle and bustle of any high school letting out for summer vacation; not quite to the point where everyone was synchronising their steps and showing off their “spirit-fingers”, but everyone sure did have a better place to be. Mine was waiting for my best friend.
“Hey, man, I was like completely bummed that last lesson. That sicko, Monty, was actually trying to make us learn! All I need to know is a ten bag costs ten bucks, you know what I mean?” Mike was one of my only long-time friends. Most of the people in my school are unnerved around me; I don't really know why. Mike isn’t really fazed by much, probably because of all the dope he smokes. He claims it's because his parents made him a vegetarian early on, and so he's always grown up eating and smoking his greens. I can't stand the stuff, personally; it puts me to on edge. That can be bad... and very messy. Expensive, too! I just stood shaking my head disapprovingly at Mike; he always came out with a similar line whenever it was mathematically related.
“Hey, man, what you think of my new hoody? I traded my violin for it at lunch. It’s awesome right?” Mike asked. He was always eerily cheery, too; completely infectious to be around. I stopped to look at my jitter friend. He stood with a grey Etnies hoody, his Hawaiian-print cargo shorts showing his bony knees and sandals. He looked like a real surfer jock even with his hazel coloured faux hawk and pierced lip and eyebrow. The only thing was... He was terrified of surfboards after an accident when he was a kid. He was boogie boarding on holiday in Florida, and a surfer who wasn't paying attention rode into him on a wave and split his face open. Mike stood in the water screaming in pain, and his dad was yelling for him to hurry and get out the water before the sharks came for him. Yeah I kind of understand why he would smoke so much. If I had those sorts of memories, I would probably want some memory loss, too. I think that was why he sometimes did reckless things. Trading his violin for a hoody was only the most recent. Mike sniffed, brushing his thumb off his nose. I still hadn’t spoken; I figured I would wait until he got it out of his system.
“Hey, dude, why am I the only one talking here?” His blue eyes traversed the hallway. Slowly blinking, he looked at some of the students walking past to see if he were missing something. Scrutinizing each one as they strolled by, I could see that the strain was starting to make him dizzy.
“Sorry, I was just thinking about who sent me this freaking message. It’s really annoying me.” Mike looked at my phone as I opened the message for him to see, pinching his eyes shut, he concentrated more intently.
“Mike, even if you stare that hard at the screen, the name and number won't pop up.” I rolled my eyes taking the cell phone from his view. Helpfully, Mike scratched his head, clueless as to whom the texts could be from; a devious smile curled his lips as he thought of something else, probably unrelated, of course. I turned and gestured towards my locker, grabbing a few books and papers. Mike scurried away. Before his departure, he said that he would meet me at his car; he had to sort something out first. Clumsily, he paced on.
When I eventually got to Mike's red, Toyota compact, he was busy thumbing through his C.D.'s.
His car had a foul smell as the key part to its personality. I wasn’t just talking about its emissions; I meant it stank in general. It was like a cocktail of fast food and air freshener smothered on top of cigarette smoke that clung desperately to the car seats, making the unholy scent of grease, cheese, smoke and hints of pine forest served with sweat to fill the interior with its bodacious odour. I held my nose as I sat down; it always overpowered me at first.
“Aww, Mike, clean your car. Man, it stinks like a public bus after a sweaty-nut fest. It’s just wrong.” Wrinkling my nose, I waved my hand in front my face to emphasize my point.
“Si, you’re such a bitch! If you don't like it, why don't you get out and walk then, bro?” He chuckled at his comment. He wasn’t serious, but I was weighing the option of walking or getting a bus... The moment passed and I simply grinned in response, my eyes burned with the pungent odour.
“Sweet, I found it! Dude, you have got to listen to this. I bet you haven't heard this song, in ages.” He put in his chosen disc and skipped the first few songs, putting on the Seatbelts, Ask DNA. He turned and smiled, nodding his head in approval. Reaching behind my seat, he grabbed a soda that was a few days old. Taking a swig, he stared at the bottle with a perplexed expression; he licked his lips, shrugged and put the spoiled bottle back. The beat kicked in, and I recognized it almost instantly.
“You're right, man; it’s been years since I heard this track. What made you put this one on?” I questioned.
“I was going to tell you earlier. Last night, you know I was at that gig downtown, right. Well, I met a chick there. She was incredible, dude... Anyway, I had done my best to get her attention, you know with my running man routine...”
I interrupted him. “No way, you didn't. You know I said you look like a douche when you break out your moves,” I said pointedly. Mike chuckled and continued undeterred.
“Well, like it or not, it seemed to work. She came over, and we began to talk. Turns out, she was in the area visiting friends, and well, I offered to show her around, so I took her for a coffee afterwards. It was magical, dude. Anyway, we got chatting about our friends, and I told her about the time we took that road trip and almost ended up being in a re-enactment of deliverance. And that reminded me of this song. She kept giving me really weird looks, and I guess she's not big on man-on-man loving. That or she needed to take her contacts out. Afterwards, we said our goodbyes and that was it. She said she would be at the same club tonight if we can make it. I think she wants to set you up with one of her friends.” Mike finished, checking his rear view mirror.
“You’re like completely betrothed with a stranger; that's kind of creepy, Mike.” I scoffed, pulling my phone out of my cargo pocket; I put my window down and hung my free hand out. Not a sign of breeze. I sighed.
“Well, dude, let's go before we're sat ankle deep in ball soup,” I said while patting the dashboard. Meanwhile, Mike clipped his seatbelt in and started the ignition.
“Mike, what was the girl's name anyway?” I asked, slightly preoccupied with scrolling through my phone, idly waiting for a text.
“I think it was Cat or Kitten or Mitten or something like that. I was kind of wasted when I saw her, and the night was so awesome it was kind of a blur!” Mike said as the car coughed and spluttered to life.
Now, that was a typical-Mike move. Spend all night with someone and get to know everything about them... apart from their name.
“Well then, dude, let's get you home, so you can spruce yourself up, not to forget your hard to reach places,” Mike said. With a mischievous grin in place, he pulled out of the parking lot.
Chapter 2
Thirty minutes passed by, and we pulled up to my parent's town apartment on Bagot Street. My parents were so stupid sometimes; they made me go to high school in Sydenham; a school that was so far away it might as well of been Athens...
“So, Si, you gonna be okay for me to pick you up around what, eight p.m.? I'm going to go change my clothes, grab a bite to eat, and I'll be back. You make sure you put an effort in. I want to set an awesome first impression.” Mike bobbed on the spot with anticipation, pleased with his Terminator expression.
“You are like an uber dork sometimes, man; makes me feel normal. Thanks.” I nodded my head in appreciation. “Yeah, I should be fine and ready; my folks said they wanted to talk to me about something. I think it's about a letter that they got. Hopefully it’s not about us mooning that bus full of cheerleaders.” With a sympathetic grin, I scratched my head.
“That was a riot,” Mike started chortling. “Okay, if there are any problems let me know. Oh, and if it is about that mooning incident and there were any pictures... Try and get me one so I can put it on my Facebook.” With a wink, he revved his engine and pulled away, swerving a parked car in front as he looked forward at the last possible second.
I could hear him blast an obscenity out as he drove off. Obviously, he thought it was the parked car's fault.
Opening the door, I threw my satchel to the side, knocking down a vase in the process. I cringed. My mom was sitting in the living room. Sorry, sorry, they call it a parlour. Hey, all I know is it’s the room with the big T.V. and a lazy chair. Her greying, red hair was tied into a bun. Dressed in light cream pants and a brilliant white blouse matching the décor, she looked up at me, placed her book on the glass coffee table in front of her and let out a tired sigh.
“Ursine, I thought I told you before not to throw your bag down as it could break something!”
I rolled my eyes; she was always worrying needlessly. It’s a good thing she didn't see it knock her vase or she would have been pissed” Yeah, sorry about that, mom, it has just been another great day at school. I learnt loads; you would be so proud of me!”' I arched my eyebrows to emphasize my sincerity.
“Don't think me a fool, Ursine. Remember you get your wit from me and your loutishness from your father. Now come over here and give me a kiss.” She turned her head, pouting and pointing to her cheek. With a sigh, I walked over to her and pecked her pale, shallow cheek. I casually strolled into the kitchen and grabbed a carton of juice from the fridge, consuming it with one hearty intake.
My thirst was momentarily quenched, I called out to my mom, “Hey! Uh, Mom, do you know what dad wanted to talk to me about earlier?”
“No, hon, I'm sure he will explain when he gets home. Oh, by the way, Ursine, if you’re going to have a drink, pour it into a cup for crying out loud.” Jeez, sometimes I swear that she has x-ray vision. I sighed in defeat.
With an exasperated grunt, I put the carton back in the fridge and pivoted to hop onto the counter of the breakfast bar. Snatching an apple, I took a large bite, quickly chewing and swallowing a piece before my mom found something else to nag at me over. Satisfied with the remedy to keep a doctor away, I turned my head towards the living room again.
“Mom, I'm going to go get changed. I'm going out with Mike tonight to meet some friends; I should be back around eleven, and if I'm any later I'll let you know,” I called out as I hopped off of the counter, apple in hand. I turned to dash along the hallway and up the staircase, putting my phone on the charger in the process; there still were no other messages. I guess I should text them again. With a yawn, I clumsily kicked off my shoes and knocked my lamp over.
“Crap!” I cried as I ran over to it, falling over in the process with the clutter on my bedroom floor.
“Yeah, that's just great. Looks like it's going to be an awesome night,” I said sulkily to myself. I checked the room for the apple that I had been eating; it had vanished.
Aww, forget it! I'll just have to do a big clean-out tomorrow. Disentangling myself from the mess that gripped me, I walked over to my wardrobe and grabbed a pair of jeans and a T-shirt with the saying “I have the biggest dick in the room” on the front and “Sorry, I mean, I am...” on the back. I did have more offensive ones, but I made the mistake of letting my mom wash them. When she hung them out to dry, she kind of freaked and binned them. I thought she was going to explode! My dad, well, he didn't care much, he just said I was childish. Yeah, he's a real hands-on parent. I swear my dad is still pissed at me from when he asked me a question when I was two, and I called him a booby and giggled.
I stopped reminiscing and grabbed a cleaner pair of sneakers and checked my watch for the time; awesome. I had four hours to go, and I was pretty much ready. I would brush my teeth and hair around seven thirty, I decided. So I went downstairs to wait with my mom for my dad to get home. Boredom was already creeping in.
Wait hang on. I can keep texting my admirer! I grabbed my phone off the charger. It was still on full battery. With an impatient yawn, I trudged slowly back down the staircase and jumped onto the sofa by my mom who was back to reading her novel, Jane Eyre... again. She must read that book at least twice a year from cover to cover.
I was anxious at first, about texting my admirer.
What can I say? This annoyed me because I knew my phone was not psychic and could not hear my thoughts. Whoever was cryptically messaging me answered one question, only to make another. The message displayed said, *I will see you tonight*. I looked at it for a long time, thinking of how to respond.
Can this person really know that I am going on a random night out to see this band? Or do they think that I am going to be home when they come over? Weighing the options, I sent a reply. Not the smartest, but still.
*Who is this? I am really getting bored of playing this guess-who game.* I released a deep sigh, groaned with agitation and yawned, stretching grumpily on the sofa. Almost instantly, I got a response from both. The first was from my mom telling me to get my feet off the settee, and then my phone that vibrated and flashed as it received my newest message.
*If I told you, what exactly would be the fun in it?* With a grunt, I closed my phone and threw it on the floor, exasperated. It bounced off the cream shag carpet and landed weakly on the other side of the room, undamaged. I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to focus on who the frigging text sender could be.
Who have I seen today? And out of those... have any been staring at me even slightly different? I yawned, beginning to feel more miserable; the romantic fantasy was rapidly retreating.
The room’s ambience shifted; a cool breeze washed over me as the walls dissolved. Sitting up, I rubbed my eyes; the smell of moss and honeysuckle invaded my senses as my vision became less blurry. I could just about make out a figure as it approached. A flicker of lightning forked across the sky, bringing with it a cacophony of thunder that shook the ground where I stood. I was no longer in the living room or parlour... Instead, I was standing in a field. The sky seemed to be tinged violet; grey clouds crowded over the open air and even the ground appeared to be the same kind of sickly grey as the cumulonimbus clouds that blanketed over high above. It was as if I was standing on a plain of ash, drifts coursing in the breeze. My disjointed stare into space was broken when I heard a bestial grunt; I turned expectantly to look for the source. It was my mom, and what was even odder was the fact that she was standing there.
Her eyes looking upset and consoling, and yet she stood with a cat-like grin in place, pointing to where I had just been facing, and gesturing for me to turn. A tear crept down her cheek. So, slowly I decided to indulge her and turned. There was nothing there. I turned back, confused. In her place, a misty figure stood. An unsubstantial entity, not taking any specific form until it, at first, changed to a wolf then seemed to shed its fur and morphed into a bird, rising from the remnants scattered on the ground. It flapped its wings, slowly landing, and then it stretched out its wings, flexing its muscles and lay on the ground. Its body became absorbed into the earth.
A shadow crept from where the avian form lay, and the ground rumbled as it met with the chorus of thunder, great cracks appeared, splintering the earth as a huge Grizzly bear rose up from the deep. It clambered onto all fours, shaking out excess dirt and debris. Rising onto its hind legs, it released a roar that shook every molecule within range. I was mesmerized; watching in shock, goose-flesh cascaded down my spine. It lowered onto its front paws, slowly pacing towards me. I was too much in awe to run. When it sucked in a breath, I felt as if it stole the air out of my chest. Exhaling sharply it blew on my face; its warm, sticky breath swirled up into my nostrils. I winced, pinching my eyes shut.
It filled me with a thick feeling of dread and realization. I was about to become bear food.
I opened my eyes after what felt like a lifetime later, and the bear had vanished. The colours had returned to normal, the grass was a luscious green and the sky was a darkening blue with silver nimbus clouds, hanging like wads of cotton in the air. Standing before me was... Myself. Wait.
“What?” It was the only word I could muster after standing face to face with that bear... I looked down at my hands; I was hunched over now, my body tingling. I lifted my hand; it was covered in a thick, russet fur. I had talon like claws, the version in front of me lowered its head and began to grin. I was overcome with rage. What the hell was happening? I swiped at the air. The figure turned to dirt and collapsed onto the floor in a heap. Parts of it drifted away, ample on the breeze. Screaming in frustration, the roar that I released shocked me. My body shook, and I had to force myself to draw in a few deep breaths, the anger still bubbling away inside of me. I pinched my eyes shut and released another bone-shattering roar. I was terrified of the situation; my veins throbbed with the blood that flowed through them...
One thought permeated my thick skull. I wanted to kill. The new emotions overpowering me so much that I wanted to scream. I gritted my teeth, trying to regain composure; deep aggravated huffs were released from me in the process. A chill began to creep through me. I felt a coolness wash over me; the sky had opened and was showering me with icy rain. I looked up into the heavens, blinking away the water landing on my eyelids. My rage had stilled for the time being.
I hadn't noticed that I had changed my form once, then back again, until I cupped my head with my now human hand. Dirt of what I assumed was remaining of my fur was washed off of me in parts, courtesy of the refreshing shower. I looked at the ground, still blinking the droplets clear so that my vision became less laboured. Looking in front, I could just about make out another figure... It was the bear. Its jaws gaping and strings of saliva flicked off its fangs as its front paws kneaded the air. I couldn’t help but shudder in anticipation. I was so terrified at that moment that I was paralyzed. Its gaze held my own; the treacle that ringed his pupils seemed to pulse with malevolence, and I could feel myself sinking into them like being snared in a tar pit.
“Are you okay, Ursine? Looked like you just had one heck of a dream! You were growling and crying. I had to wake you, hon. I was worried.” With a concerned look on her face, my mom had her hand on my cheek and leaned forward to kiss my forehead. Yeah, I guess I was a bit of a momma’s boy.
“Mom?” I muttered. “I just had one of the weirdest dreams... It was... So real...” she probably thought the dream was video game induced. I was still shaken; my mom seemed to be pleased that I was awake, but she still eyed me suspiciously. I reached for my phone to check the time then remembered I had thrown it across the room. With a sigh, I lay back. That dream had done a number on me, and my breathing was laboured as a result.
“It can't be weirder than that time when you were twelve and dreamt about the line-dancing tuna and the panda on a pogo stick. I still think you should have gone to a doctor for that one, dear.” With a warm smile, my mom rose back to her feet and paced towards the kitchen.
“How long was I out?” I sat up rubbing my neck and purposely ignoring her comment. “I think I am going to go shower and change again; I’m covered in sweat,” I said as she was just out of my line of sight.
“Just over an hour, Ursine; you got a few texts, too. Just who is this secret admirer of yours?” I could tell my mom’s curiosity was peaked.
“I wish I knew... Hey, mom, what have I said to you about going through my phone?” I frowned as I could hear her smug chuckle resonate from the kitchen.
“Sorry, dear, I can't hear you. I'm in the kitchen. Can I get you a drink?” I could hear her ask as she was taking a glass out the cupboard and putting it on the side. I grunted; that dream had me feeling like shit wrapped in cling film that had been chucked onto a hot plate.
“I know I've said this already, but I'm going upstairs for a shower.” I stood up, cricking my neck, “stupid sofa,” I whined. I hopped off the couch and marched up the staircase. I discarded my clothes and hopped into the shower, I didn't even check my phone. I felt too rough and didn't fancy being pissed off for the night. Standing in the shower, the water cascaded off of my body as I reached for one of the pheromone-infused shower gels that allegedly attracted the opposite sex. The only female it ever seemed to affect was my mom and all she said was, “Ursine, you've had a shower? You smell clean!” as if implying that I normally stink. Like I said, my mom's great.
Soapy lather was building on my body. Wow! These last couple of months it looked like those sit-ups had really been doing their job. I looked ripped. I scratched my left bicep absently, the tattoo of the five pointed star was bold as ever.
How exactly did Mike talk me into getting this tattoo done? Only he knew. Standing with my head down and the water washing the suds off of me, I recalled the dream in my mind.
What documentary brought those animals into my head? I pondered, that bear was like A.A. Milne’s nightmare. A homage of what happens to fantasy bears when they don't get their honey... I snickered.
After spending minutes of remaining stationary in the shower, I finally looked at my raisin-skinned hands. I decided it was time to move on, the water had succeeded in washing the unease away. Turning the taps all the way off, I noticed how the steam was clouding the room. I was finally feeling more at ease. Drawing in a deep breath, I scuttled forward taking hold of a couple of towels. I carefully placed one on the tiled floor, laying it neatly in front of the shower. I scrunched the other in my hand and strolled over to the sink. I grunted as I faced the foggy mirror. I reached out and wiped away some of the condensation. Turning my head from side to side, it looked like I could avoid shaving at the moment. I dried off the droplets running down my back before drying the rest of my body. I was never fond of the whole flossing motion, so I opted for a more of a dabbing approach.
Wrapping the towel around my waist, I charged out of the bathroom. I forgot about the towel which I left outstretched on the bathroom floor. I slipped and slid my way to the door. My body was still tingling when I gingerly plodded into my bedroom. I had the foresight to pause and step over my game controller. I accomplished the great task of walking in my room without stubbing my toes on any of the junk laying around. I reached forward and opened my curtains to check the light outside.
There was a neatly stacked pile of clean clothes on my bed; obviously, my mom had been about. Picking through the pile, I searched for something to wear. I was mentally ticking off a list in my head of the essentials: Boxers, Tee-shirt, jeans and socks, but there was no sign of the top I was looking for...
“HEY... HEY, MOM! DO YOU KNOW WHERE MY ROOSTER TEETH HOODY IS?”I bellowed.
There was a moment’s hush before she responded: “What?”
“I SAID, DO YOU KNOW WHERE MY ROOSTER TEE--.”
She interrupted me. “Isn't it up there on the pile of clean clothes?” Her voice was getting closer.
“DON'T COME IN, I JUST GOT OUT THE SHOWER!” Recoiling in horror, I quickly regained my wits and dove for the bedroom door, slamming it shut.
“Ursine, dear, I used to change your nappies, you know, and besides, it's nothing that I haven't seen before. You are, after all, your Father's son. Now, please try to use your indoor voice.” She chirped. I did listen to her and lowered my alarmed tone.
“You did not just say that... I hope you know that I am going to be drinking tonight to try and repress what you just said!” A sick feeling was swirling around in my stomach. Why do parents always know the things not to say, but say them anyway?
“Stop being so silly, Ursine. I remember a time in the third grade when you had a problem with not showing yourself, you were quite the exhibitionist. I can remember it like it was yesterday. You were reading Thomas Edison’s part in your third year school play, and you forgot your lines so you...”
“MOM, WOULD YOU SHUT UP? JEEZ!” My indoor voice had all but vanished as I was stunned by the memory.
“Sorry, dear, but it was very funny, and you were so cute! My name is Thomas Edison, and I discovered electricity... and nervously played with myself in public, apparently.” I heard her chuckle in the hallway to herself. I sneered.
“See, mom, this is why I never bring any friends over! I would have to kill them, or I would die of embarrassment.”
“Oh, stop being so wet, Ursine. Have you found the top you were looking for?” My mom asked.
“No, mom, I have been preoccupied holding this freaking door shut...” I was defiant to say the least.
“Well then, Ursine, how about you move, and I'll show you where it is?” With a sigh, I stepped back from the door, pulling the towel around myself. I was defeated.
“Okay fine... Come on already, I'm getting cold!” I grumbled.
“Must you always be so difficult?” Opening the door, she looked over at the pile of clothes, “Isn't that it by the windowsill? I guess you never took it down to be washed.” She sighed.
“I didn't see it, mom. Thanks I guess; don't worry about washing it now, it's fine. I have deodorant; that should work. Thanks again, mom... You can go now.” I held the door open, my brows were raised, and I tried to give away as little emotion as I could.
“Oh before you go, Ursine... there is one more thing.” Pursing her lips, I wasn't sure if she was being serious or not.
“What?” I asked. Curiosity had me intrigued.
“You’re not going anywhere until your rooms tidy.” Speaking the words quickly and with authority behind them, she headed for the door.
“For crying out loud I'm seventeen!”
“What and you think you should get special privileges or a medal perhaps?” She said arching an eyebrow.
I could guess and say I was walking on thin ice. “No-uh, I just... Fine... I'll tidy it.” Pouting, I began to gather the discarded garments and rubbish littering my room.
“Never a problem, dear,” she said drifting out the room and into the bathroom. “It's okay, Ursine. I will take your towel down for the wash.” I rolled my eyes.
Another thirty minutes ticked by as I emptied my room of its spoiled contents. Emptying the clothes in the washing hamper downstairs quickly, I got changed. Finally, I snatched the rubbish sack from my room and ran it outside to put it in the trash can. Walking back into the house, I finally had a chance to look through the phone. One of the messages was from Mike. It said he was going to be early because his mom wasn't home, and so he skipped his chores and got ready. I think he said something about wanting to get some beer before we went to the club, but I couldn't tell. The other message was from my admirer.
*hey goofy, hope your looking forward to tonight, it could change your life forever x*
“Yeah I bet it does!” I grumbled the words to myself. I was all geared up to meet Mike's hot friend, and my stalker was probably going to be a pasty-faced, hairy knuckled dude with enough Flunitrazepam to incapacitate a hippo. A knocking at the door threw off my trail of thought. I could hear my mom who answered it.
“Ursine, it’s your friend Michael; he's here with no flowers for me, again!” My mom joked... Well at least, I hoped she was joking.
“Mom, don't encourage him, he's stupid enough to think you're being serious!” I hated it when my mom tried to be funny. Flirting with my friends was always enough to make me feel queasy.
“I saw some flowers, Mrs. Edwards, but there weren't any pretty enough for you.” Mike winked at my mom. I was mortified. That sly bastard, he was so dead.
“Now why can't my little Ursine have more manners like you, Michael?” My mom said with a sigh.
Probably because I'm not so stoned that I hit on anything with a pulse, I smarmily pointed out to myself.
“He has great manners, Mrs. Edwards. You should have seen it the time he took Becky's babysitter-” I quickly cut Mike off. I was stunned that he would reveal the story to my mom.
“Mike, she doesn't need to know about the time I helped her get home. You're probably too busy, right, mom?” I abrasively said. Mike looked at the door; his tongue was in his cheek as he giggled softly to himself.
“Actually, I'm never too busy for guests.” My mom responded with a wicked grin, apparently wanting Mike to elaborate. Now, I know that she knew she had to be getting on my nerves.
“Well, Mom, I'm thirsty, can you get me a drink?” I said in a desperate attempt to dispatch my Mother. I was hoping she would take the now less-than-subtle hint.
“You know where the kitchen is, dear.” She paused and looked at me expectantly. I frowned, trying not to lose my temper; after all, I did want to go out...
“I'm joking!” My mom said, much to my relief. “It’s always a pleasure, Michael. Please bring Ursine back in one piece. I don't fancy having to bleach the toilet bowl because he replaced his blood with booze again.” She glanced at me, and with a sigh, she turned and headed back into the lounge.
“Dude, your mom is so much cooler than my mom! My mom is all like, ‘Mike, pass the Jay’ and ‘roll one for me; I can't be assed’. Your mom... Well... Your mom's hot!”
“Mike, what have I said about you crushing on my mom?” I spat the words, copious amounts of venom within each syllable.
“You said not to or you would 'Gouge out my eyeballs and skull-fuck me'. That’s right, isn’t it? It would be totally worth it, though-” I punched him in the arm, cutting him off.
“Ahh, that's my rolling arm, you bitch! Wait...” Mike appraised his arms, nodding to confirm to himself. “Yeah, you goon, that’s freaking lame!” I was pleased with his pain.
“Well, Mike, when you’re finished with your hissy fit, are we going or what?” I retorted.
“Huh? Yeah, I suppose we will be...” I called out to my mom that we were leaving.
“Where's my kiss?” She protested heading back towards us.
“Aww, really?!” Mike's eyes lit up. “MIKE, STAY!” Slumping my shoulders, I quickly ran over and pecked her on the cheek, “Love you, Mom...”
“Love you, too, my little handsome man; have fun!”
“Okay, Si, so you ready now my handsome, little man? Come on; give us a kissy-wiss!” Mike spoke high-pitched, trying to sound more feminine.
“I'll give you another dead arm, dude. Now shut it, and let’s go.”
“See ya later, Mrs. Edwards! Until next we meet!” Mike called out. I could hear my mom's laughter ringing from the lounge.
Opening the door to Mike's beaten up Toyota, the door protested as it squealed on its hinges. The odour from his car came rushing out at me. I could tell that he had given a go at cleaning it... It still stank, but now it was less cluttered, and he had made it smell like a tart's handbag. With the cheap perfume that was radiating from the interior, saying that, I suppose it could have been his cologne. My eyes began to water the moment I sat in the car. I sighed quietly.
“Mike, you don't mind if I keep a window open, do, ya? That smell's going to make me bald, on top of giving me a headache.” I said while trying to hold my breath; it was no good. When I had to breathe again, the huffs of air were killing me; possibly, literally.
“You are so fussy, man. First the car stinks like a jock strap, and now you’re complaining even after I cleaned?” Mike seemed genuinely hurt... I knew he was playing, but in any case, I thought it was best not to press the matter.
“It’s not my fault you make your car go from one extreme to the other.” I clicked my seatbelt into place, and I started to laugh in disbelief.
A moment went by before Mike joined in. “Hey, you know what? The driver decides how he wants his motoring experience, and shotgun has to deal with it, or they can just keep on walking,” Mike said, appearing to be proud at the sentiment. Firing up the ignition, he swung his screeching door shut and cranked up the stereo. Finally slipping the scrap heap into gear, we set off.
Chapter 3
We went to The Keg a few months ago to see a band. Mike had dragged me along despite my protests. The bouncers rarely ask for I.D., and the admission was free before eleven. Really, Mike was just looking for an excuse to go crazy.
It was a really small venue, like a dungeon for a dance floor. Saying that, the room was surprisingly spacious; but with the ceiling being so low, it made the whole place seem cramped. Red paint was smeared on the wall, and event posters were littered around the place, letting people know who was playing and when. They had the kind of philosophy which was instead of tearing it all down and resetting it, they would just paste it on top. It made the whole place feel like in the day time, squatters would be lounging around, sleeping on ammonia soaked mattresses... In any case, with the buzz of people jumping around to the thrash metal that I couldn’t discern, it was a fun place to be. There was always one person or two being sick in the toilets, a fight was on the verge to break out or a girl would be crying because of their asshole partners, or vice versa. I don’t think I could say that it was a magical place, but it definitely was a happening one. Flashing lights lit up the room and the aroma of sweat and stale beer filled the air. On the bright side, it looked like the heat wave was finally dissipating. Not that you could tell inside that particular sweat box. But you could feel the change coming in the air, like a charge of energy. With the loud music and lots of dancing ladies, it was taking all my self-control to not go completely crazy. I wanted to jump around and thrash to the music. Normally I was the sit in the corner with a beer kind of guy, but I was wired for some odd reason; I didn’t think that I had more than a beer at this point either. With each new song that was played, it was becoming more and more difficult not to fly around and act like a complete idiot. This really wasn’t like me... Mike hadn't noticed me acting oddly yet, which is good, as he would have been encouraging me. I think it was because he was looking for his mystery girl to arrive.
Don't dance, and don't act like an idiot! I kept telling myself. My pulse was racing, and I was starting to worry that someone had spiked my drink. I kept feeling tenser as the beat continued. I was practically bobbing on the spot. Something had to be wrong with me.
“Mike, I gotta go out for some air; it's too hot in here,” I called out over the thrumming beat of the music.
Mike turned to look at me, appraising me for a moment before finally replying. “No worries, dude, I'll get you a bottle of water if you think it might help?” Mike looked genuinely concerned, possibly for my well-being, or possibly for his. He had to of been worried if my mom was going to kick his ass, or if I was going to need to get some help before the girl he was into had turned up.
“No, don't worry about me; you go mosh. I'm just going to go get my head together,” I replied with a half-hearted wink. I brushed past a bouncer on my way out of one of the fire exits, which had been opened and cordoned off as a “smoker's area”.
What the hell was going on with me? We only got here about forty-five minutes ago... I re-called what I had had to drink. It had only been a couple of Buds. I was pacing myself, still waiting for Mike’s friend to arrive... Feeling more confused and frustrated, I consulted my phone to see if I had missed anything... Maybe my hairy-knuckled admirer was here and hadn't spotted me yet... unless of course, he or she was bluffing. I glanced at my phone with that in mind and noticed that I had a missed call from my dad.
Shit! I had forgotten all about that chat he wanted to have with me. The memory echoed in my head making me feel momentarily worse. I was trying to think of a valid reason for me not to stay in and chat... I suppose I could have said that I had a bad dream, but my dad was not the sympathetic type. One time he had fired one of his employees because their partner had a baby early, and they were not scheduled for maternity. Yeah, my dad was the polar-opposite of my mom. Hitting the green button on my cell, I waited a few moments for the call to connect, while taking the time to try and compose myself. I felt like I was waiting for someone to jump out at me. Every noise was amplified; I was wincing from the grinding thump of the rock music. Pulling up my hoody in an attempt to cover my ears hardly made any difference at all. I could hear each footstep going on inside the club, each distinct shuffle; I could picture in my head those who were wearing sneakers, boots or platforms. There was even an idiot wearing sandals in the mosh-pit. I could hear the distinct slapping and scuffing sound that they made when the owner made a movement. What the hell was happening to me? The call didn't connect. I dropped the phone as the static crackled and bleeped through the receiver. It sent a buzzing through my skull.
The world was beginning to look crazy at this point; I could feel myself sweating, dropping to my knees, feeling overpowered by my base senses. The sounds and the smells were getting to be too much for me. I threw up. Heaving, my organs strained, blood thumped in my head, and the outside sounds were drowning out, thanks to the rhythmic beating of my heart. The smokers that were standing outside enjoying the fresh air were urged inside from the bouncer who was by the door. I remember wondering if I was contagious the way that I was being treated. After the bouncer ushered the smokers away, he approached me and grabbed a hold of my shoulder... It wasn’t to help me.
“Hey, if you can't handle your drink, you’re going to have to get the hell out of here,” the brutish bouncer glowered at me.
My heartbeat kept accelerating, being spurred on with everything going on. I began to hyperventilate; digging my fingertips into the gravel, I could feel one of my fingernails break. It tore away a strip of skin with it. I was having so many things happen at once that I didn’t have time to register the pain.
“I-I d-don’t know what’s happening, I th-think I’ve been s-s-spiked, p-please call a...” A crippling pain shot through me, forcing me into a convulsive spasm. My back arched. I was lying on the floor, and I couldn’t stop my arms or legs from twitching.
My heartbeat thudded in the foreground. I could hear voices that were muffled badly thanks to the excessive blood flow.
“Get him out of here already, last thing we need is for some junkie to die here, it'll ruin business for us.” The mail voice over the radio squawked.
“No worries, I'll get Phil to drop him by the dumpster around Lakota's. He can just be their problem in the morning,” the bouncer grunted.
“Just get a move on,” the other voice stressed.
My eyes rolled into the back of my head; I felt like I was about to explode. I was afraid that if I jolted again, I might bite off my own tongue. The bouncer grabbed a hold of my leg while pulling the light steel barricade open, which had been ringing the perimeter of the smoker’s pen.
“It's all right, fella; we'll get you some help.” He chuckled.
I knew what was going on, and I was more or less aware of my surroundings. “D-don't. I-I won't s-say anything, p-please!” My words were strained; my body still tensing that it was taking all my control not to scream. There was a burst of noise as the clubs door swung open.
“He said, don't... What, are you deaf?” Mike's voice called out. The bouncer turned and faced him, dropping me onto some discarded cigarette butts and broken beads of glass that dug into my skin. My eyes began to re-focus; I could just about see Mike standing in the doorway with two girls. The music was still blaring away in the background while my body was trembling; part in sync with the rhythm.
“My friends here just had a go at me because I wasn’t sticking with you dude... Sorry about that.” Mike said motioning to the women by his side. “Si, are you alright? I thought you were just going out for some air?” I could see that Mike was clearly concerned; a dumbfounded expression was across his face. “Can we talk about this?” Mike asked the bouncer hesitantly. I still wasn’t at the point where I could converse. The bouncer held a quizzical expression on his face, taking a moment before he bleeped his radio. In an instant another bouncer appeared, apparently responding to the radios call.
“Phil, take this one while I have a few words with his worried friends.” The first bouncer sneered, rubbing his thumb across his nose.