Something Bad

Chapter Eight: You Look Like Just Another Meth Addict

Chapter Eight: You Look Like Just Another Meth Addict

Wisps of hair hit my eyes as an onslaught of wind was thrown at me due to the rate at which we were going. A continuous torrent of frigid air hit my body as we rushed down the aged road. The feeling that I was receiving was unlike any rush I had ever encountered. I had ridden on motorcycles before, but something about this time was different.

      My arms clutched tighter to the individual in front of me, for he possessed the one thing that I currently eluded: body heat. I was freezing, while he looked to be almost warm. He most certainly wasn’t cold, like me—that was for sure.

      Though my eyes were forced into slim slits, barely able to see anything so that my eyeballs wouldn’t pop out of their sockets because of the more than heavy breeze, I could still make out the basic area to which we had come. We weren’t exactly in Kansas anymore. In fact, we weren’t in Kansas, because Kansas was in the middle of nowhere, while the city in which we were currently located happened to be in the middle of somewhere. Filled with a rich history of revolutionary tales and killing the native inhabitants with disease and guns, Boston wasn’t only a tourist destination to bore kids out of their goddamn minds, but also the city in which I lived.

      Anyways, I knew that we were still in Boston—we hadn’t been driving long enough to leave—but it wasn’t the Boston that I knew. There weren’t any sidewalks, leading me to the brilliant conclusion that though the area may have been residential, it wasn’t exactly hospitable. There were barely any signs of vegetation, and we were currently passing through an uncovered passageway made up of dilapidated apartment buildings. They soared at rivaling heights to some of the skyscrapers of corporate means, but had qualities of a lesser value. Everything was going by so quickly.

      Suddenly, everything around me had paused seeping through my vision, and came to a halt. We had stopped. I took the stationary opportunity to better analyze where were. The tall buildings were still everywhere, but we were in front of a place that was on the corner of a street, and was more than half the stature of the other structures around. There was a sign above the building that read: “S per Mart.” It looked as though there had previously been a “u” between “S” and “per,” resulting to a title that really was: “Super Mart.”

      When Luke had said that we were going for ice cream, I assumed that he was taking me to a cute place built for unicorns and bunnies. It would’ve been the type of place with a striped awning of pastels hanging under a sign that had a name ending in “y” or “ie” with the possessive “s” next to it, and “ice cream” tacked on somewhere. Presently, there wasn’t a bunny or unicorn in sight, and not a single hue of powdery blue or pink. It wasn’t what I had been anticipating.

      “Why are we here?” I questioned, shedding my arms from Luke’s torso.

      We both got off the bike, and Luke began to walk towards the entrance of the “S per Mart” as his answer was called over his shoulder. “To get ice cream.”

      “Here?” I demanded, having to sprint in order to keep up with him.

      “No, in Antarctica,” he quipped sarcastically. “Where else would we go?”

      “Oh, I don’t know, a real ice cream place and not this shifty-ass place?” I mused, as Luke neglected to hold the manual door open for me, causing me to hurry to catch it before it fully closed.

      “What, are you scared, Princess?” he teased, as I stepped into store right behind him.

      “I’m not a princess, and no, I’m not scared,” I huffed, as my eyes began to scan around the scene before me.