Writer's Games Entries

Task 4: "A Change of Heart"

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It had barely been two weeks ago since his mother passed away. She had been sick for quite some time, and she couldn't take the fight any further. His stepfather had grown more and more distant...and violent. Today...today was the first time, and it had hurt, far more than Cyrus ever thought was possible. He never saw it coming. It just happened. "CYRUS!" His entire body went into a panic-mode at the sound of his voice. He was lying in his bed in foster-position. He couldn't move, he couldn't even sit up straight.

"CYRUS! I called your name, you stupid brat!" An even bigger shiver ran down his spine as he tried to get up, but it hurt. Cyrus barely managed to get up on his feet. He could hardly put one foot in front of the other as he walked towards the door. He had a feeling he knew what was coming. On the other side of the door, he heard footsteps stomp their way towards him in a rapid, aggressive pace.

Just as Cyrus made it to the door, his stepfather pushed the door, causing Cyrus to fall backwards. Tears ran slightly down his cheeks as he looked up at his stepfather who was heaving for his breath. He was just a ghost of the man Cyrus had lived with the last couple of years. He took a deep breath before he started undoing his belt. Cyrus tried to sit up slightly. "Get on the bed...NOW!"~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I manage to snap out of that sudden memory that appears in my head. All the things that I've tried to distance myself from during the last eight years, is coming back to me. I barely remember that to be honest. I barely remember the weak, scrawny and vulnerable kid that I once was. This memory reminds me of it. The shell that I spent years creating, locking everybody out, is slowly melting away as the memory brings back all of those weaknesses that I extinguished years and years ago.

It's the gas. I swear it's the damn gas. I want to clench my fist in anger, but my hands are shaking, the sweat has almost become a damn pool inside my palms. I sense my heart pounding wildly inside my chest...kind of like all the times I heard my stepfather call my name, or even worse, when he...the first time I wasn't even sure of what was going on. The very same fears that I felt every time he came towards me, every time he called my name, is coming back to me, but at the same time, my mind doesn't entirely respond to it. It's like my mind and body are in two completely different worlds.

The signal of the elevator having reached its destination, booms over the entire room and for some reason I flinch. My body that is, my mind doesn't. My mind tries to calm down my entire body, but it fails. Nothing seems to work. "W-what have you d-done to me?" Even my voice is shaky. That's not even remotely close to how my tone usually is! They're messing with my head. That gas...they've done something to me and I don't freaking like it all! They're making me look weak. I hate it! I hate them for what they're doing!

The second I step out of the elevator, a sudden sound nearby throws my body completely into a state of panic. My body goes into a complete lockdown and it throws itself...I mean me, against the wall. My mind tries to fight. Originally I'm not afraid, but my body seems to sense every piece of fear that there is and it goes into a complete lockdown. I can't fight it at the moment. I'm not scared. I can't be scared. I mean, I feel it, but at the same time I don't. I can't. It's like it reminds me of how it used to be when I was that little kid.

"Are you...are freaking trying to change me? I will...never change!" I try to yell out even though my entire body is shaking in fear that I deep down find misplaced. I'm sitting against the wall, not entirely sure why. I sense this pressing feeling inside my chest, starting to dominate my breath as it turns shorter and shorter, like I'm...like I'm hyperventilating. I can even remember the first time that happened.