In Dying Light

Be My Enemy - Adrian

          My eyes darted to him as I was on the ground. This “guy” was supposedly my friend. “Hmm, I can’t believe you’re not drunk yet. Normally you’re like this when you’re drunk.”

          Thomas chuckled. “I can go get drunk. You sit your pretty behind down and just wait.”

Voices muttered as they approached the car. I got up and saw Thomas stumbling and slurring his words. Damn. I was only kidding, I thought myself. Thomas came over to me and chuckled.

          “Drunk,” He said smiling. “Happy?”

          “This is all a big mistake.” I whispered. “I really should be getting home.”

          I managed to sneak by Jake, but Thomas stopped me. He chuckled and then struck me hard in the face. I stumbled back and I nearly slipped on the wet pavement. Jake and Patrick must’ve been drunk, too. Their arms wrapped around mine and brought my arms back behind my back. I heaved over when Thomas hit me multiple times in the stomach. He’s stronger when he is drunk. The coppery taste of blood filled my mouth. Thomas let out a hard hit and Patrick and Jake let go of me, letting me fall hard on the pavement.

          Thomas knelt down and hit me repeatedly in the face. Blood fell out of my mouth. I kicked Thomas in the face and he staggered backwards. Police sirens filled the distance. Patrick and Jake ran to the car and got in. Thomas got into the driver’s side and they drove away. I painfully got up. My side felt like it was on fire. Now it was time to face my drunken father.

I opened the door quietly and closed it, locking it quietly behind me. My father grunted in his seat. He caught me.

          “Where were you?” He asked, standing up.

          I didn’t respond, and all I did was look away.

          “Adrian, where the –” He flipped on the lights and that’s when he saw my face. “Who did that?”

          “Thomas.” I whispered.

          “I am going to hunt that kid down.” I was surprised because he normally would get mad at me. “This is too much. How many times has that kid beat you?”

          “I – I don’t know, Dad. Can I just go upstairs? Please?”

          He nodded and I left. “Wait!” Dad ran to the kitchen and tossed something to me. “Put that on your eye. And make sure to clean yourself up.”

Dad sat at the dinner table earlier this morning. I went down and sat down next to him. He sighed and shook his head.

          “You know, son,” he whispered. “I hope you know that I am trying to stop everything for you. And now this guy is beatin you almost every day. What is happening?”

          I looked at the floor. “I really don’t know, Dad. Half of the time I don’t even know what’s happening.”

          “Call the police. You could have this guy arrested.”

          There was dead silence. “It is more than one guy. There are three guys.”

          More silence. Only this time, it was tension silence. I ran a hand through my hair. Dad got up and left. Now here I was, sitting at my table alone, with no one but an upset father. I sighed and got up myself. I rested my stomach against the counter, holding on to the edge of it.

          Maybe all of this is my fault. Thomas is like a ticking time bomb waiting to explode. It is hard enough dealing with him beating me up every day. I decided to go back upstairs and go back to sleep.

I awoke later that night, a car horn blaring in the distance. I groaned slightly and got up.

          “Adrian!” Dad screamed. “It’s that punk again!”

          I rubbed my eyes with sleep and threw a shirt over me. “I got it.” I muttered.

          There I continued walking down the stairs. I went outside and a car door opened and closed. Thomas walked up to me, my face shone lightly in the dim light of the porch light.

          “Is your eye okay? It looks pretty bruised.”

          “What are you doing here?”

          Thomas chuckled. “I want you to meet someone.” He walked back over the car. I saw him waving me over. Sighing, I did begin to walk. He yanked open the car door and a girl stumbled out when he grabbed her arm. “Adrian, I’d like you to meet Bethany. Bethany, this is my friend, Adrian.”

          She chuckled lightly. “It’s nice to meet you Adrian.”

          I could feel her eyes looking me up and down. Her blond hair was in neat, light curls and her blue eyes shone bright with the sparkles that were sprinkled on her cheeks.

          “Why did you come here?”

          Thomas stepped close to me. “I want you to,” he looked over at Bethany, “you to get busy with her.”

          “What? No! Why would I do that?”

          “Shhh, keep your voice down!”

          I scoffed and went back to my house. “You know, I’m sick of you, Thomas. Next time you step foot on this property, I’m calling the police.”