The Only Way Out

Chapter Three.

We're walking, and he's this heap of pale skin and big lips and pretty eyes that have bags under them like the lack of sleep bruised him. He's walking down the road like the he isn't afraid of anything; I'm going down this sidewalk like every corner I turn around there's going to be someone there who will look at me like I'm not what they wanted to see. I'm walking down this sidewalk staring at the ground like I'm in the school hallway. I should blame it on my anxiety, I blame it on this god damn town.

He stops suddenly, and turns down an ally. I can tell this is an old part of the city, because the building is brick. On the side of it, there's graffitti spray painted everywhere. He throws me a can of spray paint.

"Get to work," he says, and starts painting something that looks like an eye.

The street we're in is just a space between to brick buildings, both abandoned. He found this place when he was about 12, and ever since then he comes here to get his mind off of things. He keeps a box of spray paint cans back here, and paints-slash-destroys the sides of the buildings whenever he feels like it. He tells me this while he's painting on the wall behind me, and I'm staring at blank bricks. I don't even know this guy's name, and now he's sharing his little secret hideout with me.

"I'm going back to my truck," I say, starting to walk away.

"No! Don't go," he pleads. He puts his hand on my shoulder. I turn around, staring at his hand until he lets go.

"Look," I stammer, "This is nice and all, but I don't even know you."

"It's not like I'm going to hurt you or anything, you just looked like you needed a friend and I needed one too, and you just happened to be the first person to my disposal." I scoff, roll my eyes.

"Goodbye, then." I start walking away, throwing the spray paint can in the box on the way out. The box says "My name is box." on it, and I laugh. "What?" he says.

"Hi Box, I'm McKenna." He looks confused for a second, and then starts chuckling, trying to hide his grin. Before, he looked cold,distant. Now, he looks enticing.

"McKenna," he states, as if he's testing out the way it sounds in his mouth. "I'm Tyler."

"Well, Tyler. I guess I could stay for a little longer." And he smiles.

I pick up the can of spray paint, and start writing on the wall. I'm writing this quote that my dad used to say all the time, one that stuck in my head ever since. I pick up a different color and doodle little planets around the words, and then little stars around them. Tyler turns around and now he's standing next to me instead of painting behind me.

"What's stopping you from creating your own universe?," Tyler reads. He stares at it for a long time, as if deciding whether or not to say something.

"Are you apart of it?" he asks me. "The rebellion, are you in it? That saying. I've heard it before. It's something my mom used to say. It's the rebellion... that has something to do with the rebellion."

"No. My dad used to tell me that." I can feel my heart beat accilerating at the mention of the rebellion. All my doubts about Tyler, they're all gone.

"Your dad and my mom, do you think they knew eachother?"

"Maybe. My dad... He died last year. He was trying to get through the Barrier. And the dogs, they just came and..." I try to explain but I never really had to before. There wasn't a funeral, there wasn't any sympathy. It was all just some fake obituary in the newspaper. How could I explain now? The words sound weird on my tongue, and even weirder once they're in the air. It's hard to admit it, even after it happened. Especially to Tyler.

"My deepest empathy, McKenna."

"Empathy?" I ask, shaking my head. "You mean sympathy."

"No," he says. "Empathy. My mom, she died too. Just last year too. The Dogs came into our house and killed her. The next day some Trainers came and took me and my dad, and decided my dad deserved to be killed too, and sent me to my aunt's."

"I'm not in it," I say softly. I don't want to dissapoint the man who is looking at me like a child. Wide eyes, eager grin spread across his face, staring into my eyes like I'm the best thing in the world.

"Ah, McKenna. That's what you think."