The Weirdos

2

It was unbelievably awesome to be alone and afraid. Not to feel it, but to actually be it. And he was. Abandoned by his family and having had ever only known his mother and father, he had nowhere else to turn. Not even friends. He didn't know who to trust, where to go, or how he'd get anywhere unless it be by foot. Why was he alone? Why was he afraid? His parents accused him of working with the devil after he touched a window and the entire thing froze over. including the bottle of soda on the windowsill. And the strangest part of it all? It was the middle of summer in one of the hottest places in the US. Arizona. His parents were scared of him, and even more frightened when his once brown hair, turned white. He didn't even recognize his own reflection. How did this happen? Why did this happen? Was it a curse? What would he do? How would he get rid of it? Could he get rid of it? What even was it? He was pacing, staring at his hands, flipping them over and under and over and under. He hadn't tried to touch anything since leaving the house. He was afraid of something similar happening to other things, such as people. Such as himself. Would he be safe with a pair of gloves to cover his 'wicked touched' hands? He couldn't help but remember his mother's horrified face as the glass bottle shattered. It startled a scream out of her.

"What the hell did you do?"

"I don't know! It... It just happened!"

He was almost as scared and horrified as she was. He didn't know what was happening to him. He still didn't know. His father... God, his father...

"What kind of dealings are you doing with the devil?! Your hands are his wicked touch! This... This witchcraft will not be allowed under our roof. You need to go. Get out and never come back, you beast of Satan!"

"Dad, please! Don't do this to me... I-I'm not evil! I would never-"

His cheek still stung from the slap that was issued. And the roaring that came after... It didn't stop until he left the house. It wasn't right. It was almost like... his parents were the ones dealing with Satan. For how could a parent disown their only flesh and blood?

They had just moved into a new town, Florence, after the death of his last grandparent. His only other family was his aunt Evelyn. His parents had likely called her by now and told her of his misdoings. He couldn't go to her. And all his friends were back in California. Not to mention he had no way of contacting them. His iPhone was back at his home. Well, what used to be his home. He'd forgotten it on the bed while he packed his things into a couple of duffel bags. He felt so... betrayed. And hot. Very... very hot. It was Arizona, anyway. He was at a park near his home, the midday sun beating down on him. It was supposed to reach 107° that day. He missed California, with its cool sea breeze and drizzles every now and then. It sucked when it got humid, but it was home and it was beautiful and his perfect kind of crazy. Though, it had its problems, too. Such as the fires that always seemed to be burning. And the housing that costed too much and put more and more people out on the streets. Every place has its good sides and bad sides, just like a person. You had to look passed the bad to be able to see the goodness within. Why couldn't his parents do that for him?

God, he wished for a breeze. Or some shade. Or both. And a cool drink. But, the closest place serving free drinks and pricey food was about a mile away. He'd already been outside for a few hours. It would take him at least fifteen to twenty minutes to get there. He would've gone to the neighbors, but the neighborhood was sketchy. He even heard the cops call the place, 'tragic ranch', as a nickname for the housing development, magic ranch. The signs said 'magic ranch at Oasis', but most people liked to call it Oasis for some reason. When the bus driver asked you where you were going and you said magic ranch, they'd correct you and say, 'Oasis'. Then you'd have to agree and find a place to sit. The kids on the bus were loud and obnoxious. Playing music on their Bluetooth speakers, getting yelled at by the bus driver to get it turned off. Sometimes they sang inappropriate songs, but the driver was helpless against that. School... What was he going to do about school? He wanted to graduate. He only had a couple of weeks left and then he'd be a senior in high school the upcoming school year. He was only seventeen. This was too much for some silly little seventeen year old who already had too much on his plate, trying to figure out his place in the world. This was all... It was too much.

He had so much swarming through his mind and he was beginning to panic. He didn't know what he was going to do. He was kicked out of his only home. He had no friends at school. And even if he did, he wouldn't know where they lived or if they even lived close enough. Plus, he had no phone to call ahead and ask for directions or to be picked up. Magic ranch, er, Oasis, was on the outskirts of Florence. The actual town of Florence, well, that was a fifteen minute drive from Oasis. You do the math. He had no plans. Had no phone to google anything and figure himself out. He was stuck. At least for the moment.