Warmness On The Soul

Chapter 2

What had I gotten myself into?
I turned and held out my hand. She looked at it with a shocked expression.
“Take it before I change my mind”
She reached up and grabbed it. I pulled her up easily. She head came to my shoulders.
“Where do you live?” I asked and headed toward the door.
She hung back, tears swelling up in her eyes again. What was her problem?
“I can’t go home” she hung her head.
I just stared at her, regretting even talking to her. I grabbed her bag and headed out the door to my car. She realized I had left with her bag and chased after me. I threw her bag in the backseat of my car, along with my bag, and I got into the driver’s seat. She then got in beside me.
“Um ... Can I put in a CD?” she asked me nervously.
“What CD?” I asked her.
“Buckcherry”
“No need”
I reached into the center council and pulled out Black Butterfly.
“That’s the one I have” she said
I put in the CD and blared it. Now I didn’t have to listen to her try to make conversation, but then I realized I had to talk to her anyways, to find out where I could dump her off at. I turned down the stereo.
“Where do you live?” I asked her again.
“I don’t want to go home” she said
“Then where the hell am I supposed to drive?”
“Can’t you take me to your house?”
“Why on this gray cold earth would I do that?” I looked over and glared at her.
“Just for a little while, until my mom goes to work”
“How long will that be?” I looked at the clock.
“Until six, I’ll be gone by morning so she won’t have to...”
“All I needed was the time. Not the story” I cut her off.
She looked down. Pain running through her face.
I pulled out of the parking lot, turning up the stereo and flooring it as I pulled onto the road. She grabbed the handle on the door. I did my half smile and went even faster. I was weaving in and out of traffic.
“Shit! Slow down!” Jenny shouted at me.
I looked over at her. She was terrified. Maybe she will think twice before she talks to me next time.
I slowed down to the speed limit. She relaxed a little. That was, until I took the corner onto the gravel road at 40 miles per hour. I fishtailed my car and she screamed. When the car straightened out, she reached over and hit my arm. It didn’t daunt me. She shook her hand around in pain. Another one of my half smiles came out. I couldn’t control that one. I was glad my hair blocked her from seeing it.
I pulled into my driveway and parked in my normal spot. I got out and grabbed my bag.
I looked at my house and sighed. This place shouldn’t even be called a home. More like a shack. Normal sized house in shambles. Nearly all the windows had been cracked. The once white paint had long gone and faded. The side of the house had fresh paint on it though. It was vandalism. Someone spray painted ‘Slice yourself and die slowly’ on the house. Well, at least I had an excuse to get away from her.
I walked up to the door and unlocked it. I threw my bag and long coat into the house. I took off my gloves and bracelets and threw them on the pile.
“Wait inside” I said and walked over to the rusted shed behind the house. I grabbed a rag and a bucket. I filled it up with water and started cleaning the paint off. I had to get this done before my old man got home. Last time he saw what was written on his house he took it out on me. I have the scars to prove that one. Cigar burns hurt like hell.
“You need any help with that?” she came up behind me and grabbed one of the extra rags I brought out.
“No, I do this all the time. Go back in the house. Watch TV or something” I growled. What did she have against silence and solitude?
“Fine!” she pouted off back into the house and slammed the door.
I sighed again and started back on the wall.
When I finished with that I put the bucket and rags back into the shed and walked into the house. I picked up my stuff and headed toward my room. I walked up the stairs, each one creaking as I put my weight on it. I came to my room. The door was opened.
I know I shut the damn thing. What the hell is going on?
I walked into the room and looked around. There she stood looking at the posters of the many metal bands that I favored. What made it worse was that she was sitting on my bed. I stood at the doorway and glared at her. I got more of a better look at her.
She wore a tight pare of jeans. They where a light blue. She had skateboarding shoes. Those where lightly colored at well. She wore a plain white t shirt that looked a little tight. It was like she was trying to show herself off. Her arms were pale and she wore a simple ring on her right hand.
“What?” she noticed I was staring at her.
I threw my stuff over in the corner and took my bag to the desk. I poured out the contents and started working on my homework.
“What classes do you have?” she asked me
I reached over and turned on my radio.
“What is your problem, Vayne?” she was irritated
I turned up the radio, just loud enough to block out her voice.
She got up and stormed out of my room. I shook my head and got back to work.
Algebra 2... Chemistry... English... History... Finished.
“Hey Vayne, it’s six” she turned down my radio so she I could hear her.
“Hmm?” I looked up at her confused. Then the past few hours came back into memory. “Oh, that” I said. I got up and headed out to the car.
She followed closely behind me. I jumped in and she started giving me directions. It took nearly 30 minutes to get to her house. Of course, with my luck, it turned out that she lived about 5 miles down the road. Buckcherry was still in the stereo and when she had gotten out the chorus for the song ‘Don’t Go Away’ started. I flicked off the stereo and headed out.
I took out Black Butterfly and put in Five Finger Death Punch’s ‘The Way Of The Fist’ CD. I flipped it to ‘The Bleeding’ and blasted the stereo.
I pulled out of her driveway and flew off. I was home by the time the song was done. I couldn’t believe that she had gave me those directions. She was directionally challenged for sure.
I saw my dads car in the drive way. He was home early; that is never a good thing.
I walked into the through the door, slowly, trying to quietly get to my room. Each one of my steps made noise.
He came out with a baseball bat. I froze, staring at him, almost cowering. His eyes were glazed over. Great. He was drunk already.
“Oh, Its just you” he said with disgust, and turned and walked back to the arm chair in the living room. “Get me a damn beer!” he shouted at me.
“You were just up” I said back at him.
“Listen to me you little piece of shit! Go get me a damn beer” He shouted.
I walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge. The thing was packed with beer. I sighed and grabbed one, shaking it a little bit, and walked back into the living room and shoved it in his grubby hand/
He opened it right away and it started fizzing all over the place. I turned to leave. “You fucking bastard!” He shouted and threw the can at me. I was splashed with beer.
He then got up and walked at me. I stood my ground, not moving. I kept eye contact with him. He swung his arm up and I took the chance: I threw a right fist at him. I hit him in the gut. He doubled over in pain and swung his arm around backslapping me across my face. It stung. It also threw off my balance. He took the chance at that and dived on me. He knocked me down and held all of his weight on my back. I struggled but couldn’t get away.
He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out his lighter, lighting it instantly.
“This will teach you to mess with me” he snarled.
He grabbed my arm and twisted it so the palm of my hand would stick up. He held my wrist and put the lighter under my hand. I felt the heat instantly. When the flame licked my skin I screamed. Pain surged up through my arm. I felt the skin being burned away.
“I want you to respect me you snot nosed brat! You hear me? You worthless good for nothing mother fucker!” He screamed into my ear.
He threw my arm aside and got up. I just lied there.
“Get up!” he screamed.
He kicked me when I didn’t move.
“Get up!” he screamed again.
I got onto my hands and knees. Blood already had soaked the carpet. I tried to crawl away from him.
“Listen to me!” he kicked me again.
I fell back to the floor. My knees locked up. I couldn’t move them. He had kicked them too hard. He walked over and stepped on the my hand where he burned me. He pushed down. I screamed again. This time tears of pain came to my eyes. My vision got blurry, and as I faded in and out of consciousness, I just realized how much I'd really rather be dead right now.