Trials & Tribulations: Book 1
The moonlight shoots through the open window, illuminating the room, reflecting off the tiny shards of glass that litter across the wooden floor, from the shattered full-bodied mirror on the sidewall. The cool wind sends a shiver down my spine as it sends the curtains fluttering. It seems to whisper a familiar melody in my ears as I can't help but stare at the scene unfolding around me.
I feel a presence behind me and as I turn around, a shadow of a person disappears through the gaping window and that feeling dissipates into thin air as quick as it came.
I'm alone.
The air quickly turns cold, chilling my bones. I begin to notice blood is everywhere. The stench of unseen human flesh invades my nostrils, nearly turning my stomach.
Everything fabric-wise in the room has been slashed and drawers from the chifferobe have been ripped open; clothes and personal items strewn about as if they were searching for something.
The place has been thoroughly ransacked.
Suddenly, I'm not in my room anymore. I open my eyes and I'm out in the open. The trees sway above me as the wind picks up. The forest begins growing colder by the second and I begin to shiver. It doesn't take me long to realize that the t-shirt I was wearing is suddenly gone and I'm exposed.
The air is cold, lifeless and damp. The bubbling in my chest started to grow, my skin crawling with uneasiness, feeling trapped -- claustrophobic, like a fish in a bowl without water. I need out!
A lifeless body lays before me, on the ground, their flesh torn to pieces.
Steeping closer, I'm unable to see their face . . . to make out who it is. Kneeling down, with shaky hands I, for some reason, pull the body onto my lap. The feeling of fear was becoming too overwhelming for me to control. My body was shaking with it from head-to-toe and my breathing was becoming labored. The identity of the young man was unknown to me, his face was drenched in blood, my vision blurred from the tears cascading down my face that I was too numb to notice until now.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I open them again only for the face to remain the same. Blurred.
Everything was now dense and hazy. My senses on high alert and my entire body was screaming for me to run. I didn't know what from, but my body was aching all the way to my toes. The tears rolling down my cheeks landed on the ground below, kind of like raindrops . . . One by one. I'm frustrated from being unable to see exactly where I'm going, but I'm running and the idea of stopping anytime soon was not an option I'd like to consider even only slightly.
The unknown of what could be coming for me was frightening. My eyes were rendered useless to helping the onslaught of what was to come. It was a matter of life or death at this point. Just which one was it?
Out of nowhere, something is launched my way. I duck my head down just in time, with the stench of the fallen becoming stronger as each second passed.
Lifting my head, I see that It's a rock. It lands inches from my foot. My heart is pounding at this point. I gulp. There's a note wrapped around it. I twist my neck around, checking my surroundings as my senses heighten once more. It's too dark to see anything further than a few feet in front of me. I make the quick decision to grab the rock . . . to see what is on the note.
"They're coming for you", it reads. And then everything goes black...
--------------
"Hey, Owen!"
I blink and come back to the present, only to yelp and flinch when I notice a face an inch away from mine.
"What?"
Ainsley, one of my classmates, leans back with a huff. "If you're going to react that way then don't ignore me."
"There was no reason you had to get so close to my face. You won't find anything interesting there."
"But I was calling you and you were ignoring me!"
Ainsley Grace is unfortunately my best friend — if by best friend, you mean someone who tries to talk to you into doing dumb shit and annoying the absolute fuck out of you, then yes . . . Best friend. Yippee. "What the hell do you want, fuck-nugget?"
"I was asking if you'd done the report. I haven't finished yet and it's due tomorrow. I want to take a look at yours."
Really, instead of a friend, Ainsley is more like a pest. A sisterly pest. I am the class loner, I don't try to get close to others and they never try to get close to me, but I'm also one of the smartest kids in class. At least, I usually get the top grades. If you repeat that, I'm going to punch you in the face and rearrange it. I might be five-foot-nine, but I can throw a hit. Momma never raised a bitch.
People like Ainsley aren't uncommon, but usually, they back off when I immediately refuse to do as they want and act all friendly just because they are willing to talk to me. Fuck that.
Ainsley never cared about that. Ever since we were forced to do a group assignment together in the third grade, she started to bother me. If she wants something, she keeps pestering me until I give in. Kind of how we ended up in a jail cell freshmen year because somebody wanted to go to a college party and talked me into going. It was all fun and games until the cops showed up.
In the eyes of everyone else, we are the best of friends.
I have to wonder if they were all fucking blind. Or maybe I'm just really desperate for a friend.
"I'm not giving you anything, Ainsley."
She smirks. "That means you finished it, right? I don't have a lot of time since the report is due tomorrow, so why don't you cut us both some slack and just hand it over?'' I roll my eyes. ''I'll take a few pictures and leave you alone for two entire days." She pouts. Her intense green eyes would almost convince someone that she was innocent. What a fool they would be. Her fiery red hair, that was completely unnatural, swung low by her hips as she leaned back on her heel, her hand on her hip as she stared through me as if she could see the depths of my soul. Creepy. And slightly scary.
I want to immediately say no, but I pause. Ainsley's persistent in a lot of ways. She hates studying, but she also hates getting bad grades. I can't help her cheat on tests, but to her, it's okay as long as she hands in all her assignments and gets good grades on those.
For tests, she most certainly has to study, but for everything else, she takes shortcuts. If she doesn't have someone do the assignments for her, she copies from someone else--me. Fortunately, I'm not the only person she bothers, but she bothers me the most considering I hold the ''best friend'' title.
...Lucky me?
One time, she tracked me down and followed me for a whole day, even in between classes and during lunch. Every time I told her no, or cursed her out, she just ignored me and kept coming back, like a dog that was hungry and I had the food. It was embarrassing.
I may have been daydreaming about the nightmare I had last night a few moments ago, but Ainsley was my real nightmare while I'm at school.
"Fine, whatever," I grumble, pulling out the report. "Take your fucking pictures and hand it back then get lost. You're not even supposed to be in this class, are you?" I groan, letting my face fall into the palms of my hands in frustration.
I wipe my eyes with the inside of my sleeve and I glance at the clock, checking the time. Class doesn't officially start for another five minutes, but the teacher usually arrives moments before the bell.
Ainsley quickly takes pictures of the report, sending me another smirk, and sashays out of the class. I just roll my eyes and lay down on the desk, waiting for the teacher to come in.
My thoughts drift back to my nightmare.
It definitely isn't new. I don't always remember what I dreamed, and most of the time I'm damn thankful because a lot of the ones I do remember were bad dreams. Dreaming of blood and dead bodies was anything but normal.
Ugh. This was why I hate horror movies.
There's nothing I could do besides ignore it, because I definitely don't want to remember it, but the damn dream keeps haunting me.
Anyway, thinking too much about it will only put me in a worse mood. The teacher arrives just then, providing a distraction. I take out my books and place them on my desk as I wait for class to start.
---
The rest of my school day is as boring as usual. I went to my regular classes, had some assignments to turn in, we did a quiz for our Chemistry class. By the time the bell signaling the end of the school day goes off, I am more than ready to get away from this place.
I have the urge to throw myself at my truck as soon as I reach the parking lot – of course I don't actually do it because that would be too weird, but I really was tempted.
The truck is painted a dull red. I take care of it well, but that won't change that it is a very old vehicle. Still, it's sturdy, and my brother helped me fix the radio so it works just fine for me.
Also, my ass has road-rage and my horn works, too. Keeps me from running over a bitch.
"Owen!"
"Ugh." I groan and slump against my truck. When I glance over my shoulder, I see Ainsley running towards me.
Fuck. I had the perfect opportunity to duck in my truck and drive away, pretending I didn't hear her. I lost it, though, because she comes to a stop beside me in a few seconds.
"What do you want, Ainsley?" I ask, feeling tired. "You promised you wouldn't bother me—"
"Yeah, yeah," she waves her hand, dismissing my words. "I didn't come for that. Actually, I have a new boyfriend," she announces proudly for the third time this month. You do you, boo-boo.
I arch an eyebrow. "And why, exactly, would I fucking care about your love life, Ains?"
She pouts. "I don't need you to care, but I do need a ride. I didn't bring my car..."
As her eyes turn to my truck, her words trail off. Her expression shifts, she doesn't even try to hide it. Her disgust is very obvious.
"I thought you got rid of this . . . thing?" she sighs in disappointment. "Owen!"
"Hey, there's nothing wrong with my truck," I sneer. "Besides, I wouldn't give you a ride, anyway. You annoy me enough while we're at school, so do me a favor and go away."
"Text you later?''
Ignoring her, I jump into my truck. She still stands there, staring at me with arms folded across her chest, the disappointment clear in her expression. I just cough and crank down the window, turning on the radio. With Taylor Swift's ''All Too Well'' blasting out of the speakers, I shoot Ainsley a sweet smile, and maneuver myself out of the parking spot and eventually out of the lot.
I hum along to the song as I drive. Home isn't that far from school by car, though, so I only get through three songs in before I'm pulling into the driveway.
"I'm home," I call out as I enter the house, through the living room. I can hear sounds coming from the TV, and from the kitchen. I know who would be in the living room, so I head for the kitchen instead. "Mom, you're up."
She smiles towards me from where she stands, preparing a cup of coffee. I walk over and she pulls me into a side hug.
"Welcome back," she says, then sighs. "I just came to drink something hot, but I'm going back to bed soon."
I frown. "You look tired, Mom."
She looks like a zombie. Her skin is pale, there are dark circles beneath her eyes, and her eyes are red.
"I know," she says, chuckling. "You wouldn't think I'd been asleep for more than twelve hours with how I look right now. But don't worry." She has to reach up to pat my head. I'd hit a growth spurt recently that had me grow up a few more inches over the past several months. I duck down a little so she didn't have to stretch her arm so far. "I'm only going to take a nap, I'll be making dinner tonight."
"But it's your one off day. You know we won't mind if you just slept the whole day so we could take care of everything."
"As much as I appreciate that, the last time I let you guys try to cook, you nearly burned down my kitchen." She cups my cheek for a second before pulling her hand away. "I'll take care of dinner. Don't misbehave until then, tell it to your brother, too."
Mom picks up her mug, and with a tired wave over her shoulder, heads for the stairs.
She is a night-shift nurse. Because she works crazy hours, we rarely see her, and she looks like she barely got any sleep. She only has a day where she is free of work and she usually spends it by relaxing, but she can't stop worrying about me and my brother.
I want to protest some more, but I am hopeless in the kitchen. Usually, Mom cooks food and leaves it in the fridge so we can reheat it, or we have takeout. With nothing else to do, I go to my room to get started on homework.
---
After getting showered and changing into a pair of sweats and a Panic! At The Disco t-shirt, I grab my earbuds from my backpack and pull up my library on my iPhone. I turn off the light and crawl into bed with The Fray's ''You Found Me'' blasting through the little speakers. I hum along to the lyrics as I try to fall asleep, but... I'm wide awake.
I don't want to sleep.
Even though I've sort of gotten used to them, I really hate the nightmares. Sometimes, nothing horrible even happened, but the emotions I felt in those dreams felt so real. I always come awake in the middle of a nightmare and the overwhelming, negative emotions are still there. At times, it takes a few moments, other times it takes forever for the feelings to finally fade.
I've never told anyone about the nightmares because I don't want to worry about anyone, but thoughts of blood and gore have me breaking out in a cold sweat. Was that what I will see when I close my eyes? I hope not.
I lay in my bed, flat on my back, fretting because there isn't anything else I could possibly do. I must be really exhausted, though, because I don't even notice when I close my eyes and fall into a deep sleep.
The picture above is how I see Owen.
The model used for him is Gino Pasqualini.
Please let me know what you think of Noble. ^.^
Also, I hope you voted blue for Biden and #dumpTrump, or GTFO my comments.
Chapter dedicated to: Tiggermazz for putting up with my bullshit for 5 years. I love you, sport. ❤️
I decided to re-write this chapter because I wasn't fully happy with it. I wanted to add a bit more Payton into it than it was before. I hope you like it.