Chain Reaction 3.1.37: Freak

     Ivy's gone. The baby's gone. I have nothing. I'm a freak.
     I whine quietly, "Ivy, please come back."
     Why do those I love always end up leaving me? All my life it's been like that.
     Mean, taunting voices from the bullies of my childhood come to haunt me. "Your mom died because she couldn't bear to have a son as fat and ugly as you."
     Then I remember Darrin. "I can't stand being lied to." I'm a failure. Darrin once called me brave for laughing in the bullies' faces, but all I was doing was lying to them and to myself by saying what they said didn't hurt.
     Now Ivy. "You're an oversexed pervert... freak."
     And there you have it. I'm a freak. Of course she's right.
     I turn and sit down on the tiles.

     Ivy, come back! I want to run after her, but she'll probably see that as yet another desperate move of the freak of nature that I am. After all, according to her, I killed our baby.
     I let out a roaring wail and fall against the tiles, sobbing. Too much activity? That's what she said. I killed it. I don't even know if it was a boy or a girl! Now I'll never know!
     Maybe it's good that I'm not going to pass on my genes to the next generation. I get up and crawl to the kitchen cabinet. In the far back of it is a bottle of whiskey. I haven't touched it in ages, not since my last crying fit over Darrin. I put it in my inventory and crawl into the living room.

     I'm a freak. I'm a freak. Ivy left me because I'm a freak. The words play on repeat in my brain.

     I'm worthless!

     I wake up gasping for air. I'm still a little drunk. It's the middle of the night.
     Moaning, I work on sitting up.

      Oh yeah. It all comes rushing back to me why I fell asleep on the floor. Ivy said I killed the baby and left me. I turn around and see her easel sitting where she left it.
     Too much activity. I stand up, wobbly at first, but I manage.

      Too much activity. I turn myself and look at the picture I once loved. My heart rips.

     TOO MUCH ACTIVITY! I stomp over to the picture. FROM YOU NOT TAKING CARE OF YOURSELF! I pick the portrait up from the hanger, taking it off the wall, and throw it, hard onto the floor.

     B*TCH! I realize I probably didn't help matters, but she can't pin the blame all on me, whether or not it's more convenient for her to do so.
     I crouch down and fish the portrait itself away from the shattered glass, being very careful not to cut myself. That done, I stomp over and snatch her easel from its place. Then I take both things outside...

     ...where I burn them.

Alaric

      I've been doing my best to live without Kate. Since summer is finally here, that should be easier. At least I won't be suffering as I see her in the hallway at school.

      But I've realized not seeing her at all is worse.

      Dirk says I should just find someone else, start over. I suppose I could, but I owe it to whomever-it-ends-up-being to get over Kate first. Right?

     Except hanging around her neighborhood isn't the wisest course of action. I'm here on the pretense of acting like I want to enlist in the military. Those recruiters do a plumbing good job at trying to convince me, but I haven't signed anything.
     It's unseasonably cold tonight in the more desert side of town. Strange, but weather is weird. Maybe the aliens are up to something.
     My pondering gets suddenly distracted by some drama happening nearby.

     I see someone with a small frame run across the street, headed into an alleyway. A man stands on the other side of the road, yelling at her. I assume it's a her.

     "And stay out, you worthless excuse for a daughter!"

     My eyes widen. That was Kate's dad. Kate.

     I take two steps in the direction of the alley before I pause. Wait. Am I doing the right thing? Should I intervene? I'll admit it, this possibility entered my fantasies a few times, but I didn't think it would actually happen. And I don't think what I did in those fantasies would work in real life.

     But I have to know if she's okay.

     I continue to the alley and pause at the entrance, listening. I hear shuffling and what might be sniffing. Tentatively, I walk toward it.

     "Hello?" I think I see her. Hopefully she'll let me help without verbally attacking me. She jumps out, terrified. "Ka--" A wooden board whacks me in the side of the head, and I land on the ground.

     "Oh no! Alaric?!" Kate is leaning over me now, gently touching my face. "Are you okay? What are you doing here?"

     I'm glad I have a believable excuse, and I sit up and hold my head. "Bar. Recruiters. Just an idea. Saw you running."

     "Plum, Alaric. I am so sorry." She bursts into tears. "You're bleeding."

     I touch my head and then move my hand to the light. "Yeah. But I'm okay."

     She grabs her book bag. "C'mon. Let's at least get you cleaned up."

     I start laughing. Oh, this'll look great for the recruiters. I get walloped in an alley by girl who probably weighs less than 115 pounds. 

     "Are you sure you're okay?" She looks concerned, also probably watching for her father, as she awkwardly helps me stand. "What's eleven times eleven?"

      I laugh some more. "121."

      She breathes a small sigh of relief.

     The bar has a first aid kit, and I get some help getting cleaned up. I have quite a knot on the side of my head, but at least we know it's outside the skull.

      "Mind telling me what's going on now?" I ask once I'm patched up.

      She sighs. "They kicked me out."

      "What?" I say too loudly then hold my head. "Kate, you know, if you need a place to stay..."

      "Could you take me to Kyra's house?" she interrupts, probably knowing what I was about to offer. She looks apologetically at me. "I texted her while they were cleaning you up."

      I look at her phone. It's the one I bought for her. I also bought that book bag. "Yeah." I sigh. Then I pause. "But, uh, maybe you better drive." I guess I'll get Kyra or somebody to take me back home.

      She looks at me again as I hand her my keys. "Your mom is going to freak."

      "Yeah."

      "I'm so sorry, Alaric."

      I think up a possible flirtatious response like how she might make it up to me, but I know that would only piss her off. Instead, I reply, "Hey, it's okay. It's, um, good to know you can defend yourself."

     We get to Kyra's house, and sure enough, she freaks when she sees me. "Oh my maker, Alaric! We need to get you to a hospital!"

     "I tried to tell him that on the way over here." Kate watches Kyra start fussing over me.

     "Could you just drive me home?" I'm starting to feel woozy.

     Kyra turns and hugs Kate, saying she'll be back later. One of Kyra's moms takes over and guides Kate to a room they have ready for her--as if they expected something like this might happen. "C'mon." My old friend takes my hand and leads me in the direction of her car.

     I smile. Kyra's holding my hand. I think I'm starting to lose it.
     My feet try to trip me up--something like that, and I'm suddenly falling. I quickly reach out and grab her to catch myself.

      That startles her. "Are you okay?"
       "My feet tripped me."
       She sighs and wraps her arm around me, supporting me better, and we walk to her car.

     It's like I close my eyes and boom! We're in the hospital parking lot. "Wake up, Alaric!" Kyra's lightly shaking me.

     "Huh?" I look around. "Why are we here?"

     "C'mon. Let's get you inside and then I'll call your mom and dad." She gets out and helps me out of the car.

     I throw my arm around her shoulder and look at her sparkly hair. It even sparkles in streetlight light.

     "I like your hair." I've always liked her hair, way back to when we were kids even. I put my face in it.

     "Stay with me now, Alaric."

     "So pretty," I mumble. I might... just have a concussion after all. Some small part of my brain knows I'm not acting normally.

      I pass out.