Midnight- Chapter Two

Chapter Five

So there’s this bridge near where I live, right? It’s got a little stream running beneath it and it has an ok view. It’s a pretty decent place to hang out except for the couple of dead birds, the horrible smell and the litter everywhere. Overall, me and Monique found it good enough to just hang out, drink alcohol and simply talk. I find it good enough to just sit and simply… think.

Empty beer bottles, similar to the one I was holding in my hand, were floating silently above the water, amongst paper, crisp packets, sweet wrappers and… trolleys? I just sat there, watching them float by, thinking about how cruel the earth is today and how many millions of penguins die each year due to silly ignorant people like the ones who littered this stream, throwing junk into the sea.

‘I didn’t know you were old enough to drink.’

I didn’t even bother to turn around. I just took another swig from the bottle, wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and pushed my hair from out of my eyes.

‘I’m not.’ I replied, continuing to drink.

Zane sat next to me, leg touching leg, and grabbed the beer bottle from my hand and took a swig himself

‘So how old are you anyway?’ I asked curiously.

He didn’t look much older than eighteen, nineteen. Not too old for me…

‘I don’t know.’ he said, taking another swig.

‘You don’t know?’

I laughed out loud at that one. It just sounded so… stupid. Like, who doesn’t know their own age?

‘How can you not know your own age?’

‘I just don’t, ok?’ he replied, a little snappy if I may say so myself.

‘Ok, ok.’ I said, swiping my bottle back from him.

Fancy not knowing your age. Not having a birthday. Not knowing or looking forward to a set time in life when you can finally drive, or drink or get married. Fancy not knowing any of that stuff?!

‘Do you have parents?’ I asked, totally out of the blue.

I kicked myself for asking such a pointless question.

‘No.’ Zane said. ‘Never have, never will.’

‘Did they die when you were little or something?’ I asked, rather nosily, but so what? You have to ask the questions to get the answers, right? No use going through life being too polite for your own good! What fun is that??

‘No.’ Zane said.

‘Did they give you to an orphanage or a foster home or abandon you then?’

‘No.’ he said. Once again.

‘Well then what?’ I asked, impatiently.

‘I never had parents, ok?’ Zane said, taking a fag from inside his pocket and lighting up. ‘I never had a dad that taught me how to play baseball or a mom that blew me kisses on my first day of school. I never even went to school, Izzy. I just… I didn’t have any of that. I don’t have parents, I don’t have friends. I’ve never been on a roller coaster or been on holiday. I’ve never been to school or had a job. I’ve never played in a park or eaten a hot dog. I’ve never done any of that stuff. I wasn’t around for that stuff, I wasn’t created for that…’

‘Created?’ I said, so quietly it was strain for even myself to hear.

‘Yeah.’ Zane said, inhaling the smoke, then letting out tiny puffs, one after the other, mesmerizing and hypnotising me.

My mind went like a blur, just like it had when I woke from the bite. I felt disoriented and queasy. Basically totally out of it, like when you go to a party and down five pints of beer, a macaroni cheese and party cake, all in the same hour. Yeah…. Take my advice: don’t ever do that!

My cheek suddenly burnt like it was on fire, but stung from the inside out. My mind cleared and the queasiness slowly started drifting away. At first, I didn’t even have a clue as to where I was, I just knew someone had slapped me.

‘Hey,’ I snapped, pushing his arm, half aggressively, half playfully. ‘Why did you slap me?’

‘Because you were going out of it.’ he said, half a smile playing on his face. ‘I did it thinking you had a stronger mind, a stronger soul.’

‘Wait,’ I said. ‘You did that?’

‘Well I didn’t think you were that weak, you were like a human or something!’ Zane exclaimed, laughing.

‘Erm, jeez, maybe because I am one?’

Zane stopped laughing and slowly his smile died down until it was just a simple blunt expression on his face. He scratched the back of his neck in that sort of tense way teenage guy usually do when they’re either:

1.) Embarrassed.

2.) Shy.

3.) Have something to hide or

4.) Have a crush on you.

I was kind of hoping for the last one.

‘Why did you say that, like I’m not human or something?’ I asked, perplexed, watching him watch me.

‘Say what?’ Zane said.

‘That.’ I answered back.

‘What?’

‘That!’ I said, astound. ‘That! What you just said! The whole human thing!’

He shook his head and looked down, not willing to meet my eyes, now not willing to tell me what I so wanted to know.

‘Am I human?’ I asked, sort of stupidly.

I mean, what sort of question is that? You’d never think of asking it because you’ve been convinced from birth that you are human, but if you’d been through the same past few days as I had, you’d be just as inclined to ask that sort of thing.

Zane smiled, a sweet smile. An innocent smile.

I reached out my hand, kind of like they do in the movies, and touched his cheek. I felt it’s warm, velvet smoothness against my skin and I felt the strong squared jaw bone and the high powered structure of his cheekbones. I watched his eyes close and his lips part slightly as I ran my finger tips through some of his hair and around his ears. For the first time, I think I actually understood someone. I felt what he was feeling, I felt his anxiety and curiosity burning deep inside him, his awareness to the things so new to him that seemed so regular to us. I felt his love and his passion, his thirst for knowledge, and his thirst for blood. I felt my own insides tremble as pictures started flashing before my eyes, pictures… things I couldn’t quite make out or understand. Did I even want to understand? Somehow I didn’t think so. I wanted to pull away, to stop feeling what he was feeling, to stop seeing these terrible images of torture, labour, death, hurting and… Zane.

Everywhere I looked I couldn’t escape those dreadful images, those horrific memories that somehow ran from his mind to mine. People were being whipped, tortured, tied up and burnt to a crisp for not doing the simplest thing. People were screaming and crying out in pain from behind closed doors, though no one knew what they were screaming about, just that they were next in line for the pain. And the blood… blood spilt everywhere, pouring from peoples bodies like there was plenty more than enough to be wasted…!

I caught my breath and pulled away, staring at Zane, wishing I hadn’t seen those things, wishing I hadn’t seen into him.

My eyes started welling up with tears I couldn’t help.

‘Does it hurt?’ I whispered, my hand somehow finding it’s way under Zane’s t-shirt to the cove where his heart used to be.

‘Sometimes.’ Zane said, his voice cracking.

He touched my hand and looked to the ground, probably afraid I’d see the sadness in his eyes.

Too late.

I’d already seen it.

I could feel my heart aching in my chest, those images still fresh in my mind. I wanted to run away, to just run from it all, as fast as I could and never turn back, but somewhere inside me I knew that no matter how fast I ran, those images would always come after me, always haunt me.

As they did Zane.