Warrior

Time no longer has any meaning to me. One day seems to merge into the next in an endless exodus towards no goal whatsoever. Life goes on. Everything is too normal and it makes no sense to me. I’ve told Kia everything. I have told him how I was made to clean blood after three of the murders, how I turned earth for two, how I knew it wouldn’t end, that one day… I would be next. Yet, I’m still here, free, living my life as if nothing has changed yet everything has.

After everything I’ve confessed to, they didn’t arrest me and that makes no sense to me, whatsoever. The FBI is preparing for a trial, preparing to convict my father as a serial killer, yet no one has arrested me for the part I had to play in all this. I don’t understand why? Beau says it’s because I’ve done nothing wrong but that’s not true. I was there. I watched each and every one die. I helped him hide the evidence. That makes me an accomplice, no matter how you look at it.

Life goes on. Why does life seem to, oh so casually, go on? Day after day, school, therapy, work, home. It’s all so routine, so casual. Shouldn’t the impact of this secret be greater? Shouldn’t my life be over now that the secret I’ve hidden for so many years is free? Yet, my life, the life I want nothing to do with, persistently goes on! It seems as if nothing and everything has changed, all at once, and I don’t know how to deal with it.

School has gotten hellishly awkward. They know. They all know that my father is a serial killer and consequently, I’m not all that popular there. I can see what you’re thinking. You would think that I would be happy with this turn of events seeing as I never wanted to be popular, never wanted to be liked. Only problem is that instead of being invisible, I’m now the centre of some very negative attention and that’s not exactly what I had in mind.

Beau is always at my side, always watching me and chasing all my ‘would be’ bullies away. I guess that it shouldn’t be all that surprising seeing how much like a leech Beau has become of late. I think he thinks I will do something stupid. He’s both wrong and right, depending on how one looks at it and on how one defines stupid. He would define it as stupid. I would not. I still don’t see what value my life has to anyone and don’t really have a great desire to live it any longer. Not after everything I have done and if they won’t punish me, I will.

Anyway, inner contemplation aside, I guess I’m not all that surprised by the fact that Beau is protecting me. I’ve almost come to expect it from him, but it makes me kind of sad. Beau’s life has changed because of me. He is no longer that carefree jock that flutters from group to group, getting along with everyone while never joining a clique. He has enemies now. People he used to call friends and all because of his choice to stay by my side. Why would he choose me over them?

Alex is still by my side. After everything that’s happened he’s still by my side, encouraging me to express myself using the panpipes that, strangely enough, I seem to be getting a hang of now. Go figure. I’m given a voice when it’s the last thing I need. Oh, and let’s not forget speech therapy. Some bright spark, give them a medal, figured out that I’m not actually mute. Even so, I find it near on impossible to articulate anything so now, on top of seeing a shrink I also have a speech therapist. Oh the joys of the medical profession and finding new ways to take advantage of all the possible benefits it may provide. Yup. My sarcasm is back. Not in its former glory but hey! Cut me some slack here.

Back to the topic at hand. Alex doesn’t care what anyone says about me. According to him and I quote, life is too short to have your choices influenced by childish people that are too blind to see the true value in others. He said that he can be friends with whomever he damn well pleases. I was shell shocked. Alex actually cussed! Apparently whomever he damn well pleases is currently defined as me. He’s even taken to following me around after school and I’m now under explicit instructions to make him take it easy and to call emergency should anything happen to him. These instructions were handed to me by a small rather formidable looking woman who can only be his mother. He looks almost exactly like her. The thought of something happening to Alex scares me. I still don’t know what’s wrong with him. Part of me wants to know and another part of me wants to stay in denial.

Josh’s place is still alive and kicking. Strangely enough, he didn’t go bankrupt after temporarily losing two employees, the only two employees that I know of mind you. I heard he closed the shop entirely which makes me wonder. Does he actually need the income or is running the music shop some kind of eccentric hobby of his? Something tells me it’s the latter. Alex and Josh get along like a house on fire. Yes, Alex manages to even follow me to work, though once there, I rarely ever see him and when I do, he’s always at Josh’s side, talking rather animatedly about music. The few times I bothered to listen what they were talking about managed to overwhelm me with facts and figures I cannot even begin to comprehend let alone understand. Seems Alex also has a passion for anything, and I repeat anything to do with music. I think the violin Josh loves so much will soon have a master but don’t take my word on it. Wait and see.

So many changes in my life yet the most surprising one is Laura. I think global warming is far more dangerous than any of us could’ve ever imagined because Laura is now hanging out with Alex, Beau and I. In fact, it’s she that more often than not chases Kevin away. I’m sure you all remember Kevin, a nice strapping young man who plays football and in his spare time practices his language skills in the form of derogatory remarks while finding interesting ways to work out.

Laura doesn’t say much but when she does, let’s just say that performing half naked in the bathroom with tongue down someone else’s throat is not the only way to embarrass someone. She’s taken to giving Beau and I some rather interesting advice, featuring things I don’t even want to contemplate, let alone try. Worst of all, they feature Beau and I together doing intimate things. Beau, damn him, doesn’t even protest. Instead he drops his gaze and shifts, a strange smile upon his lips and a flush upon his skin. I’m going to assume that the flush is due to distress and embarrassment at Laura’s rather ridiculous suggestions. Something tells me I don’t want to know the meaning of that smile, though!

Let us take one step back here. Beau and I are not together to begin with, so why would we, he, even contemplate doing anything let alone what (insert chocking here) Laura suggests? Moving right along. Stranger still Laura hasn’t even mentioned her aunt to me. Not once. She now knows what happened to Makayla. I told her. Or should I say I signed and Beau told her? He didn’t look too happy with me for saying what I said but I wanted her to know the truth. I told her what I did the first day that she joined us for lunch at school and she point blank ignored me. She didn’t even react, calmly eating her sandwich, seated beside me as if it were the most natural thing in the world to do. Go figure. I’ll never understand the female mind let alone what drives someone like Laura.

Now I know that all of this is actually far from normal in any sense of the term, I know my life has in actual fact changed drastically but in comparison to what I expected, my life is far too normal. Here I am, living day to day as if nothing ever happened, going to school, playing the panpipes and working all while surrounded by people that call themselves my friends, a new mother and a puppy that won’t leave my side without being restrained against her will. The only thing that seems to go against what is traditionally defined as normal are my visits to a psychologist and a speech therapist and even those are not as unusual as one might think.

I’ve heard nothing about my father, except for the fact that the killings are going to go to trial and the trial date has yet to be set. Please note, when I say nothing, I’m excluding the media. There is little truth and a great amount of sensationalism to what they say. The truth is far, far darker. I’m sick of them. I’m sick of all the flashing lights, all the questions and all the assumptions they make when I say nothing. They are vultures that hone in on the carcass of a dead animal just to pick it clean. They seem to be leaving me alone now, but it’s far from over. They will be back to claim the little scraps of my soul they may have missed the first time they ravaged me, exposing all my wounds for all to see. I hate them with every fibre of my being.

“Dimitri! Are you even listening to me?!” I jump, suddenly torn from my inner contemplation of the meaning of life, the universe, everything and the number 42. Okay, maybe not quite. My life has little bearing on the meaning of life and existence and 42? Let’s not even go there. Beau glances at me, frowning in concern before facing forward once more. “Are you alright, Dimitri?” He questions softly, flicking the indicator and turning right.

Yes, you’re not delusional. Beau can actually drive. He’s taking me somewhere. I can’t tell you where because I myself have not faintest idea. He insists that it’s a surprise. I don’t think I like the sound of that. I rub my arms, trying to rid myself of the chill that always seems to have me in its grip. It’s always there, present deep within me along with the expectation of being torn apart once more. Murphy can’t be done with me yet. Not after all the affection he’s shown me recently.

‘Yeah.’ I sign carefully, ignoring the tension deep within me as well as the uncertainty and confusion that have taken up permanent residence within me. I also ignore the betrayal of my body. I’ve lost control of my muscles, my body and tend to tremble more often than not. I’m scared. I’m terrified of what lies behind me, before me and around me. I don’t want to lose this delusion of a second chance that I’ve been given but I just know that it’s inevitable.

The car slides gracefully to a halt. Beau really is a good driver, rather strange for someone his age. I mean, aren’t teenagers supposed to be reckless? However, he’s not as graceful once outside the car, or is it me? Beau is once again dragging me towards an unknown destination and I’m suddenly reminded of our first meeting, reminded of the day my life as I knew it ended and my defences first started to fall apart. Now, like then, he does not wait for me to agree to go with him and now, as then, he will ignore any protest I may even attempt to make.

I barely register the guard at the door as Beau rushes past him, grinning and waving like a maniac before dragging me into a building. Left, right, right, left, right and then… I skid to a sudden shell shocked halt. This is… I’m standing before our art project. “We won.” Beau whispers into my ear, wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his chin upon my shoulder from behind. How did he manage to get behind me?

His touch is warm, pleasant and sends a hum of electricity coursing through me but I ignore it in favour of what’s before me: Our incomplete art project and yes, it’s still incomplete only now, it looks deliberate. My dragon hangs beside his warrior and the two, create symmetry. Both paintings are incomplete yet balanced. The detail of my painting leans towards left and Beau’s towards the right, seeming to create a deliberate balance between the two paintings that’s in actual fact nothing more than due to me being right handed and him being left handed. The detail flows into the base coats we each applied; which then flow into the white of the canvas that we had yet to paint. The effect… is amazing but it’s not that which draws my gaze. What truly holds me in place, pulls at my heart strings and draws me in is the warrior, Beau’s warrior, a wounded warrior with a mixture of determination, pain and defeat upon his face. The warrior is me.