Chapter 3

Lance

Lance cranked up his I-pod, blocking out his parents screaming. They had been fighting for as long as he could remember. It wasn't as if he really cared anymore. It became too normal to hear them fighting. In fact, they fought so much they forgot that Lance was there. He was invisible at his house.

He smirked at his thought of being invisible. Despite the fact that he had shoulder length black hair, he was six foot four. This is kind of hard to ignore, especially for a sixteen year old. People at school always stared at him, like he was some kind of monster. Lance had towered over everyone in his class since grade five. It's not his fault everyone in his school were all short. He sighed and his bangs fell over his dark eyes.

He heard the kids from across the street. He looked up and saw Leslie. She was the only person who was a) tall for her age, five foot seven, and b) she wasn't scared of how he looked. But that might have been because she couldn't… well, see. She was blind. He watched her tapping her cane after her brother, Jamie. Lance glared at Jamie, watching him run across the street, his side of the street. Leslie wandered out, aimlessly, in the middle of the street. She kept on calling out for Jamie to come back. Lance slowly got up and walked over to the sidewalk.

Suddenly, a mustang swerved around the corner, going down the street at full speed. Leslie stood there, pleading for Jamie to come back. Lance leapt over to her and wrapped his arms around her, shielding her from the car. He clenched his teeth, bracing for impact. And then…..

"Jamie? Who is this? What just happened? Lance? Lance, is that you?" Leslie gasped, feeling his face hurriedly.

"I-, yeah, it's me. You were almost hit but they stopped before they would have hit us," he muttered, staring at the car.

"Oh, thank you, Lance. Are you okay? Nothing broken? No need for an ambulance, right?"

"No. No. I'm fine. Just go back inside. Jamie, take her back inside."

Jamie started as he heard Lance snap at him. He slowly walked over to Leslie, his eyes never leaving the car. Jamie gently took her hand and led her back inside of their house. Lance stared at the car in awe. The front of the car had folded in completely, bent around him. The strangest part was that he was one hundred percent okay. It didn't hurt as if the impact of the car absorbed. The door had been bent shut and there was no movement from the inside. Lance walked over to the door, hesitantly. He chewed on his lower lip, silently debating the possibility. But after a few seconds, he reached and grabbed hold of the top of the car door. He took a deep breath and pulled down. It ripped off like it was paper.

Lance reached in and pulled the man out of the car. He lay him on the ground and put his ear to the man's chest. There was the resonating sound of nothing. Lance drew in a sharp breath. He started to beat the man's chest madly.

"No." Still nothing. "No. "Murderer. "No!" He's Dead. "No, no!" Because. Of. You. "NO!"

He pushed away, stumbling onto his yard. Lance scrambled onto his feet and ran into the house. He ran past his parents, straight into his room, and slamming the door.

"A monster. I'm a monster," he whispered into the dark.

Tears filled the darkness, hysteric sobs ringing into the emptiness. And so the battle began.