Viktor(14)

A little kid drawing dragons on the floor with crayons accidentally drops one, so I bend over to pick it up. I smile as I try to give it back to him; our hands briefly touch in a moment where I’m just a man, and he’s just a boy, and we can both be at peace. But he looks up and peeks under my hood, his eyes widening and the crayon dropping from his hand. He screams and rushes off, calling for his mommy.

I keep walking, trying not to let the dagger of his screams puncture my heart.

But he isn’t the only one who stares.

As I walk through the market, people stop to stare.

They don’t just look because they’re curious … They look because they’re scared.

They hide their kids behind their hands as if seeing me will scar them for life.

Some guys make disapproving faces while others growl. A car nearly hits me as the driver focuses so much on my face that she fails to see where she was going. I barely manage to jump away, but my hood falls down, exposing my scars to the world.

Everyone around me stops in their tracks, their eyes only on me.

When I look around me, none of them feels ashamed of staring at me. But I do.

“Monster,” one of the kids yells at me, and the mother shushes him quickly … but not fast enough.

“What are you doing here, freak?” a kid says, and then laughs as he passes me on his skateboard.

Grinding my teeth, I try to walk, but another man bumps into me.

“Watch it!” he says, but when he really sees me, his eyes say everything. “S-sorry.”

“Leave me alone,” I snap.

I can’t do this anymore.

I can’t pretend everything is okay.

“Oh, my …” he mutters, still gaping at me as if I’m some sort of show.

“Stop looking at me!” I yell, shoving him.

The people around me collectively gasp.

“Mommy, he hit that man,” the kid says again.

“Don’t talk about that dangerous man,” she tells him softly, but I can still hear her.

Dangerous man.

Because that’s what I am.

My scars make me a dangerous man.

They don’t even know what I’ve done, and still, they know I’m the bad guy.

I guess it’s what I deserve.

“Yes, I’m fucking dangerous,” I growl, grabbing the man in front of me by the collar. “You want a piece of me? I’m a fucking monster, right? Look at me!” I yell. Then I throw him to the ground again. “Take a good look, everyone! That’s right; I’m a fucking monster. Now, leave me the fuck alone!” I yell.

The whole street seems to have grown quiet, except for me.

I’m breathing loudly, blood rushing through my veins as I come to the realization that nothing will ever be the same again.

My life among the people is over. They won’t accept me the way I am.

So I pull my hood back over my head and start walking, determined to live out my life in the shadows.

Like a real monster would.





Chapter 5





Alexis





Morning





I wake up with salty tears streaked across my face in a bed that smells of roses and expensive perfume. Its softness surprises me, but when I don’t hear Alisha’s snoring, I feel gutted. My stomach growls, but I turn over and bury my face in my pillow.

Closing my eyes helps me remember her, and I picture her waking up, yelling my name, and telling me to get a real job.

I smile. Then another tear escapes.

My sister’s voice resonates in my ears. Don’t you fucking cry, Alexis. Don’t fucking miss me… Just get out. She doesn’t even need to be there for me to feel her presence.

So I push myself up from the bed and brush the tears away. It’s time to accept what I’ve done and get over it. First, I need to get out of this room, and then … maybe I can find a way to get out of this house.

I wonder if he’ll keep me here forever.

If so, I’ll just have to escape.

Then again, if he has pity me … he might set me free.

I shake my head … pity is just not my style.

I contemplate picking up the only chair in my room and throwing it at the glass, but then I remind myself that it would only land me in jail, which is the last thing I want. If I can’t escape without getting charged with something, I’ll have to figure out a way to make him release me. Play to his feelings. Yeah, that’s right. Except right now, I only want to punch his face in. But I guess that won’t do me good.

Suddenly, someone knocks on my door, and I’m pulled from my thoughts.

“Miss? Are you awake yet?”

It takes me a few seconds to reply. “Yes.”

The door is unlocked, and a familiar head pops in. “Hope you slept well.”

“Like a princess,” I say, frowning, trying not to show any emotion.