Page 55 of Run

“H? Hedeon, what’s wrong?”

I know it’s Lily, but I don’t recognize her. It’s not her, even though it is. It’s my mother, with her bloodied face and her slit throat. She’s gurgling out my name for me to help her, but there’s nothing I can do.

I’m screaming in my own head, or am I? Am I screaming out loud? I must be. The face below me flickers, and it’s Lily again. She’s scared. I’m doing something to frighten her again. She’s going to run away now. She’ll be gone just like the only other woman in my life. They all leave me.

I can’t breathe, I can’t see right, I can’t hear anything except my heart hammering in my ears and the sounds of the night I watched my mother die at the hands of that ghost that I disposed of this morning.

“Ha!.. This morning. So long ago, but not. So much has happened.”

I’m talking to myself like a maniac, losing my ever-loving mind. I can barely hear my words, but she can, and she’s afraid. She’s frozen beneath me, her head bleeding, her eyes becoming vacant… Wait, those aren’t her eyes, they’re the wrong color.

“Mother, mom!” I scream pushing away from the bloodied face below me, tripping on the pants around my knees.

I’m panicking. I can see her and hear her choking on her own blood, I can smell it so thickly in the air. I have to get out of here. “Run H, run.” Mother cries out to me, and this time I listen.

Chapter Thirty

The front storm door bangs closed behind me as I tear out of the house like my ass is on fire. I’m leaving poor Lily on the kitchen counter to fend for herself, and to take care of her head wound. I can’t be in there, not with my mother yelling at me in my head to run.

“Run H. Hedeon run!” She cries out, forcing me further and further from the house. I’m in just a pair of sweatpants with sneakers, and the air is cool since sundown, but I don’t care. I have to get away.

The grass is wet with dew under my feet, and my sneakers slip and slide as I bolt through the yard to the only thing that can save me. My bike. Still laying on her side in the marble courtyard, she calls me to her.

Ride, Hedeon. Ride as fast and as far as you can. Let me scream for you.

I can hear her, she’s my salvation, my way to clear my head, to escape, and I need to get to her.

I run past the reptilian guardians at the entrance, their little black eyes watching me in the dark, their gold tongues licking out at me as I dart between them. The bushes scrape me and the tree roots that poke though the ground grab at my feet like hands from the underground, trying to stop me. I runthough, as fast as I can, trying uselessly to escape the visions that follow behind me.

Useless, always useless. Just like when you were a kid. A spoiled rotten kid.

She’s right where I left her, almost hard to see in the dark, with her black paint blending in with the night. But even if she were invisible I would still find her. She’s the only woman in my life that will never leave me, never die, never disappear in a puddle of blood. I can always buy more parts for her, repair her, make her new again, unlike the females in my life that breathe air and eat food. The gas guzzler on the ground will only ever be there for me, feasting on petrol and my unlimited supply of money, all of which I would put into her without complaint if needed.

“Up and at ‘em.” I say as I turn my back to her, grab her and use my legs to lift her up, putting her on her kickstand.

It’s stupid to ride with no gear, and barely any clothes, but I don’t give a flying fuck as I swing my leg over her and turn the key that still dangles in place. The bike fires up with a push of the ignition switch, the cold start taking three cranks before she catches and roars to life.

The immediate feeling of her vibrating between my thighs is already calming, almost grounding me as I kick up the stand, tap my foot to bring her into gear, then take off through the courtyard.

The dogs, minus Magnolia, chase behind me barking and baying, a pack of beasts just like their master, riding through the yard towards the driveway without a care if the bike goes down again in the wet grass. I’ll just pick her up again, brushoff my wounds and continue on. The pain will do me some good anyways.

Pain, that’s what I need. Physical pain is the best way to alleviate the mental anguish sometimes. Like getting a tattoo can be therapy for a fucked-up mindset, riding hard, and even going down can be just as euphoric. The feeling of the road rash and broken bones can center you, show you what life feels like in the real world, and not just the sick shit in your head.

The tires skid on the slick green carpet, the bike pulling left than right, following a wheel that can’t grip on the dampness with as fast as I’m pushing it. Not until I hit the hardened dirt of the driveway does it catch and lurch me forward, picking up speed. The seat jostles and bumps under my ass as I take it over the petrified ruts that haven’t been reshaped in weeks. There have been no bodies transported in the truck to mold them differently since I brought Lily home with me against her will.

That’s what you need, just like the dogs. You need a kill. Bring something home, take it to the cellar, and do what you always do when life becomes full of too much shit. There’s plenty of whores and criminals to pick from. Do it. Do it. Do it!

“No!” I scream into the air that whips across me like a slap to the face.

Yes. Bring home a gift for Lily. She’s as fucked up as you, you know. That’s why she’s still here, why she didn’t run when given the chance. You knew it the first time you heard her cries of ecstasy in the club. You knew she was just like you.

“Fuck you!”

I crank the throttle and kick the shifter up with my foot, going faster towards the gate that leads to the world outside my compound. The wind rips at my skin, metaphorically peeling theflesh from my body, cutting me into pieces as the metal barrier slides open and I rocket out onto the street, not bothering to look for oncoming traffic.

Horns blare and tires squeal on the asphalt, but the impact doesn’t come. There is no crash, no pain, just an annoying screeching of the cars avoiding me as I turn right and speed away, leaving them behind me. It’s almost depressing that I’m still up on two wheels. The crash and burn would have been nice.

I race down the road, the sound of the world flying by so loud in my ears, but still it doesn’t drown out the cackling laughter of my father, the screams of my mother, and the bellowing of the monster inside of me. It’s a battle in my head that’s leaking down into my heart. The heart in my chest that I thought was a hard rock, frozen in time from that day when I was nine.

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