Page 50 of The Devil Within

PART THREE

“No man knows till he has suffered from the night how sweet and dear to his heart and eye the morning can be.”- Bram Stoker

TWENTY-EIGHT

Luke

Animal I Have Become by Three Days Grace

15 Years Ago

Light peaks in through the small windows high above as dawn begins to break. It’s barely enough light to be noticeable, but I’ve trained my body to react instantly to the light. I need to be up and out of here early before anyone comes in and catches me sleeping here on the cold floor.

I stretch out my body and groan as every sore piece of me rebels against the movement. Sleeping on the cold tile floor of the locker room isn’t comfortable but it’s better than the alternative. I swing open the metal locker slowly, making sure to be as quiet as I can just in case there is someone who has decided to come in extra early today. I grab the small bag stashed at thebottom of the locker and walk over to the row of sinks lining the far wall. Pulling out the few toiletries I have, I go to brush my teeth, but the toothpaste tube is beyond empty.

Fuck.

This, plus the lack of clean clothes left, means I’ll have to return to my room soon and restock. Hopefully I can manage to sneak into my foster home in the next few days while no one is there. I’ll have to ditch school and wait until my foster mom leaves to get groceries while everyone else is at work or school. I just need five minutes to sneak in and grab some fresh clothes and toiletries without getting caught. It’s a miracle the Davis’ even leave my room stocked; I figured they would have thrown out my shit long ago. I guess this way they know I have to return to the hell house they call a home.

I wet my barren toothbrush and at least scrub my teeth before changing into the last pair of passably clean clothes I have. It’s a bit too cold today for the lightweight shirt and dilapidated jeans I slip my skinny ass into, but it’s the only thing I have that I haven’t already worn this week and isn’t disgustingly dirty. The flimsy fabric won’t really keep me warm enough outside, but hopefully I’ll only have to wait out there briefly before I can sneak back into the school building for breakfast. The thought of warm food elicits a deep rumble from my stomach. I’d be embarrassed if I wasn’t the only person around. The last meal I had was the free school lunch of pizza and some fruit yesterday afternoon, but I’ll have to hold out for a few more hours until they start serving up breakfast.

I’d kill for a warm shower right now but I can’t risk someone hearing the water; I’ll have to wait until the end of gym class to wash. Most kids clean off and run out of the gym, our last period of the day, as quickly as they can. But I stay and savor it. I’m one of the few kids not running out of the building as quickly as possible when that last bell of the day goes off.

I’ve been hiding out in the school the last few weeks. I hang out around town after school until it’s late enough for most to have left the grounds, then I sneak back in through the side door that the gym teacher leaves open for his smoke breaks. I hide out inside the locker room until it gets dark enough to get some rest, then I use my gym clothes as a pillow and sleep on the floor. I wake up each morning before anyone arrives and sneak out the same side door, hiding out back until the school officially opens. It’s not comfortable or fun, but at least it’s safe. I’d rather be uncomfortable and hungry, than broken and bruised. Occasionally, I stay with my best friend Garett at his house, but I can’t have his mom catching on and asking too many questions. Plus, she’s a single mom. I know she can’t afford another mouth to feed.

Stuffing all my shit back in my locker, I close it and head out of the locker room toward the side door in the back of the gym hallway. I make sure to close it every evening after I sneak back in to avoid any issues. Pushing it open, the cold air hits me in the face immediately. Shit, it’s much colder than I anticipated today. It’s going to be a long couple of hours outside in this frigid air waiting for the school to officially open. My dark brown hair is overgrown and flops against my eyes as the wind whips it around my face.

Hiking my school backpack up on my shoulder, I put my head down to avoid the wind and push forward. I just need to make it out to my favorite tree around the other side of the building, then I can sit and try to do some of my homework before the school day begins and I can grab a warm meal inside. Another gust blows against me and my body shivers from the chill. It’s going to be a long and cold few hours.

When I finally reach the large oak past the soccer fields, I let out the breath I’ve been holding in. Maneuvering around to the far side of the tree in an attempt to hide from the bitter chill, Ithrow myself to the ground and slide down the trunk. The rough bark slips against each vertebra of my bony back. I’ve never been a big kid. When you don’t know one of your biological parents, your genes are a fun guessing game. I remember wondering if I’d hit puberty and suddenly explode into a tall wall of muscles. I imagined myself dwarfing my bullies and pummeling them into the ground the same way they’d been beating the crap out of me since elementary school. Unfortunately, I got the height but not the bulk. Poor nutrition and stress means I’m more skin and bones and less wall of badass muscle. I am a gangly, pathetic, weirdo who wears the same clothes more often than is socially acceptable. The other kids have ostracized me. With the exception of Garett, I’ve become a complete fucking friendless loser. And don’t even get me started on girls. As much as I fantasize about them, none of them have ever even bothered to look in my direction.

I pull out my math book from my backpack and the worksheet I was assigned yesterday. I’m not a great student. I try, don’t get me wrong. I have plans, and they involve me getting the fuck out of the shit hole town and making a life for myself. I know I need good grades to not only get into college but also to get the scholarships I’ll need in order to pay for college. I come from nothing, like lower than fucking dirt. Unknown dad and a junkie piece of shit mom. Kids like me are charity cases that some colleges will take if they know we are willing to work hard, which I definitely am. I’m not afraid of hard work if it means safety and security. I learned long ago that no one’s going to take care of me other than myself, and that’s what I intend to do. Things have just been extra shitty lately, and my grades are suffering because of it.

“There’s our pal Lucky Lucas!”

Shit.

With the wind blowing intensely I didn’t even hear themapproaching. I’m so sick of them. I just want them to leave me the fuck alone for once. Even for just one day. But they won’t. They never leave me the fuck alone.

“Whatcha’ doing there Lucky Lucas?” Brody asks as he sneers at me down his perfectly straight nose.

Brody and his pack of goons are my least favorite people to run into here. He’s a blonde haired, blue-eyed, pretentious piece of shit. His family owns several businesses around town and they’re loaded. I don’t think Brody’s ever wanted for anything in his entire life. He has everything anyone could ever want. Every. Fucking. Thing. You think someone like that would be content, happy. But Brody is a complete asshole. He spends most days trying to make my life more miserable than it already is. The universe has already dealt me a pile of utter shit for a life, why he needs to try to make it worse at the one place I feel safe is beyond me.

“Math.” I don’t look up. I mumble down into my chest, praying they’ll just leave me alone and walk away. But they never walk away.

“You waiting out here until they open so you can be first in line for food, you poor as fuck piece of shit?” Wyatt, the stupidest of the gang asks as he lightly kicks at my knee. He’s an absolute moron but he’s also huge. His neck alone is thicker than my waist.

“Maybe he lives here,” Marcus adds as the rest snicker. I can feel my cheeks burst into flames as the truth of his words hits me. I panic for a minute thinking that they know where I’ve been sleeping. “His whore of a mother certainly can’t have him hanging out in her trailer while she sells herself for five bucks a pop.”

They all get a laugh out of that one. My mom may be a junkie and a shitty ass mom, but as far as I know, she was never a whore. Even if she was, listening to her get fucked, and then getfucked up, would be preferable to the hell that I was placed in after being removed from her care.

“Don’t talk about my mom,” I mumble into my chest, but they don’t hear me.

“No, don’t you remember, his mom is such a piece of shit that the state removed Lucky Lucas here from her care. Now he gets to live with Will and his parents.” I keep my eyes and head lowered in submission but I can feel Brody hovering over me, assessing me. “Isn’t that right?”

“Oh shit, that’s right!” Kyle, the fourth and final member of their gang adds. “Fuck, Will is such a badass. What a shame he got stuck with stupid ass Lucky Lucas mooching off his family. They deserve a huge payout from the state for having to deal with your sorry ass!”

Yeah, my foster brother, Will, has a reputation for being very cool among everyone here. He was a star athlete when he went here, and now goes to college across town but lives at home. He’s going to take over his father’s successful real estate firm one day. He still shows up at all the high school parties and games, bringing booze and weed with him. They all worship him like a fucking god. But no one even questions why a man in his twenties, who’s off at college, is still hanging out with underage kids. No one cares to look beneath the mask; all too afraid to expose the monster.

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