Dancing, gliding on ice. Do you ever stop to marvel at the idea? The fact people play sports while gliding on blades over a frozen solid rink? I wonder if people are used to it, as we are used to roller skating. I do not understand the world outside my own, even if i want to. The thought of the cold seems wonderful, when i sit here in the scorching sun on a january morning. What luxury it must be to live in a place where ice skating is even possible. Though i guess the same could be said for living with alligators.
A red dot appeared on Travis’s chest, and on instinct he was moving behind cover before the shot can reach him.
He was never a fan of his younger brother’s twisted sense of humor.
People panic when a bullet shatters the glass of some store display, the commotion blending with the ringing in Travis’s ears. His breath shallow and skin clammy, he can only wait hoping Cas had already fled from police.
“Would you say the suspect has any sort of connection to you or your family?” The officer rehearsed, with an expression that said he had already done this twenty times today.
“No, i don’t know the man personally. I just know i’ve seen him around the area acting like he’s capable of making a wikihow on ten different ways to smoke crack,” He answers with that trademark New Jersey bluntness.
Despite the situation, the officer manages to crack an amused smile at travis’s colorful description. The smile is gone just as quick as it appeared when the seasoned cop presses further
“Is there any reason someone may want to harm you or your family?”
“My father’s in prison for a lotta things, he pissed more than a few people off in his lifetime. But i don’t got specifics, and the list is longer than my—,”
“I get the point, mister Morozov. Just contact us if something new pops up.”
Travis fixes his long ebony hair as he exits the police station, eyes darting back and forth across the faces passing by. He can’t help but wonder if Cas is here, stalking him, playing with his head. Travis couldn’t tell the police the truth about Casper, about the boy hidden in the attic.
Even when trying to focus his thoughts elsewhere, all he can think about are those dark blue eyes filled with horror and fear.
It wasn’t anyone’s fault what happened to them. Travis did what he could, leaving to join the military and taking the boy with. It was the only way they’d escape their father. He tried to help Casper, they were brothers after all. But he was beyond help, and everyone knew it. Travis should have never snapped at him like that, said those harsh words. Alerted the enemy.
Indirectly causing the explosion that turned the only family he knew into bits and pieces of unrecognizable flesh. Red visceral horror floods the room until travis feels as if he’s drowning in it. Clawing for a way out, his head surfaces the water with a sharp painful gasp.
He fell asleep in the tub again. His mind still reeling from the dreams that quickly fade into oblivion, he tries to remember how he got there. Was he shot at? Was the officer he spoke to real? He got his answer when his eyes were drawn to the foreign yellow sticky note on the bathroom wall. A singular red dot inked in the middle. There was a fine line between a game and a trap, and the brothers walked on opposite sides of it like two spiders on a kiliedascope web.
Violence
The hardwood floor was chilled by the winter air. It was uncomfortable, but it meant safety. Travis never liked the feeling of warm floors against his feet, it made him look down every five seconds to make sure he wasn’t standing in fresh pools of blood. But the cold wasn’t enough to ease Travis’s mind tonight, not when Casper was back in town.
It took hours before Travis had succumbed to exhaustion, his body on high alert almost as default. Sounds of movement pulled him out of what could have been a peaceful sleep, making Travis get up with weapon in hand. The living room was lit up with an uncomfortable nostalgic orange light, and his father dead on the table. Cas was here, he did this, set this up.
Travis’s panic was pushed to the back of his mind when the white light of day peeked in through the curtains, the bed uncomfortably hot. These nightmares are becoming a pain in the ass.
“You’re late,” was what Travis expected to hear. Instead, he got silence as the whole office watched the news. A shooting at the downtown strip mall, closing down the area. This must be so shocking for them to see, Travis just can’t help but feel contempt for these coddled rich bastards.
“New to violence?” The words leave his mouth with not as much sugarcoating as he probably should have used.
“Save it, Morozov, someone could have gotten real hurt out there,” Cat chided from behind the receptionist desk. As much as Travis wanted to look down upon her sympathetic nature, he knew deep down that his own lack of compassion was why everyone around him got hurt. Not to mention he relied on Cat’s compassion to keep her from saying that out loud.
Bang!
It sounded like someone dropped a dumpster off a five story building. It shook the whole office— in both a figurative and literal sense. Everyone rushed for cover, hoping wherever that sound came from, that their friends and family weren’t anywhere near it.
Only travis hoped Cas was near it. Near enough to be killed, or caught before anyone else got hurt.
“Everyone else can do it. Even Will, who had a sprained ankle can do it. So why can’t you?”
The words from my peers were spoken with annoyance, which i interpreted as disdain. Looking down from the big slide, my chest felt like it was caving in on itself at the thought of jumping. I couldn’t go home until i jumped. With every second i clung to the colorful metal poles holding up the friendly looking playground i was slowly tarnishing the image my peers held of me. It wasn’t that far down, even if i landed wrong the pain won’t be permanent. But the instinctual shunning of the weak will not fade as quickly. Before i can allow my mind to protest, i throw myself off the slide and onto the ground. The sturdy concrete hurt my hands i use to help land, but it wasn’t as bad as i feared. The tears i didn’t even realize had been flowing left my face feeling drier than before. I did it, and despite the annoyance that never left the faces of people i had previously assumed to be my friends, i see it positively. It could have been worse, i could have waited longer, made them angry enough to speak about it rather than give me a dirty look as they are now.
“Act like an adult. She is three years younger than you, and yet you are the one crying”
Words that sting worse than glares hit me like a bus. My boss is doing his job, he is stressed and just trying to get through the day. He has every right to be annoyed. I cannot please everyone nor can i do everything perfectly every time. I cannot hide from the judgement and disdain. There is no reward for pushing yourself off the slide, no matter how high you are or how hard you hit the ground. Your reward is being grateful the people you inconvenienced were kind enough to put up with how long you waited to jump.
I will never leave that playground, scared and trying only to please others. I press my hands onto the hot stove top, the white hot pain surging through me is almost peaceful compared to the slight sting of concrete. I will forever be skinning my palms and knees for someone else.
Do not act surprised when i throw myself face first to the ground, the pain i give myself is a million times better than the pain and humiliation of every waking moment on that playground slide.
