Chapter Inspiration: What Are You So Scared Of? - Tonight Alive


I let out a deep breath. The exhale shaky as it passed my lips. My back pressed flat against my door as I sat in the darkness, silently waiting for my dad to go to bed so I could slip away. I looked at my feet as they were extended out in front of me. The large backpack sat holding the few things of value I weighed significant enough to bring and everything else I needed in everyday life. My phone sat on my made up mattress. Off. I’d reach out to them when I was ready to. If that time ever came.

At the time I was so sure that this was what was best. But it wasn’t for another two hours that the house went dark. My father’s heavy footsteps stalking up the stairs. The clatter of ice against the glass filled with whisky. The opening of his bedroom door followed by a sigh and the click of it shutting. It wasn’t bad enough that everyone that was around when it happened was affected, but now my dad, my own father, had to go to bed at night knowing his only daughter betrayed his trust and immediately paid the price.

It wouldn’t be for another fifteen minutes that I would slip out of my bedroom. The backpack pinned to my chest as I tiptoed to the end of the hall. My body pressing to the wall as I slid down the stairs, my feet inched against the drywall as to avoid the creaking of the steps. A trick I had learned well. I released the breath I had been knowingly holding in as I stepped out onto the porch. The door shutting with a light click as I held the handle in place, letting it shut before releasing the latch to avoid as much noise as possible.

After back stepping down the walkway I stood at the edge of the sidewalk. Much like I had done my first day back. My eyes scanning over my old white house. I don't know if I stopped to make sure no lights flicked on, or if I stopped waiting for one to do just that. I don't know if I was hoping a light would illuminate from inside the long house and I would be dragged back inside, a last and final sign that I belonged here.

That would never come.

I sighed shaking my head as I slung the straps of my backpack over there respectable shoulders and spun on my toes. The whole time I had thought I was doing what was best. What was needed. Never had I once thought how people would react to me skipping town. Again.

Not until I looked up at the maroon house I found so comforting just hours before.

Alex. Alex sat on his porch steps. His elbows digging into his knees as he pressed the heels of his palms desperately into his hollow eyes. It wasn’t till I saw the slight quiver of his shoulders and a sharp intake that I knew he was crying. And I knew I was right.

But maybe if I had watched my feet and not my house I would have noticed my lose lace. Maybe if I had watched my step and not my neighbor I would have noticed the crack that had somehow become a gaping hole in the sidewalks crust that night. My breath caught in my throat as I laid in the darkness beyond the street. My face buried in the ice coated concrete as the fear of moving a muscle filled my bones. I knew if I moved I would bring more attention from my neighbor across the street. And to think I was so close to being gone. I couldn’t even leave without fucking up. Could I really do nothing right?

I tried my hardest to hear over the sound of my own breathing and the pounding of my heart. But even with the greatest of efforts I couldn't hear the hitch in Alex's silent sobs. Weather I knew it or not. I was caught. I lied on the ground for a few moments as the icy pins crawled up my body and to my heart the longer I lied on the cold damp sidewalk. Maybe, I though he couldn’t see my figure as I blended with the freshly fallen snow. That he'd get nervous and go back in the house. But what I hadn’t thought of was my back pack. The metal tabs of the zippers catching the glare of the dim yellow haze from the single street light. The bulk of its mass and its chunky shape. I froze over as I listened.

The shift on wood. Converse on concrete. The slip of a sneakers soul on ice. The puff of air into clasped hands to thaw fingers. The blood pouring through my veins as it swirled to my ears and my heart crashed against my rib cage with every beat. No way was I getting caught. No way had I come that far to throw in the towel with a, 'well maybe next time'. No way was I staying. No way was anyone else getting hurt.

'Fuck it' I thought as I slowly clambered to my feet. The only thought to make a clean dash for the center of town was all that crossed my mind as my feet smacked the pavement. I leaped over the small snow mound to hit the road knowing well it was better salted then the sidewalk would ever be. The distant call of my name in realization that I was indeed the figure that had bolted from the scene. But I wasn't stopping. I wasn't staying. I had run to turn back once already and there was no turning back now. I’d be fine. I was never looking back, I was never going back. I was never planning on stopping at all.

I also never planned for an imperfectly timed bus.

I was fucked.

Panic instantly setting in as I looked around. I knew he had followed. And I knew he'd be scared. He knew that if I left, Rian would be in shambles, or so Alex thought. Alex only had the band's interest in mind, but if he were to be realistic, if I had stuck around, I would have probably ruined that to.

Within moments the bus arrived. Where to? I don't know. And honestly, I didn't care. I didn't care if it was two streets down or two states over. Anything to get me away from there. I slipped into the empty bus as the doors clamped shut behind me. The bus shifting into gear as I slipped into a seat. My eyes looking out onto the sidewalk where I had previously stood. The bus began to roll forward when the engine roared back to life with a greater force and pulled from the curb. With one last glance I looked out to kiss my old life behind knowing well it was an overdue event. My eyes instantly falling to a black blur as it ran alongside the bus.

Fear ripped through my gut as a pure instinct to vomit took its toll as I looked down on him. His wide frantic eyes that were puffy and red pleading up at me as he yelled. His fists pounding on the cold, slick metal as he began to struggle to keep up with its slowly increasing pace. The noise was drowned out by the rumble of the engine and the flavored Latin American song that poured from the few speakers that appeared to work.

Alex quickly began to fall behind as I rose to my feet. His pounds and pleas were continuing to go unheard by me, and unnoticed by the driver. My body meeting his as he fell to the back window of the bus. I dropped to my knees as he pounded at the low glass window. Tears pouring from his eyes and he knew I was done. My hand lifted to press to the glass as he struggled to do the same. Soon enough he stopped. He could no longer keep up and tripped to try. My hand moving from the glass to see the two foggy prints, two friends from one time finding themselves on separate sides of the same sheet of glass. I could return. I could go to school, and the boy’s gigs. I could party. I could do it all. But I was on the other side of the glass. Able to see and hear everything that was happening, but never again being able to fully be a part of it.

* * * * *

Annapolis. Annapolis, Maryland was where the bus driver would stop. It was just 50 minutes from the county, far enough away, but close enough for comfort. The bus would pull up to a small 24 hour café on the street corner, just a stone’s throw from the piers before I would get off. The bus driver scared me half to death when his clammy hand pawed at my arm.

"You ain't no runaway kid right?" The older male asked eying my backpack as I slipped it over my free shoulder, "you ain't running from home are you?" He elaborated as if my features were signifying I had no idea what he was try to say, as opposed to the reality of it and that I was simply avoiding the truthful answer.

"Timonium isn't my home." I would answer flatly before tugging a single time and stepping off the bus.

I looked around and a gush of air was pushed from the bus as it began to pull from the curb. My eyes wandering the streets of brick buildings and the salty tang of the ocean as it floated through the air. Readjusting the second strap of my bag I ignored the confused looks of the locals at the obvious teen that still didn't belong and pushed open the glass door of the coffee shop.

My eyes searching the dim café as I approached the glass counter. Searching for familiar faces I knew weren't there. Ordering my beverage I again gained a questioning look as the elderly woman much older than I at the time abandoned her place to make my drink none the less. Even if I looked like I was running away, who were any of them to judge that it was a home I was running from? I simply could no longer live a life that hadn’t been mine for two and a half years. It was understandable. But still, the look of uncertainty remained on the woman's face as she returned with my drink and silently allowed the exchange of money between the two of us allowing me to back away without another word.

The coffee shop was warm, and sweet. The space filled with the lingering scent of caramel and hazel nut. The faux brick walls giving it a forced rugged look that was intended for. The chocolate colored leather that covered the couches and booths was worn and made no sound as my weight slowly sank into its place. My knees coming up to hug my chest. I wasn’t sure what to feel. The absence of all guilt that no longer panged at my hearts core any time I looked at my friends. Or the now seemingly ever present feeling of being alone. A feeling so strong it was almost a physical cripple to my being.

That would be the debate that would weigh my mind down for the next seven hours as I watched the moon slowly dip behind the building tops and the stars get slowly swallowed by puffs of clouds. The night bleeding endlessly to another day. I had not a blink of sleep that night as my position remained fixed and I pulled at the skin around my fingernails, occasionally causing small drops of blood to form before moving onto the next digit. All while I sat the little old lady would stand behind her counter and presumably wonder where I had come from or better more, why was I there. The question was left to burn a whole in her pocket until her shift had come to an end and the graying elder shuffled to fetch her keys. Another employee entering to take the place at the counter, my presence unnoticed by the figure as it wandered into the back room.

It wouldn’t be till the old lady wandered to the door that I pried my eyes from the window to meet her pleading ones. The woman sighed and maneuvered the few scattered chairs as she abandoned her route home and found herself in front of me. "You not from around here are you?" She asked in a small voice as she placed her hand on the top of the parallel booth seat. My eyes slipping up the seat to meet her worn hazel eyes that had seen more of the world then I ever thought I would. "You want my advice?" She asked sliding into the booth. Her single car key being placed on the table top as she took her place. The woman sighed before she would lean forward, my eyes avoiding hers to look back out the window before she would speak up again, "go home..."

The statement causing my eyes to fall to the table with a subtle shake of the head, "that’s no longer an option." I informed her before she'd lean back to look at my ever shrinking form.

"And why not?" She would ask to get no answer, "look," she sighed leaning forward again, "I’ve been in your shoes, trust me, but nothing that happened at home could possibly be worth sleeping in this booth live you've done."

"I wouldn’t even know where to begin..." I spoke up, never lifting my eyes from the table.

"Here’s a place..." She whispered, "There’s got to be at least one person you wish you spoke to before leaving, call them."

* * * * *

Back in Baltimore, Alex stood in my living room, pacing back and forth. The band, Cass, Andrea, Matt, and Marc had all gathered that morning after Alex had woken my family with his frantic knocking late into the night. His eyes still swollen and red as the constant memories of my last leaving and all it had caused wavered through his mind.

"Alex..." Cass called out in a small voice hardly catching his attention but enough to know he heard her, "what are you planning on doing when he gets here?" She questioned, her voice growing so small as the words progressed you would have thought she was leaving the room.

"WHAT AM I GOING TO DO!?" Alex would snap looking over at her. His blackened orbs drilling holes through her own as the sweet girl rubbed circles into my sobbing brothers spine, "WHAT AM I GOING TO DO?" Alex repeated, thoroughly enraged by the question, "IM GOING TO BEAT THE LIVING SHIT OUT OF HIM FOR WHAT HE DID!"

"Alex..." Zack tested, filling my brother’s shoes as the most sensible member knowing well Rian was too far gone to form a complete thought let alone calm the raging brunette.

"He damn well deserves it..." Matt chimed in from his place on the stairs, far enough away to remain level headed all while still being able to view the scene unfolding through the open entry way.

"Deserves it!" Alex scoffed with a punch for an edge, "this is far overdue!" He growled, ripping his fingers through his matted hair. The boy hadn’t caught a blink of a mattress in the ongoing two days let alone a lick of sleep, only distressing his anger to a greater extent.

"You can’t just beat Riley up Alex..." Zack pleaded rubbing his own hands over his face, "be logistic here."

"DAMN STRAIGHT I CAN, AND I WILL!" Alex yelled turning to his bandmate. Alex was never one to step out of line with his friends or test the limits of their friendships. But that morning Alex had made it clear where he stood, and nothing else mattered to him at that given time. "I can’t believe you'd even think to defend that- that- that scum!" Alex snapped, "HE DAMN WELL AS NEARLY RAPED JASEY AND NOW SHES GONE! WHO THE HELL KNOWS WHERE THAT BUS TOOK HER OR IF SHES SAFE, or hungry, or scared." His voice suddenly failed as he dropped to his knees, letting his hands run over his face, "and I’m not there for her."

"Alex there’s nothing you could do-"

"Again." He finished, gaining a few scattered looks of confusion. "She’s alone and scared and I’m not there for her again, just like Washington, but this time I knew, and I tried... and... and..."

"And it only hurts more." Marc would finally speak up with that statement. His sleeve was tugged over his hand to blot the tears from under his eyes as he looked up. Everyone watched as Marc stood to pull Alex to his feet and have his lanky figure lean on him for the needed support.

"Let him kick the shit out of Riley." Andrea spoke up catching everyone else by surprise. She had remained quiet through the entire ordeal for the first time since meeting her, she was at a loss for words, clearly unsure as to what she was supposed to say or do, "Alex needs to do this as much as Riley deserves it."

And with that, it was decided, unanimous or not. Alex knew he had enough people backing his motives at that point. His plan was set in motion.

His plan: simple. They found my phone in its dormant place where I had abandoned it on my bed and used it to text Riley. Telling him I had forgiven his drunken actions and wanted to talk. Riley, taking the bait as if he was waiting for it. The boy was on his way to my house as the gang gathered in the living room. And almost as if the instant it was decided, the doorbell sounded, the time had come.

Alex quickly finding himself standing on his own and on the way to the door. Rian now attentive to what was about to be laid out around him.

"ALE-" Riley's voice ripped through the house before the taller boy took hold of his collar and threw him against the wall. The group of teens rushing to the hallway to watch it all unfold as Riley slumped to the floor, his body obviously not prepared for the shock it had just taken.

Alex's figure moved slowly as it slumped to hover over Riley. Groans emitted from the blonde boy as he tried to rack together what had just happened. The intense moment ruined by the blaring ringing that rippled from Marc's pocket. The particular boy no longer sure he wanted to view firsthand what Alex had intended as he collected Riley's shirt into a fist, Marc stepping away flicking the phone open. Alex's fist cracking as it was pulled back, a knowing smirk pulling at his lips. Marc pressing the phone to his ear allowing the voice on the other end to flood through the speaker. Marc's mind working as he deciphered the face in which the voice belonged-

"JASEY!?" He yelled for all to hear.

And in that moment, Riley was dropped. Alex stood up. No one knowing what to do.

Notes

DUN DUN DUN!

clearly i decided to take the actual writing style of this chapter in a different direction so im excited to see if you guys like it, or hate it, or dont even care...

SO LET ME KNOW YOUR THOUGHTS ON THAT PLUS WHAT YOUR OPINIONS ARE ON THE LAST FEW UPDATES IN A WHOLE..

do you like it..
do you hate it..
do you not give a shit and it all suck..?

TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK, I WANT TO KNOW!

AND.. sorry for a later update today.. im trying to be better :)

-Sarah