Behind The Alpha Series Book 6 Oliver

EZRA

The town’s quiet. Clean. Not dirty. Not messed like my head. There’s no lost people here.

I wandered around for a bit before I decided I needed to be somewhere other than outside. Outside gets you seen. I need to be somewhere warm.

I come to a house that looks simple enough.

It’s pretty white porch look like home. A thought hits me and I struggle with it. Under the lights of the street, I hear laughter. It tries to make me angry, but I feel another voice. A happy one and a sad one in the happiness, buried deep. What is it?

I look over the house and see a girl. A girl with a reflection of someone I used to know. She runs across the grass with her happy sounds and disappears. I stare down the road where she ran and look confused. Why does this feel like I should know it?

I turn back to the house and walk onto the property. I walk to another side and search for an opening. A door in the back is unlocked.

Quietly, I step in.

‘You want to get caught?’

“They have to feel me first.” I say low as I enter a room with nice colors. Colors I haven’t seen in forever. Colors I try to remember.

A flash in my mind stings. I close my eyes and turn my head.

‘That’s not your purpose’

“Shut up. I’m feeling.” I growl.

The flash of what was once flowers invade my mind and she growls. She eats them and my anger boils.

“STOP EATING MY COLORS!”

‘THEY ARE NOT YOUR PURPOSE!’

“I don’t care. I need to feel them. Please…Just let me feel them.” I whine as I walk up to a door and rest my hand on it.

I hear the silence and think it’s safe to find the colors in my mind. I scratch at it with my fingernail and close my eyes.

The happy smile to the sky. The nose to the flower. The eyes look at my memory.

I open my eyes and look over the door.

“Blue.” I say quietly.

‘You’re not to know that.’

“But…I do…I don’t know where, but I felt this somehow.”

‘We have work. Get moving.’ She growls.

I reluctantly nod and continue to a another room. This room was soft. Had lots of pretty things. Things I don’t get.

I walk around, feeling the soft with my dirt covered hands.

Something catches my eye. I walk over to the people. People behind glass. I pick up a person and see her. I can’t smell her. I try to, but I can’t. I touch her small smile. I want to smile like that, but she won’t let me. She wants me mad. All the time. She wants me to hurt the person behind the glass, but I don’t want to. I have to, to stop the pain in my body. To stop them from beating my brain. She hurts me enough. I don’t need smiles hurting me more.

I put down that person and pick up another. It’s a handsome smile.

Another light hits my mind, forcing me to close them.

‘Frankie, give it back!’

‘You have to catch me! Come on, Ez!’

I open my eyes and look at the brown hair. “Frankie.” I whisper as my fingers touch the handsome smile.

I know that name. Why do I know that name?

I put the person back and walk to the other side of the room. There’s stairs I climb and more blue. Right on the doors. I feel a door to try and make it make sense. My hand drops to a handle. I turn it slowly. It opens to another room that’s soft.

My dirty boots touch the soft, warm floor. I swallow and lights flash in my eyes. I drop my pack and walk around.

I see pictures of music and princesses. I see a color that’s warm and hugs me. I hear the laugh again. My eyes fall to a bed on the floor.

I walk over to it and lay my hand on it and close my eyes as my hand sink in the soft.

A tear falls as I feel the warm. I feel the safe. I feel…the free.

I open my eyes and take back my shaking hand. I feel like I’m looking in a window of a dream. A life that’s not mine, but I want it to be. I stand in my filth and make it sound right.

I look around again. “My room.”

‘What are you doing? You don’t belong.’

“I want to.” My chin quivers.

‘Worms don’t get beds. They get me.’

I wrap my arms around my dirty body and walk to another door.

I open that one and see room that’s hard. Walking in, I feel the cold. The stone feel on counter. I hold a handle and turn it. Water comes out. I lower my head and drink.

I stand up wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.

I stop when I see eyes staring at me. Hurt eyes. Broken, red eyes. My lip trembles as I reach out and its hand reaches out too. Our fingers touch and I smile. I choke a laugh and it laughs too. A tear falls from my eye.

“Hello.” I say and it says it back.

‘Who’s that?’

I look her over. She has dirty hair like me and dirty cheeks, but she smiles and I like that. “A friend?”

‘We don’t have friends, idiot.’

“Yes, we do. Look.” I nod.

‘No. Kill it.’

I furrow my brow. “Why?”

‘Because look at her. She’s sick. Kill it!’

I feel an anger build and suck in a breath. I pull back my fist and she does the same.

‘Kill it!!’

My fist shakes. I don’t want to. It’s my friend. I’m not alone.

‘KILL HER!’

I suck in another deep breath and my eyes catch something behind her.

I turn around and see a smaller room.

I look it over. “I know this.” I walk over and take a look inside.

On the wall is something soft. I feel it and touch it to my skin. My mind flashes and I feel warm, but wet. I feel good. I smell like flowers. The death is gone.

I look to the room and find a handle. I turn it and water falls from the wall. The water is cold, like all water then gets warm. I see the dirt on my hand flow away. I see my hand is different. I like it.

I take off my clothes and step into the water and it feels so good on my skin. The light flashes over and over as I put my head under the water. My heart skips beats as the water runs over my itching skin.

My eyes blink the drops and I see bottles. I reach down, pick one up and inspect it. I open the lid and smell it. My memory window opens and some come in.

I tip the bottle over and put some in my hand.

‘This is wrong.’

“This is me.” I say as I feel the liquid and see the bubbles.

I pour more in my hand and slap my body with it. The dirt and blood fall off and down to the floor. I put some in my hair and get the blood out of it. This feels so good, I want to do it again and again. My memory plays and I follow. I turn off the handle and step out. I see my friend and she looks better. She looks real. She looks…like me. The before me, not the now me.

I like this me or her or me. I’m confused.

I pick up my clothes and smell them. They don’t smell like flowers. They smell bad.

I look to the bedroom and walk into it. I walk to a stand with drawers. Pulling one open, I see soft small clothes. I pull out one and put it on. It feels like I’m not really doing it, but my brain is doing it. Like I have no control.

I open another drawer and pull out a black shirt. I put that on too.

I pull the bottom one and pull out blue jeans. I slip them on. They feel loose, but it’s OK.

I find socks and put my boots back on. My hair is soaked, but it’s fine.

‘Get out.’

I narrow my eyes.

“No.”

‘You are not welcome here. Get out.’

“No. I like here. I want here. You can’t make me go out there. In fact…” I growl as I go to my bag and pull off my chain.

I set up my arm and prepare the Croak. “I’m sick of living your dream window. I want my head back.”

I know I shouldn’t. It hurt me before. The last time I gave myself two Croaks, I fell asleep for a long time. But for a long time, I felt…human. It was half the reason I ran from Michael. I felt better. My bitch was not yelling or eating. She just was. I was just that too. I’m doing it again.

I put the Croak in my veins and crawl up onto the warm bed. I feel the red enter my mind.

I hug the softness and close my eyes. “I want my life back.” I whisper.

‘I’ll kill you first…’ Her voice fades as I feel the swirls and spins of the confusion get swallowed up. The lights flash and bounce behind my eyelids and the sounds of my other voice come through. The psychedelic torture of the murder inside me felt like it was being pushed to a corner and covered.

Things came through. Simple things at first. The bridges were built to more harder things. It feels like all the windows are open by the defiant mind while she screams in the back of it. I’ve knocked her wall down and she hates me for it.

I can push her challenge away and keep her there. I can think for myself and not let her out.

I can finally feel normal as long as I don’t die. If I die, she’ll eat my normal and I'll never get it back. The war is still raging, but this is my own secret against her. If I can keep the croak up before it falls, I can be that smile and I can live.

All I want is to live.

****

“That was a great trip…”

My head pounds as I wake up. The room I’m in is bright. I take a groggy look around.

“I’ll put the bags upstairs. Get dinner started.”

My shoot open and I sit up.

“Shit.” I grab my bag and throw it on my shoulder. I run to the window and open it.

“HEY! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?”

I don’t even look at him. I leap out the window to the lower roof and run along it.

“GET BACK HERE!”

Don’t look back, Ezra. Don’t look back.

I jump to the ground and run as fast as I can. My boots hit the yellow line of the road and my pack bounces on my back as my boots pound the asphalt.

‘Ezra! Don’t run from me!’

I whine as I turn down side streets.

‘You're mine.’

“No.” I breathe and run around another block. My heart pounds not from running, but the sheer terror of the voice chasing me.

‘EZRA!’

“NO!” I sob in fear as I run down the streets to get away.

I turn down an alley with a brick wall end. I run to the back and squeeze myself into a dark, small corner behind some bins. I pull up my knees and cover my face as I cry.

‘Ezra…’

I wipe my eyes and put my head in my arms as the voice that hunts me attacks my ears.

“Leave me alone." I beg through my tears.

I quietly cry as the voice mixes with my confusion and fades back to its nonexistent place. The alley goes silent and my whimpering, quiet words are the only ones softly echoing off the walls.

“Let me live…”

I hitch my breath.

“Please…”