Sunday, July 24, 2011

Crab Mentality [1st Part]

May 28, 2010. 2am
   Cold, evening winds were blowing on her. Aylyn was lying on her side, her back turned to Rando. The 20-year-old Rando was lying on his back, asleep. They were on the ground, with only a thin blanket between them and the soil. They were underneath a tiny shed that was supported by four, thin poles. The shed had no walls. They had no tent, nor pillows. Rando was wearing a black T-shirt, with a red, hooded jacket over it. He was wearing black pants and black sneakers. The 17-year-old girl was wearing a small T-shirt, denim pants, and dark-brown sneakers. Rando was tall and lean, while she was petite and skinny. Rando had given her a blue blanket before he lay down to sleep. They had a couple of knapsacks.
   He was a painter. Even though he had had a quiet hobby, he had often got into fights. He'd dropped out of school early in his teens. His parents, who were lawyers, hated the life that he had chosen. A long-haired, ragged-looking young man who had caught the eye of the brown-haired teenager with the child-like face, he was absolutely disliked by Aylyn's father. He decided to run away in search of a better life in the city. Aylyn was going with him at all costs. Because she loved him.
   "I'd promised myself that I'd bring you to this beautiful place once I got you to come along with me," he had told her before he fell asleep that night. The shed was sixteen meters from the road, far behind the houses of this neighborhood. It was in the open area of the woods. He had been here before.
    The blanket wasn't enough. She was in a curled position, her knees near her chin. She was beginning to tremble uncontrollably as the tall trees around them swayed in the cold winds. The rustling sound of the leaves kept the place alive under the clear, evening sky.
   He had driven their car for miles all day, and he was absolutely tired. They would be back on the road tomorrow. In a cold night like this, it's lovely to think that I have company. She turned to him. A pair of black rubber shoes near his head. She looked up. A man. She sat up. Reached over to wake Rando up. Too late. The man swiftly grabbed Rando's arms. Rando opened his eyes, and began to struggle. Her instinct was to get Rando, but that would be stupid. It would just allow the man to catch both of them. Frightened, she ran away, but she couldn't leave Rando.
   She stood three meters from the man, begging, "Free him, sir, please."
   Rando was trying to break free, but the man was too strong. He turned Rando around before him, so that the young man faced Aylyn. And he held Rando's hands together from behind.
   Rando suddenly kicked behind him with his right foot, which hit the man's right knee. The man lost his balance. Both of them fell to the ground, the man on top of Rando. "Damn you, fool," he snapped, and hit the right side of Rando's waist with his fist.
   Lying on his belly with his hands still held together behind him, Rando raised his head to look at Aylyn, shouting, "Run, Aylyn!"
   Aylyn was too scared to move.
   Rando shouted louder, "Hurry, stupid!"
   Their cellphones were in their knapsacks, but there was no time to pick them up. She ran under the moonlight and into the shadows of the trees.There were tall  grasses ahead of her. She ran through them. Then she slowed down until she stopped. It felt so bad to leave him, and be the only one in safety. But she had to look for help.
   A flash lit up the trees and the grasses from behind her. She heard Rando screaming. She ran back to where she had left him. Then she stopped in shock. She saw him. Six meters away. In flames. He kept screaming as he quickly burned. It was fast. And he was gone.
   Her jaw dropped, but she couldn't find her voice. She stood staring at the flames, frozen in a grip of different emotions. The man came running toward her. She would be next. You have taken my love, I cannot live any longer. But fear took over her. She turned to run for the road.
   She was so scared, that she didn't notice the ground below her. She just had to get away, get away. The man was a fast runner. He. Was. Catching up. He threw something at her. She began screaming. A blinding light flashed.

May 28, 2010
    His blue, Converse sneakers left deep prints on the white sand as he carefully walked toward the beach. He stopped abruptly. Because his beige, cargo pants shouldn't get wet. Chalano was a skinny 15-year-old. His straight, jet black hair was a bit long; it made him look a little like a member of The Beatles.
   The weather had been bad all summer. It became fair only on his last day on this beach. His orange T-shirt was as bright as the day. The waves were splashing on the shore five feet from him. He and his mother would be traveling back to the city soon, and it was his last chance to cherish the scenery. If he ever felt totally bored at home this year, he would remember the day when he stood on this place. That would cheer him up. He raised his left hand to look at his black, Casio wristwatch. 4:00pm. He had only a few minutes left.
   He couldn't decide which was more blue, the sea or the sky? The sun seemed to be burning his skin and the waves sounded so soothing to the ears, but he turned away from the beach. He began walking away from the shore.
   A loud noise behind him. He looked back. The waves were rushing toward him. He ran to avoid them. The waves gently touched the back of his shoe then slid back into the sea. "The waters are calling out to you," a voice whispered.
   Startled, he looked to the left. No one. To the right. No one. A person had to be standing close to him to whisper like that. He was the only one on that part of the beach. In fact, all the people were more than three meters away. John must be right, I hear voices. He shook his head a bit, and continued walking away from the beach.
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