Chasm

Kyle

She left before I could follow her, and I nearly lost her. I feel guilty…no, I can't. It is my job to protect her, and if this means taking her away…but is it for her that I take her away or for me? I have been made her guardian, not her husband. Though I admit I desire her, I fear that her confusion will be furthered if she is left in such company… I couldn't trust myself with her. She is mine, but I must wait. The longer the wait, the more eager the desire to be fulfilled. But if I wait too long, the chance will pass and I'll be left in the dust, bruised and broken once more…no. She is mine. She will be mine…

I think her name, her real name, is Julie. I'm not sure. I will check the records tonight…not that it will matter to me after I have her. Then she will just be Mine…

Julie

I crossed Steve's street and got back onto the main street. Why was I in such an odd mood today? I skated up the street. The hill's incline began to increase as I met an intersection. I crossed and began a small ride down hill. On the right of me there were birds – and across the street, on the left, the sun shone brightly, rising just above the restaurants. A few people wandered in and out of the local grocery store that I passed on the right, but no one that I knew.

Ahead of me, and to the right, stood my friend Jayna in her bright red uniform. She opened the door and disappeared inside the dark restaurant before I could have a chance to wave hello. I continued on, and my wheels slowed. Between the steady increase in incline and the rapid increase in cracks in the sidewalk, I had given up on boarding up the hill. I picked up my board and walked instead. As I walked, I passed a few more houses and a dead pizza place.

Our town is a college town. This means pizza – and lots of it. You can't go a mile in this town without seeing pizza. This small shop, with a half-rotted roof and peeling paint on its siding, was one example of what happened when business wasn't good. The business died.

My legs were beginning to burn. I continued up the hill. On the right side of me now, as I climbed closer to the canal, the landscape started dropping off at an almost vertical slope. Finally, I reached the top and it evened out. Trying not to pant, I stopped for a moment to catch my breath, and moved off to the side. Cars passed me easily, and I took a seat on one of the benches set up.

I pushed those thoughts out of my head. I looked down at the rocks. They were moss covered and slanted downwards into the water, but there were little ducks around them. One flock of the little ducks was being shooed away from me by their mother. She squawked angrily at me and I couldn't help but laugh. Her brown head bobbed at me and she continued nipping at her little ones to shoo them into the water. Obediently, they waddled into the water and swam in a line around in circles. Eventually, after a few more squawks at me, as if to say, "Haha, you suck" the mother duck got into the water and started to swim west.

I sat there for a few more minutes, and eventually cars came and parked in the parking lot, blocking my view. Eager tourists and natives both came to explore the Erie Canal trail. Unlike our ancestors though, they didn't have to walk through mud and weeds and dirt to get to where they wanted. This path was paved – black topped even, for ease. Bikers came, as did walkers with their dogs. All walked by me, as if they didn't even see me. Such was mankind…

I looked across the canal when I had the chance to, and I saw a startling sight. The man, at least, I thought it was the man, who had been chasing us the night before, was across the way. He wasn't staring, but I could feel his eyes on me whenever I looked away and looked back. I squinted – I could barely make out the details. But I was near a bridge…and bridge means he can cross it. And come to my side of the canal…no way in hell.

Standing up, I fought off a wave of tunnel vision and put my board down on the rough terrain. It didn't matter at this point – my adrenaline was up and fight or flight had kicked in. I looked over once more. He was just sitting there, reading the newspaper, not even looking up. But I could feel his eyes drilling holes into me as I skated away west, not looking back once.

I narrowly avoided several animals and their owners as I skated along the path. To let the truth be known, this path was more even and clean cut than the sidewalk was. Wasn't that ironic? They could take care of the damn gravel better than they could their own roads.

Even though I felt slightly safer, my adrenaline levels had risen to the point where I was constantly aware of every small movement in my peripheral vision. I looked back to the southeast, towards where I had seen him. I stopped for a moment, trying to see if he had gone anywhere. He was still sitting there, thank the gods, but instead of reading the paper he was openly staring at me.

I had purple hair anyway. There was no way he could recognize me, because my hair was purple and I had a wife beater on and black and red pants and my skateboard…he hadn’t seen my skateboard. He didn't know who I was. Then why was he staring…?

For lack of an answer, I kept skating. Suddenly, a golden retriever jumped in my path. I immediately put my foot out to stop from running into the dog, though I didn't succeed. Both the dog and I ended up on the ground. But, thankfully, my skateboard ended up in the brush, opposite the canal. I would have died if it had gone into the canal.

A blonde haired, middle-aged woman rushed over to me, and seeing that I was beginning to get up, took a look at her dog. Her dog looked at her, then me, and then her. It cocked its head at me and barked, then got up from underneath me.

The woman glared at me! Of all people, she glared at me! Not her dog! She didn't ask if I was alright, she glared!

"Watch where you're going.” She said, as if I was a bad influence, and finally began jogging off with her dog. I got up and looked at myself. My elbow was cut and my arm was black from spare gravel rubbing on it. When I fell, I had slid a few feet. Where did my other shirt go? I looked down, and saw it on the rocks to my left. I reached down, careful not to trip as I picked it up. I gingerly put it on, feeling it’s cool, softer material soothing my burning skin.

I looked across the canal once more. The man had left, but I didn't honestly care anymore. A dog had just wiped me out. Screw the guy – he couldn't recognize me. I was bleeding, and my pride was hurt. How could I have been so dumb as to not look where I was going? Where had that dog come from anyway?

I turned and walked towards the brush on the other side. There were thorns that had trapped my board, and I gently took off my shirt again. I wrapped the shirt around my left hand, and pushed the thorns out of the way. Crouching, I reached into the bramble with my right hand and pulled my abused skateboard out of the mess. I looked at it – it was fine, as always. It was in better condition than I was.

I was finally losing sight of the bridge, and all thoughts of the man were escaping my head. I could see the next bridge in the distance. If I got off on that street, I could skateboard home in minutes because I could cut across Fourth Ave and back up to Henderson Road and…yeah. I needed to go home anyway. It was a long morning…I deserved to return to my nice, comfy, safe bed.

Previous Chapter: Dye and Dreams
Next Chapter: Reconvening
Home: Go To Title Page