Prey with Fire

The alarm was an annoying thing that I had not planned for.

“Run”

The banshee wailed, never having to stop for a breath. Papers were thrown into air and bags were dropped, which created an atmosphere of party poppers that echoed down the corridors. The bang of metal upon metal blasted down the hall as a figure fell, the color of Mars graffitiing the small door. This forrest, this jungle, of metal and flesh, it was so familiar to me, but I could not understand how these things enjoyed being in it. The eyes of the figure closed, the chest of it rose and fell, so I continued my hunt. I replenished the extension of my arm, allowing me to resume the very storm I had stirred.

“Josiah is a very good student.”

I continued to walk through the screams and flocks of scared game. A broken figure laid in front of me, liquids seeping from its leg, its heavy chest rising and falling slowly. I lowered myself onto my hind legs, my arms over my shoulder. I looked into the beasts eyes. They say the eyes are windows to the soul, I have never understood this cliche, as they are called. Cliches have always confused me, I can’t understand them like others can. But this one, this one makes sense, you can look into someones eyes and see what they are feeling. When they are truly sad about someone dying or filled with apathy when they have done something wrong. These green eyes mixed with salty tears did not have any sort of human emotions in them but fear. Fear of me, the hunter.

“Please, leave me alone, I didn't do anything to -”

I finished its statement, placing a gentle hand over its mouth to stop him from speaking. This put a surprised look on the creatures face, and then made it relax. I got up and turned down another corridor, where a flock of beasts scurried into a deeper portion of the jungle. I noticed one amongst them with an exceptional mane, it resembled the king of the jungle in all its fury and glory. It gleamed of red and black, and once he was in the deeper part of the brush, the opening was becoming blocked by a large door, but was abruptly stopped by my perfectly aimed arm. Screams went up and faded as quickly as a firework would. I was in control, like the conductor of a train, I got to determine who rode in the first class coach and who took a one way trip to the sleeping car.

“Excellent grades, does well in class.”

I stole myself and began my journey into the deeper brush. It was dark, the room seemed to be lit by the creeping light that managed to find its way through the dens curtains. I had lost track of my prey, but the thicket had only one true entrance, and I was in its threshold. There were some humanoids, but they were not of my concern. They were simple water fowl and I was after bigger game. I moved deeper into the nature sanctuary, my arm poised. I motioned to the humans, they seemed petrified, one looked as though it was wounded. It needed to be looked at right away.

“Go, you need medical attention.” None of them moved, all eyes were focused upon my arm. “Listen! Go now.” The human attempted to get up but fell down to the ground. “You, help her.” I motioned with my other arm, my lesser arm, to another humanoid that looked to be in fine condition. It moved over and helped the female up and escorted her out of the room. The rest were leaving and I then noticed it, perched upon a desk in the back of the thicket, the king. The look in his eyes told me that he was feeling the toll of being the prey for once. He was too used to feeling like he was the king of the jungle. I approached him with caution, I had been tricked too many times by this behemoth. He looked up and spotted me, thinking that if he didn’t do anything, he would be left alone.

“Has an interest in hunting, but attacking other students is against everything this school stands for.”

I’ve had similar thoughts, I’ve been the animal before. All my life I’ve been the prey. Hoping that if I don’t do anything, that I’d be spared. However, I’m an endangered species, and that makes me a much wanted commodity. I have been the prey of very beast that I track now. Projectiles would force from it’s mouth, those projectiles would make my blood boil, my heart stop beating, my life seem small, unimportant, useless. My fight or flight instincts would kick in, but I couldn’t differentiate between the two. I would sometimes fight against being the game, but would result with me in a penalty or a greater injury than if I had simply taken the assault. Fleeing was never an option, I was always cornered, always watched with piercing eyes. When I attempted to run away, I was chased, stalked. I was the animal, but now, I am the hunter.

It’s a great feeling, being on top of the food chain. The king of the jungle still in front of me, locked in place:

BANG!

My arm recoiled; the carnivore took off running. I ran after the beast, being hit by the closing of the door as he exited the thicket. The aroma of black powder greeted my nostrils as I was trapped for a second. I open the door completely and continued my hunt in the wild. I followed the beats by his footsteps, he carried himself always in a heavy manner, stomping on the ground. He seemed like he was always trying to prove something to the world. He was stomping his grounds, claiming his domain and rule. I had him in eye sight again, he was at the ledge of which led down to the lower level of the jungle. He began his decent, skipping the jagged stairs in twos and threes. As the creature catapulted off the final jump, he landed incorrectly; his leg locked and caused him to fall, as a majestic red oak slams into the top soil. I raised my arm and noticed my aim through the crosshairs. I had at last had my chance, my opportunity.  The creature cried out in pain from its fall. I had never heard a noise like it before, the sheer sound of it made you feel pity, almost sorry for the beast. I wonder if this is how it felt to watch me when I was the prey. I wonder if it had felt pity on me. If he understood the course of his actions that lead him up to this moment.

“I’m not sure, however, if he understands the circumstances of his actions.” The grey toned room was simple, a desk with an executive chair behind it, with a basic desktop computer on top of the desk, with a basic black telephone near the computer. The Principal’s grey eyes pierced through Josiah, his soul being tormented by her very glare. Her shirt and pants were a smoky grey, her overcoat a mustard yellow color. Her hair was pulled back in a tight bun, which intensified her canvas of wrinkles.

I had fallen down the stairs several times. Once, my foot was fractured and I had to wear a cast for a week. Whenever I tripped down the stairs, everyone would cackle and snicker to themselves as though they were a bunch of hyenas. They had to laugh, it was the only way to keep their place on the food chain.

I told my father and the doctor that I fell. That I was simply clumsy, day dreaming about going home to my father’s amazing hand tossed pizza. The fresh dough and crisp vegetables he strategically placed upon them would turn any carnivore. The truth though is that he shoved me down the stairs. He would follow me after every class that I was in, tracing my daily routines, tracking what paths I took in the jungle in order to get from thicket to thicket. He taunted me, said things that would make me react violently, then he would take the victim approach. Nothing I could do or say would make him get in trouble, he was always able to weasel out of any given situation. I had managed to keep the stair scenarios to myself, I never saw him push me, so I figured that I was clumsy.

The locker rooms had a fresh stench of body odor overflowing from the room. Sounds of grunts and laughs came from the boys in the room, the sounds combined to create the sounds of the deep forest. I walked through them to get to my locker which was at the end of the of the long corridor of sweaty half naked bodies. I would always get nervous about looking anywhere but down at the ground as I walked to the end of the hallway. As I approached my clothing safe in anticipation for removing the soaked skin tight clothing, he got in the way.

“Hey”

I said nothing. I kept my gaze down on the ground. I wanted to get to my locker but he was in my path. I wanted to get out of my clothes, get in my clean clothes, and get out of the spawning pit of filth.

“Hey, did you hear me Josiah?”

I finally looked up at him, I saw his green eyes look into me, a slight grin upon his lips made me shiver as if I had walked a plank off a ship into a sea of starving sharks. A lump began to form in my throat, which caused my breathing to come across much more difficult. Sweat began to erupt from my pores on every portion of my body, which even increased my anxiety, which triggered my asthma. I yanked out my inhaler and began to shake it as if I were attempting to reach the surface of the ocean. I took it to my mouth and inhaled the steroids that gave relief to my lungs as though I surfaced the dark blue ocean.

“Are you okay Josiah?”

I stared at him and nodded.

“It’s rude not to respond to someone when they talk to you.”

“Can I get past you please, I want to get dressed.”

“Yes, you just have to say hi.”

My anxiety return, I tried to conjure the words, to reach for the materials in my quiver, but had none, nothing. Tears began to drip down my eyes, I didn’t know what to do. I was trapped. The bell rang and announced the migration of herds from class to class. The lion in front of me gave me a bit of a grin again and began to move towards my locker. As I began to walk, my lost control; my strings were cut and I fell to the ground. Laughters ricocheted off of the concrete sink hole and I tried to regain my standing. The beast in front of me began laughing louder and louder, his face looking less humanoid, his hair resembling that of a ragged mane. His laughs transforming into longing growls.

I couldn't stand his smirk. I was lost in bloodlust. I began my counter assault upon him. My arm found strength and projected my fist with great speed into the side of his stupid grin. A whistle broke my trance and returned me to the human world.

“Mrs. Dollhop, please, Josiah would never -”

“Sir,” Mrs. Dollhop interrupted in a hoarse cough, “Josiah has shown time after time that he is violent, and his temper seems to be provoked quite instantly without much to spark it. I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to suspend him for the rest of the week.”

Those last words set my world upside down. Mrs. Dollhop got up and opened her office door and motioned that she was through with us. No one was ever on my side. I couldn’t believe that Shane had gotten away with it again, he got to torment me night and day and I was the victim. A stray cat that a young arsonist or serial killer would find and slowly terrorize before finishing him up for good.

I was shoved again and fell, not as a puppet, but as a human does when he is tripped by another. My arm aided in breaking my fall from the retaliation of the cornered animal. I was astonished at this determination that it showed, wanting its life, wanting to have a chase. The creature began to bolt down the interior of the metal and concrete jungle. I finally snapped out of my daze and confusion to give haste towards the deranged animal.

I journeyed down the stair well and emerged into the breeding ground of foul odors. The light switch offered the only luminous source. As I flipped the switch I raised my arm in defense of what would surprise me from the eerie darkness.

I whistled as one does for their pet. I heard my tweet bounce off the cement confines of the locker room. I took my extended arm and clashed its metal barrel upon one of the lockers to scare out the beast, similar to smoking out foxes in a hunt. The trick worked, he scattered out of his little hole and sprinted towards the showers. I raised my arm and fired a shot, which missed and ricochet off of the grime covered tile. I shot again this time grazing his shoulder and a cry of pain ripped through the room, the mighty beast fell, his hand trying to grip upon the shower handle as he began his decent to the jungle floor below. Water started in the showering area, blood and water mixed together, the mixture of life itself. I approached the watering hole, glancing at what I had caused, what he had caused. I looked down at the mighty creature, the elusive prey, now he was nothing but a bleeding mouse that had been caught in my trap.

His hand was covered in the crimson liquid escaping from his shoulder. He looked up at me while laying upon his back, his eyes lost completely of green and now completely focused on my extended arm. I placed my arm over my shoulder and looked down at him, pitying him. I was pitying myself. Was this how he saw me when he pushed me down the stairs those many times? Was there a sense of wrong doing that went through his mind which amounted to animal instincts? We both stared at each other, time passed and we continued our intense gaze towards each other, our eyes communicating more conversation than we had share our entire knowing of each other.

“Why,” it spoke. “Why, what did I do?”

Why was he asking me, he knew perfectly well who I was. He knew that I was the kid he pushed down the stairs, that I was the butt of his jokes.

“You hunted me like an animal, you’ve made my life an abyss of hopelessness. How can you not know why?”

“It was all a joke, it wasn’t meant to be anything other than that.”

It was a ploy, a trick used by animals like these. It was nothing more than a hideous facade he wore as a blanket over his ignorance. It allowed him to cover his animal side with a humanistic approach.

“Please, don’t do anything stupid.”

I raised my arm at him. I am not stupid, he is the stupid one. He is the one who got himself in this situation, I’m just playing the course of nature, survival of the fittest. In this moment, I am the fittest.

Footsteps are coming down the stairs and bodies burst through the door into the locker room. Men in uniform with their shiny and more advance arms aimed at me. I look around, losing my control, slipping out of my power. The motion, to put my arm down, was to lose my only source of strength. I relinquished my extension and found myself naked of power, of protection. I felt the floor beneath my face and icy cuffs imprisoning my wrists.

The lion was rushed to by two people in white, the color of purity. They were treating the one who was full of lies and deceit, the one that hurt so many people. But they did not see him as hurtful. I was the criminal in their eyes, the looks upon them were of fear and pity. I do not need their pity, they are the ones who deserve pity. I was only following in response to how I was treated. I was the one who was simply following the ways of predator and prey.

The banshee finally was out of breath. Her wailing ceased. My arm was taken away from me, and I was stripped of everything I had considered mine. I was no longer predator or prey.

I was nothing.

I am nothing.

I will always be nothing.