Lost II

High school. Richard Hertz, a 25-year-old man, walked down the hallway, past faces from the halls of his mind. He stared at them, they hadn't aged a day since last he saw them. A bunch of teenagers. Jocks in red football jerseys, shoving him into a locker as they passed by. Girls laughing at him and pointing, making him feel the urge to get to class.

Richard power-walked down the hallway and turned to his right into a classroom. Inside, everyone turned to him. All eyes, just staring at him. Burrowing their way through to his soul. He took his seat at the back of the class and pulled out a notebook. No pencil.

He looked up.

Everyone was staring at him. A voice from somewhere asked him "what the hell do you think you're doing."

Zimmerman. Keith fucking Scott Zimmerman was there. He grabbed Sharc and spun him around in a circle. "You have no idea where you're going. Nice match tonight. You really busted your ass. I wish I could do shit like that."

"But you can't."

"No."

Sharc headed down the tunnel, heading out to the crowd. The roar was unbelievable. The loudest he had ever heard in his life. Ahead in the ring awaited Rune Winters. Sharc walked the aisle, ignoring the cheers from the crowd. He had them. He had them all. He slid into the ring and began destroying Rune Winters with a chair. Beating him to a bloody pulp. Letting him get up and smacking him in the face over and over again.

The tables were just sitting there. Sharc lifted Rune up by the throat and tossed him easily over the top rope. The crowd was insanely popping for Sharc. He had arrived. He was a main eventer. He was the fucking show.

"That was impressive."

"I know, wasn't it."

Lisa grabbed him around his waist and bit down hard on his shoulder. "It used to be so much fun."

"Things happened. You were really fucked up."

"I still am. I'm just waiting for you to come back to me. So we can take up where we left off."

Lisa Keown grabbed Sharc by the hair and dropped Rich face down on the floor. Over and over. Rich was crying. Like a baby. Begging for Lisa to stop. Sobbing, his words indecipherable except to himself. The words were in his brain but they wouldn't come out. Only the crying.

"Why, son, why?"

Rich could only stare in horror. His dad was back. His skin blackened and melting from his skull. Sharc crawled into a corner, hoping his dad would vanish. But his eyes wouldn't close. All he could do was watch his dad get closer.

"I didn't want to burn you."

"Yes, you did! Why couldn't you bury me with your mother!"

"BECAUSE I FUCKING HATED YOU! BUT I DIDN'T WANT YOU TO DIE. AND I DIDN'T HAVE ANY FUCKING MONEY BECAUSE YOU DIDN'T FUCKING LEAVE ME ANYTHING OTHER THAN A LIFE FULL OF MEMORIES THAT WILL HAUNT ME TIL I DIE!"

"Then why don't you just die already."

"Because it would make you too fucking happy."

"Did you see what I got?"

"No, what?"

A new truck. A big blue shiny one. "That's nice."

"We should go for a ride."

*SMASH*

"What was that? Is she OK?"

"Yeah, she's fine son, don't worry."

"Look, it's bleeding." Rich bent down and saw a trickle of blood coming from underneath the truck.

"Shit, I just fixed that."

"That'll kill her."

"Kill who?"

"Mom..." He turned around and got into his station wagon. He was singing along. "Won't you tell me, where have all the good times gone. Where have all the good times gone."

The sound of a crying child. He stood, looking at his wrecked car, steam hissing out of its bent hood. It's grill, vomited all over the road. And there was just one small, bright, shining, light....

NEXT CHAPTER: Lost III >>

©2003 John Leary