It won't stop

'IT WON'T STOP!!'

Sharc, face down on the floor of his bedroom, had his arms over his head, as if trying to block out some sort of noise.

'IT WON'T STOP!'

Lisa stared down at him, for the first time, rather confused by his behavior. It was sudden and....weird. Sharc had been quiet since he got home from Massacre early Sunday morning. More quiet than usual. So quiet, she had checked a few times to make sure he was still there. And he had sat, zombie-like, for hours at a time, not moving, barely even blinking or breathing. Like he was in a trance or a near-catatonic state.

As darkness had settled in for the evening, at some point while she was showering and worrying about her growing belly from their baby that is now just about five months along, Sharc had switched spots, going from a quiet zombie on the recliner in the living room to his best impersonation of a dead body. Staring, hollowly almost, straight ahead of himself at the wall.

Even when she had looked at him, she didn't think he saw her.

So the day passed. Then today, she found him like this when she came home from Christmas tree shopping. She was going to make him bring the tree she'd bought in from the roof of his car, but apparently he was in no shape to do it.

'You selfish bastard,' Lisa sighed out. 'I bought a tree and you have to pick now to have a nervous breakdown? What the fuck is wrong with you?'

Sharc didn't even look up. He just lifted his legs up and down, crashing his bare toes into the carpeted floor with a dull thud. Up, and down. Up, and down.

Lisa was just about fed up. She got down on her knees and dragged him up to stare at her. She recoiled upon seeing his face.

Covered in blood.

The floor covered in blood.

He had torn open his stitches and wounds.

Lisa dropped her grip on his hair and his head thudded to the floor.

BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! He continued to slam his forehead into the floor.

'STOP!' Lisa shrieked out. 'RICH STOP IT!'

Slowly, Sharc looked up at her.

'Rich is dead, cunt,' Sharc said, his teeth bared. 'And I want to join him. But I've got something to take care of first. BUT IT WON'T STOP!' he said grabbing at his ears and once again banging his head on the floor.

Lisa could only stare.

Confused and a little scared.

She put a hand to her belly and slowly got up. Perhaps mother's instinct was kicking in, telling her it was smart to keep a little space. As Sharc screamed and bled into the ruined carpet about something not stopping, she sat on the edge of the bed, keeping an eye on him, but not getting too comfortable in case she had to run.

Then she knew. 'That bitch!' Lisa screamed out.

Sharc paused his self-inflicted pain. And just laid there.

'What have you and Chelsea been doing?' she asked, thinking she actually had caught his attention.

Sharc heard Lisa's voice when it asked the question, but as he stared ahead he could only see two feet in front of him. Those sneakers. They looked so familiar. He was just glad she had stopped ramming his face into the floor.

'You pathetic loser. You still haven't changed. You do realize you'll never be anything,' she said.

'Sharc?' another woman asked.

'You really think you deserve to be a champion? You failed in your home town. In front of all the losers who picked on you and beat on you. Sure, you may make a little more money then them, but what good are you doing? You're gonna be paralyzed in 10 years and dead in 11.'

'Sharc? Answer me,' that other voice talking again.

Too many voices.

'He's not gonna be anything.' Big work boots joined the sneakers that had been in front of him. 'It's just too bad there are gonna be three more of him. Well, at least they won't get to know him.'

Somebody sat down behind the legs with the sneakers and the legs with the work boots. Just a blob. A big black blob. 'What won't stop?'

'You know why I never told you I loved you? Because I didn't,' he told him.

'Shut up!' Sharc screamed as he tried to block out the voices. 'IT WON'T STOP!'

'Why don't you just get it over with. 11 years, 11 seconds, does it really matter?' somebody said.

'Then he'd be weaker than me.'

'OH GOD! STOP! STOP TALKING!'

Lisa then stared in horror as Sharc picked himself up and ran headfirst into the wall. She had never heard a thud like that before and never wanted to again. He had crashed so hard, she could hear the windows vibrate and even a nearby closed door rocked from the impact. She could only sit and stare from the edge of the bed, her eyes open wide in disbelief, her mouth agape, as slowly, Sharc's head slid down the wall, leaving a crooked trail of blood as he descended into unconsciousness.

Shakily, she pushed herself to her feet and went over to find Sharc, who was unconscious and had slumped into a mess.

There was only one option. She called 911. She didn't even hear what she told them before she fainted.

NEXT CHAPTER: Two Crates And You're Gone/Sharc vs. Canada's Hero >>

©2002 John Leary