Satanic Nightjar
reach for the stars and don't settle for the moon
[Seeking feedback on the first chapter of my book! I'd appreciate any comments/criticism.]
Only two things mattered to me that morning—the time and my notebook.
I’d forgotten it on my way out the door, and had about three seconds of uncertainty before deciding and rushing back to my grandma’s house. Not my house. Or not my home, at least. But it was a roof over my head, and therefore I was lucky. I was okay.
Now the worn leather book was clutched firmly in my left hand as I rushed down the sidewalks, staring intensely at the ground, not wanting to make eye contact with a stranger that might trigger an attack. Deep breaths. Eyes down. Hood up. You’re okay, I told myself repeatedly. You’re okay. I kept saying it over and over until it lost all meaning.
I almost didn’t notice the bus until I was right on top of it. Its doors were about to close, the driver sitting impatiently at the wheel as he stared at me. I’m sure I looked miserable. I was.
I slowly lifted my gaze to take in the blinding yellow of the vehicle, and automatically took a few steps back. Images flashed through my head. It looked just like the one that took me to school that day. Some evil voice in my mind whispered that perhaps it was the same bus, taking me to the same day, to relive it over and over, and even though it was irrational I felt panic welling up in my throat.
I couldn’t do this. My eyes filled with tears of embarrassment as the other kids on the bus stared at me with some mixture of annoyance and pity, whispering insults and questions and giggling and pointing and—
“Hey, kid, you coming or not? I got a schedule to keep.”
That shook me out of it.
I gathered up all my courage, took a deep breath, and wiped my eyes. “You got this, Ash,” I whispered to myself, before forcing my legs into action, climbing the steps into the thick, hot air of the bus. I walked down the aisle, eyes now locked back on the ground. My hands were still trembling as I sat down in the very back seat, jumped my knees up into my chest, and curled up into a ball. What a first day this was going to be.
Why can’t you just be normal? I asked myself for the millionth time. Yeah, we get it, you went through fucking hell. Boo-hoo. It’s done, so get your pathetic ass on over it. I told myself this so often I couldn’t tell if I even meant it anymore.
The kids around me were still staring at me, still curious. I buried my head in my knees, not wanting to see them. Right then I would have paid just to escape into the darkness behind my eyes and stay there forever. I forced air into my noncompliant lungs, begging them to just breathe, begging my mind to calm down, but that was like begging a broken heart to heal, or a sinking ship to float. Impossible. Though my life seemed at this point to be simply a series of impossible tragedies.
I hated it when this happened. When I would spiral into my thoughts. It happened far too often, as if no matter how hard I tried to claw my way out of this dark, endless pit, the floor always gave out, and I was tumbling once again into the depths of my mind.
Screech!
The bus rolled to a stop, exhaling exhaust. A slight rain had blown in, the cold droplets landing on my face as I exited the bus. I practically ran down the steps, eager to get as far away from it as I could. Not that the sight of the school was any better. It was two stories, solid brick, like most high schools, and it was nearly identical to . . . well. I stood and stared at it for a few minutes, the bells announcing that first period was soon to begin echoing in my ears. I didn’t really acknowledge them, still frozen in place in the middle of the sidewalk. My mouth was probably hanging open or something, like those overdramatic movie actors. It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be, though—there was no shaking, no sobbing, no running away screaming. Just emptiness. Shock. Just like that day.
Smack.
“Hey, what the hell? Watch where you’re going!”
The force of someone’s shoulder against my chest sent me tumbling to the ground, and my hands raked against the concrete, drawing a little bit of blood. My mouth opened and closed, but I found myself still frozen for several seconds before I choked out, “I-I’m really sorry.” I was still gasping for breath when I looked up and saw my pusher’s face for the first time.
He was tall and tan, perfect hair stacked atop his head with a bit of gel just visible when the light hit it. He wore an expression of disgust, as did most of the several guys that surrounded him. I thought I might have recognized him, but I wasn’t sure how until he spoke again.
“You’re that weird kid who made us late on the bus. Daddy forget to hold your hand on the way to the stop, crybaby?” At the mention of my father I flinched visibly, feeling the tears beginning to come back into my eyes. I couldn’t bring myself to answer. The hatred in his voice was too much to bear, it had me shaking all over again. My lungs felt as if they were drowning in fear. He shook his head at me, scoffing. “Fucking pathetic. What do you say we show him who he’s messing with, guys?”
The boy cracked his knuckles, and the loud popping sound that ensued had my heart leaping into my chest. It’s gonna be okay, I thought—no, pleaded—it’s okay, Ash. I screwed my eyes shut and prepared myself.
I was no stranger to pain, really. It would be alright. I could take a beating, and it wouldn’t be the first time. I just didn’t want to have to explain a black eye to Nan on my first day of school.
“Hey! Cole, c’mon man, leave the kid alone. You’re just gonna make us later.” The boy—Cole—turned around to face a taller kid, this guy sporting ripped black jeans and a cross around his neck. He had big dimples but somehow managed to also have one of the best jawlines ever, if I do say so myself, and towered over my pusher by at least three inches. I stared at him pathetically, expression as blank as I could manage, but inwardly I was surprised. Why would someone like him stand up for someone like me? Or maybe he really did just care about getting to class on time.
Cole gave me one last long scowl before nodding at the guy who was defending me. “Fine, whatever, let’s just go. Cafeteria’s gonna run outta seats before long.”
The other guy gave me a long look, as if deciding something, then shrugged and walked away. I stayed crumpled in a heap on the ground until they were well out of sight, then gripped onto the flagpole beside me and pulled myself up, limping only a little bit from banging my knee. The bell for first period rang just as I walked through the doors.
Chapter One
Ash Williamson
Ash Williamson
Only two things mattered to me that morning—the time and my notebook.
I’d forgotten it on my way out the door, and had about three seconds of uncertainty before deciding and rushing back to my grandma’s house. Not my house. Or not my home, at least. But it was a roof over my head, and therefore I was lucky. I was okay.
Now the worn leather book was clutched firmly in my left hand as I rushed down the sidewalks, staring intensely at the ground, not wanting to make eye contact with a stranger that might trigger an attack. Deep breaths. Eyes down. Hood up. You’re okay, I told myself repeatedly. You’re okay. I kept saying it over and over until it lost all meaning.
I almost didn’t notice the bus until I was right on top of it. Its doors were about to close, the driver sitting impatiently at the wheel as he stared at me. I’m sure I looked miserable. I was.
I slowly lifted my gaze to take in the blinding yellow of the vehicle, and automatically took a few steps back. Images flashed through my head. It looked just like the one that took me to school that day. Some evil voice in my mind whispered that perhaps it was the same bus, taking me to the same day, to relive it over and over, and even though it was irrational I felt panic welling up in my throat.
I couldn’t do this. My eyes filled with tears of embarrassment as the other kids on the bus stared at me with some mixture of annoyance and pity, whispering insults and questions and giggling and pointing and—
“Hey, kid, you coming or not? I got a schedule to keep.”
That shook me out of it.
I gathered up all my courage, took a deep breath, and wiped my eyes. “You got this, Ash,” I whispered to myself, before forcing my legs into action, climbing the steps into the thick, hot air of the bus. I walked down the aisle, eyes now locked back on the ground. My hands were still trembling as I sat down in the very back seat, jumped my knees up into my chest, and curled up into a ball. What a first day this was going to be.
Why can’t you just be normal? I asked myself for the millionth time. Yeah, we get it, you went through fucking hell. Boo-hoo. It’s done, so get your pathetic ass on over it. I told myself this so often I couldn’t tell if I even meant it anymore.
The kids around me were still staring at me, still curious. I buried my head in my knees, not wanting to see them. Right then I would have paid just to escape into the darkness behind my eyes and stay there forever. I forced air into my noncompliant lungs, begging them to just breathe, begging my mind to calm down, but that was like begging a broken heart to heal, or a sinking ship to float. Impossible. Though my life seemed at this point to be simply a series of impossible tragedies.
I hated it when this happened. When I would spiral into my thoughts. It happened far too often, as if no matter how hard I tried to claw my way out of this dark, endless pit, the floor always gave out, and I was tumbling once again into the depths of my mind.
Screech!
The bus rolled to a stop, exhaling exhaust. A slight rain had blown in, the cold droplets landing on my face as I exited the bus. I practically ran down the steps, eager to get as far away from it as I could. Not that the sight of the school was any better. It was two stories, solid brick, like most high schools, and it was nearly identical to . . . well. I stood and stared at it for a few minutes, the bells announcing that first period was soon to begin echoing in my ears. I didn’t really acknowledge them, still frozen in place in the middle of the sidewalk. My mouth was probably hanging open or something, like those overdramatic movie actors. It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be, though—there was no shaking, no sobbing, no running away screaming. Just emptiness. Shock. Just like that day.
Smack.
“Hey, what the hell? Watch where you’re going!”
The force of someone’s shoulder against my chest sent me tumbling to the ground, and my hands raked against the concrete, drawing a little bit of blood. My mouth opened and closed, but I found myself still frozen for several seconds before I choked out, “I-I’m really sorry.” I was still gasping for breath when I looked up and saw my pusher’s face for the first time.
He was tall and tan, perfect hair stacked atop his head with a bit of gel just visible when the light hit it. He wore an expression of disgust, as did most of the several guys that surrounded him. I thought I might have recognized him, but I wasn’t sure how until he spoke again.
“You’re that weird kid who made us late on the bus. Daddy forget to hold your hand on the way to the stop, crybaby?” At the mention of my father I flinched visibly, feeling the tears beginning to come back into my eyes. I couldn’t bring myself to answer. The hatred in his voice was too much to bear, it had me shaking all over again. My lungs felt as if they were drowning in fear. He shook his head at me, scoffing. “Fucking pathetic. What do you say we show him who he’s messing with, guys?”
The boy cracked his knuckles, and the loud popping sound that ensued had my heart leaping into my chest. It’s gonna be okay, I thought—no, pleaded—it’s okay, Ash. I screwed my eyes shut and prepared myself.
I was no stranger to pain, really. It would be alright. I could take a beating, and it wouldn’t be the first time. I just didn’t want to have to explain a black eye to Nan on my first day of school.
“Hey! Cole, c’mon man, leave the kid alone. You’re just gonna make us later.” The boy—Cole—turned around to face a taller kid, this guy sporting ripped black jeans and a cross around his neck. He had big dimples but somehow managed to also have one of the best jawlines ever, if I do say so myself, and towered over my pusher by at least three inches. I stared at him pathetically, expression as blank as I could manage, but inwardly I was surprised. Why would someone like him stand up for someone like me? Or maybe he really did just care about getting to class on time.
Cole gave me one last long scowl before nodding at the guy who was defending me. “Fine, whatever, let’s just go. Cafeteria’s gonna run outta seats before long.”
The other guy gave me a long look, as if deciding something, then shrugged and walked away. I stayed crumpled in a heap on the ground until they were well out of sight, then gripped onto the flagpole beside me and pulled myself up, limping only a little bit from banging my knee. The bell for first period rang just as I walked through the doors.
