Genuine

His eyes scanned over the board. The blurred photos. The school photo. The notes. Could he really trust his judgment? They did have a point, he could see that. He had also been there and known what it was like. He had been the boy. This messages were his - the ones he had never been able to get out. Whether they liked it or not, this boy needed help and he was fairly sure the cries for help were genuine. What if they weren't?

[85 words]

Reality Away

He grabbed the pen. It was procedure now, whenever he was on the verge of a breakdown. Grab the pen, uncap the lid, grab the nearest paper, stab, scribble, write. It seemed the only logical thing he could do when he was fully ready to crash. Sometimes he thought it'd be easier, but instead, he wrote. Short, sharp messages. Help. SOS. A feeling. A location. Anything to get his hand moving freely. Anything to get away from reality.

[78 words]

Exploring Escape

5 June 2010

I stood panting, trying desperately to catch my breath. It had been days and still, I couldn’t believe this was happening. This was just some very long, very realistic dream that I was going to wake up from at any moment. I had to wake up. I couldn’t live my life like this. I couldn’t turn to anyone for help. I needed to talk to someone. I needed to escape. I would escape, somehow. Yes, perhaps after I ‘proved’ myself to them. Maybe then they’d actually let me explore. Maybe then I could run away. Anywhere was better than here. Nothing and no one was going to stop me from getting out of this place as soon as possible.

[119 words]

Home Now

30 May 2010

They shut the gates on me. I nearly screamed, but decided it best to hold my breath. Was this the person I was? No, dammit! What would Dad say if he could see me now? I nearly cried out then, too. Because if he was here, he’d probably look me up and down, sigh and help me get out of it. But he wasn’t here, and my step-father was not going to be so considerate… I stared out of the bars. This would be my home for thirty years. I had to get used to it. A voice was screaming its denial inside my head, but I shut it up. No one else was here to help me out of this. I was alone, and it would stay that way for some time. I wondered how long that would last.

[140 words]

What To Warn

29 May 2010

The time was getting near. It was too late to back out. He had to go through with it now. The fear gripped at his insides. The least he could do was warn. And if he couldn’t do it verbally… he took out the permanent marker. Two messages were needed. But what to write? How could he tell a ten year old she was in danger and to runaway the first chance she got? He couldn’t do that, and even if he did, who said she’d believe or follow him? No, a different message was needed, like… something else. He couldn’t think. What would he tell her that would be of help? Didn’t he say he was too late to help? There had to be a way. He would find a way.

[132 words]

Chase to Collision

I chased after him, pelting up the steps two at a time, calling him back. He was too far ahead of me. He was almost at the top.

“Go away!” he screamed and I looked up from my feet. He had paused to regain his breath, to yell at me to stop following him. I couldn’t do that. I seized the opportunity, speeding up the steps quicker with every step.

“I’m giving you the opportunity to get away!” the teenager screamed, “Just take it! Leave me alone!”

I had almost caught up, steps away. The boy turned and took his last couple to the top. I wanted to yell after him, but I concentrated my energy on those last steps to reach the flat roofing. He was halfway across the top of the landing now. I had to get him to hesitate before he went and threw himself over the side. I yelled out to him.

“After all you’ve done! After all those calls for help, after all those clues! You’re just going to leave like that?”

The boy looked back just as the man collided hard with his body, both falling to the ground.

[195 words]

The Winner

You're okay. Stay with me. You're going to be alright. Keep your eyes open. Keep looking at me. That's the way. We're here to help you. Squeeze my hand if you can. Focus on the sound of my voice. You're very strong, you know that? Keep looking at me. Open those eyes. You have such beautiful brown eyes, you know that? I've seen a photo of your Mum. They look just like hers. Now if you can feel that pressure on your leg, that's just us, okay? There's a bit of blood but you're going to be fine. We're getting you to a hospital now. Do you think you could talk to me? What's your favourite colour? Blue? Black? Hey, don't fall asleep on me. You should be wide awake. Don't make me pinch you. We're almost there. You fought a brave battle just then. And you know what? You're a winner. I won't let you lose now.

[158 words]

Talk About It

Hmm, I had a sudden urge to explore the relationship between Nick and the Prison Counselor. I have a feeling I'll be exploring this much, much more indepth over the next few weeks :P

"Nick, are you okay?"

"Fine."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No."

"I really think you should talk about it."

"No."

"Well I'm open to suggestions. What do you want to talk about?"

"Choices."

"Choices aren't always easy to make. Do you think you've made a bad choice?"

"I know I have."

"How can you know that?"

"I've seen the outcome."

"Nick, we make our choices for a reason. What kind of choice are we talking about here?"

"Life and death."

"Which did you choose?"

"Life."

"Then that's good, isn't it?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"He's dead. Inside. He's dead inside."

"Nick ... you know you can trust me."

"I can't trust myself."

"Why?"

"I should've done something about it."

"About what?"

"His death. Him."

"You couldn't have done anything, Nick."

"Yes, I could've!"

"Nick, relax. Explain to me. Whose death? Your father's?"

"I couldn't of stopped his. But I could've stopped hers."

"Nick. Calm down. It's too late."

"It's not too late for him."

"Who?"

"I've got to go."

[170 words]

Quiet Emergency

He dug his fists tightly into his pockets as he followed the trail of blood through the long grass, leading to the mobile phone. It had been dropped, obviously. The person, whoever they were, had been bleeding badly. He picked up the mobile without a second thought, fingers automatically dialling triple zero without his decision to do so.

"Emergency services. Please state your emergency."

He bit his lip self conciously, shivering just slightly in the cool night air. His jacket gave him some kind of warmth, but not for the prospect of what he would have to do. Just the thought drenched him cold.

"Hello?"

He hastily wiped a single tear from his cheek, as he put the phone down in it's exact spot, along with a new note, as he headed off the way he had come. They would find out. They'd come to help him now. They had to. No one else would.

[155 words]