Category : Stories

Sub Category : Horror

His life had followed a path of little interest during his days at Cotton End school, his mother had begun her descent into the alcohol filled haze that had taken her hand and led her willingly down the path of full-blown Alcoholism. 

His needs had been superseded by her need for oblivion the kind of oblivion that could only be realised by super strong Cider, Wine and Beer although in truth anything would do as long as it sped up the journey.

By the age of 10 he had grown into a wiry child all skin and bones this he surmised was the consequence of infrequent meals and the need to scavenge in the nearby shopping centre bins, it always amazed him what was thrown away by the supermarkets, he needed to be extra vigilant now as the security guard had caught him once and had locked him inside the bin he was searching. 

The darkness and the putrid dank smell covered his skin his clothes and the guard had banged his security stick on the metal sides at infrequent intervals which caused Byron to jump and smack his head against the lid resulting in a cut which bled profusely the liquid sticky on his face and becoming matted in his hair.

So since that day he had always been extra vigilant only venturing out to the shopping area in the dead of night, the area was poorly lit and the bins were hard to identify in the darkness, sometimes he would dive into an empty bin and land heavy on the harsh metal floor. 

Tonight he had found a good bin it was filled with Bread, Cakes, and Fruit. He carried what he could and headed home eating feverishly on an apple not daring to look at the piece of fruit for the fear of seeing something insect like within it firm flesh.

Better to eat no need to see……

His journey home took him through the nearby estate which was inhabited by the social rejects and misfits that seemed to radiate to the concrete behemoths that had sprung up all over inner cities like living breathing stalagmites of hereditary misery. The burnt out vehicles marked the boundary to the estate which had been named after somebody he had never heard of, one of the towers was called Maxwell House something that always raised a chuckle inside Byron even though he was sure it wasn’t named after the coffee brand.

He made his way through the labyrinth until he reached the relative safety of London Road which led directly to his house, he kept to the shadows created by the wooded area that ran the length of the road his eyes alert for any sound from both within the darkness of the trees and from the road to his right. Approaching headlights caused him to stand stock still slightly crouched and hopefully invisible to the beams that sought him out unintentionally.

He watched the car into the distance and continued on his way still searching for darkness still alert and watchful.

The house was in sight and he darted across the road spilling a couple of apples onto the tarmac he let them roll mindful that trying to retrieve them could prove costly, better to leave them he had enough anyway. 

The wooden gate hung broken at the entrance to the poorly maintained path that lead to his front door he had negotiated the path many times in the dark and knew instinctively the places he need to place his feet to avoid tripping and losing his supplies, the door was unlocked it always was even at this time of night. His mother lay on the threadbare sofa it like her had seen better days, empty bottles littered the floor and the smell of urine hung in the air. 
He moved quickly up the stairs and unlocked the padlock on his door the padlock had been found during a previous scavenging mission it was brand new and he kept the key around his neck alongside a small piece of Turquoise his birthstone.

He placed his spoils inside a wardrobe that he had adapted into an ad-hoc larder the fruit was placed in a cool box he had acquired from next doors garden when they had left it out overnight following a barbecue.

Finders Keepers Losers Weepers he muttered under his breath…..

He took one cake from the larder and stretched out on his bed wiping any debris from its surface, the cake was surprisingly fresh and was covered in gooey icing and full round currants the cake felt good as he devoured it greedily. He closed his eyes and awaited the sleep that would surely soon come.

It didn’t……

He reached under his bed searching for a box that contained his notebooks and assorted ramblings, heaving the box onto his bed he began to read the words.

” I want to stop the thoughts the darkness that engulfs me the visions of torture and mutilation that reside inside me, The way i think both concerns me and fascinates me. I am not like others i am different I am Byron Kiers and its time i awoke”

The sleep engulfed him and he closed his eyes and dreamt a dream of calmness and tranquillity, he was aware of his breathing and the feeling of calmness this brought him allowed for the thoughts to invade and he knew the Awakening had begun.

Tomorrow was a brand new day and it was his to seize…….

Carpe Diem indeed

To be continued………………