LOCKED (4 page)

She quietly stepped back
over to me and sat down on her legs once more. We let out a collective worried
sigh as we simply looked into each other’s stressed complexions. 

“Can’t get away from it…”
Danni murmured.

“
Hm
…?”
I mumbled. Somehow, I knew what she was saying, yet simply wanted confirmation.

“Well…well, look it at this
way. They’ve got bigger fish to fry. You saw in the paper where they were; they
went RIGHT past us. They don’t care about us. They’re after bigger and better
things, obviously.”

“True…” I nodded slowly,
finding myself staring at the floor.

“Hey.”

I looked up.

“There’s no point in
worrying about what you can’t change. Remember…how did it go? ‘If you keep
looking behind yourself, you’ll have a heart attack over your own shadow before
you see your enemy’s’.  Alright?” she concluded with a weak smirk,
standing up and reaching out her hand. I took it, grateful that she was made up
of a greater fiber, more than sarcasm. The line she recited was from an old
movie whose name I’ve forgotten; I saw it with Danni one of the first times we
met.

It seemed that most of the
convention was gone. We left the building, now having no reason to stay. Our
only intent was to wander around now, just as so many others our age were
doing. We found ourselves traversing the dusty and deteriorating gray
sidewalks, darting in and out of traffic, hearing the faint cry of sirens in
the distance, and hearing the very real wail of car horns right in front of us.
Each car whispered with gas exhaust as it impatiently drove by, in a hurry to
its destination. Without an iota of effort, our worries were washed away by the
simple and lazy hours strolling by.

When we turned the corner at
the sidewalk, I caught a glimpse of her eyes lighting up, and I saw exactly why
when I caught up to her: The Wall spread some more!

The Wall was the facade of a
massive abandoned factory; it went out of business years ago, and nobody
bothered to do anything with the space ever since. It retained a history of
dozens of years within the stones it was made of, and its defining
characteristic now was the way it had become a haven for graffiti artists. Just
as the world's history repeated itself, so did The Wall's: every few months,
all of the graffiti would be replaced with a plain red coat of paint by workers
for the town. Then, just as soon as it was gone, an explosion of new art went
up seemingly overnight, and there was always more than the time before. This
process had been going on for years; like an army, the town workers annihilated
the sense of creative expression in one day with their blood-red paint, and
also like an army, hundreds of colorful bubbles and words returned overnight,
sneering at all who tried to destroy it. Danni and I especially also loved to
see which portions were re-done, now with more detail and vibrant, shouting
colors, and which parts were brand new, born overnight.

"
Lookit
this one!" Danni pointed to a chaotic tangle of arms and eyes, all of
every color under the sun. The way they winded, twisted, pulled, pushed… I couldn't
help but think it was just trying to burst out of The Wall. All around it were
sprays by other people. Some were names, some were profanity, some were poems…
a little bit of everything. We paced on, observing every little bit of
personality splattered onto The Wall.

And in an instant, all that
personality seemed gone. Or, it was there, but disturbingly corrupted. I looked
over to Danni to make sure I wasn't the only one who saw it: All of the
swaying, bubbly, colorful text in one concentrated spot was replaced with
plain, black text. Perfectly straight, perfectly printed, as though done with a
ruler. It was obscene on a wall of profanity; I gave it a quick read, but
became too much of a combination of disgusted and confused to go on. Danni felt
the need to read it out loud.

"Change! Real change!
Devon Miller is the man you need! With over 30 years’ experience, nobody is
better suited for the job. Remember that name during elections on August
31!" she read aloud, pouting her lip at the end. 

"I guess the old guy
got sick of this place. Guess there’ll be an election instead of just a
buyout."

"Does this old guy have
a name?"

"
Uhh
..."

"You don't know any
more than I do about this."

"It's still just
shameful to put this on The Wall."

We just nodded to each
other, and stared for a few moments. I think one of our biggest concerns was
that none of the graffiti artists tore it apart like dogs the moment it
appeared, injecting some much-appreciated personality back into The Wall. Then,
I jolted up when I felt someone sling their arm around my neck.

"It sure is something,
isn’t it?" the stranger whistled. I stepped forward to shake off his
grasp, and gave him the dirty look he deserved, all while looking him up and
down. He was about five foot eight, and possessed a slender build. He wore a
gray business suit, red velvet tie and all, against his skin that was rather
tan in comparison to the near-porcelain hue of Danni and the apricot tone I
held. His black hair was cut short and slick, almost greasy.

He inhaled, looked down, put
one hand in his pocket, and held the other as though he was trying to explain
something. He flashed a smile with his perfectly white teeth, and everything
about him oozed with a deadly charisma. I looked over to Danni for just a
moment, and she returned the look with a raised eyebrow.

"Allow me to introduce
myself... I'm Mr. Miller." he pointed to the sacrilegious
"graffiti" behind us. He stopped, looked down, then back at us.
"Here, let me show you something." he motioned us to follow him, and
reluctantly we did, even if only out of curiosity. 

He started leading us into
the business district of town, away from the humble shops and apartments. The
way he always had something to say without stop was more than a bit unsettling... 

"Now, how old are you
two...? Thirteen, fourteen...?"

"We're both
seventeen." Danni growled, making it very clear how she felt about him.
All this "Mr. Miller" did was smile again, completely uninterrupted.

"Ah, I see. Well, I'm
sure you read through what our party wrote—“

"Vandalizing our
wall!"

“—we felt that it would be
the perfect spot to cater t—“

"You can find your
advertising spots somewhere else!"

Her relentless was
impressive, if not just shocking. I never quite saw her act this way before, to
anybody. Although this suit and tie was annoying, he wasn't truly
hurting
anybody...

"Here, take a seat.
Would you like a drink?" I jolted when he started talking to me again; I
didn't even realize where we had walked.  The small town had so quickly
disappeared, and in its place were rows upon rows of massive business
buildings. We were at a surprisingly small political convention, its purpose
mostly being to draw the attention of anybody who walked by. Miller’s face and policies
were plastered on just about any sheet or object it could find, all with the
very same plain text that The Wall was vandalized with.

"Sure..." I took
the plastic cup, and had a sip. It was extremely bitter, and I practically spat
it right into his face. I forced myself to swallow it, and made a mental note
not to have anymore. I held it out to give it back to him.

"Is something
wrong?" he asked, feigning courtesy.

"I'm on a diet." I
grinned.

"Oh, what are you
abstaining from?"

"Rat poison." I
shot a glance to Danni, and she gave a sickeningly sweet smile.

"So, let me just talk a
bit about why you're here." his demeanor was repulsive, “As you’re
becoming adults, you might want to become a little bit more involved in the
politics in your country. It’s your business, shouldn’t you be involved?”

“Not really.” Danni and I
responded almost in perfect unison.

“Well, you just might.
Anyway, I just wanted to show you this opportunity now. You might not be old
enough now, but you will be sooner or later. If you have no need for them,
maybe you could give these to a friend or parent?” he handed us both some
pamphlets, stained a yellow that somewhat reminded me of ancient scrolls.

“Our parents aren’t that
political either, but thanks. Bye.” Danni declared for the both of us. Times
were a bit rough, and even though everybody always wanted to believe that
someone could change things so they end up with a little more in their pocket,
was it really worth going through all that trouble for? Politics lately were
volatile…that much was easy to see.

She yanked me by my wrist,
and we walked back to the apartment, all of those major business buildings
around us disappearing once more for the humble shops to rise in their place.
The sun was drooping down behind these buildings, painting the sky with an
orange-yellow. The summer warmth in the city started to retract, ready to go to
the other side of the world where it would be better appreciated.

“I need to get back to my
place, it’s getting a little late…” Danni told me when we arrived at the door
to my apartment. We gave each other a hug, and she started down the hallway
before stopping at the first step of the stairs.

“Hey Leo?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re never really
gonna
be interested in politics like that, right?”

“Nah.”

“Good.” she grinned, and
continued down the stairway.

I chuckled softly to myself,
and shoved my hand into my pocket. I pulled out a ring of keys, and fiddled
with them until I found the right one to unlock the door. I stepped inside, and
locked the door behind me. As usual, my parents weren't home yet. They tended
to come home after the sun retreated back behind the little land that wasn't
already built upon and let the moon take the spotlight. I flopped out onto the
worn and beaten couch, and pulled a book from underneath.

Before flipping through my
novel's contents, I took a good look around the room, just as I often did; it
was a humble yet respectable apartment. Tan walls with divine, blood-red
curtains (even though they were five dollars at the thrift store) acting as a
backdrop to dozens of little gadgets spilt on the green-blue carpet. There were
dozens of little cracks in the walls from years of use, damage, and some of the
ceiling was eroded from the upstairs neighbors' antics. With a sigh, I sat on
my back and turned the pages of the book in my hands...

Page one hundred and
eighty-two. The chapter's title was "And My Nightmare Begins" of
"Primitive Intuition: A Disturbing Collection of Twenty-Five Poems and
Short Stories". Horror wasn't usually my cup of tea, but what can I say?
The embossed cover of thousands of snakes intertwined into a twisted, almost
DNA-like stairway against a black background caught my eye. I started reading
the dark passages, and just as always, made a mental image in my head.

"Trapped. Suffocating.
Dying! Beelzebub is laughing his crooked laugh all along my spine, throughout
my time."

Entrancing.

"Another minion sent to
lay me down in a bed of ash, coughed up by the earth."

Crippling.

"Ten thousand eyes
stare me down until the end of days."

Terrifying.

"Drenched in gasoline!
Conquest, War, Death, Famine! Immolate me!"

Intimidating.

"The reaper stares
hard. Twisting jaws, spinning blades, caressing stones by another name of
fingers. Your survival is haunting."

Fabricating...?

The heat was stolen from the
room. My jaw drops. Or is it ripped off? Before me, the color of the room is
bled out and everything reeks of ashes; all that remains is black and a bony
hand grabs my shoulder. A robed figure stands behind me, his garments of a
shadowy substance, dissipating but never disappearing. He holds a scythe,
gripped by bones. His entire body was bereft of flesh or skin. His empty eye
sockets stared right into me... I tried to scream, but no words came out. I saw
this demon raise its scythe high, put one deathly leg forward, and take a heavy
swing. I shut my eyes tight before it hit, felt my body hit the floor, and
then, nothingness...