Savior
Page 22
THERE WAS A BURNING SORENESS IN EVERY MUSCLE in my body the next morning. Running over 100 miles per hour was getting easier for me but my body was still adjusting to the new limits that I was pushing it to. My heart rate soared as I recalled the invigorating sensations that I had felt the night before as I rocketed through the streets with the police in hot pursuit of me. The adrenaline high that I got from their pursuit allowed me to push my speed beyond 150 miles per hour. They didn’t stand a chance at catching me.
As I reminisced on the events of the previous night, it bothered me how much I enjoyed the danger that I had subjected myself to. Simply running had not been enough to ease the pain that festered in my heart, but the danger and the resulting adrenaline overload was more than enough. It was like a drug— something that I needed in order to feed the insatiable hunger that only got stronger as I dove deeper into the insidious web of turmoil that had ensnared me. What scared me the most was that even though the sirens had long stopped and adrenaline no longer flowed, it was all I could think about.
As I lay there, a wave of paranoia suddenly washed over me, brought on by the realization that I couldn’t remember having come home last night. The last thing I remembered was blazing through the streets trying to reach 200 miles per hour. After that, my recollection was extremely cloudy. I knew something had happened but I couldn’t remember what.
How did I get back? I thought. Why couldn’t I remember coming home, and most importantly, what had I done during the time frame that I couldn’t remember? What if I had killed someone?
I took a deep breath and tried to slow my heart rate. My adrenaline had started to flow again and the last thing I needed was to leap through the ceiling while attempting to walk down the stairs. The police and probably the feds had to be searching high and low for me, so I needed to keep as low a profile as possible.
Once my heart rate normalized I finally sat up in my bed but I couldn’t shake the feeling that the jig was up.
“What was I thinking?” I grumbled as I stood and grabbed a T-Shirt and a pair of jeans from the pile of clean clothes haphazardly thrown on top of my lone dresser. A rush of panic consumed me as I noticed in the mirror that I was still wearing the mask. Had any of my family seen me? I thought as I ripped the mask from my head and stuffed it into my backpack. For all I knew, the FBI could have been just down the stairs waiting for me. I rushed to my window and peered outside. I was relieved to see that the dirt road outside our house was empty. The coast was clear…at least for the moment it was.
Downstairs, my mother’s eyes were glued to the TV as a news report about my night played over and over again. I was relieved that my face was not shown on screen. I sighed as I realized my identity was still safe.
Having heard my sigh, my mother whipped around and glared at me. She was instantly on her feet and crossing the room before I could make my exit. For a moment, we stood in awkward silence as the news report continued in the background. She looked tired. Her weary eyes were reddened, letting me know that she had recently been crying.
“What time did you get home last night?” she finally demanded.
“I don’t remember,” I replied, secretly relieved that she must not have seen me arrive wearing the mask.
“How can you not remember?” she asked, her eyes narrowed with doubt.
“I just don’t. What’s the big deal? I’m almost 17 and you’ve never said anything before!”
The room fell silent again. I could tell that she was deciding if she should push the issue or not. I wondered if the elephant in the room would finally be addressed. She had always warned me of my “condition” but never bothered to divulge the origin of my problem. I was getting more irritated by the second as she stood there staring at me like I was some freak show as opposed to her son.
“I’ve got to go to school, you know? Is there anything else you want to say to me?” I said, letting my anger resonate in my voice and facial expression. Just tell me what I want to know! I screamed inside my head. But I knew that she wouldn’t. She always avoided it. I had asked her countless times to tell me why I am the way I am but she would always deflect with some clichéd nonsense about God working in mysterious ways.
“I’m just worried about you, Adam,” she said softly.
I turned and I headed for the exit. “Well you shouldn’t worry about me. I’m virtually indestructible, but you probably already knew that.”
She stood in silence as I exited the room.
23. BIG BROTHER