skinblade

Start from the beginning and read Dream #1

Mook was a boy-man and he knew it.

Looking down at the scale he realized that he’d gained another 3 pounds. When will it stop? he thought as he stepped off the scale.

He sat on his bed and stared at the digital clock, it’s red letters vibrating with a hidden electrical rhythm. He moved his eyes over to the door as his mother swung the door open.

“Andale, mijo!” she said in her tiny Hispanic voice. “Dinner’s almost ready.”

“I’m eating over at Phil’s house tonight, mama.”

Lies. He hated to lie to his mother after everything she had sacrificed for him. He looked down at her hands – wrinkled and scarred. A fresh cut with a blood stained bandage was now the norm. America needed it’s vegetables packed into frozen cubes, and his mother was lucky enough to be on the line cutting the bad pieces away.

He kissed her goodbye and lumbered out the front door. He jumped on his beach cruiser and peddled down the street towards the water tower. He’d be there a lot earlier than the other guys, but it gave him some more time to be alone and gather his thoughts. It was so hard to think nowadays.

There is something wrong with me, he thought. There must be something wrong with me.

Ever since his growth spurt started there was a ball of resentment growing inside of him. He wanted to be normal like the other kids, but instead he was trapped in this gigantic body of his. He was slow, clumsy. The other kids called him Mook as a joke, but he had grown used to it so he barely noticed when they used the derogatory term.

Resentment was growing into anger and he now, stereotypically, desired to smash things. Like a stupid ogre, he wanted to destroy everything that was smaller than him.

I am better than that, he thought.

He was a bright student before puberty. Now his mind was clouded with emotion and impulses he could hardly control. Dink and Pill only egged him on. They pointed out things that they knew would cause him to fly off the handle. They loved to see him pummel little kids into submission, and, sadly, he loved it too.

Why else would he do it? Why else would he continue to hang out with those idiots?

Why else would he be peddling towards the water tower now?

Why else would he agree to help them raise a demon?

Continue reading: Dream #10 - Delilah Feels Pain, I Do Not