Dancing with Roaches: Chapter 2
Sorry about the long hiatus for this next chapter. I really hoped to get it out sooner, but I was unable too. So, without further adue. Here it is.
The sound of shattering glass echoed through the hollow halls. Crippling underneath the rising breath of anger, the air began more dense. A small, orange-tinted pill-bottle rolled out behind the opened bathroom door. "They don't work!" Alex cried out.
Facing himself in the mirror, the husky's breath began to harden. The thickness of his flared nostrils began to act like a vaccum, sucking in as much as it could all before the quick realese. The silvery eyes glared back at the dog through a broken door; and forced the image of misery into his mind. Alex's face seemed to puff out more as his fur rised to stand on its end.
Clenching his right paw, the husky let out a swift punch to the mirror. The remaining glass fell to its demise upon the dusty floor. The knuckles on Alex's paws were sliced and blood wrapped around his curled fingers. The tips of his claws pierced the front of his furry palm.
"I'd hate to say it," Alex's whole body jumped at the sound of a voice. Turning to face the newcomer, Alex saw his mother standing at the doorway. "But I told you they wouldn't work."
Tossing the small bottle over to Alex, Alex snatched the bottle out of the air. The pills shook and rattled inside the small container, the huskies didn't pay attention to this. Both of them, family they may be, stood there and stared, waiting for the other to say the next few words.
The mother broke eyes first, Rose didn't feel like having an argument with her son; at least, not today. She walked past the room, carrying a large bag silhouetting a dress. Why does she look at me like that? Is all Alex can think when he sees the pain in his mother's eyes. She refuses to say a word, but when she does it is filled with the spawn of sin.
Looking down at the mess he created, Alex starts to feel guilt. Swallowing his pride is the least he could do. The husky briskly headed out of the bathroom door and headed straight down the narrow hall. Turning the knob of the next door he saw, Alex opened up the supply closet.
It didn't take him long to find the yellow-tipped broom and dirt-pasted scooper. He recently placed the two, very, familiar objects in this closet only two days ago. Pain could only make-up the life revolving his mind. Alex wished to get better; he showed improvements, according to his psychatrist.
"Story of my life." Alex mumbled, leaning over the broom as he swept up his mess. Every swept piece of glass in the scooper resembled every memory forever tainted with spite.
The mess didn't take long to clean up, the husky was used to this kind of thing. Break something every once and a while, be locked in a battle of dirty looks, and then cleaning it up before trouble fell before him. The routine had become dull over the years.
Once more, the husky bustled out of the bathroom and stuffed the cleaning utensils back in the closet. Alex's ears fell to his head quite depressed. His thoughts roamed around his world and back, as he climbed up the stairs of his parent's perfect home. The great, white home the pair of huskies always dreamed of. One of where they could spend the rest of their lives together.
There is a rumor going around, Alex's mind set onto a touchy topic of his. One of where he never brought up to his parents, whatever the cost. that your parents... "Oh, sorry sir!" A meek tabby cried, knocked backwards when she unknowningly walked in Alex. The brown-and-white spot female quickly ran off, Shea was her name. The cat was the person who told Alex of the rumor.
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* * *
Lightning flashed as thunder boomed, signaling Dylan's eyes to open. The jackal searched around him, frightened from almost nothing. It didn't take him long to realize what to be afraid of, he was stuck. His body, frozen, unable to budge an inch.
Struggling against invisible restraints accomplished him no milestone. Dylan's head was forced to face forward. Grunts squeezed through his tight lips, feeling as though something wrapped firm was encasing his muzzle. Enraged by the madness, his attempts to break free did not cease. The dim, cold eyes that, felt no emotion, became colder when greeted by a child's voice.
"Itsy bitsy spider," A yellow, flickering spotlight appeared before Dylan. Its flourescent beams focused on only one thing. That one thing being a little tigress, dressed in a neon-yellow dress. "Crawled up the water spout." Her voice slowly etched the words into Dylan's brain, mending the shattered memories. The familiar nursery rhyme hung low in his mind, untill now. "Down came the rain and-"
"-Flushed the spider out!" A new voice put a noose in the jackal's throat. Its harsh tone echoed through his perked ears. One hefty, clawed hand rested on Dylan's right shoulder as knife-like claws penetrated his skin. Fresh splots of blood appeared and rusted around the claws' tips.
The tigress continued to sing the little song, unaware of the jackal trapped in the shadows. "I love this song, don't you?" The harsh voice slithered its cunning words into Dylan's ears. A thin tongue could be felt lingering about his left ear. Dylan itched to get away from the mess, get away from the monster.
His wish came true as he heard a faint noise, screeching, fill his mind. He felt more confused at this current situation as there was nothing to make such a noise. He fought against the urge to look around, as he knew it would be pointless. His neck was currently immobile and it would become a wasted effort.
Tightening its grip on Dylan's shoulder, the creature spoke once more. "I do hope to see you, again." Sensing the monster to look off in the tigress's direction, Dylan watched as she let out the last few words to the song.
"-And the itsy bitsy spider climbed up the spout again." The shy, soft voice on the her was music enough to Dylan's ears. The cool tone of the once happy nursery rhyme, sent shivers down the jackal's spine. He could feel his own eyes becoming soft, especially when she finally acknowledged that the jackal was there.
* * *
Startled from his sleep, the jackal woke up to the sound of the subway slowing down. His head was throbbing and he could hardly keep his eyes open. The ache in his jaw was all that remained after stretching. One last yawn was to be let out before Dylan would feel alive once more.
Taking on his old cell phone, the jackal read the time aloud. "10:53." It was night, of course, as the jackal just got off his shift at the old people's home. Working most hours of the day killed the canine, but it something that had to be done. Money was most defianitly tight these days. Some days he would consider walking into an old drug store and stealing whatever he could carry, but he never did it. He wasn't afraid of being caught; he was afraid of leaving psychos like Jim alone with his sister.
The teeth-curling sound hastely arrived in Dylan's ears as the doors opened wide. Furs on the subway were already moving from their seats, wanting to get off the trash filled car. The jackal literally could feel the wretched stench of waste products from miserable passengers seep into the black fur stretched along his back.
It didn't bother the jackal much, anymore. He had to grow acustom with these strange occurencies. But he was always more than happy to get off the over-run subway, just so he could taste something that was closer to fresh air than drying feces.
Escaping from the colossal mass of fumes, Dylan ran through the piles of newspaper being thrown around by the subway gaining an instant rush of speed. They clunged tightly around his ankles before all their hope was lost and the paper disappeared into the dark tunnel.
Almost as if he held his breath the whole time, Dylan let out a great sigh of relief. He was out under the night sky and blooming stars. Towering buildings surrounded his micro frame, compared to them. About a thousand other furs shared his experience, but they didn't stand there and wonder: This is where I will forever stand in this world. Dylan knew that the meaning varied from fur-to-fur, but he couldn't help himself by not thinking everyone dreamed for something better. It is one of the most human [and I use the term human very loosely here] characteristics about them. Striving for something greater.
Dylan just wished that everything would change for him, and his family. Taking off down the paved streets of the city. He had a long walk before he even came close to home, which was a apartment home in the shadest part of that neighborhood. Dylan didn't even know the first name to his neighbors right next door, let alone his landlord's name. The two rarely made contact as the rent was the first bill to go in Dylan's book.
Although, Dylan was sure most of his mother's 'clients' lived just down the road of their home. No one bothered to rat his mother out, as most residents there were horny, middle-aged men. Selling out their closest thing to a sexual life would be a massive downfall to their pride.
Dylan doubted most of them would turn to each other to supply their needs, minus Jim, of course. The jackal really started to get annoyed with the boar, showing up every night for the past week. Then picking at the jackal to show him the slightest bit of skin, hoping to get lucky. Dylan knew better, even when Jim offered a fair bit of money, and refused his offers every time. But the ambition in the boar's eyes only flamed brighter.
Finally reaching his run-down home, Dylan opened the door to the sound of moaning and squeaking. This sound also became very familiar to the jackal, expecting to hear it everytime he opened the door. "Oh yeah!" He heard a male's voice squealing. Didn't take long before Dylan knew who it was.
Shutting and bolting the door, out of habit, Dylan sat down at the kitchen table. He was relieved to see that there were no bills that needed sorting and that he could go straight to bed. Then, his phone began ringing. As a response, he answered. "Hello?"
"Hey, Dylan. How's it going?" It was a female's voice. One who sounded to be the same age as the jackal.
"Sorry, who is this?" The voice was familiar but he couldn't quite put his paw on it.
"It is Gwen, silly." Gwen sounded shock when the jackal didn't recognize her voice. But the name rang all the memories in Dylan's head.
"Oh, Gwen! How are you?" Dylan did his best to act happy but in all reality he felt like blowing his brains out when the squeaking of a rusty bed-frame grew louder. He was happy to be able to talk to someone who liked him, sort of.
"I'm doing just fine, thank you." She giggled, that was one of the tigresses' trade-marks.
"That's great," Dylan said.
"So, how go things in your life?"
Dylan wavered his head back-and-forth, deciding if he should tell her the straight answer or not. "Oh, you know, same-ole same-ole. Nothing is really new." Dylan could even sense the mixed emotions in his words as he spoke.
The phone went quiet and Dylan's heart began to race. At first, he didn't know what to think as Gwen had yet to respond. "Okay, but take good care of yourself." That was all Gwen could say to Dylan at the moment.
"Thanks Gwen, I will." The squeaking stopped and Dylan didn't want Gwen to hear whatever Jim had to say, so he finished the conversation. "Sorry, but I gotta go, bye." Hanging up and stuffing his pocket with the phone, Jim's musky scent could be smelled at the top of the stairs.
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* * *
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Alex flopped down onto his bed and panned his paw over the nightstand beside his bed. He only felt around before a second before he stripped a thin piece of paper from the wooden counter. Hold the letter in front of his face, Alex read the letter for about the hundreth time.
Dear Alex,
I'm so glad that we met that one night a week ago. I was having a rather bad day and you just made it brighter with your smile. I do wish I could have met your for our date tonight, but something else popped up. I hope to see you again as soon as I can. I kind of hope we can see each other once more before the school year starts, but who knows. I may even see you tomorrow. Thank you.
Love,
Sarah
Just reading this made Alex float with joy. Everytime he read this letter, it gave him hope. Hope that he could start fresh, hope to find out that he wasn't worthless. It was a spark that struck him deep in his core. His only regret being that the date itself didn't occur. Even then, without the slighest hesitation, Alex mentally accepted the letter. He knew he cared for this girl and wished to see her once more.
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There is a rumor going around about your parents, the other maids claimed that they heard them arguing about not wanting to have child. That you were just a mistake in their eyes.