The air felt…cold. Almost as if he was lying in water. With his fingers, he could feel the rise and falls of the waves around him. He felt comfortable.
"Clay, mom said she wants you!" The sound of a small Kayla brought the man back to his senses. This place was familiar.
A little too much.
He looked to his side to see the child running from the beach house he and his family once owned. Her eyes brown, hair black. She looked like the perfect mixture of mom and dad. Then here he was, a child that just took genes from one parent and didn't pay the other any mind. That's probably why she hated him so much.
"Did she say what for?" Clayton could feel his mouth moving on his own. Like he was a bystander in his own life. Like he was watching a tape.
"Nah, she just said it was urgent. How much do you want to bet that it's about school?" There was a time when she was right. He was eight when he and parents would constantly go back and forth from school to reprimand him on his behavior. Whether it was him fighting over a marker, or the fact that simply didn't want to do work. Mom and dad always received a phone call. In fact, when he started getting his act together, it seemed more like a miracle to them than maturity. In their eyes, he was a lost cause.
Without Clayton's permission, his child-like body began to move. When he was younger, he'd love going to see what his mom wanted. Did she need help setting the table? Washing the dog? But… if he knew what was going to happen, he would've stayed far away from his beloved mother. As he moved, he could feel the ocean water slowly falling off his back. He knew he'd be sunburnt later, but he didn't care. Then and there, the only thing that mattered was having fun and being yourself.
"Liar."
The sound of whispering brought Clayton's mind to a halt. His body, on the other hand, still moved. Who was that? That wasn't in his memory. The thought disappeared as quickly as it came as he realized who it was sitting on his bed.
"Hey… Mom." Clayton's mouth moves once again, involuntary. He watched as the brown haired, brown eyed woman sat on his bed with a disappointed look. On her lap, numerous things laid upon it.
One, was a tablet that he had received two Christmases ago. The casing was a dark military green while the design on it… wasn't so strong looking. Because he and Kayla shared the device, it was covered with stickers of smiley faces, makeup and other so-called "girly" things.
Secondly, was a scrapbook he's been making since the beginning of third grade. Since the teacher wanted the student to "appreciate the time they have now" She gave them a year long assignment to scrap their favorite moments. Most kids took random photos, trying to fill whatever they can for a good grade. Not him, though. He truly wanted to appreciate every possibility. Whenever he found something happy, or nice, he found himself clicking a photo of the scene. Most of the time, he found himself clicking photos of others. Friends, families. Anyone who made his life worthwhile.
And lastly, was a flag. It wasn't a huge one, just small enough for it to attach to a little pole. He'd received it from a friend when he started to transfer to his new school. His father worked as a construction worker, so traveling wherever there was work to be done, seemed appropriate. Now with finally getting a job that kept him stable, this was the last move. Of course they'd move to summer places like this one, but not more changing houses, schools, or friends.
As he sat alone at the playground, he couldn't help but feel self-conscious about his behavior. What did they think of him? Did he seem cocky when introducing himself? What was wrong? As thoughts wrestled in his brain, he didn't know that there was someone waiting for the right time to speak.
"Uh…hi." Clayton looks over to see who was speaking. He couldn't have been more than four-ten. His eyes were a light caramel color which conflicted with his dark hair. On his shirt was a picture of a basic green dinosaur doing the classic "rawr." Clayton couldn't help but to internally laugh at the kids' fashion choice. "You came from Kentucky, right? What's it like down there?" After hearing the boy's voice, Clayton knew immediately that he wanted to be friends with him. Excitedly, The loner quickly notified the boy to sit down.
As they talked, it felt…relaxing. Clayton couldn't understand it, but it felt like they've known each other for years. As the conversation continued, Clayton couldn't help but wonder about the contents of their friendship. Would they talk everyday? Or would they occasionally wave to each other in the halls? But all thoughts in his head ceased after he heard the boy who stated his name as Pharaoh asked,
"Do you like guys?" His question caused a wave of confusion to waft through the other. Well.. he liked Pharaoh. So…he guesses he does. But what if Pharaoh doesn't like him? He could look like an idiot.
"Do you?" His question caused Pharaoh to think for a while before speaking. Did he like Clayton? He had to, right? Then why would he talk to him?
"I see guys kissing each other on TV, I think I could do that. How about you?" After hearing the other's words, Clayton nodded before saying he could as well. Although, the thought never crossed his mind, being with a guy couldn't be that different than a girl could it? His mom always tried to get him with a girl from his class, but he never seems to like them. It wasn't because they were ugly, it was just…complicated. At least that's what he used to tell his mom. A few days later, Pharaoh came to school with two rainbow colored flags. One for him and one for the other to keep. As long as they lived, they promised not to tell their parents.
But now here she was. Sitting on his bed. Holding several things he always tried to keep from her. Deep down he knew, that he was fucked.
The next few moments seem to flash by. The yelling, the screaming, Kayla having to come in and separate her hand from his face. When the ten year old surprisingly managed to pierce their way between him and his mother. The words that surged through that woman's mouth was enough to give him years of pain.
"It's that boy, isn't it. That's why I've called his parent's to check him as well." With a sudden flash, Clayton knew why he was here. Before he could do nothing, but watch the events before him happen, now… he could move. She called Pharaoh's parents? Why didn't he hear that before? Did she say that before? Now that he thought about it, this happened a week before the child disappeared. As the realization hit him. He could feel water running from his eyes, mixing with the blood, then down to his shirt.
All this time, he thought he had nothing to do with Pharaoh. He thought he was helpless against the people who murdered him. But he was wrong. In reality, he was the people who banded the group together
To kill a child.
Eyes still feeling wet, Clayton managed to see the world around him slowly fading. It gave a pixelated transition before he stood alone.
In darkness.
Eyes still trying to adjust, the man could feel his body becoming more adult-like. Good, because he didn't like that memory in the slightest. After he rubbed his eyes for a good bit, he started to look around for some light source. Something to help him from what he's just experienced.
Is that why Pharaoh told him to let go? So he could show him why he died? It was all his fault. Wasn't it? As he trudged along he was soon met with a familiar face.
Yasmine.
For the first time in a while, a smile managed to wipe itself across his face. She was here? All this time. As he began to move closer to her wife, he noticed her sad, yet scared expression.
"Yas, is everything alright?"
"No Clay," Her hands start to shiver as starts to turn around. "I just watched my parents kill my brother."