The Outcast - Chapter Twelve

It's Monday and Spring Break's over, so I'm back in school. I have to say, things are different now, what with Dad being gone and this killer on the loose, stabbing people with a needle. Whenever Marina and Sasha aren't home, I worry. I worry about them, wonder if they're okay, if they'll come back unharmed. They're the only family I have left, I don't want to lose them.

That was quite a scare with Jordan. Almost sent me over the edge. He's been pretty silent these past few days, so I hope to see him in class. But the bell is getting ready to ring, and he's not in his seat. Maybe he's sick today...

But I hope he's okay.

"Hey, loser," comes a voice from in front of me. I lift my gaze from my desk and look up to see McAllen standing over me. I didn't hear him approach, which is strange. I'm usually pretty good at hearing my enemies sneak up on me.

I sigh. What now?

"I heard that drunkard of a father died," he sneers.

A fire rages within me, waiting for me to release it. But I can't; if I do, it'll only cause more trouble. I have to stay calm, even though he's insulting my dad and I want to kill him.... I have to stay calm.

"I was sad to hear that, until I learned it was your father, that is."

The fire grows. I close my eyes.

"Your father was a loser like you."

"Hey," another voice says. It's familiar. I open my eyes and see Jordan making his way to us, fire in his eyes. "Leave him alone."

"Or what?" asks McAllen. "Huh? What are you gonna do about it?" he puffs out his chest to look challenging.

Jordan growls something beneath his breath. "You don't want me for an enemy," he says calmly. I'm surprised he can be so calm at a time like this.

"Why? Think you're tough? Why you still hangin' 'round this loser, anyway?"

"He's not a loser, he's my friend. And I like him better than you."

McAllen's face turns red and he looks at Jordan murderously. "Why you-" he can't finish he's so steamed up. I flinch as his fist goes for Jordan's face and connects. Jordan growls and takes a step forward. In the next moment I'm out of my seat, trying to break the two of them up. They can't be fighting in school. It's just not done.

McAllen throws a hard right at my jaw and connects it, which sends me stumbling over my desk and onto the floor. In the next moment, Jordan has his shoulder and is spinning him around.

"Don't touch him," he growls, and punches McAllen, hard, in the face. McAllen stumbles backward and trips over a desk, plummeting to the ground.

"You bastard," he snarls, jumping to his feet.

"Enough!" I shout, getting between the two again. "Don't fight! Please."

Jordan looks at me and takes a deep breath. He's ready to quite, and I can tell that he doesn't like fighting. McAllen shoves me aside and continues toward Jordan, ready for round two.

Jordan gets into a defensive position, eyes blank and emotionless. I shiver as I look into their depths. His eyes are just so....empty.

"You'll pay for that," McAllen spits, wiping blood from his nose. "I'll make sure you do."

Jordan says nothing, watching him closely. I start to move in between them again, but McAllen shoves me into my seat. Great. Please, guys, don't do this. Don't fight at school. Please. You'll get in a lot of trouble. Please, guys.

McAllen throws a punch at Jordan, who dodges and moves a step away. "You're making the wrong choice," he tells McAllen slowly. "You don't want me for an enemy."

"And you don't want ME for an enemy," says McAllen, snorting. "But you've already made an enemy out of me, and you're gonna pay. Severely."

"Are you threatening me?" Jordan's voice is dull. It scares me for some reason. He just seems so...cold. Once again, I shiver, and not from the coolness from the room. By now, everyone in the class is watching us. I shift uneasily in my seat as they form a circle around us.

"Fight, fight," echo some people. "Fight, fight, fight."

This urges McAllen to run head-on into Jordan. Jordan, who was looking at the crowd around us and trying to stay calm, doesn't expect it. I see what's coming, shout out, but it's far too late.

Jordan's hit in the stomach, hard, and McAllen forces him to the window. It shatters upon impact, and McAllen keeps pushing. Jordan's winded, weakened, and I see blood on the window pieces. He's hurt.

I stare in horror as McAllen tries to force him out the window. I mean, I knew McAllen was mean, but I never thought of him as a murderer! We're on the third floor. Though it's not very high up, there's a bunch of rocks surrounding the school that serves to keep the flowers safe from the people who cut the grass.

"Leave him alone!" I cry out, jumping out of my seat, rushing toward them.

I grab McAllen's arm and somehow pull him away from Jordan. It's not like I'm doing it, though. It's like I'm standing outside of myself and watching me do this. As McAllen's hands slide away from Jordan, Jordan slumps to the ground, leaving a smear of blood on the wall under the window as he does so. His eyes are closed, and his breaths are heavy. He's not moving.

I make this strange sound in the back of my throat and shove McAllen aside, bolting forward to kneel down in front of Jordan. Someone else bends down next to me and slowly pulls Jordan away from the wall. Jordan's head lolls heavily to the side.

His face is turning pale, and his breaths don't look so even.

"....Jordan...?" I hear myself whisper.

The person puts him on the ground and holds his head up while they call for someone to get a towel. Suddenly, they freeze. "Shit," I hear them say.

I look at them. It's Maria, a usually quiet girl who sits at the front of the room. Her eyes are wide and fearful, which just makes my throat that much more constricted.

"What?" I whisper, somehow able to speak.

She pulls her hand out from under his head. Her hand is covered in blood. Jordan's blood.

My eyes widen tremendously, and that strange sound happens at the back of my throat again.

"How....how bad?" I ask, closing my eyes tightly.

It takes a moment for her to answer. "Pretty bad. I don't know how bad the wound is....there's too much blood to pinpoint it exactly."

I choke down a whimper. Please, no.

"Someone get help!" she cries out. Suddenly, she pauses and draws in a sharp breath. "Hurry! He's not breathing!"

This time the whimper comes out, along with a long shudder. Oh, God, no...

Oh, please no.

No, please, God, don't do this.

I hear a chuckling behind me. McAllen. He's laughing! I round on him, fire in my eyes. I rise to my feet and take threatening steps toward him. He looks at me and laughs.

"Told him he'd pay," he says.

I punch him square in the jaw. Once he's on the ground, I kick him in the ribs consistently, refusing to stop. I see red. I can't think through the haze. People are yelling at me to stop, that I'm killing him, but I can't...

He may have just killed Jordan.

And because of me.

It's all my fault....

I'm so sorry, Jordan...

I kick till his yelps die out completely, and even then I don't stop. I don't stop, even as someone grabs me and pulls me away. I'm still trying to kick him.

My throat is sore. I don't realize I'm shouting until I see them bend down next to McAllen. They've all left Jordan alone, alone in a puddle of his own blood. They hurry to McAllen.

How can they be so cruel? He's the one that started it!

Chewing my lower lip, I move toward Jordan. I've never seen him so still, so motionless...

Oh, God, please, you can't do this...please.

I bend down next to him, feeling rather shaken up. Looking at my hands, they're shaking greatly. With rage, with fear...with pain.

Please. Someone, please help him....I don't know what to do.

"Jordan?" I ask slowly. "You'll be okay...." looking around, I look for someone that can help, but they're all around McAllen.

Please...don't just let him die. Please, help him...

Please.