Pawprints chapter 2

I heard his rough voice as he coughed and swallowed hard. I was frozen in place ears pricked to hear his every movement. The clanking of bottles, the shuffle of his feet, how many steps was he taking? Going to my room or his? I closed my eyes tightly as I waited. His footsteps growing ever closer, I could hear my heart thud in my chest as he hesitated outside my door. Had it been closed when I got home? Or had it been opened? I didn’t remember but I knew one thing. I was in deep shit. After last nights beatings and the face-plant on the road I didn’t know how much more I could take.
He opened my door slowly; the jiggling of the knob made me close my eyes tighter. I tried to focus on things better then this, Cory, Jimmer, mom’s dead body, anything better then this. It didn’t help. He still grabbed me by my hair. He still pulled me down into the basement, and he still hurt me.

I woke in the morning on the cold floor of the basement; slowly I sat up and wiped blood from my face. This was normal for me. People like me were overprotected or beaten or abandoned. I was simply beaten like a half dead animal. The inescapable pain in my legs made me stretch them out, fire lacing through my muscles was the only way I could describe it. Slowly I pulled my pant legs up and saw that my legs were almost fully dark blue. It took a lot to break someone’s legs; dad had just beaten at my muscles. I stood carefully, precariously, waiting until I was sure I wouldn’t fall over before taking the few steps to the stairs and up them, I could tell a muscle had been ripped in my right calf. It hurt and I limped slightly but otherwise ignored it. Today was Saturday. There would be no cake, no ice cream, no presents, no ‘happy birthday Casey’ signs, nothing. I had nothing and liked it that way. I didn’t deserve to be near anyone, I would hurt them. I surely didn’t deserve to celebrate my birthday.
I struggled up the stairs and to my bedroom, it smelled of good old liquor and blood. That was just the absolute best smell in the world…isn’t it? Thank goodness for my sarcasm, I’d have gone insane without it. I slipped into my bedroom and closed the door, not bothering to smell for my dad, he was at the toilet as he always was. He only ever leaved it to eat, sleep, beat me and get another drink. Can’t leave, can’t stay.
---I collect a tiger printed skirt, ironic really, a pair of blue jeans and a black tee before going into the bathroom and taking a hot shower. It made me feel alive, standing there in that misty brilliance. The blazing water scalding my skin as I winced and tried to get it to avoid the scraps that were so obviously getting infected, but the hot water had different plans. I loved and hated it, its just how some things work. I got out of the shower slowly, very carefully, padding around my vomit covered father. I let him wallow in it. If he didn’t want me to clean up then I wouldn’t. I think it had to do with mom though; she used to be a neat freak, so if he saw me cleaning he might one day mistake me for her, I did look a lot like her after all. That’d be a snowballs day in hell.
I crept back to my room and dressed quickly, tying my unruly hair back into a braid and slinking toward my shoes, I of course pulled my socks on before shoving my feet within my cold shoes and grabbing my long-board, slipping to the kitchen and leaning the slender transportation device against a counter. I collected the milk, I was lucky it wasn’t sour, a bowl and a spoon before heading to the cupboard and pulling out the box of frosted flakes, smiling weakly at past memories. I missed him, so much, but he was gone and I would live. I poured myself a bowl and sat down devouring it before cleaning my mess, taking wary glances at the bathroom I decided to wash the dishes. After I had finished, I grabbed my long-board and slipped outside into the cool autumn air. Geese were flying south overhead and birds prepared for there winters, either flying south like the robin or cooping up in a hole like the chickadee. I bounded down to the road easefully and stretched out my legs, they still hurt but not as bad as when I woke. My endorphins had probably kicked in and numbed the pain in my calf. I set my long-board down and gave it a nudge before taking a few steps and standing atop it. Soaring down the road was wonderful; the wind in my face and tugging at my braid, though today was not a day for celebration.
It didn’t take long, or very many turns, to get to the cemetery. I pulled my long-board to a stop and stepped off of it, pulling it up and trailing through the gate. It was simple to find the winding path toward the lone headstone. It sat among a large hill, at least thirty yards away from any other grave, for this was reserved for my family. My grandmother had been cremated; I had never met my grandfather. I sat down slowly and stared at the grave. It stated clearly Addalynn Corbin 1977-2009, loving mother and friend, Temper, Temper. In the left hand corner a small tiger cub crouched batting at a butterfly. It was beautiful and depressing. You don’t know how it feels, to know that you’re staring at your mothers grave that the one person you adored with every fiber of your being, the one person who tended to the scraps on your knees and who kiss you goodnight. The person who convinced you Cinderella was real and that bad guys always got defeated…was gone. It’s even worse when you know who did it better then the back of your hand.
I sat there for a while, picking at the sweet smelling moss and shaking leaves from my head as they fell toward the ground, rays of sunlight slanting in to light up the area, giving the headstone a very angelic glow. Mom deserved an angelic headstone. Though I wish I could grind the tiger from the stone. It was horrible. A horrible beast of instinct and intuition, I hated the tiger, with an undying passion. I hated that I would have to look at this grave for two more years before the flare of guilt I held within might subside. I sat there for a long time, I don’t know how long exactly, but the sun was above me when I got up to leave.
That’s when I heard the snapping of a twig and I froze. The wind shifted direction and I could smell it, a fox. My heart started beating in my chest faster then a drum as I desperately searched for birthdays. When was it when was it! I never needed to know before now. Then it dawned on me. Jimmer’s birthday was a day before mine, he was eighteen.

“What do you want” I muttered turning toward the scent.

“Just looking for a bit of friendly conversation” He said stepping from the shadows of the trees and watching me with those dark plotting green eyes a sly smile on his face. I tried to keep eye contact, to show I wasn’t afraid. Though I was scared enough to wet myself. I cast my eyes to the ground as he slowly approached, hesitating in front of me.

“That’s it Corbin, remember who’s older here” he chuckled flatly, though I knew what was going on in his head.

“I swear I’ve told you to shove you’re bushy tail where the sun don’t shine at least once” I growled at him meeting his eyes.

“I’m eighteen, your sixteen, I don’t think you should be sassing me about anything, Kitty cat” He snarled and I could see his canines starting to lengthen. Oh crap why’d I have to go and open my big mouth?
I turned on a dime reaching for my long-board as he tackled me, sending up both tumbling down the hill. Snapping at me as I tried to avoid his fangs, bright red and snowy white fur starting to sprout all over, the cracking of bones telling me what he was trying. He wanted me gone, dead and gone. I don’t know why, but he was hell bent on killing me. By the time we reached the bottom he was full shifted into the fox. I leapt up trying to struggle up the hill, but he bit my hurt calf and made me fall a forth of the way up. I frantically lashed out at him with my foot, kicking hard. I felt my foot land on his head. As he let go of my leg I ran up another forth of the hill, my leg pulsing in pain from the bite. He was again on me, biting into my leg making me fall again. Darting onto my back I could feel the prick of teeth at my neck, hear the laughter of him in my ears, a strange barking sound. Then I heard the sound of wood hitting fur and the pricking at my neck was gone.
I just lay there, waiting for it to return, but it never did. A few feet away there was quite a ruckus, I didn’t really care. I was alive, but what had happened? I didn’t dare move until the rustling died down; slowly I sat up and looked over at the person who had most likely ripped Jimmer from my back. I couldn’t believe the irony of Alex standing there, clutching a stick like some crazy person glaring into the bushes.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I was so happy he was, but if he was stalking me there was going to be hell to pay. I tried to stand, at first I couldn’t, but I pulled through the pain and stood. I really needed to just chill out for a few days and get rid of all these bruises and scrapes and now fox bites. Jeez. He turned to me and tilted his head.

--“I heard the commotion, came to see what was up. Why the hell are you at the cemetery on your birthday? What was with the fox?” He said curiously, trying to figure things out wasn’t exactly a good thing for him. If I answered wrong, the whole world I hid could crumble into chaos and turmoil.

“My mom died today, I came to visit her” Not exactly a lie, or really a lie at all, she had died today.
“The fox was rabid, just came out of the bushes and came after me” I told him flatly before turning and hiking up the hill.

“It bit you…and you’re not worried about getting rabies?” He asked following me up the hill, his balance was horrible compared to mine.

“It didn’t break the skin” Lie, lie, lie, lie, lie. What else could I do though? The blood was dripping down my leg to my sock and soaking in the white cotton. I couldn’t tell him Jimmer had rabies then go and tell him ‘yeah he bit me and I’m not going to get rabies’ because that’s not suspicious. We clambered to the top of the hill and I went toward my long-board, picking it up slowly and checking it over. It was fine, it hadn’t even been caught in the cross fire, would I even be able to ride it home? Or would my leg give way going down the road? I would walk, there was no way I was risking it.
Alex looked at my mothers’ headstone, examining it. I could smell the cinnamon and daisies wafting toward me and sighed slightly. He had probably followed me, but I had no proof, and he had just saved me from the fox. It snarled at me again and I sighed nodding slowly before turning and heading down the hill. No chances.

“Casey! Case, wait…please?” I tried to ignore him, but he let the gravity of the hill take him and caught up to me easily.

“Are you sure your alright, you’re limping” he said gesturing toward my leg, he sounded genuinely concerned.

“Yeah just pulled a muscle getting buff” I muttered and he rolled his eyes.

“Case this is serious…” he said gently

“Dude I’m fine” I grumbled coming to the gate at the cemetery. “I’ll be fine”

“Alright…if you start feeling weird though go to the hospital okay?”

“Yeah, yeah” I muttered turning and starting to walk down the road. It wasn’t long before I get home. I carefully slipped inside and went to tend to the bite. I was definitely relaxing for the next day or so. After I tended to the wound I tested it and found I could still walk, he hadn’t gotten a great hold on me, which probably helped me out a lot.
After I tended to the wound I got my long-board and went back outside. There was no way I was going to let dad do anything to me today. I walked instead of riding, my leg was to messed up to ride for the time being, I didn’t have a lot of money in my pocket but I had just enough to buy a burger from a restaurant in town. I devoured it in one sitting, the ketchup, beef, tomatoes, pickles onions lettuce and Mayonnaise all blended together in brilliance. Honor the hamburger. After eating I decided just to roam, not much else to do around here anyway. The town was too tiny to really have anything to do.
I wandered around town for a little while and tilted my head slightly, swallowing hard as I smelled it cinnamon and daisies
Damn it was he stalking me? He had to be stalking me. No…wait…the scent was off, a bit more female. I followed it slowly toward a bakery and looked in the window, the cakes there looked delicious, but I had to look past my sweet tooth and into the shop. Katie Everzon, Alex’s little sister, was sassily instructing the person at the counter on exactly what she wanted. I could almost hear her debating about how a certain frosting was more desirable then another, or that it wasn’t the exact color she wanted. I liked her a lot, she had spunk and wasn’t afraid to tell you what she was thinking. I watched her for a moment as the clerk placed a small cake with black roses and red writing, though I couldn’t see what it said, in a small purple box. And handed it to Katie who passed him the cash she had to pay and stalked away. I chuckled and turned heading back down the road. She reminded me of me. In a weird sort of way, if she wasn’t careful her big mouth would get her into a great deal of trouble. It wasn’t five minutes before I heard my name called by the sweet and sassy voice.

“Casey! Casey Corbin right?” she asked hopping up to me, cradling the cake close to her though not squishing it.

“Yeah” I said a bit warily feeling my eyebrows rise as I watched her curiously.

“You look like you got hit by a bus” she said laughing and I rolled my eyes. I knew I looked like shit, but that was fine by me for now.

“Yeah, yeah I know “I chuckled and tilted my head.

“Oh, oh, Alex told me to get you this because you were all sad ‘cause of your mom!” She said happily holding out the purple box for me. Alex was officially a stalker well it wasn’t really him, so he couldn’t be a stalker. He really needed to release any fantasies he had. I took the box gently and smiled at her.

“Thanks Katie, hey…your brother couldn’t do this by himself, so I guess you’re the one who gets a reward huh?” I asked her ruffling her hair and she nodded.

“Is it a piece of that cake?” she asked eyes wide and I chuckled nodding.

“If you want some then yeah” I said gently nudging her back toward my house. How many times would I go back there?
I let her try out my long-board on the way home. It was hard for her, but after a little while she got the hang of it. When we got there I got two plates and forks and a butter knife. We sat on the porch and ate two large pieces of cake. This was just about the best thing I had done in three years. Just sit there, eating Cake with a young girl who jabbered on about boys and school and how she hated ‘cooking class’. It made me feel…normal.