Racing Wind- Chapter 2- Edited

Chapter 2 edited and made better, give it a read and tell me what you think.

It was freezing when I finally woke up, cold and shaky. At first I felt the wet underneath me and came to the conclusion that I had wet the bed, but it soon was made apparent that the hard wet surface beneath me was not my bed. I was on the pavement.

I tried to stand but my head rung with the horrible white noise and my legs gave way beneath me. I looked down at myself; my best jeans where torn in several places, bruises lined each of my limbs like ribbons and a deep gash in my leg oozed with horrible red blood. I was in an alley, though I could hear the bustling traffic of the main road nearby. I tried to remember the night before, what I was doing, where I was going but I was met with the same white noise. I had patches of sweat set deep into my clothes and strange yellow fur was spread around the alley way like snow. Gingerly I picked myself up, though my legs still shook violently. I wondered if I should go to the police station, but then I thought of all the questions I would have to face, the ones I still couldn’t answer. Then I thought of Mum, how much she would be worrying about me, I had to get back to her.

I was closer to the main road than I first thought, and as soon as I hobbled to the end of the alley way, I was met with the overwhelming smell of traffic that had to be the highway. It was busier than usual, a lot busier, queues of cars were lined up in either direction, all stopped by a large crowd of policemen. It was a road accident, a truck lay on its side, a huge dent running down the back, several cars were piled up upon each other obviously victims of the crash and the same yellow fur in the alley way was scattered through the road. The blinding light burned through my forehead, breaking my gaze, forcing me to walk on to the bus stop. There was a mass of people waiting, held up by the traffic, I felt there gaze on me and my cheeks blushed a furiously scarlet.

“Are you alright love?” I looked up, a middle aged man stood over me, a very concerned expression on his face as he gazed over my bruises.

“Umm yeah, I tripped” I mumbled, impatiently waiting as the bus lugged its way through the traffic.

He didn’t seem convinced “Are you sure? That looks like a pretty deep cut.”

I burbled something inconclusively to him before moving quickly onto the bus.

The number 13 was sweaty, and the coat that felt so thin on my back now felt a thick as my ski jacket. I sat right at the back of the bus, facing the window so no one would see my face but some of the old ladies saw the tears in my jeans and started to whisper to each other, loud enough for me to hear. I got off two stops early; one of the whispering grannies had produced a mobile and I was sure they were ready to dial for an ambulance or some obscene emergency vehicle.

It was so much different at Craelford. Each house was lined parallel to the one before it, all of the perfect buildings resembling the appearance of a show home. Children played noisily in the streets till dusk, undisturbed by the drunks that roamed Fairfield. Their mother’s would call them in and each would share a perfect family roast, going to bed full and aware of their safe suburban life. It was noon when I reached Putney Street, and walked up number 42’s drive. Mum’s car was parked opposite in the same spot it always was and the TV blared nosily through an open window.

“Mum I’m home!” I sang through the letter box. , banging hard on the knocker. The house remained silent.

“Mum!!” I shouted for the second time with no success. I was about to turn back to Dad’s when I saw the tiny crack of light at the side of the door, it was open.

“Hello?” I said, pushing it to. The house was very much inhabited, with the whistle of the kettle boiling and several lights shining brightly in the lounge. Mum had to be in, she was probably in the garden watering the flowers, she’s always out there, with her flowers. She said she loved flowers more than anything in the world; I used to pucker my lip and say what about me, she would snuggle me up in her arms and say I was her little flower too.

I ran straight out into the garden, ready to find her pottering about the grass in her overalls like she always was. The garden lay empty, the flowers slightly wilted from the dry bout we had been going through. The house was still uninhabited when I returned, the kettle buzzing away none the different. But now it all felt wrong, the white noise in my head was gone, replaced by this numbness that made shivers creep up my spine like spiders. I saw it on the sofa, the lump. It was about the size of a beanbag, but it was clumped together at weird places, more elongated and detailed. I stopped in my tracks, it was moving.

It squirmed from side to side, making strange shrill noises, it then occurred to me that it might be a person. What kind of a burglar would hide under a blanket?

I took hold of the glass lamp I had got Mum for Christmas present and reached out to the sheet. I took a deep breath, and ripped the cover off in one swift motion.

It was a person, tied down with long pieces of rope and gagged at the mouth, I screamed, it wasn’t a burglar, it was Mum.

She was looking towards me but not at me, like she hadn’t heard my scream or seen my eyes pleading a response. Her shoulders and arms where jolting from side to side in spasm, yet her eyes stared blankly towards me, cold and empty like the pit of my stomach.

“Mum!” I screamed, shaking her, tearing away at the ropes that bound us apart. “Wake up!!”

“She can’t hear you.”

I jumped around

Two figures appeared behind me, seemingly out of the thin air. They were dressed in tight fitted green jackets that almost clung to their bodies like a second layer of skin. But I barley glanced at their clothing, all my attention was focused on the hard metal guns brandished in their hands. The taller of the two stepped forward; he wore a black cap that hid his hair colour but his eyebrows where ginger and his face dark and defined with heavy cheek bones. I was frozen, unable to think or breath, numbed by both the surprise and shock of the situation. I was being held at gun point in my own house, while my mother was kept as some sort of hostage. This stuff just didn’t happen in real life, it was the material of movies and action novels or some kid’s twisted dream.

The dark man took another step forward and I jumped, suddenly unbroken from my trance as natural instincts took over. The second of the two, still hidden in shadow raised his hands up to me in a peace sign, but at the same time the first had his gun pointed to my head. Without thinking I swung the lampshade widely forward, making an inaccurate miss. Neither flinched, an almost sick smile playing on the taller’s face. It was an unnatural, almost inhuman reaction and it scared the hell out of me. My hands gripped the lampshade tighter as I felt a strongly instinctive growl rise in my throat. Without pause, the dark man rubbed his hands together in a swift action and all of a sudden the growl in my throat succumbed to a whisper. It was the strangest feeling, I was seeing these people in front of me, remembering all this anger and terror that suddenly was so distant, out of reach. I didn’t hate these men, with their guns, I didn’t think anything of them, they were just people now, less threatening, they were nothing. I dropped the lamp shade and it shattered noisy on the floor, emotionless thoughts running through my head like a colourless picture. It was as if my head had become a repainted canvas, I could sense those past memories but I couldn’t see them, there was too much thick white paint blocking my way.

“Thank you” said the man hidden in shadow, I stared back at him hollowly. “But I think there’s no need for that Omar, she will understand.”

The other man, supposedly Omar, looked back horrified. “But sir, she’ll shift..”

He cut him off, putting a hand to his face and letting his gun drop “Omar! Listen to me.”

The man seemed to have some authority over him as Omar grimaced at me. I stared back at the pair, frozen in a weird robotic stance. He glanced back at his superior for reassurance before letting his hands rub together reluctantly.

I almost screamed. Sudden realisation coursed through my veins, I was on fire with horror and fear, comparative to a plaster ripped off prematurely to reveal a painful, ugly wound. I let a series of curses flood out of my mouth as I ran to mum, clutching her head to mine.

“You monsters! What the hell did you do to her?” I screamed at them, as Mum continued to spasm in my arms. I tried to search into her eyes for some response but I found none, she was empty and cold.

“She’ll be fine in a few hours, you just need to calm down” said Omar, talking a step forward to me and Mum. I didn’t want him anywhere us, he was intruding. A low growl rumbled deep in my chest as I stepped in front of Mum, they couldn’t get close to her.

“Sir....” stuttered Omar, trying to raise his hands again.

“No Omar, it’s too late, just grab her” ordered the other man

They all started walking towards me, their shadows growing taller with each step closer they took. I felt a second growl rise in my throat and the hairs than had suddenly appeared on my back stuck up on end.

It all came in a rush after that.

Both of the men leapt at me, pulling my face to the ground. I snarled at them, trying to retch free of their grasp but it was all too late. I felt the man’s hand rest on my shoulder and saw a flash of his yellow eye. Then all of a sudden an overwhelming sense of cold came over me and I was sent off into a long icy sleep, the image of the man’s yellow eyes repeating a thousand times over.