Sins of the Father: Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Screaming, Morgan awoke. Pain filled his body. His skin, flames of ice, burned. Falling from his bed and flailing to the floor, Morgan could not stop the quivering mass that was his body. Then, as quickly as the pain came, it stopped. The lights in his bedroom erupted as his mother rushed into his room.
“Morgan, are you alright?” she asked, worriedly looking at her son.
Trying to justify the strange occurrence that just happened but coming up with nothing, he replied lamely, “Yeah, I’m fine. It must have been a nightmare.”
“Are you sure? You haven’t had nightmare like this since--since you were twelve.”
Morgan looked up at his mother, remembering the time six years ago that he found himself in the familiar position. The night before Morgan’s twelfth birthday, he had had a similar nightmare where he had woken up screaming and in pain. If it was a nightmare, he thought, than six years is a long time to remember. Strange that it occurred at the same time too. Taking his eyes from his other and looking around the room, his eyes stopped at the alarm clock. The time was 12:01.
“Morgan, you gonna be okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine, Mom. Go back to sleep.”
His mother looked at her son, knowing she could do nothing about the dream, and left the room. Morgan stood up, stretching his sore muscles, and crossed the room to the window. Drawing the blinds, he saw what the storm had done. The storm that had been blowing when he went to bed had laid a small blanket of snow on the ground, but now it was raining, ruining the chance of a snow day on his birthday. He closed the blinds, turned off the lights, and sat on his bed. Hoping for sleep, he lay down and looked at the ceiling. Eventually, sleep came.

Darkness surrounded footsteps. The footsteps skidded to a stop, as if pushed down, but quickly started up again. From the shadows, a young man’s face, pale, slight, and scared appeared.. He is alone, running as if the seekers of death were at his heels. The encroaching darkness that surrounded the boy continued to advance, destroying any safe havens to hide in. The young man looked anywhere for an escape, a way out. Nothing. There was nothing. He continued to run, hoping to escape, hoping to be fast enough, and hoping to continue to live.
Gasping for air, the young man felt the darkness on the nape of his neck, breathing the cold, moist trickle of sweat down his spine. Suddenly he, glances behind him, stumbles, and falls on his knees. Unable to stand, he turns to look back towards what he fears.

An alarm sounded in the young man’s room, as his mother called from the rooms below him.
Swinging his legs over the bed, Morgan rubbed his eyes, trying to forget the nightmare that had been plaguing him for the last few nights. Standing up, he started towards the bathroom in the hallway to get ready for school. After his shower, he looked out of his window, hoping to see snow. He peered through his curtains and saw the aftermath of the storm the night before. Water was everywhere, but there was no longer any snow on the ground.
He quickly got dressed and walked down the steps of his mother’s and his townhouse. He walked around the living room, picking up carelessly thrown books and stuffed them into his bag. Grabbing some toast, he walked to the door where he found a note from his mother.
“Son,
I’ll be home later tonight. I have a late client. Enjoy the game, I won’t wait up. Happy Birthday.
Love,
Mom”
Taking the note in hand, he walked out of the house and over to his car. His eighteenth birthday present from his mother, the beat-up old jeep was beautiful. Although the machine was old and falling apart, it was exactly what he wanted. Being obsessed with machines, the jeep was everything he ever wanted in a car. He climbed into the torn, leather driver’s seat, and started the ignition.
Turning the key, the car sputtered, coughed, and sprung to life. “That’s my girl,” Morgan said, lightly caressing the dashboard. Throwing the car into gear, he drove out of the parking lot of the townhouse and to school.

The long halls of Jefferson High loomed in front of Bridget. Every day, Bridget hoped that something would happen to the school: burned, bombed, or destroyed in some way, anything so she would not have to wander the halls alone again. Students around her laughed and enjoyed themselves, as they cantered into school, talking about the upcoming game.
Her eyes glanced over the students as they began to enter the school, each one similar to the next. Everyone was the same, except for her. Her raven hair clashed with the hundreds of blond heads around her. With a sigh, she started up the stairs to the school. With the first step, her bag’s strap snapped, sending her belongings to the flagstones.
“Here, let me,” a voice called from above her.
“No, it’s--” she started, as she looked up, seeing the voice for the first time. Haunting eyes, covered with downy eyelashes, looked kindly down on her, embracing every inch of her. Bronze strings of hair covered his almost boyish face as he looked down at her belongings, starting to place them in a pile so that she could carry them and her, now broken, bag. The boy stood up and continued to walk up the steps to the school. Blushing, she looked at the boy. He stopped and helped me, she thought to herself. “Maybe today won’t be to bad.” She quietly said to herself. Standing up, she quickly repositioned her belongings and ran up the stairs to the front doors of the school. Looking down at the stairs, taking two at a time, she ran into something hard, and tripped down the stairs she just ran up.
“Where you going, Casper,” called the boy she ran into. The Students around the boy began laughing. As Bridget looked up, scanning the faces for someone to help her, her eyes find the boy that helped her earlier. He was laughing. The tardy bell rang, bringing the laughing students into the halls of the school.
Bridget’s schoolbooks and papers surrounded her on the wet stairs, pool around her. The wind picked up, scattering her now sodden books and papers about the schoolyard. She began to quickly retrieve her supplies, as rain and tears fell onto her face. She thought to herself, "Another day in paradise."