Toxicity

CHAPTER ONE

         Something in Jack's subconscious drew him near the pond. He was warned to stay away from it, but he found the brown-colored water so fascinating. He and his family moved from the the city to the country a few weeks before, and he hadn't made any friends. Of course, it was still summer, but the nearest neighbor was forty acres away and she didn't have kids. He considered himself a loser; he was fifteen and yet to have a girlfriend. The boys at his old school would poke fun at him because of his quiet and humble nature. He knew he wouldn't make any friends at his new school. It was sad that depression set in on him so early in life. With this load on his mind, the pond was the only place he could get away from his fighting parents and annoying little sister, Brenda.

         “Jackson Jermaine Hurt, get away from that water!” It was his mother, and she ran vigorously out of the woods. He knew she would follow him. Which is why he didn't make himself too comfortable on the dock.

         She grabbed his shoulders and glared in to his eyes. “You can't swim. What if you fell in? Nobody would be here to save you.”

         Jack hated it when his mother would act overprotective. It frustrated him that she treated him like a baby, but it was more than he could say about his father. He didn't want to break her heart but he needed her to know he was almost a grown man. Yet he couldn't because his father would conjure up some savage punishment he didn't deserve. He constantly wished he was in some other place. Sometimes, that he was never born at all. Nothing mattered anymore to him. Which was maybe why he blurted “Mom, I'm fifteen. Maybe I could learn how to swim.”

         “What did just you say to me?” his mother retorted.

         “I just want to learn how to swim.”

         “You better not be a smart-butt to me.”

         “Mom, I wouldn't...”

         “Do you want me to tell your father?”

         Jack grew silent. He could feel his face turn pale and dread shot all through him.

         “That's what I thought,” his mother said.

         Sticks and weeds brushed against their clothes as they made their way back home. The path had grown up completely until Jack trampled it back again making his way to the pond. It was a beautiful sight, but all Jack could think about was ways to make his mother and father sorry. He plotted vengeful acts that he would never carry out, but it gave him a small sense of satisfaction. Don't think that he was murderous, he only wanted to make them see that they weren't perfect parents. At least to him they weren't. His little sister was given everything she wanted, and they let her get away with nearly anything.

         Jack felt heavy and discouraged as he walked up on to the porch and made his way into the house. His father wasn't home from work yet. Thank God, he thought. His mother didn't have to tell him to go to his room he just went straight upstairs with his head hung.

         He laid on the bed daydreaming about the pond. It was so serene. He remembered the birds chirping as he sat on the dock. How the breeze rustled his brown hair and made him feel at peace. He could see the bluegill skimming around at the top of the water. This was the first time he'd got caught going there, but it wasn't going to stop him, he decided. Next time he was going to bring bread for the fish, maybe even some trunks so he could try to swim in the shallows.

         Jack had fallen asleep and was awakened by a knock on the door and his mother saying, “Dinner's ready.” So, he slowly arose and paced downstairs to the dining room. His father and Brenda were already sitting at the table. It definitely didn't help that they didn't wait for him to eat. His mother soon joined them, but she probably wouldn't have waited either if she hadn't been cleaning the mess up from cooking.

         At dinner Jack decided to sneak out after everyone was asleep, and go back to the pond. When he got there he would decided weather or not to run away. Running away was a thought that had popped into his mind seconds before. But he wanted to think about it first. The pond would help him do that, he thought.

         “You make any friends today, Jack?” His father blurted.

         Jack was surprised. Usually, his father didn't talk much at the dinner table. When he did, it wasn't to Jack. “No,” was all he could muster up.

         “No wonder,” his father mumbled. Jack wasn't sure what his father meant by this, but he knew it was unjust. Nonetheless, he didn't care. His father was meaningless to him, and his father didn't seem to care either.

         “Jack's a looser!” Brenda taunted him.

         “Shut up, Brenda!” he snapped.

         “Jack!” his father shouted. “Don't talk to your sister like that!”

         “But...” Jack protested.

         “No buts! Do you want me to take off my belt?”

         Jack fell silent. The hatred he felt for his father at that moment consumed him. But it didn't stay hatred for long. It slowly turned into apathy. He wished he was treated like a normal teenager. He got spanked more than Brenda did and she was ten-years-old. The way his life had turned out so far was disappointing. And he was to the point he didn't care what happened. His only friend was a pond, and even though it wasn't a real friend, nothing was going to stop him from going there.

         Everyone continued eating as if nothing happened. Except for Brenda, who kept sticking her tongue out at Jack. He finished his meal, and headed up to his room to wait until they all went to sleep.
         










CHAPTER TWO

         Finally, it was midnight and everyone was in bed. Jack threw on some clothes and carefully cracked his door. The coast was clear. He tiptoed down the stairs and across the hardwood floor to the front door. Then he slipped out and ran as fast as he could off the porch, across the grass, and into the woods.

         He stop running when he was halfway to the pond to catch his breath. He looked around and realized it was quite creepy. The crickets chirping and the distant sound coyotes unnerved him. His mind played tricks on him as he would see dark figures scampering around in the distance. He could've sworn someone was following him as well. He almost regretted the decision to sneak out, but he continued to the pond with a fast pace trying to ignore his imagination.

         The darkness opened slightly under the moonlight to reveal his old friend, the pond.

         “Hey there,” he greeted it as he sat at the edge of the dock. “I had to sneak out to see you.”

         He sat silently staring at the moon's reflection rippling in the water. It helped him forget every circumstance that was against him. The chirping crickets had now formed a peaceful song in his ears. He could almost understand the conversation the coyotes were having afar off. And the dark figures revealed themselves to be bushes and trees. All was well in his own little world overlooking the water, and he didn't care what his family thought.

         A rustle in the bushes directly behind him startled him. He stood up and turned around. His eyes scanned the edge of the woods. Something was there, and it wasn't his imagination.

         Brenda jumped out of the darkness. “Boo! What are you doing here?”
         Her white sleeping gown and pale face, to Jack and his imagination, was a ghost. This made Jack take a flying leap backwards. A leap that would pelt him into the water. And so it did.

         Jack flailed and struggled to keep his head above the water. Brenda ran to his rescue but she couldn't quite reach his hand from the dock. She ran around the dock to the shore and waded a short way until the water was around her waist.

         “Jack!” she shouted reaching her hand out. “Try to get to the shore!”

         Jack could only take short gasps of air between the times his head went under. This was it, he thought. He was drowning, and he was going to die. He should have listened to his mother and stayed away from the pond. None of that mattered anymore. Only air matter, and soon he was going to be denied that.

         “Jack!” Brenda continued. “Jack! Please don't drown!”

         It was too late. Jack had went under. He could feel the heaviness of his body pulling him toward the bottom. If he was fully conscious he would've realize something was wrong here. He should have floated after he stopped struggling, but it was like a whirlpool was sucking him down. It was dark and murky, and then all was black.

         Suddenly, a similar sensation seemed to suck him out of the darkness. A hand reached in the water and grabbed him by the collar. Someone was pulling him out of the water. Barely aware, he could feel his heels dragging the ground. He was safe, someone had rescued him. He didn't care whether or not it was one of his parents. All he could comprehend was relief.







CHAPTER THREE

         Jack awoke. The sun was warm, and a breeze stroked his face. He sat up and blinked his eyes a few times until the blurriness left. He took a deep breath and let his eyes search around for who had rescued him. He thought it was strange that it was daylight when only minutes before it was dark. Then he noticed he was someplace strange.

         There was a pond, but it wasn't his pond. This place was beautiful. Many bright multicolored flowers lined the banks, and the path in the woods was perfectly cut out. The sky above him glowed purple rather than blue, and the birds sounded like they were actually singing songs.

         “Where am I?” he blurted aloud.

         A hand touched his shoulder from behind. Jack flung himself around and frightfully crawled and scampered backwards. A man was kneeling looking at him. He didn't look normal, he didn't have a face. Only his left eye shown, and there were holes where his nose should have been. He was bald and pale; no mouth, no ears. He had raggedy black suit on, and his hands were bandaged.

         The faceless man stood up. He limped, humped over like a hunchback, toward Jack.

         “Who are you?” Jack shouted. “Stay there!”

         The man stopped at his command, and pointed a bandaged finger toward the pond.

         “Were you the one who save me?” Jack asked, and the man nodded his head. “Who are you?”

          Still on the ground, Jack got up on his feet. The man started to turn and walk in the direction of the path. He waved his hand for Jack to follow him, but Jack was hesitant. The man did save his life, and maybe he was trustworthy. But Jack wasn't to fond of going with strange looking strangers.

         After a moment, Jack decided to follow the man. He didn't know where he was, and maybe the man had some answers even though he couldn't speak.

         The path was cut clean through the woods. There weren't any briers or sticks poking at them as they walked. The plants and trees that blanketed the woods weren't ordinary. There were colors that Jack hadn't seen before in plant life, and a lot of them were strangely shaped.

         The path winded on until they arrived at a clear filled with assorted log houses. It was a little village of sorts with a giant stone well in the middle of them. A chapel stood in the very back that had large stained glass windows. The place was extraordinary, but it still looked run-down.

         The paths around the village was was salted with people just like the man he had followed. They all were pale and faceless. Some had hair, but most of them didn't. Some of them didn't have eyes and were led around by others. The clothes they wore were raggedy and worn out like they had found them in a trash heap. The strangest thing, Jack noticed, every one of them had bandaged hands.

         The man led Jack one of the houses in the back corner of the village, and stopped and turned around to look at Jack. He motioned Jack to follow him inside.

         What could it hurt? Jack proceeded to follow the man. The door creaked open and exposed a man sitting at a table writing on a piece of parchment. This man looked normal. He was slightly chubby, and had a scruffy brown beard. Jack was relieved that the chubby man was smiling as he was writing. This gave Jack the impression that the man--more than likely--wasn't mean.

         The man, finishing his note, looked up at the faceless man then at Jack. “What have we here?”

         The faceless man pointed at Jack. The chubby man and the faceless man waited as if they were waiting for Jack to speak.

         “Um, My name is Jack Hurt. This man saved me out of the pond.”

         “The pond?” The chubby man replied. His face turned bright with excitement. “You're not from here are you?”

         “No, I don't think so,” Jack said.

         “Of course you aren't! Forgive my manners, the name's Jensen.” Jensen hopped up from the desk and held a hand out. Jack shook his hand and cracked a smile. “Come, sit down. We were just about to eat lunch.”

         Jack took a seat at the table next to Jensen where the plates were already set, and the faceless man took one next to Jack. Jack's eyes skimmed around the house. It was quite open and empty except for a door behind Jensen and a staircase in the far corner directly ahead. A few wooden chairs were place here and there. It puzzled him why it was so empty. Maybe they didn't need a lot here.

         “I bet you have a lot of questions,” Jensen said.

         “Yes, I do,” Jack replied.

         “Try me. I'm a man with answers.”

         “Well, where am I?”

         “Son, welcome to Toxicity. The other side of the world. A place of good and evil. The largest of secrets, and smallest of people. All except one, that's Korrat Cramper.”

         “Who's that?”

         “Cramper is Toxicity's Prime Minister. In all reality he's more of a dictator, but we must give him respect in public. You don't want anyone to hear you talk bad about that fellow, it would mean your eminent death.”

         The door behind Jensen swung open. A young girl stood in the doorway with a large pot and a dipper. Her hair was dark and short, and her eyes were big and green. She was slim and slightly unkempt, but this didn't stop Jack from feeling quite weak in the knees. Thank goodness he was sitting down or he would've fell over.

         “There you are darling,” Jensen said. “Jack Hurt, meet my daughter, Starr. Starr, meet Jack.”

         Starr shied her way around the table with the big pot. She sat it down in the middle of the table and took a seat directly across from Jack. Keeping her head hung, she took a napkin from the table and laid it across her lap.

         “Sorry son, she's not used to company. Only the Faceless,” said Jensen.

         “The Faceless?” Jack asked.

         “Yes, the people of this village. Quite a literal name isn't it? They may frighten at first, but they are very kind hearted. Like Mr. Stark next to you, he saved you from the pond. I can tell he's already very fond of you.”

         “How did they get faceless like that?”

         “Shh, son. Let's not talk about that right now. The important thing is that you're here. So, let's eat.”

         Jensen opened the pot and dipped out a brown mush then served everyone a portion. Jack looked at it disgust, but quickly changed expressions as to not offend Jensen's daughter.

         “It's chili,” Starr said softly.

         “The people of Toxicity are very poor we have to live with what we have.”

         “Is it because of Cramper.”

         “Of course, son. But let's eat right now. I'll take you out after lunch and show you around.”

         Jack took a bite and to his surprise, the chili was actually quite good. He kept eating spoonfuls of it before he notice Mr. Stark had unwrapped his hands, and stuck long root-looking fingers into the chili.

         “What's he doing?”

         “That's how he eats. He soaks up nutrients through his hands. I suppose that's why the Faceless consider it uncouth to have their hands uncovered, except for eating. Come, just eat up. We'll go for a walk after lunch.”