Sky's Story (Working Title)

Chapter One
Sixteen-year-old Sky Wilson sighed, yet another morning in this cold, dark basement. It was going to be another day of torture. Well, maybe a little bit better than others. It was the first day of school. Slowly, he slid out of the warmth of his ratty old sleeping bag. Sky stumbled over to the white, cracked porcelain sink and, as quietly as he could, turned the faucet on. A thin trickle of ice-cold water started to pour out of the rusted spout. He caught the water with his calloused hands and gingerly rubbed his face in a futile attempt to wash off the dirt and grime.
         “What’s going on down there?” Sky’s mother shouted from the top of the stairs, and flicked on the dim basement light bulb.
         “Nothing,” Sky replied hoarsely and quickly shut of the faucet.
         “Then get your ass up here now. You have work to do,” She demanded.
         Sky took a trembling breath as his mother’s footsteps retreated from the staircase. He had almost been caught, and he knew he’d have to be more careful next time. Stiffly, he made his way to the basement stairway and started to climb. With every step he too, Sky winced with pain, and his back burned.
         “What are you doing? Here, put these on,” Sky’s mother ordered icily and tossed a pair of faded jeans and a clean t-shirt.
         Sky nodded weakly and scurried out of the kitchen and into the bathroom. Within moments he emerged from the bathroom, and was happy to finally be dressed in some decent clothes. He quickly set the large kitchen table for three and whipped up a batch of scrambled eggs and buttered toast. After he set the breakfast on the table he retreated to the bathroom again to try to clean up a little bit more.
         Once the door was securely locked, he turned to stare at himself in the mirror that was hanging haphazardly over the sink. His dark brown hair was disheveled and greasy from a lack of showering, and his coffee brown eyes were dull and bloodshot from exhaustion. The smooth planes of his face were disrupted by cuts and bruises, and his back was dotted with scars and welts. Carefully, Sky teased his shirt up and away from his back to inspect his latest injuries. Fresh, angry red welts distorted the entire surface of his back.
         “Hey, get outta there. It’s my turn,” Sky heard his older brother, Scott, holler as he pounded on the door. “Mom! Sky’s locked himself in the bathroom and won’t get out!”
         “Hold on, I’ll only be a minute,” Sky pleaded and hurriedly ran a comb through his thick, dark hair. He rushed to open the door and, as he swung it open, was greeted by a swift blow across his face. The blow knocked him to his knees. Head lowered, Sky could feel the blood welling in his mouth from his bitten tongue.
         “I’m sorry,” Sky croaked, “I didn’t mean to take so long.”
         “Just go and finish the dishes. I don’t feel like dealing with you right now,” his mother hissed.
         “Okay, and I’ll be quick,” Sky promised, his eye downcast.
         Scott glared at Sky as their mother nodded and walked away. Sky painfully rose to his feet, and cautiously walked around his fuming brother. Grimacing and rubbing his check, he limped his way into the kitchen.
         “I’ll give you a ride to school after you’ve cleaned up here,” Sky’s father informed him. Without an upward glance, his father rose from the table and walked out of the kitchen.
         Sky immediately began to clear the large, shiny mahogany table. Quickly, he scrubbed the dishes and put them away. He was also sure to wipe down the stove, and polish the large granite countertops. When he was finished he snatched his sack lunch that he had made the night before.
         “I’m ready to go,” Sky stammered as his dad came out of the spacious living room.
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“Hey Sky! How’ve you been?” Sky’s best friend at school, Stacy Carders, greeted him at the front door of their high school.
“I’m doing okay. How about you?” He asked.
“You don’t look okay,” Stacy chided, and took a step back to look at him. Stacy stood in silence; taking in his tall, wiry frame and his tousled hair. Sky dropped eye contact with his friend, ashamed.
“I’m fine, Stacy. Scott and I just haven’t been getting along,” He said, attempting to brush it off.
“I don’t know,” said Stacy, unsure, “You just don’t look right.”
“Stacy, I am okay,” Sky added, “Don’t worry about me.”
“Alright,” She sighed, “but it seems as if you two are always fighting like this. Are you sure everything’s fine?”
“I Promise,” Sky exclaimed, trying to be heard over the first period bell.
         Stacy gave him a final, worried glance before turning on her heel and racing through the doors to her first class. Sky, on the other hand, slowly opened the door and strolled down the hallway to find his locker. He consulted a crumpled piece of paper one more time before he finally found it. He fumbled with the worn dial a few times, but eventually the salmon colored locker door gave way. Sky shoved his tattered black backpack into the tiny compartment. He slammed the door, double checked that it had locked, and made his way to his first class of the day.
         “You’re late!” Mr. Cole’s voice boomed when Sky crept into the classroom.
         “I know, and I’m sorry. I couldn’t find my locker,” Sky repeated, “I’m sorry.”
         Keeping his head down, he opened up the textbook Mr. Cold had handed him to the number scrawled across the shining white dry-erase board. Thankfully, Stacy and Sky didn’t have any classes together this semester. Sky doubted she would’ve left him alone if they did share any classes. Sky could hardly bare the though of lying to her again.
         “Okay class, today we will start off with the basics of economics,” Mr. Cole announced. Skye tried to spend the next hour focusing on Mr. Cole’s droning lecture, but he found it hard to concentrate. His thoughts were still outside of the school, where he had flat-out lied to Stacy.          
         “Hey Sky! I’m over here,” Stacy called to him and waved. She motioned for him to join her on a grassy spot in the school’s courtyard.
         For the remainder of their lunch hour, the two chatted happily about their first half of the day. Both of them purposely avoided their awkward conversation earlier that morning. The rest of the day passed in a blur, and before Sky knew it, he was on the bus going home.
         “You need to set the table,” Sky’s mother said tersely only moments after Sky had come through the front door. Obediently, Sky retrieved the dishes from the large mahogany cupboards and started to place them neatly around the table.
         “Set it for five. You’re father is having company tonight,” his mother said. Sky simply nodded in reply and fetched two more sets of dishes and matching silverware.
         “Who’s coming over tonight, Ma?” Scott inquired loudly from the nearby living room.
         “The Dunstan’s,” She replied calmly, “Your father is about to make a business deal with them.”
         “What do you want me to do while they’re here?” Sky asked quietly.
         “You will stay downstairs, and be on your very best behavior,” She decided, “If I hear one peep from you, I will be paying you a little visit after our guests have left.”
         Sky’s eyes widened slightly, but he kept his mouth shut. Once he had all of the dinnerware arranged to his mother’s satisfaction he retreated to his army cot in the basement. For the remainder of the night, Sky silently listened to his parents and Mr. Dunstan and his wife exchange small talk and a little bit of business talk. He hoped that the guests would soon become clients of his father; otherwise Sky knew he would be blamed for their backing out.
         A couple of hours later, Sky heard a car start outside. He waited nervously for the basement door to open. Sky still started violently, however, when he heard his mother fling the door open. He watched her come storming haphazardly down the staircase.
         “Well,” She slurred angrily, “you really screwed things up this time.”
         “How?” Sky cringed, knowing it’d probably set her off.
         “How,” his mother shrieked, “How dare you act so innocent. This is your fault.”
         Slowly, she let the hand that was hidden behind her back fall to her side. In it was a worn, brown leather belt. Sky braced himself instinctively as she raised her hand over her head. Sky closed his eyes and grimaced. He could feel the leather biting into his back, and splitting the skin open in a few places. She yanked him off of his cot and threw him down on the floor.
         “Why do you always have to ruin things?” his mother demanded, “Why can’t you do a damn thing you’re told?”
         Sky shrugged helplessly, not knowing what to say. His lack of reaction to her accusations sent his mother into another bout of rage. She threw the belt down and started to kick him viciously in the ribs. Sky was soon gasping for air, and the pain seared through his chest with every breath. After what seemed like hours, his mother gave him a final jab in the ribs before stalking back up the stairs. She left him along in the darkness. Totally spent, Sky curled up on the cold cement floor and fell into a fitful sleep.
Chapter Two
         Where am I? What happened to me? Sky wondered when he opened his eyes the following morning. He rolled over, trying to get his bearings. The second he moved, Sky was instantly awake as pain ripped a tore mercilessly through his chest like a beast with its long, sharp claws tearing him apart from the inside, out. Moaning, Sky struggled to his feet. Clinging to the wall, he surveyed the scene in the dim, early morning light. As he gazed at a small puddle of dark, dried up blood, he started to think more about what had happened.
         Suddenly, the memories started to flood over him. He clamped his eyes shut and bit his swollen lip. The room started to become blurry, and started to spin around him. He swayed back and forth unsteadily for a few minutes.
         “Sky Adam Wilson! You’re already running late. Get up here now, or else you’ll miss the bus,” Sky’s father hollered from the kitchen, “I’m leaving for work. You better be up here before your mom gets up.”
         Grimacing, Sky crawled up the stairs. When he got to the doorway, his father pushed a clean, faded red t-shirt into his bruised arms. Sky ran into the bathroom and slipped into the shirt. It took all of his effort to ignore his sore muscles, which were burning in protest. When he came down the hall, his father was standing at the door with his backpack. Sky took the bag and eased it onto his sore back before hobbling out of the door and down the driveway just in time to catch the bus.
         “Mr. Wilson, you’re late again,” Mr. Cole scolded, “this isn’t going to become a habit now, is it?”
         “N-no, sir,” Sky stammered.
         “Good. If it does, however, you and the principal will be having a nice little chat,” his teacher warned.
         “I don’t be late again,” he promised solemnly.
         Mr. Cole nodded, his balding head shining, and motioned for Sky to take his seat. Sky spent the rest of the hour pouring over his book. His pencil scribbled furiously over his notebook as he tried to keep pace with the teacher. By the time the bell rang, Sky’s hand was aching from all of the notes he had taken. Sky rushed out of the classroom after the bell rang, determined not to be late to his next class.
         “Hey Sky,” Stacy greeted him in the hallway, “How’s your morning been so far?”
         “Uh, okay, I guess. Mr. Cole flipped at me for being late, though,” Sky explained.
         “Yeah, I know what you mean. He can be such a jerk sometimes,” Stacy agreed.
         “Well, I should get going. I don’t want to be late for my next class, too,” sighed Sky.
         “Okay, I’ll see you at lunch then?” Stacy asked.
         Sky nodded and continued on his way down the long hallway. He could feel Stacy’s eyes watching him hobble away. Clenching his fists, he forced himself to straighten his back and walk normally. Tears stung the corners of his eyes, but he didn’t stop until he was safely inside the door of the biology lab. He entered the class as the bell rang shrilly down the hallyway.
         “Sky Wilson?” asked a woman that he didn’t recognize.
         “Yeah, that’s me,” Sky replied slowly.
         “Hello, I am Mrs. Santos, the guidance counselor. I was wondering if we could go to my office and talk,” Mrs. Santos smiled.
         “Talk about what?” Sky questioned uneasily.
         “Oh, I don’t know, school friends,” Mrs. Santos suggested casually, “Whatever you want to talk about.”
         “Um,” Sky thought for moment, “okay, I guess.”
         “Great,” she said, “follow me.”
         Ignoring the curious stares from his classmates, Sky followed Mrs. Santos out of the classroom. What does she want? Sky wondered as he followed her down the black-and-white tiled hallway. They stopped at the bottom of a short, worn stairway.
         “Do you know why I wanted to talk to you today, Sky?” Mrs. Santos asked and turned to face him, her face serious.
         “Uh, no,” Sky stuttered, “N-not really.”
         “Okay,” Mrs. Santos took a deep breath, “My room is right up these stairs. You can wait for me up there. It’s the first door on the right. I’ll be right back.”
         Sky stood at the bottom of the stairs a moment. He watched Mrs. Santos hurry down the corridor, her black pumps clicking across the floor. Knitting his brow in confusion, he slowly trudged up the stairs. Mrs. Santos’ room was plastered with posters from colleges and teen help hotlines. Her desk was immaculate. Papers were neatly stacked and organized. Everything had its proper place. In the corner, opposite of her desk, there was a small table with four blue chairs situated around it. Up against the poster-covered walls were rows and rows of perfectly arranged bookshelves. O.C.D. much? Sky thought, and shook his head.
         He made his way to the table and pulled out a chair. He fell onto it and sighed, happy to be able to rest his aching body. Within a few minutes, Mrs. Santos appeared in the doorway. Behind her was the school nurse.
         “Sky, I would like you to come with Nurse Jenkins and myself,” Mrs. Santos said, “I think you should have those injuries checked out before we talk.”
         Sky shook his head fiercely, “No. I’m fine. I don’t need to be looked at.”
         “Please let us help you. You won’t be in any trouble if you let us, I promise,” Mrs. Santos pleaded.
         “I don’t need help. There’s nothing wrong with me,” he countered.
         “It will only take a minute,” the nurse spoke up.
         Sky sat thoughtfully for minute, taking in their anxious faces, “Fine.”
         “I will be waiting outside of her office for you,” Mrs. Santos paused, and then said, “Thank you, Sky.”
         “Whatever,” Sky mumbled and shuffled after the nurse.
         Once they were inside her office, she motioned for him to sit on the shining stainless steel exam table. Reluctantly, Sky hoisted himself onto it.
         “Would you mind removing your shirt, please,” the nurse requested.
         “What? No,” Sky said.
         “I need to check you for further injuries. Mrs. Santos just wants to make sure you’re alright,” Nurse Jenkins explained.
         “I don’t have any ‘further injuries’,” Sky stated angrily.
         “Well, why don’t you prove it,” she challenged,” Now please remove the shirt.”
         Closing his eyes, Sky grasped the bottom hem of his shirt and carefully raised it over his head. He heard Nurse Jenkins quietly gasp. He tossed the shirt to the floor and bowed his head in shame.
         “I’m going to have to clean these up. I don’t want them getting infected,” she said.
         Sky remained motionless as she pulled on a pair of rubber gloves. She started to gently clean the welts on his back. Despite her gentleness, Sky’s back burned without mercy. It was still throbbing after she had wrapped most of his torso in clean white bandages. The nurse handed him his shirt, and he carefully slipped it over the bandages. Sky then slid off of the table and walked out of the office.
         “Mrs. Santos, may I speak with you alone?” asked the nurse.
         “Of course you may. I’ll be right back, Sky. Why don’t you have a seat while we talk,” said Mrs. Santos.
         Mrs. Santos and Nurse Jenkins hurried into the nurse’s office before Sky could reply. Resigned, Sky sank into on of the plush waiting chairs outside of the office. He strained to hear what was being said on the other side of the wall. He could hear the hushed, urgent voices of the nurse and the counselor. He could make out no words. A few minutes later they both emerged from the office, their faces set.
         “Sky, we have a question we would like you to answer honestly,” Mrs. Santos added, “We promise that you will not be blamed or judged by anyone.”
         “Um, okay,” Sky stammered nervously.
         “Does your mom or dad hurt you in any way at home?” asked Nurse Jenkins.
         “What? No. I already told you that I’m fine. My brother and I just get in a lot of fights,” Sky replied.
         “Your teachers have been coming to me lately, and they’re worried,” Mrs. Santos explained, “Apparently this is not the first time you’ve come to school injured. From what I’ve been hearing, it has been going on for at least a few years, Sky.”
         “So my brother and I haven’t gotten along for a few years, big deal,” Sky said casually.          
         “We’d really like to talk with your parents about this,” Mrs. Santos said.
         “No! You can’t,” Sky exclaimed.
         “We would just like them to confirm these altercations with your brother, and discuss some ways to stop this. We feel that you’re in a very dangerous situation. We don’t want things to get worse.”
         “I’ll talk to them. Please, just let me deal with it,” Sky pleaded, “I’m sure things will be different from now on.”
         “Okay,” Mrs. Santos said uncertainly, “But I will be checking up on you. And, Sky, don’t hesitate to come to me if there is ever another problem.”
         “I promise I will,” Sky lied, and tired to smile convincingly.
         “Well, with that settled, you should probably head to you’re next class,” Mrs. Santos suggested.
         “Sounds good,” Sky replied and rushed off to his locker without a backwards glance.
         He made it to his next class just as the bell echoed down the halls. Sky sighed in relief and quickly slid into his assigned seat. The rest of his classes seemed to fly by, but his mind was still in the nurse’s office and what he was going to say to his mother.
Chapter Three
         “M-mom,” Sky stuttered apprehensively.
         “What?”
         “I, uh, I talked t-to the school c-counselor today,” he explained, “S-she thinks that you and d-ad are hurting me.”
         “What did you tell her,” his mother asked uneasily.
         “T-that Scott and I are always fighting,” Sky replied carefully.
         “Are you sure that’s all you told her?” Sky’s mother’s angry gaze pierced him from across the room.
         “I’m sure,” he nodded fervently.
         “Well,” she said, her eyes narrowing, “I guess we’ll find out if you’re lying to not soon enough.”
         Sky took a deep breath and said, “I’m not lying.”
         “Don’t you dare take that tone with me. I’ve had enough of that crap,” his mother scolded.
         “I’m sorry,” Sky apologized immediately, “I didn’t mean to talk back, I swear.”
         “I’m sick of your attitude, Sky. I’ve had enough of it. Why can’t you be more like your brother?” she fumed, “Now clean up this pig sty of a house. Don’t stop until I say you can.”
         Sky merely nodded and began pulling out cleaning supplies. He scrubbed all of the granite countertops, and polished all of the mahogany furniture to a gleaming finish. He vacuumed, swept, mopped, and dusted. Nearly an hour and a half later he had finally finished cleaning the large house.
         After he was done, Sky retreated to the basement to spend some time alone. He was sick of all the questions, accusations, and general trouble that seemed to have been surrounding him. Pulling out his book and a pencil, Sky leaned against the cement wall. He didn’t know what he was drawing, just anything. Slowly, his sketch took shape. It was a creature with big brown eyes and a well-sculpted head. Its broad neck disappeared off the page. Its mane blew in an invisible breeze.  Sky loved them. Nobody knew that, though. He loved their liquid movements, and their power and speed. They were beautiful to him.