Walking Among the Shadows: Awakening: Revised Edition (7 page)

For my seventeenth birthday my
mom promised me a car. I already had my license in preparation for my upgrade
in mobility. She wouldn’t tell me what make or model car I would get but she
assured me it would be brand-new. I was expecting something like a Ford Focus
or a Chevy Malibu. Both cars are nice but not what I really wanted. My dream
car was the 2010 Chevy Camaro. It had to be the most beautiful car on the road
to me. When I first laid eyes on it in those Transformers movies, it was love
at first sight. But the canary yellow was not my style; it was much too bright
for my taste. I wanted a black and red beast of a Camaro, with matching black
and red rims and a banging sound system. Definitely the SS model with a ground
effects kit. I could just picture myself in that car rolling like a badass! The
looks I would get driving to school in that car would be priceless. The roar of
the engine turning heads as I pulled into the student parking lot, the smiles
from the girls while they secretly plotted a reason to ask me for a ride home.
YES! What a dream!

But it was only a dream. I
strategically placed a picture of the exact model and color of the Camaro on my
PC as a desktop wallpaper. From time to time when my mom would come in my room
I would say, “Hey Mom, isn’t this the most beautiful machine you’ve ever seen?”
She would answer sarcastically,

“Yes it is, and you can have
that exact beautiful machine in your own driveway when you get a job and your
own home.”

Judging by the same response
again and again there was a very slim chance that my dream would become a
reality.

Don’t get me wrong I was
grateful for a brand-new car. No more bus rides and my weekends would be much
more interesting now that I would no longer be confined to Deerfield. So I was
really looking forward to my birthday. Plus the party that Tony’s cousin was
throwing for me at his club was going to be “off the hook,” with VIP treatment
and all the trimmings. I
was
planning on sneaking a drink or two in, but
with my current mental state, I was reconsidering that. But I still planned on
having a great time on my birthday nonetheless. Well, that’s if I make it to my
birthday alive and free, because at the rate I was going I may find myself
behind bars or worse.

It’s strange how we remember
the events that change us or our perspective on life and the world around us,
but we often forget the things we do that affect others. I remember my first
kiss, my first R-rated movie, my first so-called girlfriend, and the first time
I won a tournament. But I don’t remember the first time I hurt my mom, the
first time I insulted Sarah or the first person I was rude to. I don’t remember
any of those things. I guess each of us live on our own secluded island in
life. We are our own castaways and the only rain we see is the rain that
drenches us directly. We never see the hurricane on the other island at the
same time it’s storming in our lives.

Nor do we care to see it. Back
then my life was one-dimensional; I saw things through my own eyes. Had I seen
things differently I would not have involved Tony in my mental troubles because
his burden of silence was changing his life and would start events to unfold
that would spiral out of control over the years to come. But again I only saw
my island being bombarded by a hurricane and I needed help. I didn’t think that
by inviting him to my island I was also inviting danger on his island as well.
How selfish of me to assume he could and wanted to be involved in my decent
into madness.

T
he
time on Monday moved at a pace that made watching paint dry feel like watching
a big-budget action movie. Each minute seemed like an hour and an hour seemed
like a week. I was extremely excited about the tryouts and I couldn’t hide it.
Sarah teased all morning, calling me a virgin schoolgirl on her way to the prom
with the most popular boy in school. Yeah, she was trying to spoil my
excitement but I wasn’t going to have my day ruined by anything. The more I
thought about it the more shocking it was to me how much I wanted to make the
team. Aiden, the one that always believed that to conform to the popular crowd
was worse than death. Yes, it was me now, wanting the new experience, wanting
the limelight that came with making the team. It made me realize how shallow my
mindset really was. I began to realize we are all influenced by one thing or
another.

Was my view of being popular
my own, or was it a result of the negative way I processed it due to others and
my experiences with those considered to be popular? My best friend was popular,
very popular. His presence at school lit up a room and being in his company was
considered by most to be a blessing. Yet he was my best friend. I trusted him
with my darkest secrets. But I didn’t associate Tony with my limited view on
the social status of being popular. From my shallow point of view, a popular
person would have ratted me out by now. Exposing my secret desire to hurt
Jasmine; hoping that exposing this new juicy info would raise his stock even
further amongst our peers. But he didn’t.

Don’t get me wrong, I do know
quite a few people who are popular that would’ve spilled the beans. But I began
to see that there is always more than one side to a story. Everyone has a
different approach and just because you are popular doesn’t mean you have to be
a dick. Life is lived on a case-by-case basis and I was going to have to start
learning to see people the same way.

Finally! The bell rang, school
was out and it was time to head over for tryouts. When I got over to the field
Sarah with a look of sarcasm in her eyes, and Tony with a look of encouragement
was already waiting for me. As I walked on the field, some of the team began
heckling the hopefuls. There clearly were some shockers on the field this year,
myself included. People you wouldn’t dream would try out and they didn’t hide
their surprise.

“Wait! Is that Aiden, the same
Aiden who broke down your big brother?” One of the teammates teased Brian, the
starting quarterback, whose big brother and I had a previous physical
confrontation with.

“Yes the same,” he responded,
gritting his teeth trying to hold back the anger he felt seeing me on his
field.

“Dude, that’s just wrong!” one
of them continued to tease.

“Okay, enough!” Brian
demanded. “Let’s just watch, I don’t want to hear anything else about my
brother!”

“Okay cool, but don’t you
think he wants to kick your ass too? Maybe make it a family tradition? I mean like
a generational ass-kicking. A rite of passage if you will? You are not one of
us until Aiden beats that ass!” Everyone besides Brian began wailing with
laughter.

“I said enough!”

“No, you said nothing about
your big bro dude, I’m talking about you now!”

“You know what? Keep it up,
Stephan.”

“Or what?” he interrupted.
“You’ll kick my ass?”

“Maybe worse,” Brian
responded.

Stephan, the team’s resident
clown, was always saying something or doing something to try to be funny. He
always seemed to find the right opportunity to hone his comedic skills so my
presence on the field gave him all the material he needed. Most of the time he
was really funny and he was also one hell of a linebacker. Often compared to
some of the best linebackers in the professional leagues for his speed and
strength Stephan used it as motivation to excel on the field. He was a
sophomore like I was, so if I made the team we would be playing together for
the last years of high school which made me extremely happy to have such a
talented linebacker leading our defense.

“If there’s an ass you want
kicked go over to Aiden…I’m sure he can give you what you want. Just don’t be
surprised that it’s
your
ass getting kicked in,” Stephan joked.

“Kicked in like a police
bust,” added another teammate.

“Oh wow, it’s Comedy Central
at Deerfield High,” responded Brian.

“Okay quiet down,” demanded
Coach Towers.

Coach began to explain the
process of making the team. There would be three stages. First stage would be
physical to see if we were physically able to handle the rigorous and demanding
sport of football. Second would be football talent per position.

Third would test your IQ for
the game. Depending on one’s performance, you could fail, make the team, or
even become a walk-on starter. Very few make the team and it’s rare that
someone becomes an immediate starter. But I was optimistic, being how sorry the
current person was in the position I was gunning for. The physical trials were
simple for me. Running, speed, response, strength, and endurance—all of which I
had in abundance. But I already knew this first part would be a breeze for me.
It was the last part that worried me. It’s one thing to play around the
neighborhood but it’s totally different when it’s structured and judged by
someone that knows the game, and Coach Towers knew the game of football.

He played in the NFL for about
ten years as a star running back before an injury cut a great career short. He
was hard but fair and he didn’t accept mediocrity. If you were lazy and
unfocused he wouldn’t even consider you for the water boy. I could tell I did
great by the coach’s look of excitement and Brian’s look of utter disgust at my
physical abilities.

He should be happy I wasn’t
gunning for his spot.

Over the next few days I
maintained my focus on the task at hand; getting that starting position at
running back. The second phase of the tryouts went by with ease as well.
According to Tony’s sources, I was ahead in every category and well on my way
to getting that coveted starting position. Tony made sure word got around about
my performance and standings during the team’s tryouts. It was a major surprise
to most because I wasn’t known for sports. I was known for my looks, academic
achievements, and being Tony’s friend.

My status seemed to change
overnight. I started getting a lot more attention and flirtatious looks from
the girls who never paid me any attention before. I didn’t even have to be
around Tony anymore to get attention. It was a serious jolt to my confidence
level. I became so confident about the final phase of tryouts I started picking
my jersey number. Even Sarah started coming around to the idea of me playing
football. Sarah already made the soccer team and took the starting striker
position from the girl who tried to get Tony’s number on the first day of
school. I knew that was her intention once she found out that same girl played
on the soccer team and plotted her way into the starting position. That poor
girl had no idea who she crossed that day; I bet she knows now.

The day of the final phase of
tryouts turned out to be the gloomiest day of the week. The grey skies seemed
to loom closer to the ground creating a depressing and claustrophobic
atmosphere around the school. No one and I mean no one was looking forward to
being out in that weather, but Coach wasn’t about to postpone the final day of
tryouts. Next week was our first game against Highland Park and he wanted all
positions filled. Surprisingly, the day moved along swiftly and before I knew
it I was walking towards the field preparing to take my place on the team. My
confidence was at an all-time high, I just knew I had this in the bag. Coach’s
plan was to run some plays but allow things to be very one-sided. Only three
linemen blocking for a running back but more defensive linemen to stop that
running back. Fewer options for a quarterback to throw to but more defensive
players to interfere with the quarterbacks throwing lanes. The offensive line
having more players than normal to stop a linebacker and a slew of other uneven
scenarios. His purpose was to see us perform under extreme pressure and against
huge odds.

He started with the defense so
I had time to sit on the sidelines and prepare myself. I was relaxed,
confident, and ready for whatever Coach threw at me. Victory was mine. But then
things took a turn for the worst. I started to feel a familiar sense of rage,
and fear, and at that moment I knew she was here! Every muscle and bone in my
body began to ache. It got so bad I could barely hold onto my helmet or keep my
arms from hanging down like the limp branches of a sleepy hollow tree.

Tony immediately ran over to
me, “Dude!”

“Yeah, I know, she’s here…”

“How the hell you know that?”
Tony asked while taking a step back.

“I can feel her.”

“Wow! Just Wow! Man Aiden, you
are really scaring me now. You can feel her? Wait dude, you don’t look so good.
Maybe you shouldn’t go out there just yet.”

“No, I’m here already and I
won’t let this beat me.”

Coach blew his whistle
signaling for the offense to take the field. As I stood up, the entire field
began to spin and everywhere the field turned she was there. Smiling with that
evil  look in her eyes. I started to feel my stomach convulse and vibrate;
readying itself to expel my lunch all over the turf. Every step towards the
line of scrimmage became more difficult. I felt like I had the weight of a car
planted firmly on my shoulders. I started sweating uncontrollably and my
stomach decided it was in the Olympics trying out for the gold in gymnastics.
As I got into position the field became dark as the abyss of hell. I began to
feel exposed and cold, like everyone could see right through me. And then the
field and everyone on it vanished besides the darkness and Jasmine.

I could hear in the darkness
screams of terror and torment as I spun around trying to pin point where the
sound was coming from. But it seemed the screams were coming from everywhere
and nowhere. Through the screams I could hear the faint sound of the
quarterback giving the snap count. I strained my eyes through the darkness,
trying to see where I was but I couldn’t see my hands when I placed them right
in front of my face. I slowly started to fall deeper in a trance as the madness
of the abyss started to consume me. Then all at once everything came back—the
field, the players, and…Oh shit!

The entire defensive line was
right in front of me running on a blitz. The sudden contact sent me flying back
at least six feet. I’d never been hit that hard and it felt like I’d just had
two years of my life knocked right out of me. The pain was so intense I didn’t
even notice my helmet was no longer on my head. All I noticed was the pain my
entire body was going through. I could hear Coach blow his whistle then yell,
“Run it again! Aiden wake up and get in the game son and focus!” Brian and his
buddies were smiling now, happy at the sight of me getting slammed. I slowly
rose to my feet, nodding my head and inhaling deeply trying to regain my
composure. If only I had the power to do so.

There I was again behind the
line of scrimmage, behind Brian and at the mercy of Jasmine. As soon as the
snap count began the nightmare came looming back at me. It felt like Jasmine
had a remote and kept hitting rewind repeatedly but adding more horrific images
and sounds each go-round. By the time the tryouts were over I had accumulated a
whopping negative 135 yards rushing. The single worse tryout rushing numbers in
school history, hell maybe even in state’s history. There was a look of utter
confusion on Coach’s face and a look of complete delight on Brian’s. I began
walking over to the bench to sit down but before I could get there I fell to my
knees and started gagging uncontrollably. Tony and Sarah immediately ran to my
aid. My chest was burning, like a fire was being lit inside my lungs. I
couldn’t breathe as the burning began moving up my chest towards my throat. The
further up it moved the hotter and more painful it became. At this point my
oxygen was completely cut off and I started vomiting a black tar-like substance
that seemed to burn the grass as it touched it. The taste was like pure
abomination and I looked up to see if Jasmine was still in the bleachers. By
that time she was slowing making her way off the field, never looking at me as
she left. She had a rage inspiring arrogance to her stride as she walked out
the fence towards the school’s parking lot.