Nightmarish Reality (Preview) - Ch 15
PSYCHOLOGICAL HORROR, CHAPTERS
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NIGHTMARISH REALITY may contain graphic and disturbing scenes. Some content may be controversial in nature and may not be appropriate for younger readers; therefore, you must be eighteen or older to continue.
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Eye For An Eye
Today at volleyball practice, everyone was required to stay inside the gymnasium. Sneakers squeaked loudly along the shiny, wooden floors. The gym was about the size of a soccer field; it was much cooler inside, because of the high powered air conditioning units. Yet if anyone took one step outside, the mosquito infested heat wave, they would fry instantly. In the gym, the plastic bleachers were linked to an automatic machine that rolled out whenever we had a basketball game.
All Coach Todd had to do was push a button. The bleachers were all folded as if they were a set of horizontal dominoes. On the side of the walls were blue padding. I guess it was for the players that got too close to the sidelines; if they hit it they wouldn’t get injured, since it was a spongy pad. I stood beside the white net, puzzled by what I should do in this game.
I watched the ball go back and forth from one team to the next. My arms were at my sides for no one told me that I was wide open.
“Look out,” A girl shouted at me.
However, her warning didn’t help me. The ball came toward me and I froze stiff. Then, I collapsed to the ground. I missed the damn ball. It struck my head dead center, leaving a reddish mark in the middle of my forehead that resembled a bullseye.
Coach Todd, our P.E. teacher, was a bald Caucasian man with the demeanor of a pit bull. He always wore Boston Red Sox baseball caps, red pants, red sneakers, and white T-shirts. He punched his fists into the wall, showing how much he hated me. Coach grabbed my arm and pulled me off the ground. Told me to sit this one out.
“Get off my fucking court.” Coach shoved me to the side. “Can’t you play any sport right for Christ sake?”
“I tried, but–but the––” I stuttered.
“Act like a man. Walk it off.”
I rubbed my swollen face as I leaned against the blue cushioned walls. Jay Connell rushed over to me and then waved. He slapped me on the right shoulder really hard.
What’s up with guys slapping me these days? I thought.
Jay Connell was a large Mexican boy, who regularly bullied me every day at P.E.; everyone called him Jay C for short, as a nickname (sort of). His face was round and plump; he didn’t compare to someone who was obese. More muscle than fat really. He was several inches taller than I was. Standing at five feet and four inches, I was a midget compared to Jay C. He even had bulging biceps, since he was a Jock.
Jay C wore the blue uniform shorts we were required to wear in gym, but he had a black shirt with the picture of Cuban dictator/revolutionist, Che Guevara. I was shocked Coach Todd let him wear that in practice. But then again, I figured Coach didn’t care enough, since Jay C was one of the populars in school. Like celebrities, the populars often found a loophole to winning at everything. Sometimes even in our own justice system. They got away with so much.
“Hey you.” Jay C waved at his friends in the back of the gym. His hand was in the air and then, he signaled at me.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1 - The Nightmare That Started It All
Chapter 18 - A Streak Of Green
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