I open the front door of my house, angrily slamming it shut, the
thought of that woman still irking me. I feel the hairs on the back of my neck
stand up as I experience a weird feeling. All of a sudden, all I want to do is
get out of here.
I glance left and right, looking for the danger I know is there.
Not wanting to make any sudden moves, I turn my body slowly towards the door. I
tentatively reach my hand out for the door knob. Seeing something being hurtled
at me out of my peripheral vision, I jerk my head back as a foot long knife
appears on the wall where my head was a moment ago.
I look to where the knife came from and see the face of an old man. Sharp, blue eyes that
match my own and curly locks of white hair on his head. Thin lips with a long wiry
nose and a small, frail looking body. This old man is the one who took me in
after my parents died. He still refuses to tell me his name, promising that
when I beat him he'll tell me. Needless to say, I can never beat him.
"What're you doing, you old fart, you almost killed me", I ask.
"How rude. Calling the one who taught you how to survive
and took care of you all this time an 'old fart'. You need to be taught a
lesson." He springs at me with his arms outstretched, surprisingly nimble
for such an old man.
I take one step back, shifting my center of gravity while
raising my hands in an offensive stance. I strike out with one leg as he comes
to me, my foot whipping towards his chin. This is sure to knock him out, I
think.
"Not likely," he replies, as if reading my mind. He
grabs my ankle and shoves it down so my foot flies down under his chin. I try
to regain my balance quickly as he moves both hands behind his back. He strikes
out with both palms, whipping them forward and hitting me softly on the pecs with
each hand.
I look at him silently, shocked. I start to laugh and say,
"You messed up the technique old fart, that didn't hurt at a—." I
suddenly stop talking as I feel an excruciating pain in my chest. The pain,
that sudden excruciating pain, made me double over, unable to move.
"Wha-what?" I stutter out.
"You've still got much to learn," the old man mutters
out. He pushes down on my back, relieving the pain instantly. I spring up and
look at him, to see him sauntering in to the kitchen. He looks at me once, and
gauntly says, "Let's eat."
I walk into the kitchen to see boxes of pizza and sprite. I look
at him, surprised, and say, "You actually spent money on me?" I start
getting the feeling that somethings wrong. I grab three slices and a sprite and
walk off to go to my room.
After I'm done eating, I stand up to take a shower. I feel a
vibration in my pocket and pull out my phone and groan. I got a text from
Jinny. It had one word, four letters only, that would forever change my life.
It said, "Help."
