Within My Mind and Outside of Yours

    I simply had died of a car crash, but the aftermath was not quite as simple as the death itself. They said it was a miracle that had saved my life, but I believe that it was pure persistence, electricity, and the feeling of guilt hanging over everybody's shoulder.

I was the poor 16 year old boy who almost lost his life, but did lose his family to a semi-truck. 

Tragic, obviously, but not the end of the world. 

The tragic thing was that I was now a walking ouija board. I had no tattooed or burnt pentagon on my body. I didn't dye my hair black and grow it out. I didn't throw on baggy ripped jeans and a shirt with some unpopular band. I had nothing to indicate that I was who I really was. I was your average brown hair, brown eye boy with a pitiful past. The only thing that kept me in my shoes instead of pretending that I was normal was the abundant amount of voices that overlapped each other in my mind. 

The cause of my curse, or blessing, you choose, was unclear. Ever since I had died it was like my brain never returned to its living state and instead stayed in the world of the dead, hell, heaven, whatever you call it. 

I was a living boy with the mind of the dead.

The voices were demanding and annoying in a way. They wanted me to do their dirty deeds before they could go to where they were destined to be in the afterlife, but honestly? I didn't care about them. I was able to find small ways to ignore the voices, such as listening to music on full blast. But those remedies never lasted because the voice just yelled louder. I wasn't very interested in why or how the people died, I was more interested in how to shut them up.

After many failed attempts at silencing the voices I gave in.

“Find her,” was the first request that came through and then all other voices faded away.

“Find who?” I questioned the voice.

“They took her and killed me, please,” they pleaded.

“Who?” I asked yet again.

“My daughter, Laura Plent.”

I could now only hear this single voice, a woman. It was a sullen and weak voice, the voice of a mother who had lost everything.

I pulled up the internet browser on my phone and typed in the name.

Many news articles popped up about a missing 10 year old and mother who was brutally butchered and tossed into an alleyway. A threat from the perpetrators the news article had called it.

Nonetheless tragic on its own.

“I’m no detective, if the police can’t find her, what makes you think I can?” 

She was quick to answer which surprised me. “ I know things the police don’t.”

“Then why don’t I go tell them what you know?”

“Don’t trust them.”

“Why?” I scrolled through the articles.

“Not all are what they seem to be.”

No one ever is, that’s why the world is so tilted.

A picture of Laura appeared among the lines and lines of words.

“Is this her?” I ask without thinking if she could so or not.

“Yes,” the mother responded. 

“So you can see?”

“Think of me as your co-pilot, Marius.”

Laura had wavy short blond hair and sparkling blue eyes. She was sitting on a woman's lap who was a spitting image of her daughter.

“And that's you?”

Under the photo was a caption saying Laura Plent and Margo Plent.

“Yes. Will you help me?”

The idea of scouting out a missing girl and getting my hands dirty didn't exactly settle nicely in my throat as I accepted it.

Her voice was sincere and grateful as she thanked me.

Now I was committed to something I knew realistically wasn't going to be easy to survive.

---

It was like a game, you accept a big quest and now you have to complete smaller quests to get to the main one.

My first request was to find a man named Marco Franks. He was the last person Margo remembered seeing before dying.

The police had questioned him, but found no dirt that could lock him up.

“That's because all the evidence died with me,” Margo answered as I got ready. “Find a weapon.”

“You don't expect me to kill anyone, do you?” I asked and looked down at my hands.

“These men are dangerous, if you don't kill them then they won't hesitate to kill you.”

“I’m 16,” I argued. I was in over my head, way far over.

“Which is why my hesitation to make you do this sits on my shoulder. But you’re all I have. You’re all Laura has.”

Guilt hit me like the sudden stillness before a tornado.

I grabbed a pocket knife from my bedside table and stuffed it in my pocket.

“You’ll find him in his apartment on Kinsley street.”

---

The door was red, just like all the others in the hall, but this door radiated with bad decisions and horrible mistakes.

“What do I do? Just walk in?”

“Ask him about me.” Margo instructed and then my mind was quiet again. The new found silence was comforted and missed ever since the accident, but right now I wished that I had someone to talk to.

After a few moments of preparing myself for what was to come next, I knocked on the door.

The door opened slightly, and a man appeared between the crack. “Who are you?”

“Uh, I’m Marius, Marius Bates?” I said as if the man was to know me. “May I come in?”

“Why should I let you in?” He asked with a grunt. “I don’t know you, and I don't know your intentions either.”

“I’m a 16 year old boy who just needs to talk to you,” I answered.

“Exactly. Seems sketchy”

“Hm, you’ve got a point Mr. Franks, but I have no ill intentions, you have my word.”

“Having your word is the equivalent of having a lighter without any lighter fluid.”

“That sounds poetic, but I need to talk to you about Margo Plent.”

The man suddenly had no words and his cold hard blue eyes stared into mine.

“That was a long time ago, and I don’t think they allow children like you doing detective work,” he finally said. “ Plus I’ve already talked to the police.” 

“As in a long time ago, you mean only a couple weeks ago?” I challenged.

“Go home, kid,” Marco said sternly.

“I only need to ask a couple of questions,” I held the door open as he tried to shut it.

“I said go home.”

“Please.”

The man quit trying to shut the door. “What's it to you?”

“Margo, she was, uh, my aunt,” I responded.

“Your aunt, huh? Didn’t know that she had a nephew.”

“Neither did she, my mother kept it a secret.”

The door opened fully. “Get in, kid.”

I walked inside and then I could fully sense all the pain that lingered in the apartment.

“If I had known that I would be having company at 3AM then I would have tidied up,” Marco announced as he led me to the living room.

“No worries, I won't be here long.”

He sat down and motioned towards a chair across him. He was distant, lost in a loop of whatever horrors swung in and out of his life.

“Margo was a good lady, respectful, and proud of little Laura. But she got into some bad business. Real bad stuff that got her killed.”

“How’d you know her?” I asked out of my own curiosity.

A faint smile appeared on his lips. “She was a real beauty all right, and her personality lit up some lights inside of you that you didn't know that you had. Dare I say that I fell in love with her,” he looked down at his clasped hands. “We became friends a couple months before the incident. I got into some trouble and then she got dragged into it.”

“What kind of bad stuff?”

“The Montry Gang,” he answered shortly. He turned his hand to show his wrist. A skull with a M on the forehead was burnt into his skin. “They brand you if you cross them and then you’re committed to them. You’re practically property that they own.”

“Montry Gang?”

“Yeah, real bad gang that Margo got mixed up with because of me.”

“Are they ones that took Laura?”

His blue eyes became misty and his face was hollow and grim. “Margo, she, uh, she tried to get out of the gang, you see. She wanted out and she almost did, but Harland, the leader, found her and took Laura as leverage.”

Suddenly I felt cold and heartbroken. 

Suddenly I could feel everything Margo felt at the moment.

“Is she dead?”

“Laura?”

I nodded.

“No, well, at least from what I know.”

“You haven't tried to save her?”

Marco sighed and avoided any eye contact with me.

“Fear can really put a man to shame, kid,” he answered in a defeated tone.

“Where is the Montry Gang located?” 

“The old shipyard, the one that burnt down.”

There was a sudden knock at the door.

“Are you expecting company?” I ask and look towards the door.

“Like I said before, if I was then I would’ve cleaned up.” Marco stood up and then looked down at me. “Marius, right?” I nodded. “The Montry Gang don’t exactly ever let go of their members.” He then looked towards a shelf and on the shelf was a statue of a yellow bird. “I don’t like birds, they piss me off. But, apparently the gang thought it would look nice.” He then shrugged with a sunken smile.

My heart leaped when I realized what he was saying.

“Nice meeting you, kid. But you should leave.” He started towards the door as I jumped to my feet and pushed a window up and crawled out.

The ringing of gun fire startled me. I slipped down the fire exit on the side of the apartment and never looked back as I ran.

---

“I can’t do this,” I announced. I flopped onto my bed and let out of breath that I didn't even know that I had been holding.

“But Laura, she needs to be saved, you have to save her, please.”

“No, it's too dangerous, I’ve already fallen into the hands of death before and I barely got out. I don't wanna risk it again,” I responded strictly. 

“You’re the only one that can do it.”

“They set up cameras in his house! He got himself killed because of me!”

“All the more reason to go. Marco was always the one to be disobedient, but he was always loyal to those he loves.”

Aggravation flooded my body, but the will to refuse was no longer there.

“This Laura girl must be really special, huh?” I asked. If I was going to save the girl then I might as well know some stuff about her.

“Of course, she was my daughter.”

“Huh, egomaniac much?”

“She brought happiness into my life when I gave all my happiness to everyone else. Special is an understatement.”

“If she was so special then how did you end up losing her so easily?” I asked. Inconsiderate would probably be the first word to describe my question, but it was something that needed to be said.

Margo was silent for a moment, but then answered carefully. “The gang hid behind masks that made it nearly impossible to foresee what you were getting yourself into.”

“It was a gang, how could you not tell that you were getting into trouble?”

“Marco had convinced me that it was safe, that I could get more money quickly and easier if I joined. I was desperate, I needed to provide for Laura and myself.”

Desperperation drives people mad. It blinds them from the illness that surrounds them. “You still shouldn’t have joined.”

“I’ve realized that.”

I sighed and remembered the picture of the happy little girl.

“Where do I go next?”

“You know exactly where to go next.”

---

I’ve always felt happy around the water. The smell of the ocean made me feel like my mind was expanding and taking in everything around.

But at this moment I despised the salty smell and the cold air as it stung my nose. 

They never figured out why the shipyard burnt down, many speculated that there was some gas laying around and somebody carelessly flicked their cigarette onto the ground. The building still stood, it was haunting to look at though, some beams leaned against the wall and parts of the roof were missing after years of neglect.

But studying the building was going to get me nowhere with a measly small knife. I sneak in with my heart racing faster than the cars at the Daytona 500.

A faint conversation caught my ears and I stopped in my tracks, taking cover behind a rotting box.

“Who do you think he was talking to?” The first man asked.

“Probably a fed, I only caught the last part of the conversation,” answered the second man.

“Well, we should probably pack up and leave before anyone comes.”

“That's not our decision to make. You know that Harland would skin you alive if you go without permission.”

I slowly inched out of cover and to another box to get a better view of the room that I was in.

Unmistakably, you could tell that there were drugs everywhere. Then amongst the drugs was a singular girl, she was separating the drugs and placing them into bags. Other men stood around casually holding rifles.

I wished I could say that I was prepared and ready to fight, but reality set in and my feet felt submerged in wet concrete.

I surveyed my surroundings, perhaps there was something that could distract the gang so then I could just swoop in and bring Laura out. 

Unfortunately the only thing that came to mind was just to throw rocks at them which wasn't exactly a very good idea. 

Then inspiration sparked when my eyes landed on a box of old fireworks. I quietly snatched a blowtorch that was nearby and grabbed a handful of the fireworks. I hastily ran outside and set up the fireworks.

“Fourth of July is early this year,” I muttered and began lighting each firework with the hope that they would actually ignite.

Hope is a powerful thing. One by one the fireworks shot into the air and exploded into sparkling colors.

“Careful,” Sounded from my mind as I ran back into the building. 

There was nothing careful about what I was doing in general. 

Montry’s gang members scrambled outside just to find a whole display of ‘haha, you just got played’ bursting with colors.

I snatched Laura’s arm but quickly realized that the wall I ran into wasn’t a wall, but a man.

“I’m guessing you were who Marco was talking to,” the man said as he bunched the front of my shirt in his fist.

“Harland.”

“You must be the infamous Harland that he was talking about,” I replied as I tried to keep my voice steady. “ I have absolutely no beef with you or your buddies.” I raised my hands in defense.

“You can’t talk yourself out of this, Marius.”

“You ain’t gonna be able to talk your way out of this one,” Harland snarled.

It was as if I went into auto-pilot. Everything slowed and the knife in my hand was suddenly in Harland’s gut. My shirt was released and I grabbed Laura again. I pushed through the bullets flying through the air and took cover behind a large fallen beam.

“Who are you?” Laura asked as I fumbled with another blowtorch that I found.

“How many of these things do they need,” I mumbled quickly. “Your ma seems to have a death wish for me.” I finally got the torch to spit out a burning blue flame.

“My mom? But I thought she was dead.”

A bullet tore a chunk of wood off of the top of the beam we sat behind. “Well, she, uh, she is.”

Laura’s eyes showed all her confusion. 

“I’ll explain later. When I say go, you run as fast as you can outta here. Got it?” I held her gaze as she nodded quickly. 

I fixed the blowtorch above a wet spot that led towards the containers of gasoline and fireworks.

“Ready… set,” I dropped the flame of the torch onto the gas and watched the fire ignite. “Go!” Laura was already on her feet as I pushed onto mine. The fire snaked through the building and canisters exploded behind me.

By the time we were almost halfway across the shipyard we had finally stopped running.

The building looked like a firework of its own. Sparks flew out of it and the fire ate up everything that was left from the last accident. 

“How did you know that it was going to work?” Laura asked as she watched the building in awe.

“I found a container before I went in and I didn't really anticipate using it,” I answered, “but I drenched the ground with gas.”

“It looks pretty,” she said, the flames were reflected in her blue eyes.

“Oh,” I rubbed the back of my neck,” yeah I guess it does.” I then thought about the burning bodies inside of it and the building suddenly lost its beauty.

I looked down at my hands, astonished that I was able to get out with only a single scratch.

“Thank you, Marius,” Margo said softly.

“You’re welcome, I guess,” I responded, “but what do I do with her?”

Laura gave me a weird look, as if I was mentally unstable. “Huh?”

“Well, her grandparents do live in Washington.”

“You have to be kidding me."