Life is a trap. Or at least that’s how he felt. Jackson Reznik had been dealt a hell of a life, or trap, as it was.
Extreme Polycythemia Vera, a rare blood disorder, that causes a thickening of the blood was one of the cards life had dealt to Jackson. At the age of three he had began slowing down, and was unable to function as a normal child would. Doctors at the time had given him a 13 year death sentence. He was now 19, three years passed due.
To top it all off his mother had died only a year before, taken in a car accident. She had been his saving grace, the light of his meager existence, his father having left the pair of them when Jackson was only a few days old. A strange twist of fate it was that he had been allowed to live past his time, and his mother’s had been cut painfully short. In the weeks prior to her death she had been especially worried over him, he had had a rough month.
She was out buying him a special cup of noodles he liked, Konazaki Black Noodles. While crossing the road to the nearby neighborhood store, she was struck down by a drunk driver, he hadn’t eaten them since her passing.
Yet here Jackson was, sitting in the doctor’s office waiting room, at 7:45 pm, merely 15 minutes before its closing, waiting for test results to go home. It was a bit of a shifty place, the only specialist his government funded medicare would cover. He had continued to tend to his health, his mother would have wanted it that way.
“Still waiting Jack?”, the mousy clerk behind the desk asked.
He nodded, forced out of his thoughts by her spurring. The buzzing of the News Channel reporting another death through the television in the corner of the ceiling of the waiting room making him wince.
“Hmm. I’ll go check up with Dr. Flemmings. He’s probably just talking with one of the others back there anyways.”, she muttered the last bit with a frown, perhaps mistaking his wincing for frustration. She stood and hastily went through a door behind the desk she had been sitting at.
“-that’s right John, yet another hit and run, the 14 year old girl was left to bleed out on the street…”, the television blurbed.
“Why?”, Jackson muttered quietly. “Why is life like this…”, he whispered as he pressed his face into his hands.
The shutting of the door jolted him back to reality. “Are you alright Mr. Reznik? The doctor said everything checked out and it seems your condition hasn’t worsened”, the clerk said with a concerned look on her face.
“Right. Thanks.”, Jackson replied somberly as he rose from his seat. “Guess I’ll be on my way then.”, he said with a nod and a small wave to the clerk.
“Have a good ni-”, the clerk said to the shutting door.
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It was dark. It was only 8:00 pm, but the overcast skies and the pouring rain sucked the last vestiges of light out of a dying day. Jack waded through the night, his heavy heart, paired with the cold, slowing him down his jacket pulled all around him
I hate the fucking cold, Jack thought grimly. It was a side effect of his condition, proclivity to the cold, due to terrible blood circulation. I just need to get home, he traipsed on toward his bus stop a flickering light above the somber seats guiding his way. The bus wouldn’t run for another half hour or so, but Jack couldn’t stand to sit in the doctor’s office for any longer than he had to.
The bus stop had a small covering to block the rain, and a bench on each side of the wall from which the covering stemmed. It looked like the bus stop was completely devoid of life, much like the rest of the gloomy street. Jack slumped down on the bench facing away from the road, to avoid any passing cars splashing him with the nearby gutters refuse while he waited. As he sat he let out a slight sigh and closed his eyes. He was tired, doctor days were always exhausting, physically and emotionally. It wasn’t exhausting emotionally due to the fear of his condition, no, it was exhausting because all he wished for was this nightmare to end.
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An individual can only take so much pain before they start to feel like that’s all that there is to be felt. Jack was passed his threshold, far passed it. The only reason he continued on, slogging through his days, was in remembrance of all his mother had done for him, all she had given for him. Her entire life was usurped by his existence, so he was damn well going to live it out.
The soft pat, pat, pat of footsteps began to sound from an alley in between the nearby buildings to Jack’s right.
Probably just a bum trying to find some warmth, hopefully he manages the night. Jack thought, keeping his eyes closed and enjoying the silence.
“Give me your fucking money.”, a gruff, low voice sounded from the alleyway entrance. Jack opened his eyes to see a young, skinny man with a roughly shaved head and stale, glazed eyes standing before him, knife in hand. “Your phone too. Give me both. Now!”, the man raised his voice slightly gesturing slightly with his knife.
“O-Okay. Here.”, Jack dug through his jacket pockets, grabbing his phone, the 5 dollars he had for dinner, and his bus card. “This is all I have! Take it!”, Jack stood and shoved the items out toward the man his gaze sinking to the wet cement between them.
“Are you fucking kidding me. That’s 5 dollars and a shitty flip phone, give me your wallet. NOW!”, the thug shoved him with his shoulder, knocking Jack to the ground.
“That- That’s all I have I don’t have a wallet, I don’t need one.”, Jack mewled, he wasn’t lying, he had never really needed a wallet, he just stopped by the bank when he was meant to go somewhere and withdrew from the account his disability was linked to. “Please sir. I don’t have anything. Please. Please…”, he begged, tears welling up in his eyes.
“You shouldn’t have fucked with me you little shit!”, the vagrant jumped onto Jack, pinning him beneath him. The man was skinny and lithe, but strong, stronger than Jack. He began punching Jack in the stomach and chest yelling for his money.
“HELP! HELP ME PLEASE SOMEONE!”, Jack screamed out.
“FUCK! Shut up. SHUT THE FUCK UP!”, the man assaulting him yelled, trying to cover his mouth. That’s when headlights appeared down the road, from the doctor’s office. “Shit…”, the man muttered with eyes wide, then he looked down to Jack’s face, and his gaze went cold.
Schlick Schlick Schlick. Jack heard more than felt the knife entering and leaving his chest cavity and his eyes clenched shut in pain and fear. He then felt hands rummage through his empty pants and jacket pockets, and heard the man cuss and turn and run down the alleyway. About 30 seconds later Jack heard a car pass by and felt a bit of water pass under the bus stop benches and lap against his head. The car hadn’t seen him, and he couldn’t move or yell out. He felt frozen, like a thousand hours were passing in the cold state, his blood oozing out onto the street.
Jack’s chest was beginning to shudder, and it was becoming very hard to breathe. He must’ve hit my lungs, Jack thought, his eyes inching open to see the dark swirling clouds above him and the raindrops falling toward him. Looks like this is it… I might see you soon mom. He could feel a small smile spread across his face, and hot tears trace down his cheeks. Finally.
Splash. He heard a heavy splash to his right near the buildings. He let his head fall to the right to see a dark figure, shrouded in a tight, black cloak and pants. It looked to be a woman, and she was steadily walking toward him.
She knelt down beside him, brushed her hand across his now blood soaked chest and brought a single finger to her mouth. With a small nod, she knelt farther still so that her face was mere inches from his own. Most of her face was covered by a scarf, but a bit of her auburn hair spilled out, and her eyes burned a deep, dark red.
In that moment, Jack was more afraid of her than he was of the mugger who had stabbed him. He felt a small twinge in his neck and stared into her eyes as his vision got more and more blurry. She lifted away as she readjusted her scarf to cover her mouth and nose again. She sat there a moment, seeming like she was considering, she then used a single fingernail on her right hand, and lanced it across her left wrist. She then began to press her wrist toward Jack’s mouth.
Jack was completely lost, his vision was coming in and out, blackness began to consume him, when a smell like none other he had ever experienced pervaded his mind. It shoved the darkness aside, consuming him in its stead. He could just make out the dainty wrist before him, a slight bit of crimson dripping down to his lips, before he lunged upward besides himself, latching his mouth on to this new, alien delight.
As he welcomed the swirling decadence into his body, his pain began to fade away, his anguish along with it. Jack’s entire body began to burn hot, especially his brain and the area around his heart. Then, with a heaving breathe, he collapsed back down to the wet cement his entire being spent. He felt more than saw the lithe woman stand back up beside him, then his world collapsed, his entire being felt like it was sucked into a hole.
Then Jackson’s world went dark.