Control Freakz Read online

  Control Freakz

  Michael Evans

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  My neighbor was a crazy bitch.

  You know, one of those old ladies whose skin is so dry and wrinkled that it literally sags off her face. One of those old ladies who probably has a million cats crammed into her small, decrepit house. And of course, every crazy bitch yells and screams ridiculous shit, often slurring her words together, that cause the neighbors to close their shutters in dismay.

  On a handful of occasions, I have been close enough to Ms. Daisy, as she was called, to smell her cigarette-filled breath, and taste the smoke on her. Every time she saw me her eyes would light up and she would start screaming repeatedly, “I know where your father went!”

  My mom would always whisk me away frantically with a worried look across her face, staring at Ms. Daisy like she was a killer of sorts. “But mom,” I would always say, “What if she knows where we can find Daddy? What if she knows how we can get him back?”

  “No.” she’d say. Her answer was firm. “We don’t talk to her.” I could always see the anxiety in her eyes, feel it in her trembling hands that would grasp my wrists tightly.

  Every time my mom would say those words, I would always feel a wave of indignation swell up from within me. She would never get it! Even now I could feel a burst of anger as I slid out of bed. She doesn’t understand how close we were all those years. She doesn’t understand that I can’t just forget about my dad like she can. I can’t just forget and move on past all the memories. They’re still there! Everything is still locked up inside of me, and none of it, including my happiness, will ever be found again until I get him back.

  Stop thinking about it. I walked over to my bathroom sink and let the cool water run over my face. I then put the two internet-contact lenses―or ICLs―into my eyes. Don’t let yourself go there! Not today, you have too much going on at school to let that seep in. I looked in the mirror at my messy, dirty blond hair and brown eyes that so closely resembled my father’s. I would sometimes mention to my mom how I looked like him, but she would narrow her eyes and shake her head silently. It’s like in my mom’s mind, my dad doesn’t even exist. It’s like somehow one night he just disappeared off the face of the Earth, and was wiped from her very memory.

  Maybe that’s why I’ve always felt so disconnected from my mom. To put it plainly, she and I just don’t operate the same way. I can’t bring myself to push back emotions the way she can. In fact, I do quite the opposite. I’ve always been a worrier. A person afflicted with crippling anxiety that regularly boils up inside of me and corrodes all my senses. The anxiety that overcomes me tickles at my skin and pulls my mind into a land of insanity. It always erupts so suddenly and unannounced, like the unwelcomed aunt who always shows up around the holidays.

  Frankly, things inside my brain just don’t feel right. Everything feels like a constant whirlwind, like nothing will ever slow down. At points, I feel like I’m caught in the tumultuous waves of a stormy ocean, constantly at their mercy, going to wherever they take me, and have zero control over the madness that ensues and surrounds me. My brain is a beast of its own, an animal that cannot be contained. And it wasn’t until one pivotal day that I finally discovered what would calm me down―what would make me feel normal―and maybe even the slightest bit happy again.

  I was in the eighth grade, thirteen years old at the time, and it had been five years since we’d moved from Las Vegas to Scottsdale, Arizona. To put it lightly, I was not the happiest camper. In the span of just a few years, both my grandparents had died of cancer, my dad had mysteriously disappeared, and my mom was suddenly on the verge of mental insanity. I felt it was only right for me to feel like my world was over. The only person who was actually there for me at the time was my brother Matthew, who happened to be six years younger than me, but who had no recollection of our father or grandparents. It wasn’t like I was able to talk to him either. I seemingly had nobody. I felt all alone on a desolate island of despair, and I was convinced that soon the cold winds of regret would sweep me up and carry me away to another world.

  It didn’t take long until things started to spiral even further out of control. I began to miss so many days of school that I was on the verge of being held back. My friends slowly began to distance themselves from me, and my mother, while I was throwing my life away, sat back and watched it the whole time like it was some sort of horror movie. Maybe that’s what hurt me the most, the fact that no one around me cared enough to ever tell me to stop. The fact that after our whole lives had fallen apart, all of us had been left on our own to pick up the remnants of our former lives and try to piece back together our broken emotions into one fleeting memory of happiness.

  But instead of facing that reality, and facing all the pain and sorrow, I found it all too easy to just run away from it all. My thoughts quickly turned darker―much darker. During those days, I remember feeling like if I died right then and there, it wouldn’t matter. After all, everyone who ever truly cared about me was dead; there was nothing left for me here. I felt like there was no reason to stay alive. Until I met Hunter.

  The brown-haired, blue-eyed beauty, who’d lived next door to me for so many years, not only became my muse, he was the one who saved me after my fall from grace. It was by chance that we started talking. Our paths began to cross with school, friends, and in the neighborhood, until finally they seemed to merge. At first glance, Hunter seemed like my polar-opposite. He was nice, funny, and happy, and it seemed like he was headed on the right track in life. A girl like me, who was on the verge of dropping out of school and was depressed about her own existence, isn’t supposed to hang out with guys like that. It’s just the natural order of things.

  On the outside Hunter seemed like he had the perfect life; great parents, nice house, happy siblings. Little did I know, that while Hunter still held out hope for a better future, his entire life was falling apart before his eyes. I still remember the day he told me that the government was beginning to track his every move. I still remember the day he told me that his dad was going to be sent away to a correctional facility because he’d written an article exposing the dirty schemes of the government. And I still vividly remember the horror that ensued as numerous government officials dragged his dad away from their family and away from Hunter’s life―forever.

  Despite all this, Hunter still found a way to live. He still held out hope, despite the fact that most of his dreams were getting crushed. He still tightly grasped the joyous moments of life, even though much of his happiness had been ripped away from him. And the whole time I found myself sitting back in awe, wondering how he could make it through to the next day. Sometimes I would just stare at him, constantly baffled by how he persisted through all the government screenings, the monitors, ankle bracelets, and interrogations. But he did. And somehow he willed me to have that same drive and infused that same hope in me. Somehow, even in his darkest hour, he found the strength to stand by my side and be there for me during my darkest days. Hunter was the one I needed. Hunter was the connection my mind so insatiably desired, and once that craving was fu
lfilled, I could finally feel myself let go of some of the pain and sorrow I’d let fester inside of me over the years.

  Hunter saved me from myself, and possibly from my ultimate demise. And the connection that we made brought me hope that I could one day be happy again.

  “Why you lookin’ all depressed?” my brother Matthew asked. His cute, hazel eyes narrowed at me with confusion.

  I dropped my spoon into my bowl of cereal at the sound of his high-pitched voice. Its sharp clank sliced through the silence and reverberated throughout the room. It instantly caused my thoughts to scatter. His eyes had the same warm, creamy texture of my father’s, and his face, even at nine years old, had the defined features of my dad: prominent jaw-line, small but round ears, thin, black eyebrows, and an infectious smile. Matthew was like the mirror image of my father, a constant reminder of what I’d lost. Every time I looked at him, I could feel the memories beginning to resurface and a wave of tears incessantly poking at the corners of my eyes.

  I hastily wiped the thin film of tears that had collected in my eyes, and I tried to clear all the emotions threatening to pour out of me. Instinctively, the thoughts of my past were pushed deeper into my brain, and were locked away where it was impossible for their desperate screams to be heard.

  “Were you crying?” Matthew began to grin.

  “No. No,” I replied. I could feel my cheeks flush, and the frantic truculence behind my voice as it echoed off the walls in our kitchen. “It’s just allergies.” I gave Matthew a stern look, warning him not to tease me. “Just allergies.”

  “Hmmm,” he replied, shooting me a look that implied he wasn’t convinced, his eyes peering into my soul. “Maybe it’s a side effect of the medication?” He smiled, but I could hear a nervous crack in his voice.

  Even with him I feel vulnerable; even with him, all the sadness, anger, and regret manages to painfully hide deep within my body. The pill. I swallowed another wave of anxiety that dared to leap out of my throat into a scream, just as the both of us had swallowed the big, bright blue pill last night.

  “Shit,” I said, my voice low. I felt my eyes instinctively dart around the room to make sure Mother wasn’t covertly listening in on our conversation.

  “What do you think that was all about?” Matthew’s hazel eyes grew wide as his body visibly tensed up.

  “I don’t know, but it can’t be good.”

  My mind flashed back to last night. The images of the blue pill, the screaming, the crying, and the crazed look in my mother’s eyes instantly flooded my mind. I could feel the cold, smooth texture of the pill slide down my throat like a parasite, and the words spewing from my Mother’s mouth as they incessantly echoed in my head: “You must take this. It’s for your own good; it’s for your survival. And without it, you will die.”

  The hairs on my body stood straight up as an arctic chill made its way down my spine. I could feel my mind get swept away by the emotions and sucked into my memory. I still remember the ominous, calm tone of my mother’s voice as she forcibly shoved the pills down our throats, telling us our lives would be destroyed if we didn’t take them. There was a familiar fire deep in the core of my mother’s eyes, a fire that had ceased to glow for the many years since my father’s disappearance. A fire, that when visible, gave my mother the strength and the will to finally be in control. And for all the years this fire had been missing from her she would be mercilessly subjected to the will of the world, just like ashes left as remnants of a brighter time, only to be carried away by the wind.

  “Do you think she drugged us? Or is there going to be a huge pandemic?” Matthew’s voice was a whisper, yet the eagerness in his tone rung in my ears.

  “I think it has something to do with our father.” I paused. I could feel more tears welling up in my eyes. “He’s connected to this somehow or someway.”

  Matthew rolled his eyes.

  “Natalie, when are you going to stop saying that everything goes back to Dad? We don’t even know if he’s still alive, let alone whether he still cares about us. The pill must be part of something else. I just don’t know what yet, and for some reason Mom really cares about it.”

  I bit my tongue to refrain from snapping back at him.

  “No matter who is involved,” I said, “we still don’t know what it does. Even Hunter’s mom made him take it, so this must mean something.”

  The fear from last night started to course through my veins again. What if the pills kill us? What if the government’s going to use them to track us? I let out a long sigh, letting some of the anxiety dwindle with every exhale. It will all be okay. It always is.

  “Good morning.” Mother’s curt, yet oddly high-pitched tone echoed off the smooth white walls of our kitchen.

  I spun around, startled to see her amber eyes glowing, yet there was a solemn, almost scared look on her face. My gut reaction was to immediately yell at her. I could feel the anger sizzling inside of me like it was an egg on the pavement on a hot day, and the emotions were emanating throughout my body, which caused my fists to shake.

  “Don’t just come in here like that.” I shot my mom a sharp look, but then instantly looked away. I saw my brother’s eyes grow wide in full anticipation of another fireworks show at the breakfast table.

  “Excuse me?” she said with the usual faint edge to her voice. Suddenly, though, I noticed there was a different look in her eyes. Instead of a look of anger or annoyance, I could see a thin film of sadness and maybe even regret starting to form in her pupils.

  “You can’t just wake up and expect us to move on when you continue to lie to us!” I shouted as tears started to flow from the edges of my eyes. “You can’t continue to keep our lives from us! You can’t continue to lie to yourself! You have to tell the truth instead of burying your head in a mountain of bullshit!”

  “Stop!” I heard Matthew’s voice cut in. “Natalie, not now!”

  “No! No! No!” I screamed, my face seething red, attempting to release some of the anger inside me. I quickly glanced up at Mother, who stood motionless; her pale body looked broken and fragile in the yellow light, and her face looked more sunken in and defeated than I’d ever seen before. I could feel myself slowly losing control and falling to the mercy of my emotions.

  “This has to stop!” My voice boomed, bouncing off the walls. “I can’t live like this any longer! Mom, it’s time to cut the bullshit, and finally tell us the truth! We have the right to know what happened to our father! And we have the right to know what’s happening to us now!”

  There was a long, deadly silence, where both my brother and I glanced at each other nervously as we watched the emotions fester inside of Mom and begin to spew from her like smoke from a cauldron.

  “No.” Her voice started off low, with an airy sound to it. “No. No. No. No!” Her voice grew ever louder before the sheer intensity behind her bellows threatened to shake the white paint off the walls.

  “You don’t understand! You never will!” I yelled. I gulped as she took a few steps forward, and eventually her convulsing face towered above me. “I’m not doing this because I want to. I’m doing this because I have to!” An intense look of fear suddenly surfaced and pierced through the anger in her eyes. “It’s for the future of this country! It’s for the future of the world! And I will do everything in my power to protect it while I still can.”

  The whole room fell silent as both my brother and I exchanged nervous and confused glances. For what felt like hours, my mother just stood there staring off into the void of time as tears streamed slowly down her face and dripped off her cheek into a puddle on the marble floor below. I could feel the pain and anxiety with every one of her weak breaths, and suddenly I felt another burst of emotion.

  “What the fuck!” The words exploded out of my mouth. “What the hell is wrong with you!? Tell us what’s happening. Please!” My words then started to turn into a loud, garbled mess as anger, sadness, and apprehension all bundled up and became one cacophonous sound. “No mor
e bullshit. No more mysterious comments. Just the truth.”

  My mom’s brown eyes fluttered across the room before finally resting on me.

  “That pill . . . “She brushed a hand through her long, wavy black hair. “That pill . . . it . . . it will protect you.” I could hear a crack in her voice. “It’s our only hope. It’s our last chance.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked. I glanced at my brother, who sat frozen with shock, and then back at my mother, who began to cry hysterically. “Last chance for what?!” I pounded my fist against the table, desperately trying to pull the answer out of her.

  We all sat in silence as tears, hot from anger and worry, streamed down my face. What is wrong with her?! What the hell is happening, and why won’t she tell us? The eerie quietness hung in the air like a dense fog, until the doorbell suddenly rang, and the fog instantly evaporated.

  My heart skipped a beat and my eyes instantly shot toward the door, startled. Who could that possibly be? Hunter doesn’t normally come for another half hour, and there would never be a delivery drone here this early. Matthew shot me a confused glance as Mother hastily wiped the tears from her eyes.

  The doorbell rang again.

  “Go ahead.” Mother motioned toward the door. “Answer it.”

  I tentatively got up from my chair swallowed a mouth full of anxiety that was threatening to jump out of my throat, and went to the door. Who the hell is it? Are they related to this damn pill? I slowly turned the knob with my sweaty, shaking hands, and I closed my eyes a bit as the door swung open and whatever monster was on the other side suddenly appeared right in front of me.

  “Hunter!” I instantly leaped forward and wrapped my arms around him. “Thank god it’s you!”

  I felt his warm arms wrap around me as his gentle lips graced my cheek.

  “Who else would it be?” He gave me a half-smile, showing off his gorgeous white teeth. I could tell by his nervous shifting that something was wrong.

  “I have no fucking clue.” I laughed, brushing my dirty blonde hair to the side. It was so mangled and knotted that it appeared to be a light brown color, that Hunter always found attractive. Suddenly I felt Hunter grab my wrist, his fingers wrapped tightly around it as he looked at me intently. My happy expression instantly disappeared and his face immediately turned dark.