Read Online The Dark Inside (A Human Element) by Donna Galanti - Free Book Online Page A

arched his back with a groan and finished his business. Sally squealed and pressed up against him. And when he raised the knife and plunged into Sally in new ways, she squealed again. And again. Her blood ran onto scuffed tiles and still she squealed. And then she stopped.
    Adrian laughed.
    His time here was just beginning.

 
     
     
    A Lucky Strike
    Ben
     
     
     
    Ben Fieldstone watched the coffin as it was lowered into the earth and fantasized new ways to kill his foster father.
    He drags Frank in his drunken daze to the shed, holds up his reeking body, and presses his head in the vise on the workbench. He winds the mechanism…tighter, tighter…Frank mumbles and shrieks…his skin splits and blood oozes down his face.
    He didn't know what would happen if you squeezed someone's head in a vise. Would it just pop and bits of brain and blood explode outward or would it be a slow, bloody mess? His heart pulsed quicker just thinking of it. He knew he could never kill Frank, though. Ben was tall, but thin, and no match against Frank's bulky, squat frame.
    "Hey, let's go." Frank nudged him. "I need to get outta here." His red-rimmed eyes made him appear forlorn over the passing of his wife, Emma, but Ben knew it was the booze. He nodded and ripped off his black jacket, heading toward the rusty car baking in the blistering August heat. It was as if the world had taken its last breath. Summer had sucked the life out of all things green, leaving the cemetery a burnt landscape. His shirt clung to his chest, and the sweat rolled down his back.
    He already missed Emma. His foster mother had been kind to him, when she was sober. But when drunk, she had stared at the TV, ignoring Frank's rages. Those were the nights Frank chased him around the house. Sometimes he used the belt, the one with the heavy metal buckle on it that could catch him across the tender parts behind his knees. Sometimes Frank just liked to kick and pummel. Ben, at seventeen, was afraid to fight back. He'd weather the beatings until he turned eighteen. He had been in five foster homes over the past eight years. He'd seen worse.
    He and Frank drove back in silence.
    "You need to take over Emma's place now." Frank pulled up to their small bungalow. "The laundry, dishes, cleaning…grocery shopping, too."
    A tear slid down his sagging cheek. He didn't bother to wipe it away. Ben tried to feel sympathy, but staring at Frank's rough hands on the steering wheel, he only knew hatred.
    "No problem." Ben jumped out of the car. Up in his room he stretched out on his bed and let his mind wander. If he hadn't run away the night at the lake, he would be dead too, just like his parents. Sometimes he wished it had happened. Dead would be better than this place. Since then he had closed himself off from people. He didn't want to take the chance of loving anyone again. If a foster family decided not to keep him, he couldn't be hurt by their rejection. So he shuffled along from family to family, biding his time. He kept his painful memories just beneath the surface. He closed his eyes against them and dozed off.
    When he woke up, dark enveloped him. Banging noises came from downstairs. He jerked upright. What could Frank be doing? He eased out of his room and moved with quiet control down the stairs from his room. He found Frank smoking at the kitchen table. The light hovered dim, the globe full of dead bugs. Ben counted nine empty beer cans scrunched up on the table.
    "Want something to eat?" he asked, to gauge Frank's mood. He opened the fridge.
    "If I wanted something to eat, don'tcha think I'd be eating it?" Frank spat on the floor. Grimacing, he dropped his head on his arms and started to cry.
    Ben stood still. The sobbing bounced off him. He shifted from foot to foot the longer Frank cried. He forced himself to move nearer and placed his hand on Frank's thick shoulder.
    "We'll be okay. You'll see." Ben tensed and snatched back his hand in disgust. As he turned back to the