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“The power of imagination makes us infinite.”- John Muir
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It was a dreary December afternoon according to Jack. The trees were bare, no longer shining bright orange and yellow as they did back in October. The grass as well matched the sky giving off a nasty, dark color. “What a shame.” the now 17 year old thought with a loud sigh. He shivered as a gust of frigid wind found its way towards him. It wasn’t something he was used to after his days back on the island long ago.
He missed the hot, humid air on his skin. The sweat dripping down his forehead, bringing down all the grime that was hiding in his hair. He missed a lot of things about that god forsaken place. He definitely missed a certain someone as well. His lips pulled into a slight smirk and he pulled out the cheap pack of cigarettes he stole off his dads desk in his office. Jack took them earlier when his dad wasn’t paying any attention to him. Then again, that wasn’t anything new to both of them considering the fact that they both avoided each other like the plague.
Jack pulled out the lighter he was storing in the front pocket of his hoodie and lit the cigarette. About four hits in and he began to feel warm, signaling that the buzz he always craved was setting in. He leaned his back up against the house and slowly slid down onto the frozen grass in the backyard, not really caring if he tarnished his already battered jeans with mud. Jack closed his eyes and an image of a young boy flashed before him.
He knew the image of the boy well. Just like he knew the back of his hand. The image pretty much never left him, and he found himself thinking about the boy more and more as the years flew by, much to his dismay. He could never forget that blonde, gorgeous hair. How it would lay perfectly on top of his forehead and compliment his eyes oh so well. “That piece of shit...” Jack cursed under his breath, a chuckle following right after. He promised himself he would never say Ralph’s name out loud, and he’s so far kept that promise after all these years cause fuck, sometimes it even hurt to think it.
With the ever so pleasant yet damaging image of the boy presented before him, he let his mind wander a bit more. He wasn’t picturing the boy standing in front of him anymore, but below him on the sand. Ralph was looking up at him with a certain look in his eye. The look of fear that Jack craved to see again. A violent shiver ran down Jack’s spine.
“The things I could’ve fucking done to you.” He whispered and took another draw of the cigarette, not letting the image of the cowering boy slip from him. “I had all the chances in the world to destroy you and I never went through with it.”
He imagined himself flashing Ralph a devilish smile making him violently shake beneath him on the sand. He pictured Ralph with blood seeping out of cuts all over his body and tears streaming down his face. His cheeks burning a pretty pink with snot running out his nose. Jack now brought himself into the picture, wrapping his hands around the pretty boys tan neck. Imagining that he could feel the blood rapidly flowing underneath his very own finger tips. The power Jack felt alone just thinking about it was beginning to make him hard.
“I could’ve made you mine and mine only, but you were always too damn stubborn.” He said to the boy. Jack always wondered what Ralph’s begs and moans would’ve sounded like. He couldn’t hear the boys voice inside his head. He never did. Ralph never replied to him or never even made a sound in his imagination, and it really pissed Jack off.
He didn’t care that the cigarette in between his fingers was damn near burnt out. He had better things to pay attention to by now. His cold hand made its way down to cup his rather bulging member and he let out a small gasp. He wished it was Ralph’s hand and not his. Jack couldn’t even begin to phantom the ecstasy he would have felt if that was the case. Whether the boy would do it willingly or not didn’t matter to him. Ralph’s say in anything never mattered to him the more he thought about it.
Yes, he would actually enjoy it so much more if the boy thrashed around and begged him to not make him do it.
He should’ve made him do it. He should’ve forced Ralph to do many terrible, unforgivable things just to please Jack. Maybe if he actually went through with all the horrible things he pictured doing to Ralph on the island, his demons would be put to rest. He wouldn’t be plagued with nightmares every time he tried to go to bed. Maybe, just maybe, he would actually get some fucking sleep for once. He’d be completely satiated. Just knowing that he actually succeeded in breaking him. Showing him who’s really in charge and who knows exactly what they’re doing in life.
His arousal was subdued when a sudden burst of anger washed over him and his eyes shot back open. Throwing away the image of the beautiful, bloody boy underneath him. It’s not like he was gonna miss the image anyways. Jack knew he would be see it later tonight in his dreams. Now the dark, cloudy sky was the only thing staring back at him as reality sadly set back in.
He threw what was left of his cigarette onto the ground and stomped it out, adding a little bit more pressure on it than what was actually needed. Near the front of the house he heard a car pull into the driveway, signaling that his dad had come back from work early. Jack quickly patted down his hoodie looking for the cigarette pack, but it was no where to be found. “Ah fuck...”
Of course this just had to happen to him. Things never went Jack Merridew’s way. If only he didn’t daydream his life away about that worthless, annoying punk then he would’ve been a little bit more aware of his surroundings. Jack just knew his dad was gonna rain hell down on him later tonight if he didn’t find the pack soon. As he quickly looked around the backyard, feeling his heart beat begin to pick up a bit, the image of the blonde boy flashed before him once more. “That piece of shit.” Jack swore rather loudly. However, the picture of Ralph was different this time as the boy was no long crying on the sand underneath Jack, but rather, flashing him a devilish smile.
The same smile Jack always showed Ralph in his nightmares.
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