Free Be Mine by Rick Mofina

giggled.
    “Yeah, that’s his new name. Bleeder. Take a hike, Bleeder.”
    “Don’t worry, Blee-Dur.” Amy giggled. “You’re still cute.” Then she
whispered something in Kyle’s ear, making both of them laugh as they walked
away.
    Alone at night in his room, he would stare at the cracks in his
ceiling, wiping his tears. His head would throb as if a spike were being hammered
into his brain, and the pain hummed in a dark corner of his mind, until it
became a strong voice, an entity within.
    Is that you, Bleeder?
    It’s me, sport.
    Will you help me?
    You bet. I’ll take care of it.
    He never breathed a word about Bleeder to anyone. Bleeder was a
powerful and dangerous new friend. No one else would understand how it worked
between him and Bleeder. That’s why he had to keep him locked away, hidden.
    Not long after the incident his father got transferred and they
moved away. Another state, another town, another high school. That move lasted
about nine months, then they moved again. More cardboard, more humiliation.
    But now he had Bleeder.
    And from that point on, he lived his life as most people do,
functioning normally. But under times of stress, he sought comfort in the
secret he possessed while grappling with the fear that maybe his secret
possessed him.
    Such thoughts, brought on by his visit to Hooper’s grave near Lodi,
were making his head hurt. He tried to shrug it off, reaching in the seat next
to him for his bottle of headache pills, downing ten tablets.
    As night descended he thought, It’s funny how everyone wears a mask.
To hide who we really are. So we can bear our little buckets of pain. Over
time, he had perfected his mask. No one knew that Bleeder was behind it,
studying them. His mask allowed him to get close to Molly Wilson. Like Amy, she
had stirred his desires. But he needed to get closer still to reveal the truth,
reveal what he’d come to know. That he possessed a deeper understanding of her.
More than anyone could know. That they shared something more profound than any
two souls could ever experience.
    Soon she would see.
    The Bay Area and San Francisco’s skyline glittered as he crossed the
Bay Bridge into the city. Bleeder needed to work harder to make certain she
would know the truth.
    They belonged together.
    It was a shame about Hooper. But she’d been getting too close to
him. Bleeder couldn’t accept that. It was dangerous. It wasn’t right. Action
was unavoidable. At first Bleeder fought off his urge to act, hoping she would
choose the right course. But she didn’t. So Bleeder took charge.
    What was done was done. And he was stronger for it. His mask could
barely conceal what was seething beneath the surface of his skin. He was
supercharged. Forget the past. Forget everything. All that had happened up
until this point. Bleeder was alive. Bleeder was in control.
    In San Francisco, he wheeled through the hilly streets to the edge
of Russian Hill, then North Beach where he resumed his vigil of her
neighborhood and building.
    God, how he loved to watch her and dream of when they would be
together forever.

FOURTEEN

     
    Molly tried to shove Frank Yarrow from
her mind. Why did he have to show up at Cliff’s funeral?
    Molly’s apartment came into view as she turned the corner on the
last leg of her morning jog. Anger had fueled her run.
    Of all the places and times to appear. He emerged like a specter.
Molly was paralyzed. His appearance had left her speechless. She hadn’t told a
soul about him. Grief had overtaken her at the service, she’d explained later.
    She dropped her keys and the morning paper on the kitchen table,
then collected fruit from the refrigerator and counter. She sliced bananas,
oranges, and strawberries into small heaps, dumping them with low-fat milk into
the blender. The whine of the mixing blades suited her rage. She had ignored
Frank at the service and was relieved not to see him afterward.
    In the gathering following the funeral, Molly had made it