CHAPTER 10
THE PURGE

MICHAEL was half-tempted to steal the keys to Miriam's car and drive them to the local movie theater, but Coraline refused to get in. He didn't have his license and never drove a day in his life. No way was she getting in a car with him, and she had no way of driving them either. "The theater is just twenty minutes away," she told him. "We can walk."

Her tight jeans made that difficult, but she still managed to move as fast as she could. The wind blew her dark hair off her shoulders, causing her perfume to fade into the crisp air. Even in November, it was never really that cold in California. However, Coraline found the thin sweater she was wearing tonight not warm enough. She hugged her arms over her torso as they walked.

Michael stayed silent. He was wearing his usual attire, but also adorned an old, jean jacket and black boots. As they passed a corner on the block, he looked over at Coraline, noticing that she was cold. He frowned and laced his arm through her left. Coraline glanced at him with hesitation, but gladly tightened her hold around his. He was so warm. Coraline thought that he could be the human embodiment of a furnace.

It ended up taking a few minutes longer to get to the theater, and Michael didn't let her forget that. Once they were outside the old, local theater, Michael looked out amongst all the people and bit his lip. He threw up his hood and kept his head down. Coraline didn't think he was actually going to do it and almost pulled the hood off herself. She decided against it when she thought about how her mother would reprimand her. So she continued to guide him through the theater as he kept staring at his feet, unaware of the teenagers eyeing them with confusion.

She paid for the tickets. (Eleven dollars each.) He paid for the popcorn, like she asked. As Michael approached the food stand, he made sure to keep his head down, even though it was hard for the young cashier to hear any word he said. Coraline stood idly next to him, clasping her hands together.

"I wonder who Coraline Avery is with."

Her ears perked up upon hearing her name. From the corner of her eye, Coraline saw two people looking over at her. The faces looked familiar, but they were probably nobodies, who liked old gossip. Coraline was still a somebody, despite being an outcast.

"I don't know," the other person said, "but they must have mush for brains to be out with Crazy Coraline."

She bit down on her lip – hard. Her teeth almost threatened to draw blood. No, she told herself. Just ignore them. Nobodies only talk about somebodies. That's just the way it went.

Michael almost tripped over his own feet as Coraline led them to their seats, all the while he was keeping his eyes trained on the floor. "You can look up, you know," she tsked, dragging him by his sleeves up the stairs of theater six, where their movie was playing. They were already late for it, so the whole room was dark and he clearly couldn't see.

"Its okay," he promised, "I got it."

He was holding their sodas. She had the popcorn. One wrong move and he would be spilling that all to the ground.

But they managed to get to their seats without a spillage. Michael ripped his hood off, revealing his scruffy, honey hair, as the title for the movie appeared on the large screen. His eyes went wide at the sight before him. He handed Coraline her large Pepsi and whispered, "The Purge: Election Year?" He raised a brow. "What's this about?"

Coraline pinched his cheek with one hand and squeezed. "You'll see, Langdon," she chuckled. A person shushed behind them, and she looked over her shoulder to send them a scowl. She didn't expect to see Amalia Beaumont sitting a row behind with her sister, Heather. The blonde girl raised a single eyebrow as her stare shifted to Michael beside Coraline, happily enjoying the bloody scene unfolding on screen. Coraline simply smiled and turned away.

"You have to be quiet during the movie," she whispered in Michael's ear.

He leaned in. "Got it," he replied. "Just don't put your hand down my pants. This is already good and I don't want to be distracted."

She snorted. Watching that fictional massacre for a full one hour and forty minutes made her realized how much horror movies made her nauseous. Several times, she found herself curling her face into Michael's arm to distract herself. She almost wished he had wanted her to give him a hand job during the movie. At least then she wouldn't have to watch all the blood and guts. Maybe it was a good thing. She was never good with her hands anyways.

However, Michael seemed ... strange during the movie. He looked almost inspired by it. His expressions reflected awe and amazement at the bright screen. Coraline glanced at him through the corner of her eye many times during the movie, wondering why he looked so ... happy. Blood covered the screen like a blanket. That wasn't exactly a sight to be grinning about, but she guessed he was just excited to see his first movie in a theater. She couldn't blame him.

As the credits began to roll, Coraline blinked her eyes awake. The lights above them turned on. She looked over at Michael, who was gripping the seat in front of him with excitement. "That was awesome, Coraline!" He exclaimed, tugging his hood back on.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it," she chuckled, pulling him up from his seat with her. They exited theater six with the rest of the crowd, and Michael still had his head facing down, refusing to trip. He was getting good at it.

"Wow," Michael said as they walked through the main exit of the building, "imagine if that were real? The Purge, I mean. Think about how many shitty people would be gone!"

Coraline raised a brow, guiding him through the crowd of excited teenagers. "I don't think that's the point of the movie."

Michael rolled his eyes as they made their way down the long street ahead. The sidewalk was slightly wet from the fresh shower that occurred while they were watching the movie. Coraline laced her arm through his and held on firmly, keeping him close. She looked up and asked, "What do you think the point of it was?"

He took a moment to think about it. "Killing shitty people should be okay?"

"No!" She laughed, holding a hand to her chest. Michael took note that she didn't cover her mouth anymore when she did it. "That's the total opposite of ­–"

"HEY!"

The two teenagers turned around. Coraline scrunched her brow at the close distance of the manly voice, but realized the person waiting for them in the darkness was unfamiliar. Just a few feet from them, a hooded teenager stood with his hands in his pockets. She squinted her eyes, trying to recognize the facial features. Coraline didn't know him, but there was no doubt in her mind that she probably went to school with him. Just another nobody.

"Coraline Avery!" The boy called out, beckoning her closer, yet his hands stayed firmly in his pockets.

Coraline glanced to Michael for a moment, who had a grim expression, before turning back to the strange boy. "Do I know you?"

"No, but I know you." He began to stalk forward, causing Coraline's feet to instinctively walk back. "That's what will make this better."

She shook her head once he was a foot away from them. "What are you –?"

"Give me your wallet."

Her eyes fluttered. "What?"

"I said, 'Give me your wallet.'"

Before she could scream a rebuttal, Michael moved in front of her, shooting an arm out to shield her. "Who are you?" He seethed through clenched teeth. "Go away, you vile human."

Coraline swallowed hard at Michael's choice of words, but when she looked back at the unknown boy, she felt nothing but fear. Michael was tall, but this guy was twice his size, with dark curls covered by his hood and a plump nose. Michael's arm was firm and he refused to move it away from Coraline as the other male inched forward.

"Give me the damn wallet!" He demanded. "Now!"

Michael was staring daggers at him. Coraline took a step away, but then the other boy's hand shot out, grasping her arm over Michael's. His grip was rough and firm, hardly giving away when she pulled back. He was trying to reach in her back pocket for her wallet. Coraline's fear was sky-rocketing and her breathing was jagged. She wished her visions had shown her this. If they were such a gift, weren't they supposed to help her?

Suddenly, Michael shoved the boy off, causing him to fall to the ground. The unfamiliar boy stood up immediately. Nothing could fight him off. She saw the lights of the movie theater in the far distance. Coraline's only answer was for them to run. He couldn't possibly outrun them while he was tired.

But then the impossible happened.

Michael raised one arm and slowly formed his hand into a fist. Without warning, flames shot out from the sidewalk, right underneath the dark-haired boy before them. Coraline tripped back, but Michael made sure to shield her away from the severe heat. The boy's screams echoed into the sky as fire licked at his clothes, burning his flesh to the pavement. Coraline's mouth fell open. No shriek could emerge. Michael's hand was still out, shaking as he continued to hold the fist in place. Coraline looked from his hand to the burning man before him. A scream was clogged in her throat.

With a flick of his wrist, Michael snapped his fingers. The boy's head exploded.

Coraline shut her eyes. Crimson dotted her face and clothes. The boy's body fell to the ground and his severed head rolled to her feet. The pavement was coated in warm blood.

She heaved suddenly, unable to breathe. Coraline looked to Michael. His hand was at his side now, and he was staring at the corpse in front of them with a sense of seriousness that she'd never seen before. His lip curled slightly as he collapsed to the sidewalk.

Coraline tried catching him in her arms, but failed miserably. She did her best to drag him away from the blood covering the ground, hauling him a block down. She kept her eyes trained on the murder. Crimson liquid flowed off the sidewalk and into a street drain. Coraline swallowed hard, blinking away a tear forming in her eyes.

"Michael," she called, kneeling before him and hitting his face. "Hey, Michael. Wake up. Wake up." She propped him up against a dumpster. Her hands roamed his cheeks, wondering if the mere touch of her fingers could spark something in his brain.

She was right. Michael's eyes fluttered open. He immediately looked to the murder on their left, and he grinned big. Chuckling softly, he placed a hand on her face and rubbed away the blood that stained her skin.

Coraline's mouth wobbled. "H – How ..." She shook her head. The words, Chosen One, flashed across her vision, forming a collage.

"So it worked," he muttered, turning to look at the corpse again. "Are you okay?"

How could he be talking like everything was normal? He just killed someone out of thin air. Coraline pursed her lips with hesitation.

She could only form one response: "What the fuck was that?"

"I saved us," he replied, "from the scary man. He was going to hurt us to get your wallet, so I hurt him."

"You killed him," she corrected. "You killed that guy. Do you understand that?!"

Michael looked down at his black sweatshirt. The dark color hid stains so easily. Miriam wouldn't suspect a thing. He casually viewed back to Coraline's shocked expression. "I understand." He paused, lips forming into a thin line. "Do you understand why I did it?"

Coraline bit her tongue, trying to keep herself calm as she thought over his words. "Yeah, yeah. I understand. We just ..." She quickly glanced back to the body. Guilt swelled in her gut. "We have to get out of here before someone sees us. I have blood all over my white sweater."

She pulled him to his feet. He shook his whole body and tsked, "No one will notice anyways. People will just think you decided to dress up to see the Purge."

Before Coraline could fire back a snappy remark, a local bus began to slow to a stop ahead of them. Bus 12 usually stopped at the end of her street. She immediately tugged Michael forward, looking over her shoulder at the damage they caused. Blood was starting to flow into the street, covering the entire drain. A breath hitched in her throat.

The bus stopped at an intersection by the end of the street. Coraline sprinted forward and pounded her fist against the doors. The driver reluctantly opened them as Coraline threw a five-dollar bill at him, which he collected gratefully. She tugged Michael through the rows of plastic seats and realized that he had been right. No one looked twice at the teens with red spots covering their clothes. She felt like she was in an alternate reality.

They sat down in an uncomfortable pair of bright blue seats. As soon as Coraline's butt hit the plastic, she released a heavy sigh. She had the window seat, allowing her to watch the bus ride along the deserted streets of their California county. Coraline dared not to look back at the murder scene. She wondered if they would be caught, even though neither of them touched the severed boy.

Michael's arm was laced through her own. He put his hood on and laid his head on her shoulder. The trees became blurs while the bus continued its route. As Michael closed his eyes, Coraline rubbed at the blood drying on her face. She bit her lip with hesitation, feeling his hold on her tighten. He had so much trust in her in so little time. It made her feel loved, but also nervous.

The Chosen One wasn't supposed to make friends. Who decided that she was capable of breaking that?

•••

A/N: Well. That happened.

Here's something more uplifting:

THESE ARE MY OWN TEXTS LAID EASE!!!! THIS IS WHAT MY FRIENDS HAVE TO DEAL WITH ON A DAILY BASIS!!!!!!!