 
# The Devil's Monologue

3 Years Later

By Kimberly Fuller

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Copyright © 2013 by Kimberly Fuller

All rights reserved. Published by Kimberly Fuller

First Edition, 2013

Printed in the U. S. A.

# 3 Years Later Series

H. A. Carter

The Devil's Monologue

# The Devil's Monologue

3 Years Later

By Kimberly Fuller

This installment is dedicated to all the bullies

in the world (you know who you are),

who give us hope that for every wrong.....

there has to be a right......

# "Even Grown Men Cry: A Declaration"

I have shed more tears than droplets fall from the sky

My well is empty, I can no longer cry

Do not digress

Pain still resides

Crushing, gripping, constant restricting

Never lifting

I push. I shove. I kick down that door

I can't let this win anymore

Out, out damn spot of sorrow

I want you gone, today, not tomorrow

Leave me and set me free

I'm over this hurtful menagerie

I want still to cry, I really do

But I will not cry for you

## 1

### Pride is a hard pill to swallow. No matter how much sugar coating you try to dip it in, or how much booze you drown it in, the painful choking sensation never subsides or goes away. I've choked down my share of humble pie these days, being left with nothing but a mouthful of bitter resentment and shame. Not exactly a tasty treat in my book. Admitting you are wrong is often the most freeing and damning act of humanity one can conquer. Even after all I've been though, I do still like to think I have some humanity left. Even the bad guy has his moments, doesn't he?

### I could be wrong though. You frequently have to be wrong in order to realize what is right. Sometimes that realization comes too late, and more often than not comes at a great price. Mine, was the ultimate price. But, after what I did, I guess I deserve it. Maybe...

### Looking back I try to remember where it all began. Just how does one become the proverbially "bad guy"? I'm not the result of some crazy experiment gone wrong or an evil alien hell bent on destroying the world. I was just a boy trying to turn into a man. So where did I turn "bad"? For one, I never got caught or got in trouble, even when I was blatantly at fault. That was solely because of the Old Man. Everyone respected him, therefore everyone respected me. They just did what I said, without question.

### Almost everyone, anyway.

### I guess this was the reason I developed such a Napoleon complex, minus the short stature. It didn't exactly earn me any cool points, but I had power. Power sometimes brings out the worst in people.

### I was so arrogant my own father became disgusted by my very presence. Praise turned into resentment as he watched me begin the life he had always wanted for himself. It wasn't the life I wanted, but if it got the things I craved, I choked it down. You know, humble pie, and all. But, it never mattered what I wanted anyway. As long as it kept the Old Man off my ass, I did what he wanted. I became who he wanted to be. Sort of, anyway.

The Old Man was the biggest hard ass I ever knew. He'd never admit to anyone but me what a disappointment he thought I was, or how I turned into such a failure in his eyes. I bet they could tell though. Secrets don't stay buried forever in small towns like Stillwater. Especially after the Old Man started paying attention to what he was doing more than me, praising him, comparing the two of us like we were actual...no matter. What mattered was that Ma saw it too. She couldn't handle the Old Man's secrets sometimes, and of course there were all of the "special" kept secrets about him and that whore we were never allowed to speak of. It was all just the beginning to a tragic end. I just didn't know it.

### I was in high school when it all started to go downhill. Everyone around me thought I was perfect, maybe a little flawed on the inside, but perfect on the outside nonetheless. During that time, I wasn't exactly considered a scholar. I wasn't stupid, despite what some people thought, I just didn't give a fuck about teachers telling me what to do. I mean, really? Who did they think they were anyway? I ended up paying for that mindset though.

### Women were another complicated matter. The only ones I seemed to be able to keep around worth a shit were the ones I paid, or coerced, of sorts. The one I wanted didn't exactly want me, leaving me swimming in uncharted emotional waters. I just couldn't get through to her like all the rest. She was just...different. She made me feel flawed through all of my apparent perfection. Sometimes I think a part of me even hated her.

### My most noticeable actual flaw, however, was my new found unsteadiness on and off the field. I had become a rotten apple that hadn't even fallen from the tree yet. Drinking became my favorite past time, and whiskey was my best friend. Sadly, the booze was starting to take it's toll on my balance and left my hands shaky and uncoordinated. Not something that will gain you a football scholarship no matter how much of a show boat you were on the field. The Old Man was sure pissed about that turn of events. He threw me against the wall that night. Even after he found out I had taken one his bottles of Johnnie he kept hidden from my mom the night before the game, he still couldn't put any blame on himself. I'll never forget how he screamed in my face saying how much he didn't want me to end up like him. He was right. I didn't want to end up like him, but I didn't want to live his dreams either. The Old Man put all his chips on me getting into college football and being the great success he wasn't. He didn't even know I hated that fucking game.

I hated a lot of things back then. I hated school. I hated football. I hated him.

### All I wanted was to get through high school and start making my own rules. Ones that didn't include what the Old Man had to say. I was prepared to do whatever it took to get the hell out of Dodge right after graduation.

### I admit I used to be quite the manipulator myself. Now that I think about it, I don't even know if I really gave a shit about anyone else during that time. People were just my tools to get the things that I wanted. If I had to step on a few toes, then so be it. If I had to break those toes on the way, who cares! They'd recover. They'd get over it. Everyone gets over it with time, right?

I had no idea then that some people don't get over it. Some people lack that ability to see an asshole for what he's worth and just ignore him. Some people don't know how to move on without the pain. Looking back, I wish I had just been ignored by some people. Perhaps, my humble pie consumption would have meant more to me had I been on the receiving end of shit more often. Perhaps, I would have changed sooner instead of being forced to change in the darkness of Hell. I'm not even sure if I really have changed or if I'm just becoming used to the constant flow of remembrance. I actually kind of like remembering. Beats the crap out of the alternative.

### You know, I don't even have an excuse for the way I behaved to other people. It wasn't that I was picked on in school because I was usually the bully. It wasn't that I had a rough childhood filled with sad sob stories to tell Oprah. Granted, the Old Man did have a firm hand and a few choice words when he was drunk, but it wasn't anything I couldn't shove under the rug. I wasn't the loner or the outcast. Hell, I wasn't even the fat kid. That's the sad part, I had everything anyone could ask for, and threw it all away for greed and jealousy. I lost my parent's respect and didn't blink an eye because I thought I didn't need them anyway. I did unspeakable things to the girl I thought I loved and smiled the next day because I had finally gotten from her what I wanted. Worst of all, I tortured my own flesh and blood on a daily basis just to ease my own insecurities. None of those things mattered. It wasn't until I lost my soul that I even considered what I had become. Just another cruel monster.

### I want to say, I changed it all in the nick of time. I want to say, I made a difference right when it counted. I want to say these things, but I know now that saying them doesn't make them real. The true hard painful pill of it all, is that I did nothing until I had lost everything. I choked down that bitter pill with an ocean of solemn disgrace, and saw myself for the first time. That moment, was the morning I woke up and realized I was dead.

## 2

### I do have to admit, Hell has kind of grown on me. Pain has become almost a sweet pleasure. It helps to replace the longing for any of the old human vices I used to crave. It also helps to cover up the resentment that constantly tore at my heart when I was living. At least in Hell I don't have to deal with anyone's bullshit. I don't have to live up to anyone's standards. No more being the bad ass king of the jerks down here. Here, I'm just a washed up drop in Satan's piss bucket of monsters. Such an overwhelming sensation of superiority mixed with the realization that you are shit on the devil's boot. Half the time I don't know whether to laugh or puke.

I often wonder if others down here feel the same way. I wonder if he feels the same way. Yes, there are those times that I feel insane and scream to repent, hating beyond hate at the things I've done. Those times that I know for sure I've gone off the deep end and become completely bat shit crazy. Those times are what hurts the most. I don't deny the things I've done to deserve being locked in Hell. I know I'm a piece of shit and there is no redemption for me.

### The first step to recovery is acceptance, right? I learned that when the Old Man joined AA for the hundredth time. Every time we'd go through a few glorious months of, "I'm sorry", and "I'll never do it again". Who the fuck was he ever kidding? Drunken Bastard. I both loved and hated that man more than anyone. For a good chunk of my life he was my every reason for living and my every reason to commit suicide. No one could build me up or hurt me more than him. The things I did to make him happy...

The Old Man certainly knew the key to nonchalant motivation, whether it be for good or evil or somewhere strangely in between. Ugh, there's that guilty heavy horse shit suffocating me yet again. Jacky, you sick son of a bitch, how could you have done that to another human being? My mind plays stabbing games at my heart and soul. I wish I could get it through my thick skull that I'm already dead and no one cares what I've done. That's a plus to being in Hell, you know. No one cares what I do, what I say, what I think. I have no more reasons or motivations for being anything other than what stares grimly back at me in my cracked mirror. Just you and me, Jack, I say to my reflection. Just us and an eternity of reliving the past.

### *

### "Jacky! Get your ass in here!"

A booming slur screamed in my ear from down the hall. I knew whatever I had done this time was going to get me a slap to the back of the head, maybe even a shove through the doorway. Time will tell. Sometimes I just wish I knew what it was I had done. Maybe next time I'll actually do it. I bet he'd like that. I miss the way he used to be, I thought sadly.

### "Just a minute, Dad!" I called back, knowing full well that would only anger him more, but I didn't give two shits these days about what he thought. Too much time has passed, and I have done far too much for me to care what he thinks. The days of pleasing Daddy were over. I knew a lot of things were over lately.

### The Old Man never used to get so angry with me, even when he was drunk. So much has changed these last few months. None of it good. I know that dirty whore and her freak has changed him into this bitter puppet that I call "Dad". Why won't my mom put a stop to this? She has to know what's going on? It's so embarrassing!

### "Jacky! I said now, you little fuck!"

### I heaved a deep sigh and got up out bed. I shoved my hand through the gaping fist shaped hole in the front of my broken bedroom door and started down the hall towards the spare bedroom. Last door on the left. I knew for sure that's where I'd find him, wreaking of whiskey and cigars. Another night of "overtime", I'm guessing. I wonder if they bother to get a hotel or just fuck in the parking lot.

His "overtime" nights all end up the same. He comes home late, half crocked, wreaking of cheap perfume and smoke, and pining in his "office" of forlorn. His "office" being nothing more than a half empty room filled with his old high school trophies and newspaper articles of "what could have been" memories scattered amongst a dozen dust covered boxes that hadn't been moved since I was knee high to a stack of bibles. Occasionally an article or two would end up downstairs, or a trophy would get dusted and displayed in the living room for a few days, but other than that the room was a tomb of broken dreams. He frequently reminded me of why his dreams were shattered every time I walked through that doorway. Somehow my mere existence deprived the world of his greatness. Apparently sex ed didn't exist in his time because God forbid should he ever take responsibility for his own pubescent actions behind the bleachers. I mean, how was he to know screwing the cheerleader would cause a baby? Teen pregnancy was just an urban legend, right? Fucking Jerk.

### The door made a slight creak as I opened it slowly, cautiously. The Old Man was slumped over his worn leather chair, clutching an old tattered year book. The aroma of whiskey was so thick that I coughed hoarsely, both choking on it's heaviness and easing in its comforting familiar taste as it tickled my tongue with each breath. I suddenly felt ashamed to be standing in front of him.

### "Yeah, Dad?" I said just above a whisper, hoping he really wouldn't hear me and just pass out like usual. I wasn't sure if I could take a confrontation tonight.

### He roused only slightly, groaning and snorting as he did so, drool already puddling on his fake wooden desk, "Jacky, you little piece of shit. You! It's all your fault! All you and....that damn... I could have....we could've...been..."

Here we go again, I thought. It always came to this. Every f-ing time! I braced myself, waiting to hear the onslaught of disappointments and shoulda coulda wouldas. It honestly used to make me hate myself, pushing me to be the best. At the very least to be better than him. I knew the real reason why my dad drank constantly and ended up in his "office". It wasn't because of me. It wasn't because of my manic depressive mother either. It was because of him and that slut. All he ever thinks about anymore is, "what if". Trust me, Dad, I doubt your life would have been any peachier if you had been with her.

### Now he's hell bent on reliving the past. I even caught the Old Man on the phone with her the other night. In our own house even! Doesn't he even care anymore?!

I don't get it. He never used to care about them, cursing their existence, complaining about every dime forcibly spent to ease her burdens of raising a loser. It used to actually make me feel special that he cared for Mom and I more, choosing us instead of them. My grandpa wouldn't have had it any other way thankfully, spreading rumors about that whore to the entire church when the Old Man started talking to her again. Pop Pop was so convincing that one horn dog decided to take it upon himself to help her "repent". He even got her to go on a date with him. Sure wish I could have seen the look on old Vern's face though when he discovered she wasn't actually the repenting type.

A slight snort emerged from the Old Man's body as I realized he had succumbed to his drunken slumber, a warm thread of liquid oozing down the side of his face. I lucked out tonight. I waited only a few seconds before leaving him to his withering dreams. Sleep tight, Jerk.

I trudged down the hall, passing my mother's room, glancing only briefly. She was sleeping soundly on top of the flower print comforter tucked in with careful precision around the squared mattress. She sleeps so much these days. I'm not even sure she's eaten today, or yesterday for that matter. Her long wavy blonde hair was thinning out beyond recognition, dangling limp across her bony shoulders like brittle straw. I hadn't noticed just how thin she had gotten recently. I sure wished the medication Dr. Walls started her on would get her out of this slump. I hated seeing her like this, like nothing matters. I also hated that she didn't care about defending me. Never once has she stood up to the Old Man. Seriously, Mom? Not even a , "Shut up, Jack",or "Leave him alone"? Nothing? I guess I wasn't worth her time either anymore. I wonder if she agrees with him. What dreams of hers did I ruin? I wondered.

I eased down the stairs and made my way into the kitchen. I wasn't hungry, but needed something to keep my mind occupied. Aside from thinking about my drunk ass father and zombie mother, all I could think about was him... Never in my life have I hated someone so much. I'd do just about anything to hurt that little bastard for taking my father away. Anything.

## 3

It used to be so important to me. Getting back at him for ruining my life was all I ever thought about. It's practically all I lived for. Revenge, football, and girls. Mostly revenge, less football, only one girl in particular, and never in that exact order. You know, I'm not all that certain it's still not important to me, just not as much fun.

### I know he's here with me in the darkness of Hell, writhing in his own shit. Or so I hope. He has to be after what went down, but not being able to see the torment on his putrid little face just doesn't make hating him worth the effort like it used to. Damn, I must be losing my touch.

### I did some crazy things to that kid.

### Verbal abuse.

### Physical abuse.

### Mental abuse.

### You name it, I did it all, and enjoyed every minute of it. I was the king!

### I wonder if he still remembers even half of the shit I did? I know I do. Some of the only memories I have that actually bring a smile to my face are the ones that involve putting Mr. Know-it-all in his rightful place.

### All he ever really wanted was to be left alone, except when he found out about us, then he wanted a truce. A small part of me wonders what it would have been like had I just been a little nicer. Maybe we could have been friends. Am I really such a monster for tormenting him when all he wanted was peace?

No, Jacky, you're not the monster. He is the monster. Everyone says so! Everyone thinks you are a frickin saint! Pick your sorry ass up and stop being such a pussy! I scream at myself.

### God, I sound like the Old Man.

### Ha! I bet that would really get his goat.

## 4

### I threw the half cracked egg hard at the beat up wooden door. It smashed dead center making a soft splat sound, milky goo dripping slowly to the concrete below. I waited for the light to flick on at the old "Carter Mansion", excitement growing at seeing the pained look on his face when he opened the door.

### The living room light peaked through the dirty off white curtains, the soft yellow glow from the cheap light bulb giving them an even dingier color. I'm not sure why, but I wondered why they didn't just buy new ones.

### A slow creak resounded through the darkness, echoing off the trees. The wind howling slightly in response as the sticky egg remnants started fusing to the scratched door. I waited.

Dark hair emerged through the half opened crevice, my heart sinking only slightly. The delicate frame of a woman appeared, raising a petite hand up to her mouth, tears welling in the corner of her eyes. A small pang of remorse resonated through my insides as Trina Carter assessed her front door. I don't often feel bad, but this time I did. Seeing her cry over nothing more than one of my stupid pranks was almost hard to handle. Why couldn't he have answered the door?

### I turned to leave, the fun sucked right out of the night, when another voice filled the air.

### "Mom, are you okay?"

### "Oh, yes. I don't know why I'm crying, it's just another prank. Why do they keep doing this, Harvey, why?" she sobbed.

He stepped forward, giving his mother a tight hug as if saying he was sorry for all of this. You should be sorry, I thought bitterly. The both of them.

### Trina gave her son one last sadden look and stepped back into the decrepit old house. Harvey waited only seconds before turning towards the trees, towards me, staring hard into the night. Daggers filled his eyes, his lips smeared into a tight angry line, but he said nothing.

I caressed another smooth round piece of ammo with the edges of my fingers, the tiny egg itching to be released. Harvey took the sleeve of his shirt and began wiping away the gunk from the previous strike. His back turned boldly against me. He knew I was there. Probably even knew I'd do it again, but continued cleaning the door. God, you're stupid.

### I wasn't the stealthiest person on the planet, but my feet were like butterflies, quiet and sure. I flew up just yards from where he stood, incessantly wiping. My arm arched back, nature taking over, as I rocketed the egg straight at his scrawny body. The white shell splattered and cracked into hundreds of gleaming pieces, smashing unceremoniously across the back of Carter's faded blue shirt. I laughed out loud, almost snorting, unable to control the glee I felt.

### Harvey didn't move, didn't even turn around this time. He just sighed heavily and continued wiping the damn door.

### "Fuck you, Carter!" I yelled triumphantly as I darted down the street, not caring who saw or heard me anymore.

### Mike met me a block away, out of breath and laughing hysterically, "Did you see the way...haha..the way those eggs just smashed all over him! I...I can't believe he just stood there! Hahaha!"

### Mike slapped his hand in complete redneck fashion against his knee, doubled over, clutching his stomach with the other hand. His convulsive laughter getting so exaggerated I thought he may even puke from excitement.

### "Oh, shit, that was fun!" he chuckled, regaining his composure.

### I nodded in agreement, giving Mikey a sharp punch to the shoulder, feeling satisfied with a job well done. He rubbed his arm, taking in a long, thoughtful, deep breath. His face suddenly serious.

### "Not that I don't love screwing up Carter's life, but I've always wondered. Why him, Bro? I mean, there are a ton of other losers we could pick on just as easily," he asked with a slight nervous chuckle. I could tell he had worked up a lot of courage to spit out a question like this. I almost admired him for that. Almost.

### "Because," is all I said, turning away. I sauntered off gruffly, leaving my best friend alone in the foggy yellow glow of the streetlight. Alone with his traitorous thoughts.

## 5

### Mmmm, memories. Sweet memories. Some much sweeter than others, of course. Screwing over Harvey was always a happy time, but my memories of Jo, however, still melted my heart and broke it at the same time.

"She should have been my girlfriend! Mine!! She should have screamed my name!!" I shrieked into the darkness, angry spit spraying from the corners of my mouth amidst my rage. I could feel the overwhelming sensation of heat bubbling in my veins and fire flaming in my heart. The telltale signs of vengeful wrath I knew were nothing more than imaginary, but the diminishing link between my mind and body often couldn't tell the difference in the burning warmth of Hell.

### Joanna had always been meant for me. I was certain of that. She belonged to me long before that puke was able to somehow manufacture his balls and lure her into his lunacy.

### I had so many plans for us. Perfect plans. We could have had the perfect life, the perfect house, the perfect kids! She would have made a great mom...

Perfection away from Stillwater and all its bullshit. How the hell could she have picked him over me? You could barely call him a man in comparison to me! How could she not see that?

### I was stronger. Better looking. Rich! Powerful! She must have been blind as well as dumb.

### No, I take that back, she wasn't dumb at all.

### She was incredibly brilliant.

### Too brilliant in fact.

### Maybe that was it. Was I thought to be too stupid for her?

### What? Not nerd enough for you, Jo Jo?!

I know I wasn't the smartest guy in school, like him, but I wasn't really a complete moron. I thought she knew that. How could she not know that?

Somehow, I thought that night would make her see. I thought she would see what she was missing after all and realize we were right for each other. We belonged together! Did she not feel how nicely we fit?

### But no, she ran right back to that little maggot afterwards and caused all this shit to happen. She's the reason for all of this.

### Stupid Bitch...

## 6

### "No. No. No! I am not like that anymore! Not anymore! I'm better. I'm better. I'm better!" I scream at myself, pounding my fists uselessly against the sides of my head.

### "You are not like this!! Be better. Be better. Be better!!"

### I strike myself again and again, clubbing and thumping my hard head, hoping to feel some kind of physical pain. Any kind of pain but the deep resentment I constantly feel inside. I have never had to feel as worthless in my whole life as I have been made to the last 3 years.

### I think it's been that long? Hasn't it?

### No.

### Yes! I think.

### Oh, God, I'm going crazy again! Lock me up in one of those little padded rooms and make me swallow the key. I might as well be in the looney bin. Can't be much different than Hell, right? Except maybe the elevator music is a little better.

### Shameful tears escape down my hardened cheeks despite my best efforts to force them back. I was never much of a crier when I was living, nor was I allowed to be. Crying was for the candy asses I beat up and threatened. Boys cry. Men don't cry.

### Me? Cry? Ha! The Old Man certainly wouldn't see of it.

### I take in a deep remorseful breath and shove my memories as far away from me as possible. I know they won't be gone long, but any moments without ones like that, I hold dear. It's funny. All along I had thought I'd reign in Hell instead of rot in it. There's still time though. There's still a lot of fucking time. Yeah, like forever...

### If only they all could see me now, right? I wonder what they'd think of the one time king of high school football, decaying in his own personal Hell. The alpha dog being nothing more than a cowering pup next to much larger monsters. Poor "Mr. Popular" feels lonely. What a freak show.

### I decide not to care. Not today. No one cares in Hell anyway. They don't give two shits about hurt feelings and sadness, all they care about is vengeance for the awful life you lived. I let the waterworks flow freely down my cheeks today. I can almost feel the warmth and wetness as they creep down my face. I am so relieved just to spill the suffocating hurt that swells inside me. It's only an imaginary relief, but one in which I welcome greatly.

### The cracked metallic mirror that stands before me reflects quite clearly the evil monstrosity that dwells inside my heart, even through the tear filled vision I see his wicked grin glimmering back at me.

### He has no horns or scales this time. There are no pointy teeth or jagged claws. There is simply a cold heart and a desolate soul that stares eagerly back at my crying form, laughing at my weakness. I know he is biding his time to devour what's left of my pitiful excuse for humanity as I simply continue to cry.

### I'm so sorry, Jo. I am so damned sorry...

## 7

### "Yo, John John! Wait up!"

### I flagged Big John down in the hall before math. This kid had to be my best efforts at passing Mrs. McGrew's class, and I needed to make sure he was on board. Math was a useless piece of dung in my book. Isn't that why we hire accountants? Unfortunately, I needed this crap class to keep playing football, and Mrs. McCrotch was a total cockblock when it came to having a little "help". She wasn't like most of the other teachers I dealt with. Bitch needed to learn her role.

Johnny was kind of new to how things worked around here though, but I could tell he was ready for the real deal. He had better be. Being one of my main men wasn't an easy job, but it had its perks. Besides, anything had to be better than living in Losertown with him. I was still overwhelmed with the idea that Big John was now my bitch instead of his.

Suck on that, Carter, I laughed to myself as I approached his old friend.

### John stood eye to eye with me when I caught up to him. He was probably the only kid in school that was able to do that. I must say, I'm sure glad this cat and mouse game we had played for so many years was finally over. It was getting rather difficult distinguishing who was the cat and who was the mouse. To be honest, not that I'd ever tell anyone this, but I was beginning to actually fear this monstrosity. Nearly pissed myself last year in study hall when he came after me. I was just having a little fun, but back then, fun to Johnny didn't include picking on Carter. But that was then.

### He peered at me with his mistrustful eyes, nervous as a whore in church as I handed him my homework sheet. He looked over his shoulder and down the empty hallway at least a dozen times before slowly and shakily taking my paper. His eyes never disowning their uncertainty.

"This isn't a drug deal for Christ sakes. What are you so scared of, Johnny?" I asked, annoyed at his cowardly behavior. Did this kid not know who the hell I was?

### "I'm not scared," he said angrily through the slight stutter in his voice, gripping the paper tighter in his mammoth sized hands as he glared back at me. His gaze growing hard as a brief power struggle erupted between us. Tension was still thick in this new relationship, making things more than a little uneasy. Years of being on opposites sides of the playground weren't going to be erased overnight.

### Luckily, John gave in first, obviously not used to being the bully. Yet. He stormed through the door in quiet aggravation, not looking back. I was beginning to feel quite optimistic about our little arrangement despite Big John's hesitation. I kept convincing myself that he'd fall in line, just like the rest of them. He may be a big guy, be he wasn't top dog material. No mutiny on the bounty here.

### "Have that back to me by fourth period!" I bellowed after him, a triumphant smirk creeping across my face.

It feels good to be the king, I thought, smiling.

### With a quick turn, I danced and sidled down the hallway. I do think Big John is going to work out just fine with me. Oh yes, just fine. I couldn't help but smile.

### I whistled out loud while bounding, chest out, head held high, full on peacock style down the sleek hallway. Triumph often left me in a dancing mood. As I sauntered, Carrie Jacobs popped out from the chemistry lab. My smile grew even wider as I grabbed her around the waist, spinning her around to dance with me.

### Her expression quickly grew from surprise to slight terror as she realized it was me. I may be the king, but bad boys aren't exactly liked by everyone. Reputations sometimes proceed themselves in the most inconvenient ways. However, I was more than versed when it came to playing that game.

### "Oh, Sweetie, don't be shy! It's just little 'ol me," I laughed, drowning her in my best fake southern charm, giving her a slight wink while I squeezed tighter. She smiled hesitantly, her cheeks now flush. I kept smiling, eye contact locked and loaded. A few seconds passed before she gave in and began twirling with me. Pretending to be the knight in shining armor was often more work than it was worth, but I decided to take my chances.

### "You like poetry?"

### She nodded innocently, batting her eyelashes, only too eager to fall under my spell.

### "How's this one? Roses are red, violets are blue. I've seen a lot of girls, but none as pretty as you," I spewed out the words while forcing back the urge to bust up laughing. I still can't believe how easy girls eat this shit up!

### We pranced around as she giggled and blushed. All it would take now was a smooth move and a coy smile. I leaned down and whispered softly in her ear, making her cheeks flame wildly. A giddy smirk now spread across her face as she nodded in agreement.

Too easy, I laughed to myself.

## 8

### Some girls took a lot of strategy and planning to lure into my web. Some were just ignorant, thinking fairy tales were real, and walked in willingly. But in the end, all girls were easy to get with the right moves, and a lot of influence. All but Jo.

### What the hell was wrong with her? Why didn't she like me? Everything I tried, she denied. I poured out my best just for her, and she drop kicked my bleeding heart right into the maggot filled dumpster in the hollow of my broken soul and walked away smiling.

At first, I had thought maybe it was because of the previous entourage of girls I had surrounded myself with. Joanna wasn't the type of girl to encroach on anyone's territory, but I wish she would have seen that I couldn't care less about the others. They weren't my end goal. But her, she was going to be mine. Mine since the day we met in Miss Gem's 2nd grade class. Her family had just moved to town. A bit shy and quiet, but the prettiest girl I had ever seen. I knew, even back then, I would marry that girl some day.

Things do change, don't they? I almost couldn't stomach the fact that she was with him. He ruined the whole damn thing the day I found out about them. My own flesh and blood, how could she? She didn't know about Carter and I, but she knew how I felt. She knew I was only holding out just for her, but she betrayed me.

### *

### The shock on his face was absolutely priceless. He looked like he was about to vomit right there on the squeaky clean floor in front of me. Wouldn't be the first time I'd seen it happen. I snickered to myself in memory.

I swear to God, you little shit, if you throw up on my boots this time I will smear your face in it, I cussed him out in my head.

### To be quite honest I was slightly surprised he hadn't known sooner. I know his mom is not exactly the talkative type when it came to dirty little secrets, unlike my father, and of course they made over exaggerated efforts to hate each other in public so they wouldn't be suspected behind closed doors. However, contrary to popular belief, our parents certainly were getting quite cozy again and far less discreet than before. I keep finding the Old Man's little "notes" left absentmindedly around the house. He doesn't even try to hide them from Mom anymore. Not like she'd notice anyway. I wondered how Einstein here didn't notice either. Maybe he's not as smart as he thinks he is.

### I soaked up his pain like a gummy bear in vodka. It was absolutely delicious. Call me a monster, but I enjoyed watching this little weasel suffer. Oh, his face! His ignorant little face, so cartoonish in his anguish. Almost made me laugh out loud.

### I wondered just what he thought was going to come of his little "confession" anyway. What did he expect to happen? That we would suddenly become best buddies and meet up for lunch? That I would drop to my feet and beg for forgiveness for treating him like the dirt he was? Ha! This kid was more of a fucking joke than I thought.

### I leaned in closer, ready to bring down the reality hammer on this little nerd dream, "Harvey, you're a piece of shit. I don't know what you thought was going to happen, but you're wrong no matter what it is. I hate you. I hate your whore of a mother. So does my father."

There was no way in hell I was telling him that my father's little love notes were filled with plans to leave Mom and I after graduation, or that he sneaks out to the garage and talks to that whore all the damn time on the phone. He even rented a frickin cabin on the lake somewhere up north under a fake name. No, Harvey was never going to find out the truth. At least not from me.

### I watched him sulk in rejection for several moments, satisfied with myself and about to leave him in his own disgusting pity, until a devious and half-crazy smile spread across his face. I wrote it off at first, shock can do strange things to a person's psyche, but his goofy grin kept growing.

I just ripped your dreams in half and you're smiling? I wonder what you'd do if I told you the gym teacher fucked your dog? Break dance? What the hell is he smiling about?! I wondered.

### Harvey kept on smiling. He just wouldn't stop. Cold shivers danced across my arm, for more reasons than the crisp fall breeze. I felt a creepy uneasiness slither up my spine and settle deep in my chest, coiled to strike.

"Well, JJ. I don't really care what you think. Or your shitty dad. All I know, is that Joanna thinks I'm a pretty good guy. Oh, that's right, she turned you down, didn't she? Man, that had to have hurt being rejected like that and all. Can't say she's ever said 'no' to me though."

### He took in a long, slow, deep breath and came a little closer, his eyes almost wild now. I felt my confidence begin to chip and crack, leaving razor sharp spiderweb fractures in its wake.

### An air of smugness engulfed Harvey like I had never seen before, "She smells just like butterflies and lavender. So intoxicating. And I can't even begin to describe how delightful her cherry lip gloss tastes."

### He shot me one more maniacal grin and bounced away, the skip in his step doing nothing more than pissing off my already crumbling mood. The impending snake of fear that coiled itself around my ego began to slowly squeeze and constrict. My suffocating heart sunk deep in my chest and filled with hot fire. Boiling blood surged through my veins, fueling my already volatile rage. I swallowed hard and waited for his scrawny little body to turn the corner. I couldn't stand to look at that bastard another second. I couldn't let him see that he had hurt me. Harvey Carter had actually gotten the best of me for once. I honestly couldn't quite believe it myself.

Didn't know you had it in you, Harv. I whispered to my broken ego.

### Thump thump. Thump thump. My crushed heart still beat with its out of whack rhythm as I tried to control the impending break down.

### I wasn't sure whether to feel pain, sorrow, anger, or betrayal. Countless emotions bounced back and forth in my mind, ping ponging which way direction my reaction would go. I flip flopped from hating him to envying him every few seconds. Confusion broke out all across my soul, or at least what was left of it. I wanted to slap Jo and kiss her at the same time. Why did she do this? Why did she let him do this? The thin thread that was holding myself together was ready to snap at the thought.

"Aaaagh! You Bitch!" I growled harshly, reaching my fist back and ramming it hard against the closest unsuspecting locker. The agonizing crunch of bone, ligaments, and stretching skin boomed in my ears as I pushed my hand farther through the blood red metal door of locker 243. I didn't know who it belonged to, nor did I care. At least the blood stain matched the paint, but I instantly regretted how I was going to explain this to the Old Man and my coach. If he still let me onto the field, I guess, after failing Mr. Ryan's stupid history test. Thanks again for that one, Carter, you asshole!

### My hand immediately started to swell and change color. The mixture of dark pink and speckles of eggplant purple now circling my ever diminishing knuckles. The anger that boiled inside me overpowered any physical pain I might have felt at this point. I couldn't tell if it was my rage or the thick swig of not-so-cheap whiskey I had hidden under the seat of my car that brought light to my next thought.

So, Jo, that's why you deny me, huh? For this little fuck?!

You told me you wanted a real man. That's what you call a real man?

### I'll show you.

### I'll show you what a real man looks like.

### I'll show that little shit too. He will never...have you...again...

## 9

### The dark image that angrily glares back at me through the looking glass is such a horrific monster that I shake and shudder at my own grim reflection.

### That damn mirror is always in front of me. Watching me. Reminding me of what truly lies in my soul. Stationary and stoic. It cannot be moved or broken. Believe me, I've tried. I find such ridiculous irony in that my punishment in Hell be a mirror. I can't even tell you how long I used to admire myself in every looking glass back in the day. Every mirror was my lover. There wasn't a single reflective glance that I passed up seeing my good looking self. Damn, I used to one handsome S.O.B. Used to be, anyway.

### I guess beauty really is only skin deep.

### Reality takes a harsh bite out of my piece of happy remembrance pie. Bit by bit my new face creeps its way to the surface. At least I think it's a new face, but something tells me this ugliness has always lurked under my skin. Soon, I'm barely recognizable as a person as I stare into this hellish reflection. Good looks and charm are hard to see through leathery skin and empty demonic eyes. Darkness has a way of clouding any form of decency. As if I actually had any to begin with.

### My hand reaches up involuntarily in frightful slow motion to my face. The tips of my fingernails now digging and ripping roughly into the depths of my flesh, pulling away its surface in one sickeningly smooth movement. The thin layer of my clean cut skin dangles from the edges of my fingers. My once thick, coal black hair flutters to the ground, giving way to hard scaly skin stretched harshly over a now deformed skull. There is no twinkle left in my eye, no coyness to my smile. The sharpness of blinding pain tears through my being, and I choke back the urge to cry out. Even in Hell I constantly struggle to swallow my pride.

### I gaze as my once handsome face disappears into an otherworldly creature. Blood oozes from the deep hole punched through the center of my forehead, spilling to the corners of my eye sockets, forcing me to cry my own blood. It is dark and sticky, much like my heart. I press a single boney finger into the vast puncture wound until it disappears into the depth of the circular hole, fingering my brain. That black tunnel forever a memento of my long dead brother. It was the last and only gift Harvey ever gave to me. Too bad some gifts are non-refundable.

### I keep staring, hoping to wake up. Hoping I'm just fucked up in the head, locked in a padded room, and given the best drugs the government can buy. Three hots and a cot beats this shit any day. Maybe I should have been the one who showed up with a gun.

### My eyes refuse to tear away from the dirty mirror with the grim reaper face snarling back at me, his annoyingly smug grin beaming brightly. I'm not sure whether to feel honored or be completely afraid.

### "How does it feel to see beneath the surface, Jacky?"

### It frightens my very core to know that boogymen are real, and that I am becoming one of them.

## 10

### I want to change. I really do. Scout's honor even.

"I can do that, right? You'll let me change, won't you?" I ask into the darkness, but I already know the answer before the question seeps through my mind. There is no changing in Hell. At least not for the better. You might think you somehow become the good guy, but the Devil knows you're not.

### "Why can't you people let me change?!" I call out in frustration.

### Wait. People? No, that's not right.

### I forget, you are not people. You're torturers. Destroyers of souls. You are the wardens of my own private prison. In this prison, there is no rehabilitation. God can't save me here. I can't change. I don't even know if I want to. At least no one is pretending to give a crap about me in Hell. They don't pretend around here, they truly just don't give a shit.

### I never thought all the time I was alive that this place was ever real. I went to church and all, but I mean, who actually believes this kind of shit exists?! I had always thought stories of fire and brimstone were just tall tales told to kids to keep them in line and out of trouble. Maybe had I known it was all true, I wouldn't have done half the things I did back then. Maybe I wouldn't have hurt so many people had I known I would spend my eternity gazing beneath the surface of my own manipulation. Maybe I would have even eaten my damn vegetables.

### I've had enough of my own peep show for now and resort to looking at the dirty mud covered boots on my feet. They used to be so shiny and polished. I used to keep them secured in a nice little box in my closet, clean and untouched from the rest of the world. Strange that I used to take such drastic care of something that was so meaningless. I treated my shoes better than my friends. If you could call them friends, I guess. Again, means to an end, that's all they really were. Just means to an end.

I stare at those ugly dirty shoes that never stay clean and think I shouldn't be here. Not think, know. I know I shouldn't be here. I don't deserve this shit. He deserves this, not me! I didn't kill anybody, he did. He did this to me! And yet, here I rot!

I fucking hate you, Harvey Carter. I hope you burn in Hell with me.

### No, I hope it's worse. What's worse than Hell?

## 11

### Some days I just want to cry and puke at the same time. Not a pretty site nor an admirable act, but there was such a heavy weight of uneasy burden crushing at my chest that I'm left feeling suffocated and hopeless. It comes on fast and sudden, washing out every other emotion.

### I constantly feel so utterly alone, even when surrounded by the people who called themselves my "friends" only to appease my temperamental ego. They weren't my friends. I used them to get the things I want, and they stuck with me to be left alone. The world's most fucked up quid pro quo. Only Mike was the exception. He was the only one I could completely count on. I was quite sure he'd jump off the London Bridge if I told him to. Natural born follower if I ever saw one. Yet, even his friendship just wasn't enough these days.

### Nothing was good enough anymore. Football was a sham. Sex was meaningless. Booze was tasteless. And the Old Man was fucking around on Ma. Boy would we make a great sitcom! I desperately needed something more out of life, and soon, or I was going to snap.

### I took in a long deep breath as my heart began to pound faster.

### Thump thump.

### Thump thump. Thump thump.

### Thump thump thump. Thump thump thump.

### The deep thrumming of blood ferociously racing through my veins echoed loudly in my ears. The pounding was deafening. I knew the cold sweat would be coming on soon, and I wasn't sure how many more times I could take this happening. It was getting so much more frequent, and the little green happy pills weren't kicking in today like usual. I closed my eyes and tried to block out the invading thoughts and force them back into their cage.

I should just shoot myself and get it over with, I thought resentfully. The Old Man always kept a loaded handgun in his "office" that would be easy enough to sneak out without him noticing. He said it was for security reasons. Yeah, sure.

Deep breath, Jack. Deep breath. But my body didn't seem to register any air seeping through my clouded lungs. I already felt so dead inside that it seemed way to easy to just quit breathing and let it all disappear. Poof! Gone. Bye, bye, Jacky.

### I'm sure my funeral would be a grand event with the entire town in attendance, no doubt. High school football heroes always get the best eulogies. Of course, there wouldn't be a dry eye in the house either. Each attendee filled with overly dramatic sobbing faces and bullshit tears of remorse. Everyone pretending they cared. Everyone pretending to be sad, knowing full well they were overjoyed at my absence. Hell, they'd all probably break out into song and dance before I even had a chance to rot in the ground.

### Ding dong, the Dick is dead.

"You people don't give a rat's ass what happens to me," I muttered under my breath watching the array of "friends" living it up on the school's front lawn, a trickle of sweat slithering down my temple. Why aren't these goddamn pills working?!

### The puny, pathetic little sheep down below just kept on playing their merry little games while I prayed for my heart to stop racing, it's pounding causing a symphony of anguish in my head. I tried thinking about all the grotesque things I could make each one of them do at my amusement in efforts to distract the ever growing negativity that clouded my mind. I wasn't sure if picturing them as my personal flying monkeys excited me or saddened me. Either way, I wasn't exactly proud of the feeling.

### I wasn't proud of a lot of things these days. Especially after what I did last month that started all of this. Who knew succumbing to your innermost dark desires would create a barrage of self hatred panic attacks? Jesus, I still can't believe I actually did it. What I'm having a harder time dealing with is that I really want to do it again. And again.

### Genna won't even look at me anymore. When she sees me walk down the hall, she practically runs in the other direction. I guess I shouldn't be mad, but it pisses me off something fierce that she won't even acknowledge me.

Look at me, Bitch, is all I want to scream when I see her feathery brown hair wafting through the crowd.

I just want some kind of acknowledgment, to know we are still on the same page. That night, when it was done, my first thought was that she would tell and I'd be in trouble. That was my first thought. That was what I cared about more. Not her. The fear that she may talk still swims in the pit of my stomach every time our eyes lock for even the slightest second, and I see the quiver of fear drape across her face. That little bitch could ruin everything for me if she wanted to.

What is wrong with me? I keep wondering.

### I was almost becoming afraid of the answer. I feared what the Old Man would do to me if he ever found out what I did. I was sure he'd beat the hell out of me for one, and two, he'd make sure no one else ever knew about it.

### Through all of our down and outs we had, that was always one thing I could count on. The Old Man had my back, and he always took care of business. I hated to say it, but I knew after high school, I would never live up to his standards, even as shitty as they were.

### "Fuck it," I whispered under my breath. I was doing this. Tonight even. My mom had enough pills to kill a herd of elephants if the gun failed to perform.

### "Always have a back-up plan". Thanks, Coach.

I could feel my face scrunch into a scowl as I watched my "friends" laughing. Laugh it up, Bitches. After tomorrow, at least you'll have something to laugh about.

### "Why the long face?" a soft voice suddenly broke through my anger, startling me. I turned quickly, my lumbering arm knocking a stack of textbooks to the ground with several hard thuds.

### Joanna Fairley scrambled to pick up her scattered books and papers as I stood, frozen at my own stupidity. I wasn't used to being so clumsy. It took several long seconds before my brain even registered to help her.

### "I'm sorry, Jo," I confessed as I handed her the one heavy chemistry book I managed to recover. I forced a smile through my embarrassment. My heart beginning to thump thump once again in my chest. It always did around her anyway, but the previous panic attack made it difficult to breathe even more so.

### She stopped short as I handed her the book. Her amber colored eyes stared at me with such disbelief that I became self conscious for one of the few times in my life. I could tell she was thinking heavily about our encounter, but whether it was good or bad was hard to tell. You never know what some chicks are thinking. She opened her mouth to speak, but waited several moments before uttering any sounds. The awkwardness of the situation was not something I was used to. It made me want to hide.

### "Did you just say what I think you said?" she asked slowly, unsure of the question herself.

I was slightly taken aback. What did I say? Was it something stupid? I don't remember saying anything other than....

### Then it hit me. I hadn't exactly realized that I don't say sorry enough for people to not think it uncommon. All of my usual charms seemed to evade me as I was at a loss for words.

### I had really lost my shit over this Genna thing, and of all the girls to talk to, having it be Jo was almost overbearing. I just nodded quietly instead, almost afraid to look Joanna in the eye. She suddenly seemed too good for me. All the years of daydreaming my life with her after high school became ignorant and childish. I had never felt so small and insignificant as I did just now.

### Joanna peered from side to side, as if looking for witnesses to this special occasion. She looked back me, her gaze softer than before, and smiled. She actually smiled at me.

### "A little humility can do a person some good, you know. Chivalry looks good on you, JJ. You should try it more often," her soft cheeks blushing as she turned to leave.

### My heart skipped nervously, thankfully in a good way. I wasn't sure if I wanted to smile or cry at her honesty. I settled for an embarrassed chuckle and a chagrined grin. My heart wouldn't stop pounding, my palms were clammy, and my entire body seemed to be stuck in that moment until she was completely out of sight, leaving the vision of her smiling face tucked securely into my brain. I knew this time it wasn't the anxiety kicking in.

### I felt completely and utterly stupid, but triumphant at the same time. She smiled at me. I did something shamefully loser-like, and she smiled at me!

### My bumbling idiocy aside, I felt on top of the world just now. New found vigor surged through my body, fanning the flames of my smoldering confidence.

### I never was a very religious man, and I haven't been to church nearly enough lately, but I honest to God do believe in miracles.

### No gun.

### No pills.

### No funeral.

### No fake ass tears.

### No dances for you, Assholes.

### Now, there's only Jo Jo.

## 12

### I was so sure I loved her. So sure she was my destiny. In those short minutes in front of the school, this beautiful angel changed everything. Who knows what would have happened if she hadn't shown up right then, at that moment in time. She saved my life. I had always been convinced it was a sign that we were meant to be. Soul mates, and all.

### Yet, this happened. Why? Why did this happen?

### Since I now reside in Hell, I can only assume that there is a God as well. So, why did he do this? What does he get out of it? Why would he grant me such a creature and then hand her to someone else?! It's like dangling a lollipop in front of a wealthy child, but letting the diseased orphans lick it first. Cruel Bastard.

### It was common knowledge that I had had a crush on Joanna Fairley since the day we met, but after that chance encounter, it wasn't long before I became more than slightly obsessed with everything she did. I wanted to know everywhere she went and everyone she talked to, my heart already claiming her as my own property. This was the first time in my life that I had thought more about someone other than myself. She was always on my mind, no matter what I did I just couldn't shake her. She invaded my every thought, every dream, every spare second my mind had to offer. Each nerve in my body screamed to touch her whenever I thought of her creamy skin, which was practically all the time. I was never sure how to control myself around her. Should I play coy and wait for her to come to me? Should I go full boar and just lay it out there? I felt so stupid around her. My fingers fidgeted and my stomach fluttered with drunk butterflies. Every day I stared at the one thing I wanted most in the world but couldn't have. This was something my daddy couldn't fix. I had to have her though, there was just no other way.

### *

### I couldn't take my eyes off her soft silhouette in the far corner. I never understood why such a pretty girl always preferred to sit in the back of the class. Her hair was tucked delicately behind her ear, long and silky. My fingers trembled at the thought of stroking those golden locks.

Talk to her, you idiot! I yelled at myself as the teacher left the room, leaving me open to strike up a conversation.

Granted we were not exactly alone in a room full of classmates, but since this was the only class I had with her, it was my only opportunity. I was pretty sure there would be no objections to me moving seats. These lackies would do just about anything I said. Well, all except him, and he doesn't count. It was now or never.

### I licked my lips absentmindedly as she chewed on the edge of her pencil, the worn pink eraser tracing the edge of her mouth so seductively that it made my insides boil. I got up out of my front row seat and sauntered to the back of the room. My eyes fixed hungrily on the rise and fall of her chest, barely noticeable through her tightly knit green sweater. She never looked up as I plopped myself in the empty desk beside her.

### "Hey, Jo Jo," I said softly and as innocently as my nerves would allow.

### Her gaze stayed transfixed on the stack of loose papers spread out across her desk, but I did not digress. Women were my forte, after all.

### I let out a long thoughtful sigh as I reached out my hand, removing the pencil from her grip. I held it tight in my fingers, so intoxicated by holding something of hers that I almost lost focus. She looked up from her busy work, slightly aggravated, but not overly annoyed. She was out of my reach, but I kept pushing forward.

### "Jo Jo, your eyes are as sweet as summertime honey, but a girl like you probably already knows that, right?" I grinned sweetly.

### "What do you want, JJ?" she asked cautiously. I could tell despite our encounter on the front lawn before, she was still unsure of me. I tried to think fast as to how to break through this wall, but came up short. I regressed back to old tried and true methods, thinking perhaps with a little more force she'll just melt like the others.

### "Just time with you, Baby. Isn't that what any self-respecting man would want? Time with the most beautiful girl in the room?" I gave her my best come hither look as the same old bullshit rolled smoothly off my tongue.

### She leaned in close to me, her coconut shampoo swirling around my head, leaving me utterly breathless.

### "Your crappy pick up lines don't work on every girl. Especially not this one," she said bluntly. I wasn't surprised, somehow, I knew it would take more effort to gain her trust than it had for the cheap wannabe's I was used to dealing with.

### "Pick up lines? Why, Joanna Fairley, I am deeply offended. I want nothing more than to spend a little time with you," I declared, placing an exaggerated hand over my heart, "Scout's honor," I winked.

### She huffed loudly and rolled her eyes. Damn, this really wasn't easy.

### "You and me, Babe. Two against the world. Come on, what do you say? We were made for each other," I winked again, smoothing back my hair, trying to keep my nerves in check as I blew her a kiss. I eased back in the chair of my new found seat and prayed something would click in her as it did in me. I needed some kind of sign before I lost my mind. I watched her cover her mouth, and was sure she was hiding a smile. Maybe this egg was beginning to crack! My heart was leaping as she leaned even closer to me, dangerously close.

### A warm smile spread across her face as she started to speak, " Dear, sweet JJ," she began.

This is it, I told myself with intense excitement. I was beginning to think I was going crazy.

### "Although I'm sure you are just the highlight of some other bimbos lives, you are not, nor will you ever be mine. I suggest you take your weak ass swagger somewhere else. I hear the girls you usually date are willing to accept credit cards these days. Maybe Daddy can buy you a new girlfriend. Although, it might cost you extra to include that big ego of yours," she finished her speech with an arrogant smile.

I was more than taken aback by this hurtful declaration. She hadn't even given me a chance before throwing me under the bus. Who the fuck did she think she was? Here I am pouring my best out to her and she scoffs at it like she's better than me!

### You are not better than me!

My heart grew desperate and angry. Deep impenetrable rage bubbled and raced down to the tips of my fingers, forcing them to curl and snarl into tight fists. I stood up without thinking and grabbed the edges of her desk, clenching the fake wood angrily in my hands, envisioning them encompassed around her throat. My eyes bore into hers, searching for some kind of explanation. Was she serious? I started to wonder if the girl who had saved my life had actually meant to. What a fucking bitch! Trust me Jo Jo, I could find a hundred women like you, better than you even, who would gladly grovel at my feet and lick my toes for a chance to be with me.

### We locked eyes for several moments. Fire seemed to ignite and erupt within her as well, her cheeks blazing hot. The room got quiet around us and I could hear her heart thump wildly. I suddenly wondered if she preferred a challenge over just being lusted after. Some girls were bitches, that was a given, some girls liked to be controlled and told what to do, and some just liked the thrill of the fight. I was beginning to think I knew which category Joanna fell into. It all made sense now.

### My resentment faded, and my hands slowly started to detach themselves from her desk. In one smooth motion, I reached up to stroke her flushed cheek.

### She met my advance with an icy stare, not backing down. Fueled earlier by the blatant disrespect of her brashness, I returned her glare, but now I was understanding she simply liked a little pain with her pleasure.

### "Ah, Jo Jo, you'll come around," I said reassuringly. I gave her a knowing smile and winked before returning to my seat. My heart more than skipping a tap dance of excitement in my chest. The teacher returned only seconds later, squashing any chance of more foreplay. I stole a glance back at Joanna, barely hearing the teacher's announcements about next week's test. What did I care anyway? Mike was taking care of that one for me.

### I watched Joanna's delicate body tremble through her green sweater, wondering anxiously if she was thinking of me as she hugged herself. I licked my lips again at the thought of tasting the sweetness of her skin through that shudder. I could hardly contain my smile.

### I told you, Jo, we were meant to be.

## 13

### "Hahahaha!!!" I laugh hysterically squeezing and tearing at the sides of my head, trying to swallow the thick disgust stuck deep in my throat as I catch a glimpse at my seemingly normal reflection.

### "I sure showed that bitch, huh?!" I scream and laugh again into the dark foggy air around me, getting no response other than my own cackling.

### What a fool I actually was.

### From this point I can't decide whether to keep howling like a hyena until I cease to exist or swallow these candy ass feelings and embrace the demon.

Who am I kidding? I want this shit to happen. I want to relive all of it, each and every horrid memory. I want to feel pain. I want to feel something! I want to feel on top again. I want to be the fucking King of the World!

### I am the king.

### No one is equal to me.

### No one.

### Jo Jo could have been....

### "Fuck you, Bitch," I murmur under my breath as my insides float on a sea of self satisfaction, covering up any and all shame that dared to surface.

### Let's face it, sometimes I am the bad guy. A damn good one, too. I just have to own up to the fact that I like it.

## 14

### "It smells like nerds in here."

### "That's what intelligence smells like. I'm not surprised it's foreign to you."

Mike and I both turned to see him standing behind the large wooden desk. My stomach churned at the thought of having to see his cocky little face after yesterday's encounter. I sucked in a large breath of air. He was not better than me!

### "Carter, you..," Mike started forward, fist ready. I grabbed his arm, shaking my head that this was not the time nor the place.

### "What the hell are you doing here?" I growled.

### "I could ask you the same question, but I just assume you got lost. Daddy's GPS not working? I think the strip club is on the other side of town. This is the library. I work here," he snapped back.

### My lips tightened into a thin angry line, my teeth grinding furiously against themselves as I tried to keep my cool.

### "Ballsy, Carter. You a fucking comedian now? I'd love to see how funny you are when I'm kicking your teeth in," I snarled, stepping closer.

"Keep your cool, Conan. This is a quiet zone," he smirked, pointing to a faded cardboard sign with a thick red line through the word "noise". My face flushed as I realized the other know-it-alls were beginning to stare at the sudden interruption of their silence. I swallowed my anger and my pride for the second time in the last twenty four hours and seceded. This is beginning to become a trend, I thought shamefully. I couldn't let this happen much longer. This little dickhead needed to be put back in his place, and soon.

### "What do you want, JJ?" he asked, trying to bring back the status quo of library calm. My mind was so full of hatred that I nearly forgot why we came into this vault of losers.

### "I need a book," I answered shortly.

### "Well, you've come to the right place," he responded, making an exaggerated effort to be professional. I could see a small bead of sweat roll down the side of his face as he came out from behind the counter. He appeared nervous and shaky, but willing to fight if need be. I wondered how deep this sudden boost of confidence ran.

I guess if I had her I'd be on top of the world too, I thought sadly as I watched him.

### "What kind of book are you looking for?"

### "Umm, one of those play things. Romeo and Juliet," I said quietly, almost ashamed.

### He stared quizzically back, no doubt wondering if I could even read such a thing, but said nothing. He pointed to the right without a word and ushered me to the Shakespeare section.

### "Bottom row to the left," he said matter of factly and walked back to the front desk. I was thankful for his composure. I peered down at several copies of all sizes and shapes, but resulted in grabbing the first one, not seeing what the difference could possibly be. It was an old, tattered, red copy, picture free and void of anything appealing. I had a hard time believing anyone could have picked this up and thought, "Hey, this looks like a good read!".

### "You really think that'll work?" Mike whispered after Harvey was out of earshot.

### I shook my head, "I don't know, Man," I confided. I almost wished Mike knew the extent of my desperation. This had to work. I was running out of options, especially now.

## 15

### I ripped off my mud covered boot and chucked it hard at the dirty mirror. It rocketed through the air, smashing the glass, sending millions of sparkling chunks of gleaming gems all around in slow motion. For a split second, it rained razor shards of crystal droplets.

### In a flash, my shoe was back on my aching foot, and the mirror, once again whole, shining menacingly back at me. The mirror remained unbroken, but my soul gained another hairline fracture. This wasn't the first time I had attempted to free myself from the looking glass.

### I don't know why I keep trying. I know it won't break. I'll break before it does. That's the point, right? To break me for the bad things I've done.

"Go ahead and break me, Bitches."

### Jokes on them. There's not much left to break.

## 16

You wouldn't know it to see how I turned out, but I had a pretty happy childhood. My parents were great when I was a kid. We went on vacations, had family picnics at the park, camping, and movie nights in the living room. The perfect little family. Then one night, it all came undone. Things were still good for the most part, but Ma never looked at Dad the same. I never looked at him the same either.

### *

"I found this in the bottom of your sock drawer," Mom said angrily, throwing a folded piece of paper directly in Dad's face.

### He clumsily caught it, instantly blanching at the contents in his hand. He stared at the paper for a long time before looking up to meet my mom's enraged face. Her eyes were daggers as they bore into him.

### "You had better answer me, Jackson!"

### I had never seen anyone, especially my quiet mother, speak to my dad in that way. I couldn't believe he was actually letting her yell at him like that. I tucked myself farther down against the railing of the stairs, suddenly frightened that she would see me. My mom had never laid a hand on me, but I didn't want to have her start by catching me eavesdropping. I clutched my brown bear tighter to my chest, closing my eyes, and praying I wouldn't be found. I thought at first to run back to my room and hide under the covers, but my curiosity kept me glued to the unfolding scene. So this is what it was like to have parents who fought?

### Dad's mouth went dry as he looked for the words to say to Ma. Her hands began to ball into tight little fists, her shiny polished fingernails digging furiously into the palms. I could see the faintest tear begin to fall down her flushed cheek. Dad looked shameful as he finally opened his mouth to speak.

### "I'm sorry, Sarah. I don't know what else to say. I made mistakes. It's in the past, and has been for a long time. Please, Sarah, please forgive me. You have to understand," he begged. I almost waited for him to drop to his knees at her feet, but he remained standing.

### Mom's eyes softened briefly as she stepped forward, stretching out her hand to stroke his stark white cheek, but reached back and slapped him hard across the face instead. The sharp stinging sound echoed through the living room, ringing in my ears while I hid up the stairs. I sucked in a gasp, disbelieving what was happening in front of me. I quickly clasped my hands over my mouth, my heart pounding loudly, sure I would be found. No one stirred. No one moved for the longest ten seconds I had ever experienced.

### "You bastard," Mom said coldly, breaking the silence as she shoved her pink swollen hand into the pocket of her jeans.

### Dad raised his shaking hand up to the side of his reddened cheek. I was scared that he would hit her back after that, but he made no attempt to retaliate.

What did you do, Dad?! I wanted to scream, but held back. Mom wasn't done with him yet.

### "So, all this time you two acted like enemies, like you hated her, when you really had the wool over everyone's eyes. Are you still seeing her? Do you still love her, Jackson?! Who else knows about this? Does the whole damn town know what a fool I am?" she cried out, the tears streaming faster with each rise of her voice.

### Dad remained silent.

### "I guess I'm the big joke around here now, huh? I bet everyone goes around saying, 'Oh look, there's the cheater's wife! Wonder how stupid she is to not know?!'," she released her hand and slapped him again, harder this time, flinching from the pain. The sharp snap of skin on skin repeating over and over again in my head.

"How could you keep this from me? From us! What the hell were you thinking? They're in the same damn class for God's sake, Jackson! What if he had said something to JJ?!" she screamed pointing toward the staircase. Towards me. I panicked, Does she know I'm here?!

### Dad stood still, head down. He looked painfully belittled and sad. My heart pitied him.

### "No one else knows. The kid doesn't even know as far as I'm aware. Trina never even told her parents," Dad replied quietly, lowering his gaze.

Mom looked shocked, almost sad. Who doesn't know what? What kid is he talking about? I wondered feverishly, hoping Dad would spill his beans. I began firing off in my head the names of all the kids in my class trying to pinpoint who it might be.

### "I don't have anything to do with them, I swear. I haven't even talked to her since she was pregnant. I chose you, Sarah. You and Jacky. Doesn't that count?"

### Mom thought for a long time before answering, "Does it count to them?" was all she said bluntly and walked out of the room.

## 17

### That moment changed how I saw the world. Of course, Mom knew I was at the staircase that night. She always knew. They sat me down the next day and explained how we all make mistakes in life, and how sometimes we have to take responsibility for our actions by doing the right thing even when we don't want to.

### Blah blah blah. What happy horse shit.

### All I got out of that discussion was that Harvey fucking Carter was my brother because the Old Man couldn't keep it in his pants in high school. I wasn't his only son. I wasn't his number one anymore. I would have to share his heart forever with a skinny, nothing, geek, loser.

### That new knowledge tore a hole in my heart that only refilled with hatred. I hated Harvey Carter from that moment on. I hated that he was a part of me. Worse yet was that I couldn't tell anyone or family's dirty secret. Not like I'd actually want to admit it, but no one could ever know he was my brother. No one.

### Turns out that was a lie too.

### *

### Pop Pop walked into the front entryway without knocking as usual. Having built this house years ago he just assumed it still belonged to him. I hopped down the stairs and met him as he began to walk through to the kitchen where Dad was reading the paper.

### "Hey, Pop Pop!" I said eagerly. I loved having my grandpa over. He was tough and took no one's crap. I wanted to be just like him. Plus, he always brought me caramels.

### "Hiya, Jacky. Dad home?" he asked already knowing the answer, but being cordial anyway. He may have been a hard ass, but he grew up with manners. Even if he never knocked.

### I pointed toward the kitchen, following closely behind as he dropped two soft caramels into my hand from the confines of his jacket pocket. Dad looked up from his coffee and paper, unimpressed with his father's lack of privacy. His face hardened slightly as he set the newspaper down on the long wooden table. Pop Pop either didn't seem to notice Dad's irritated face, or just didn't care.

### "We need to have a little chat, Son," Pop Pop announced, all sincerity gone from his voice, his own face now hardening.

### Dad nodded for me to leave. I stepped out of the kitchen compliantly acting like I was heading outside, but hovered just far enough away from the door to not be seen.

### "What do you want, Dad?"

### "Bank statement says you're giving money to the whore again," he replied frankly.

My mouth went dry and my insides boiled furiously. Now he was giving them money?! So not only was I being forced to share a blood line with this little turd, but now I had to share my father's hard earned money to support that lazy good for nothing whore. I wasn't exactly sure what a whore was, but if Pop Pop called her that, then so did I.

### "You checking up on me again? I thought we were over that kind of crap. I'm just doing the right thing, Dad."

### "Doing the right thing would have been making that bitch get an abortion," Pop Pop growled.

### I could hear Dad's teeth grind in frustration at Pop Pop's blatant disrespect. It suddenly occurred to me that my grandpa knew about the other kid. I thought Dad said no one else knew? Why did Dad lie to Mom again? Why did he lie to me?

### "Dad, it's been almost ten years. When are you going to give it a rest?"

### Pop Pop slammed his fists on the table hard, rattling and clanking the ceramic coffee cup and saucer, "I'll give it a rest when you get that home-wrecking wench and her little bastard out of your head! I told you back then she was no good. I told you to just cut your ties. Now look! She's got you by the balls for the rest of your life!" he screamed, shaking his fists in Dad's distraught face.

### "I ended it! Just like you wanted! I told you it was over! Why won't you accept that?!" Dad yelled back.

### "I want this shit stopped, Jackson," Pop Pop ordered.

### "I'm not a little boy anymore, Dad, or a naive teenager. You're not going to be able to control me forever," Dad answered angrily.

### "You'll do as I say until I'm six feet under, dammit. Do you understand me, Boy?" Pop Pop hissed back.

### There was a long cold silence that filled the air, broken only by Mom's arrival through the front door. I quickly darted out of my hiding place and into the living room. Thoughts were reeling in my head.

### I desperately wanted to know why Pop Pop hated them so much. Whatever it was made me hate them too. Somewhere deep down inside, I even started to hate Dad at that moment as well.

### *

### My respect for the Old Man faded faster than a boy band after puberty. The realization that he was nothing more than a liar and a cheater made me sick to my stomach. Pop Pop eventually found out that I knew about the other kid and took me under his wing until he died. He replaced my father in a large part of my heart. The Old Man went from being my superman to my archenemy by the time I entered high school. Things were just never the same after those few fateful encounters. No matter how much I wished to go back to the way they used to be, once I knew, it could never be reversed. Maybe that's why I started drinking so much.

## 18

### Coach Gregg sat humped over his desk, head down, nose in an old swimsuit magazine. He looked up expectantly as I entered the musty gray office.

### "Have a seat, JJ," he motioned toward the tattered green leather chair in front of his chipped desk. The cushions were so cracked and pointy that it could have almost been considered a torture device. It seemed fitting since I was in here to get my ass handed to me.

### "Recruiter called again today. Said you were an hour late, and when you finally did show up, you were drunk off your gourd," he stared accusingly at me. I lowered my gaze, more annoyed than ashamed.

Fuck that recruiter, I thought angrily.

### "Yeah, sorry, Coach. It won't happen again," I schmoozed with a slight grin.

### "You're damn right it won't," he thundered back, "They pulled the offer, JJ," he said irritability.

### I went numb for a second. I was sure I didn't hear that right. I even laughed a little at the thought of them actually revoking my scholarship offer.

"What did you say, Coach? I don't think I heard you right," I played dumb, my heart still hoping. Thump thump. Not now!

### He pressed his lips together in a tight scowl, shaking his head, "Boy, you need to get your shit straight, understand? I did all I could to help you, but this time was just too much. I'm sorry," he left it at that and got up to open the dirty metal door.

### Thump thump. I just sat, afraid to move. Afraid this nightmare might actually be real. I felt the all too familiar thump thump banging in the caverns of my chest. My breath became slightly jagged, my palms sweating.

### "Coach, I...," I started.

### "Sorry, JJ," he replied flatly, cutting me off. His thick finger pointing rigidly toward the opened door.

No! This isn't how it's supposed to be! I screamed in my head.

### Thump thump thump.

I play football. I go to college. I get the girl. I get the fuck out of this town!

### I repeated step by step how I had mapped out my entire life after leaving this wretched place. This wasn't right. This wasn't how my story ends.

### Thump thump thump.

### My hand clutched my chest, trying to stop the incessant beating. Coach stood motionless at the door, completely unsympathetic.

### Thump thump thump thump.

### What the fuck is happening?!

### I tried to stand. My vision became a blurred white blob mixed with cartoon style swirling stars. My hands quickly grabbed the edge of the cold metal desk.

### Thump thump thump thump.

I can't take this, I confessed, letting my hands slip from the cool desk, slamming into the concrete floor with a jarring thud. The glimmering white flashes turned into dark black and purple holes as the room disappeared, an ignorant smile painted across my unconscious face.

### Thump. Thump.

### Thump.

### *

### I still hate that fucking game, and that recruiter.

## 19

### "Hey, Seth, how's it hanging?"

### "Short, shriveled, and always to left, Son. Price of old age. How are you?" Seth Fairley gave a slight chuckle as we exchanged our usual banter.

### "Could be better," I admitted out of the blue, surprising even myself. I wasn't sure why, but I needed to say it out loud. Seth looked quizzically back at me, but didn't press further. He gave me a half, "I know what you mean", smile and ushered me into the Old Man's empty work office.

### We stood in uncomfortable silence for a long five minutes. I shoved my hands in my pockets, suddenly unsure of what to do with these things that dangle at my sides. I began to panic at the thought of having an anxiety attack in front of Joanna's father. That thought in itself nearly threw me off a cliff. I could tell Seth was getting a little nervous himself. He rocked absentmindedly back and forth.

### Heel to toe. Heel to toe.

### The smooth rhythmic motion had an alarmingly calm effect to my thrumming head. I watched his feet intently, counting my breaths as his brown leather wingtips buoyed on the linoleum floor.

### "Is...there...anything I can do to help?" Seth suddenly asked, breaking the silence and my concentration with jackhammer force, scaring the piss right out of me. My tension quickly eased seeing the sincerity in his eyes. I wasn't sure what to say.

Make your daughter date me, wasn't exactly easy to spew out, but that was all I could think to say. I frowned and lowered my head, ashamed once again at my lack of confidence.

### "You know I'd do anything you and your father. If I can help in any way you let me know, okay?" he smiled that fatherly smile again. I wished the Old Man would look like that again.

### I laughed nervously, "Uh, just put in a good word for me at home, will ya?"

### Seth's eyes flashed with sudden understanding, "Women are a complicated species, JJ. Even when you think you know, you don't. I'll do what I can, Son. I'd be honored if my Joanna ended up with a nice boy like you," he answered and patted me on the back. The genuine smile on his face saddened me. If he had only known the things I have done, maybe he wouldn't want a "nice boy like me" around his daughter.

That's all over now, I reminded myself. I was turning over a new leaf, just for her. I would win that girl over if it killed me.

## 20

There I go again, fixating on my grand days of old, getting all sentimental like some damn chick. A lot of good that ever did me. I should have just stuck to being an asshole, I thought angrily. At least when I was a jerk I could pretend to be happy about it. Pretending, yes, but it was better than feeling like shit all the time. You know, "ignorance is bliss", and all.

### My muddy boot kicked at the decaying red book at my feet. It's crumpled pages jutting out from every angle of the ripped cover. I lifted my thick boot and punted that worn out piece of crap across the dirt. It landed with a disquieting thud against the cold silver mirror, landing upright, staring back at me with smug maniacal laughter.

### "Fuck you too, Shakespeare," I growled.

## 21

### My palms were sweating as I gripped the thick copy of "Romeo and Juliet" in my bumbly hands. The ancient fabric soaking up all of my nervousness. I wasn't even sure if the pages I had marked even meant anything. They sounded good, I think.

### What the fuck am I doing? This is so stupid!

### I paced back and forth along the bumpy sidewalk, my boots making the faintest scraping sound, which sounded thunderous in the still night. I had gone over this time and time again in my head. Each time, I willed the end result to my liking, deep down always fearing what might actually happen.

No, this is going to work. She will love me.

### I peered up at the picturesque little house that held my "Juliet". I wanted so badly to see her face, hear her voice, touch her skin. My entire being resonated with the thought. The book, now damp, grew heavy in my hand. I could feel myself beginning to lose my nerve.

### I opened the musty pages to the first marked section, picked up a jagged rock from the edge of the sidewalk, and chucked it at her window.

### Plink!

### I waited.

### After several painful seconds, I grabbed another, slightly larger rock.

### Plink!

### It was actually a comfort to know I hadn't exactly lost my aim lately, despite losing my mind. A pale glow suddenly illuminated from my target window. Now, I only prayed it wasn't the wrong one.

### The silky curtain slowly eased away from the glass, revealing Joanna's delicate face. She gazed around until she found me standing frozen on the sidewalk. I let out a sigh of relief, my heart almost melting. How did she do this to me?

### What I hoped would be flirtatious curiosity was instead a loathsome angry scowl that welcomed me to her front yard as she opened the window. I pushed forward.

"Uh...a rose...a rose..,"I declared with a an awful stutter, my hand raised in true overly dramatic fashion. Shit, what was the next line?

### "Why are you here?" she half yelled through a whispered voice down at me.

### That grand old nervous nausea came roaring back, washing away any confidence I had some how mustered.

### "Just...just wait. I'm trying to find...," I thumbed clumsily through the pages, not remembering which bookmark had the line I was looking for. My fingers jammed and became knotted lumps on my hands. My heart started to pound as I felt the all to familiar thump thump beginning to rear its bastard head.

### "Go home, JJ," Joanna said, not bothering to whisper this time.

### "No! Just wait!" I yelled back, slightly louder than I had anticipated. I didn't mean to be so aggressive, but she needed to goddamn wait! Flip. Flip.

### Where the hell is it?!

### Aha!

"A rose. By another name would smell sweat. I mean sweet!" I squinted hard at the worn pages in only the faint streetlight to read by. No, that's not right!

### Thump. Thump.

### "Let..let me try again," I sucked in a deep breath, willing my active heart to shut the hell up for just one second. My fingertips tracing over the faded ink, but before I could open my mouth again to speak, the window was closed and the curtain drawn.

### Thump thump.

### I swam in my own shame and stupidity. Thump thump thump. My throat started closing, sweat now raining off my forehead, spilling dishonorably onto the blood red book in my hands. I wanted to throw that fucking book as hard as I could right into her window until she choked on the words I meant to say.

### Thump. Thump.

### I couldn't stay here any longer or sure enough I'd pass out in the lush green grass of her front lawn. What would the neighbors say if they woke up to a dazed and confused lovesick teenager outside instead of the morning paper? I closed my eyes tight, wishing the pounding in my head and heart would just disappear like she did.

Why did I ever think this would work? I scolded myself.

### Thump. Thump thump.

No! This was going to work. She has to listen to me. I mentally forced my heart back into its rotten cage, momentarily silencing it's heinous laughter. I reached down and picked up a large half crumbled but very solid rock, steadied my breath, eyes never leaving their perspective target, and rocketed it at her window.

### Thunk! The harsh meeting of glass and stone echoed in the night. I no longer cared what the hell her neighbors thought, I only cared about getting her to listen.

### No timid face appeared at the window this time, instead an angry glare seethed at me as she threw the window up with unexpected force. She sure looked good angry.

### "Are you crazy?! Are you trying to piss off the entire neighborhood? What the hell do you want?" she screamed through a hoarse whisper.

### "Come down and talk to me. Scout's honor, if you don't like what I have to say, I'll never bother you again," I lied. How could I ever leave her alone?

### She hesitated, looking from left to right and back again. I wasn't sure if she was looking out for eavesdroppers or potential rescuers. Either way, she would find neither. The only other soul awake around here was Mike, hiding quietly behind the tree.

### "Alright. I'll be down," she responded shortly after several long moments of weighing her options.

### I beamed as I watched her leave the confines of her room. It was only a few seconds before I heard the soft click of the front door and saw her glowing form. She looked like a goddess in the moonlight. It simply took my breath away as I realized all I have worked for may actually be happening.

### "I'm here," she announced, still irked but slightly more vulnerable than she had been in her room. I eased at her nervousness. This I could handle.

### "Yes, you are," I smirked.

### "Say what you came to say or I'm going back inside."

### "It's cold out here. I can see you're shivering. My house isn't that far away and my truck is parked just up the street. Why don't we sit in my garage and talk?" The words so easily spewed out of my mouth. Granted this was not the first time they had been used to lure a girl into my lair, but I was still fearful she would not be persuaded so easily.

### "I don't think so," she answered quickly. The terror beginning to bubble in her eyes. I tried desperately to figure out how to make her understand that this was best for the both of us, but came up short. A small crack of a twig sounded in my ear as I remembered my cohort behind the tree.

### "It wouldn't just be the two of us, if that helps," I blurted out.

### She looked confused, and I think I was too, but I motioned for Mike to come out from behind the tree, his own face unsure of what action to take.

### "See, Mikey will be there too. No pressure. Just talk," I tried subconsciously to will her to see my side of this.

### She glanced back and forth from each of us several times, no doubt doubling checking the possibilities of whether or not to accept my offer. A cool breeze blew through the air, chilling her creamy skin.

### "Just talking. And you do not leave the room," she demanded, pointed a tiny strict finger at Mike. He raised his hands in playful defense and nodded.

### I held my hand out in front of her, hoping she was just take it. Instead she shoved her hands deep in the pockets of her dark jeans and followed Mike to the truck. I was not defeated, reaching into my own pocket, and taking a long swig from the tiny silver flask. I swirled the liquid around my tongue, relishing in the taste and basking in the confidence it gave me. I took another drink before catching up, glad I had another bottle under the seat.

### I passed the flask to Mike, who enjoyed the remaining shot. Jo Jo sat in the middle, the heat of her body felt good against the cold outside. I reached for the full bottle under my feet, drank, and passed it to her. She shook her head with a Vivien Leigh like look of disgust. I wasn't offended as I passed it to Mike instead, who drank hungrily. I actually liked that she didn't drink.

I smiled as we pulled away. She will see things my way. I know she will. She has to, I told myself as we drove down the street, taking another long guzzle of liquid courage.

## 22

### I should have just cut myself right there on the pavement that night before any of this shit ever happened. I should have just stuck to the first plan and offed myself, going out in a blaze of glory, on my own goddamn terms. Even then, I guess I might have still wound up in Hell.

Fucking, Moron, of course I would have ended up here. Heaven was never meant for me.

### The angry but smiling face is back again in the mirror, watching me decay from the inside. My skin is dripping off with stomach churning precision, landing with disgusting splats on my dirty shoes. I wait. I know it won't be long before my lady killer face has melted into a pile at my feet. I actually decide to watch this time.

### My eye sockets darken as the peachy flesh fades away. My face is always the last to change, but the hardest to watch. The claws that used to be my hands grow impatient and finish the job, ripping the remaining skin off in rubbery chunks. My pearly whites crack and break, shattering into tiny specks, leaving only jagged razors in their wake.

### I stare remorsefully at the gaping bullet wound in my forehead. The blood that crawls out of that cavern never stops flowing. I feel tears welling in my eyes, but see nothing of sadness in my reflection. The demon I am is the only thing that stares back at me.

### I know it's just an illusion. A rather good one, I'll admit, but I still continue to tell myself that it's not real. I gaze down at my hands apprehensively. They're a little dirty, but seemingly normal strong hands. My father's hands.

### The mirror paints another story, of course. The mirror is not my friend. The mirror has no friends.

### In that dirty fucking mirror, claws scratch and poke at my fleshless face. I become nothing more than the Devil's plaything in that mirror.

### My lips tighten, my eyes forcing back their treasonous tears. I yell out like a rabid wild dog, ripping off my muddy boot with my father's strong hands, wanting nothing more than to cut them off and forget my life ever existed. With one quick fling, I chucked my boot at the demonic face, letting it shatter and reform yet again. The second my boot returns, I repeat the process. Over and over.

### Smash and restore. Smash and restore.

I wasn't sure how long I kept it up. Time doesn't exactly keep on ticking down here. I threw my shoe once more. Like a trapped fly in a glass house, I somehow kept hope that this time would be that magic moment when it all works out.

### When the mirror returned to its form yet again, I just stood, looking back at my now normal reflection.

### "I'd almost rather stare at the monster all day," I declare to myself out loud, sadly afraid to admit that it was more painful to see the boy I used to be than that gruesome monster.

### Just a stupid boy.

## 23

### Mom sat on the corner of the neatly made bed. I always wondered why she took so much time and effort to make a bed look perfect when no one would ever see or care but her. I guess maybe that in itself was the point. Her face was sullen, her eyes empty and lost. I wasn't sure she was even aware that I was in the room. She just kept staring at the same ugly flower patterned wall paper. I followed her gaze as it landed on a pale yellow cluster of dainty flowers. In the dark they looked wilted and forgotten, almost sad. I wondered if that was how Mom was feeling.

### I walked quietly to the wooden dresser, placing her newly filled prescription on the edge next to Dad's latest bottle of whiskey. I set the small plastic container down softly along with the four pages of possible side effects that came with it.

This shit is suppose to cure you in one way but can kill you in a thousand others? No wonder doctors make so much money, I thought bitterly. I hated that she had to take these things. Why couldn't she just go back to being "Mom" again?

### "Uh, I got your pills, Ma. They're right here when you're ready. Doc says to take them with food if you can," I spoke slowly and nervously. It was almost like talking to a new acquaintance who you knew hated your guts already. I didn't think Ma hated me, but I did think she hated the world right now. I couldn't say I blamed her.

### Mom didn't make any attempt to move or acknowledge what I had said. She just continued to stare at those stupid yellow flowers. I had the urge to go buy a can of paint to wipe them all away, and give Ma a fresh coat of life so she would stop this zombie bullshit.

Kids aren't supposed to see their parents like this, I wanted to scream at her, but knew it would only fall on deaf ears. If she had stopped caring about Dad's drinking, I doubted she gave a shit about how I was feeling.

### "Alright, Ma, I'm going to head to Mike's. Do you need anything before I go?" I asked, knowing full well she didn't, but felt the need to offer. As I expected, she said nothing, keeping her focus on the dying flowers.

### I nodded my head both in agreement and in aggravation and walked out the door. I stopped in the hallway briefly, peering towards the "office". It was quiet and still, for now.

### I touched my left arm tenderly, still feeling the tight angry grip against my skin as I glared at the door.

Keep it up, Old Man, I swear, I screeched quietly at the empty door, frustrated that I lacked the ability to say it to his face. Not like he'd care, especially if he'd had a few too many, but at least it would be out there on the table. At least Ma had her damn flowers and happy little fucked-in-the-head pills to let her escape. I was stuck in reality hell with this asshole.

It can't get much worse, I thought sarcastically. I'm wrong, of course. Shit can always get worse, unfortunately. Fact of life, right there.

### No matter. It was only two years before graduation and then I'd be long gone from this crap hole. Let the Old Man stew in his own failures for a change.

## 24

### Knock. Knock. Knock.

### The persistent tapping boomed in my ears, heading ringing sharply. My stomach swirled slightly as I got up from the comfort and silence of my bed. I rubbed the sides of my temples harshly, trying to push back the pain. My breath still slightly wreaked of last nights festivities. With a horse cough and a heavy sigh, I wrenched myself out of bed. So much for napping.

### The cool breeze of the hallway hit my face, slapping my senses awake.

### Knock. Knock. Knock.

### I checked the flowered clock on the wall. 10:52 am.

### Knock! Knock! Knock!

### "For fuck's sake it's a Sunday! Give me a minute!" I muttered angrily. You'd think if no one answered by now they'd get the hint and leave. As I tried to imagine why someone would be so insistent, it hit me.

Desperately, I began to piece together the jumbled mess of shit that was last night, small fragments of Joanna filtered through my clouded mind, but still nothing solid. The faint scent of lavender wafted off my fingertips as I ran my hand across the stinging pain on my neck. I guess she really had liked it rough. My hands tingled as all the muscles in my groin began to ache. Short snippets of touching, kissing, and screaming flashed through my memories. I had a hard time distinguishing between any of it. I didn't know anything! I had no idea what the fuck happened last night, and I regretted that deeply. The pang of wanting to remember bore into my heart yet again. Thousands of questions instantly erupted into my thoughts. Was it good? Did she like it? Of course she liked it, Stupid, she came back! I thought as the eagerness at the front door continued.

### Knock! Knock!

My heart caught in my throat as I looked down at my disheveled state. Oh, shit! Fear washed over my face, the swirling gurgling sensation coming back with a vengeance. I couldn't decide whether to run and hide or puke on the stairs.

### Knock, knock, knock!

### The pounding at the door was coming more fiercely and wanting than ever. The raging vortex of bile and whiskey in my stomach failing to subside. My shaking hands quickly smoothing down the wrinkles in my shirt, fingers doing their best to wrangle my mess of hair. I had to push forward. I had to open that door!

Despite the overwhelming urge to upchuck, I couldn't hold back the school boy grin that was spreading across my face. Shakespeare, you old dog!

Grabbing a chalky mint from the table drawer by the door, I braced myself. Stay calm, Man. Be cool. Be cool, I prepped.

### Turning the handle, smile in place, I opened the door to my destiny.

### The sudden whoosh of air through the opened door felt good against my sweating skin. Hard bony knuckles accompanied the coolness of the air, soaring straight for my face. Before I had time to react, they made clear precise contact with the side of my already tender face.

### Wham!

I stumbled back slightly, completely unfocused and confused, ready to vomit now more than ever. My face was on fire, blazing and throbbing, screaming in pain. I touched the already swelling bump of my cheek as my eyes settled on him.

My comprehension was lacking, but my hatred reigned as I glared back at my dear brother. News sure does travel fast, I thought with a smile. Before I had a chance to gloat, it occurred to me that I might actually have to fight back. Curling my fingers into their trademark snarl, I readied myself to attack.

### Bam!

### Twinkling bubbles of flashing lights mixed with wisps of darkness invaded my everything. My teeth smeared unnaturally together, creating an alarming high pitched screech in my ears, as Harvey's jagged little fist smashed under my chin. The unsteadiness of my feet grew ten fold as I stumbled again and fell flat. Blood began spewing inside my mouth in thick globs of salty goo.

### The tingling sensation in my feet was finally beginning to fade. Harvey hovered over my fallen form. I could feel the heat of his anger pulsating off his skin, warming my own chilled bones. I coughed slightly, afraid I might be the one to puke on his shoes this time.

### "It's all over for you now, Asshole. I'm going to fucking kill you," he said gruffly before quickly stomping away.

### "Fuck," I mumbled as I made a second attempt to stand. My face was burning with pain, as was my head. As I lurched my body off the ground the thunderous nausea could no longer be stifled. I leaned out the door heavily, painting Ma's dying rose bushes with stale booze and half digested pizza. My mouth now tasted of bile and rust. Not a good breakfast combo. I wiped away the remnants with the edge of my sleeve, not caring that I missed and it streaked across my fingers instead.

### A slight smile began to creep across my face despite the thick sickness boiling at my insides. I'm sure the average observer would have thought I had gone mad, but in truth, I smiled because I had won. I had completely destroyed any chance of my brother being better than me. I got the girl, the Old Man and I were on even terms, and I had finally decided to get my shit straight. It wouldn't be long before the final curtain call on our differences would soon be drawn now that she was truly mine. I couldn't wait to hear the applause on this freak show finale.

### *

### My naive ambition that day was almost admirable when I think about it now. I sure wish I could have stayed unwittingly stupid to truth like I had been in that moment. Harvey should have done more than just punch me.

## 25

### The Old Man was a damn drunk and Ma was addicted to prescriptions. I had such wonderful role models, don't you think? Although the green happy pills didn't always do it for me, I enjoyed the taste of thick whiskey as it burned my throat. I can't deny that I enjoyed the overwhelming feeling of superiority it gave me as well. Especially on nights when the Old Man had a few too many also. To me, drinking put us on even terms when he got into a mood. Although, in my mind, it ended up being more of a contest to see who was the bigger asshole. "Anything you can do, I can do better", that sort of shit. Of course, after I started thinking of it as a competition, I was always in the lead, even when I wasn't.

### *

### I tipped the glass bottle just enough to let the dark liquid saunter past my lips and tickle my tongue. I gave a slight shudder of both repulsion and ease as fire erupted in my insides. I licked the remnants off of my lips as I waited for the drink to take effect. Another long swig followed, lightening the weight of the bottle even more. Another followed quickly after that. I watched the ticking clock in my claustrophobic bedroom as I counted the hot steps to Idontgiveafuckville.

### Tick, tick, tick.

### Thirty minutes. Although I had a good buzz, it wasn't quite the escape from reality that I was looking for. I clutched the near empty bottle, willing it to fill up again.

### "This sucks," I mumbled, gulping down the last bit of whiskey in one quick swallow. My head swirling more and more with each tick tock.

### I gazed up at the dark green clock that hung crookedly on my blank wall. It looked strange sitting up there all alone.

"You and me both, Clock," I said to the wall. Strange and alone.

I rocked my head from side to side, the heaviness almost knocking me over, the dizziness almost a relief from the constant pounding of thoughts in my head. My bottle empty, the clock screaming at me, I stood up wearily and reached for the door. Perhaps I should have paced myself? I thought sadly. I certainly couldn't face my demon like this. The door suddenly ran away from me before I even had a chance to get close to it, while the bed inched nearer. I raised a heavy arm up in front of me and slapped myself hard across the face.

"Walk...wa..wake..wake the fuck up," I told myself. My body would not comply, nor would my mind. Shit.

### I sat down, defeated by my own arrogance. I started to giggle for no other reason than I couldn't figure out what else to do.

### Knock. Knock.

### A faint sound crept into my mind, making my thoughts cower in unknown fear, the giggling halting quickly. I opened my mouth to answer, but couldn't remember what to say.

### Knock! Knock!

### "Jacky!"

### Oh, no.

### This time, not only did my thoughts cower, but my entire being wished to dig a deep trench and crawl into it until the Old Man went away. I didn't want to face him right now. I couldn't face him right now.

### "Jacky?" the Old Man asked this time, opening the door slowly. His dark peppered hair appearing first, followed by blood shot blue eyes. I remained on my bed, unable to move or speak. Even now, I still fear him.

### "Jacky! I was calling you," he said hoarsely, the words mushing together as he forced them out.

### I sat.

### "Answer me, Boy!"

### I looked up with the same blood shot eyes as my father, his face revealing his distaste for my drinking.

His half smile turned into a snarl as I stared at him. I knew he could smell the alcohol, so swimmingly thick in my room, the bottle clearly empty on the desk. In an instant, his hand raised and came down thunderously against the side of my face. There was no slap or sting, just a straight up punch to the face thump. I slammed hard against my bed, pushing back the urge to throw up the whiskey from my otherwise empty stomach. I can't let him win this one, I thought.

### Achingly, I sat back up, staring him down again. The nausea beginning to diminish and fill will something more angry. He reached back, fist ready, and struck me again. Bubbles filled my vision as I hit the hard floor instead of the soft bed. That good old need to puke soared back into my foggy brain.

### My knuckles crunched as my hand balled into a tight fist. I pushed through the pain and the vomit rising in my throat. Before the Old Man could get in another blow, I jabbed him one right in the jaw, barely making him quiver. I almost laughed, or cried, I couldn't quite tell which one. He shook his head slightly as I swung at him again, making contact with his temple.

### Still, he stood. I felt stupid and unsure, angry and agitated. We seethed in silence for several tense moments before the Old Man finally chipped away his aggression.

### "You really want to grow up like me, Boy?" he asked out of the blue, almost tearful in his plea.

I answered before even thinking, "Don't you get it, Dad, I am you."

### A wash of sadness filled his eyes, as we both realized what I had just admitted. Unfortunately, it was true. I was him. Disappointments and all. The part I left out was that, no matter how much I was like him, I could never be as good as he was.

### The Old Man left the room with large welts on his face. No doubt he headed for his "office". I landed firmly back on my bed, feeling the rush of blood to my own face intensifying. With the door shut, and the whiskey gone, I cried in shame until I passed out.

## 26

### I had almost forgotten about that one. The worst thing to admit sometimes is the truth.

### Dad was a drunk.

### I was a drunk.

### Dad was abusive.

### I was abusive.

### Dad was a failure.

### I was a failure.

### I was my father.

### The image in the reflection suddenly grew even more disgusting to look at. All I could see now was the Old Man staring back at me, laughing with that always disapproving face. At least the Old Man has sense enough to stay alive all theses years. I couldn't even manage to do that.

### Where the fuck did it all go wrong?

### I tried to imagine back at the happy go lucky moments of my childhood where Dad and I were pals, but all I can see is a blank screen. Denied again.

### I won't say it out loud, but sometimes, just sometimes I think Harvey was right to kill me.

## 27

My stomach growled and curdled all at the same time as the clock ticked away the seconds before lunch. I was both famished and nauseous at the same time. I would have to see them both at some point in the day. I honestly wasn't sure if I was ready to confront that demon yet. I kept watching the door, waiting for the police to bust it down and take me to jail. This time too many people knew. Mike would surely keep his mouth shut to save his own ass. The Old Man still had my back, I hoped. I could easily trust them, but Jo had already told. Of course she told him. Who knows who he told.

### I imagined them sitting down at the police department right now going over every gruesome detail. Most of which I couldn't even recall, but was sure it wasn't anything good.

### How the hell did I get myself into this mess?

### I ask myself the most idiotic questions sometimes, I tell you. I knew how I got here. I drank too much, lied frequently, and couldn't take no for an answer.

### Tick. Tick.

### Move faster, you fucking clock!

### I needed to get out of this room with its ever closing walls and suffocating air. I could feel my chest tighten as my brain began to swell with worry. It felt like everyone was staring at me, like they all knew what I had done. I could hear the faint whispers coming from the left side of the room as a group of girls no doubt were slandering my name at the thought of me hurting one of their own.

### Ring!

### My seat made a loud scraping sound as I jumped from the echoing bell. I opened my eyes wide, shifting them around the room. The lights were blinding. Everyone else had already begun to vacate the room. Only I was left. No one was watching. No one was whispering. The open door suddenly became my savior as I bolted for the lunchroom.

### The cool gust of fresh air from the hallway filled my lungs and calmed my mind. I pushed aside the growing feelings of shame, gathered myself, and prepared to meet my kingly court of jesters. I walked through the already noisy door, easing as I saw Mike and John at our usual table. Both were staring at me with a mixture of sadness and comfort as I approached. I had forgotten about John. Had he told?

### "Hey, Fellas!" I high-fived each of them, playing James Dean cool while my insides screamed.

### John nodded his head, eyes fixed on the scratches down my neck. The sting suddenly became present in his sight. I touched it gingerly as the crowd around me went on with their mundane normal lives.

### My thoughts reverted back to the handgun in the Old Man's "office". It looked more and more appealing these days. I shook my head, scaring away the pain, for now. As I plopped myself down on the edge of the table, a scrawny wide eyed freshman approached. He had stringy blond hair and a mouth full of braces. I watched him shakily pass a note to Cheryle, the cheerleader to my left. I chuckled slightly, running my fingers through my hair, and almost wished I was like him. Just a random nobody with enough balls to ask out the head cheerleader in front of everyone.

### As I laughed, the room grew eerily silent. Even the thump thump of my heart slowed to nearly a stop. A harsh scream emerged from one of the girls near the door.

### "Oh, shit!" I whispered as Harvey Carter, gun in hand, came to fulfill his promise.

### He looked angry and sad as the shiny metal glinted in the bright lights. I panicked, not knowing whether to run or face my crime. Everyone else started bolting for the doors and hallways, not ready to die today. Harvey aimed straight at me, his finger hovering over the trigger, but his eyes were shut tight. The dreamy freshman kid, too scared to move, stood directly between us.

I need redemption before I die! I shouted at myself as I shoved the kid away from me.

### Bang!

### The shot pounded loudly in my ears, making them ring in high pitched operatic form. I fell hard to floor, not sure if I had been shot yet or not. I crawled ungracefully under the table, patting myself up and down, waiting to find the bullet wound. I couldn't tell if there was blood through my red letterman jacket. I suddenly hated the color red.

### My heart eased when I realized I hadn't been hit. I peeked out from the table, Harvey approaching with a look of horrified fear and disbelief. I wondered if he was regretting this act of vigilante justice or just distraught that he hadn't succeeded.

### Mike began to scream and cry out like a dying cat not far from me. His loud blubbering was next to unbearable as I followed his mournful gaze.

### My everything sank straight to the pits of Hell as I peered at the dreamy kid's body just a few feet next to me. He was still. At first, I hoped maybe he was just playing possum, smart kids seem to know how to get out of tricky situations, you know, but as I watched the dark river of blood seep out from under him, I knew he wasn't playing. I didn't understand. How did this happen? I pushed him out of the way! He was supposed to be my redemption!!

### "Why'd you push him, Man? Why?" Mike's shrill hysterical voice blubbered at me. I had no response. I was utterly frozen as my best friend threw me under the bus with one sweaty, fat, accusatory finger. I was angry and overwrought with disbelief. How did he not see I was trying to save the kid's life?!

Thanks, Mikey! I screamed in my head.

### I guess that's what happens when the bad guy tries to do a good deed.

### Harvey came closer, "You saying JJ pushed him?" he asked my right hand man.

### Mike nodded in over exaggeration. I was furious at his lack of loyalty, but I had to admit he was only doing the natural human response of survival. He looked pathetic, groveling at Harvey's feet, begging for scraps of life. I suddenly realized what a piece of shit we both were. I couldn't believe I had actually thought I could be redeemed.

### Harvey walked toward Mike as he bawled and drooled with weakness all over his stupid green toilet shirt. I hated that damn shirt. Tears pooled in my eyes, and I almost started crying. My head filled with memories I wished I could take back. Harvey's face grew cold and heartless as he raised the gun a second time.

### I can't believe this is happening.

### Bang!

## 28

### I have to say I was never ceased to be amazed at the shit Harv could pull out of his dirty rabbit hat. I can't say I was surprised he showed up with a gun that day. He sure did have balls.

### "King of the Nerds" taking down "King of Everything Else". It should have been made into an after school special.

### He took it all away in a single moment of revenge. I didn't even get the chance to explain. I wish I could have explained that I didn't remember what happened that night in the garage. Alcohol will do that to you, you know.

### All in that short moment, I wanted to tell her I'm sorry. I wanted to tell him he'd won. I wanted to tell the dreamy kid to go for it, Cheryle was easy if you bought her beef jerky.

### No explanations. No redemptions. Just poof, you're gone!

### I still hated that little fuck, but at least at that moment, I understood his rage. If things had been the other way around, I wouldn't have hesitated to shoot him.

### I blame Harvey for this because I just can't let go of that pain. It's about all I've got to hold on to.

### I have to hate him.

### I still love Jo Jo. I still love Ma. And I'd still stick a damn knife right into the Old Man's gut if given the chance. I guess some things don't ever change.

### Of course I've had those, "what if", sappy moments where I like to pretend that I've done nothing wrong and am unjustly rotting in Hell. This is not one of those times.

### I can't conjure up any happy times or happy feelings. I can barely see my own reflection without the Old Man or the Devil looking back. I can't even clean my damn dirty boots. All I have are my hate and my own self pity.

### I hate Harvey Carter, and I hate myself.

### I know I'm not as smart as some, but I had always thought I knew far more about the world than the world would ever know about me. Maybe it was just better that way. Had the rest of the world known what I did to Jo, I don't expect I would have had such a grand memorial. If they knew, they probably would have taken turns pissing on my grave before the dirt settled, just to ensure I could taste it.

### I still taste Carter's hatred. I hope he still tastes mine.

### In that instance, staring at my own reflection, I see now where we all went wrong. We let him live.

### Had the great "King of the Nerds" never been born, his mom would have gone on to college and cured cancer. Had the Old Man not had to choose between love and loyalty, he wouldn't have realized what he was missing. Had I never started drinking, I would have never hurt her. Mike would be alive. John would have always had friends. A vast Utopia could have ensued without the likes of Harvey Carter.

It all boils down to that asshole. His existence poisoned the world. It still poisons me in Hell.

### My reflection seems to be in accord as it nods slowly through the slimy glass, smiling wickedly. It feeds off my anger and right now it's lunchtime.

### "Fuck you, Harv," I whisper, but only for the reflection. At this point, my heart tells me Harvey needs no reminders.

## 29

### My hands wouldn't stop shaking. I could feel the blood drain from my limbs, trying desperately to control the now symphony of drumming that was going on in my heart.

### Harvey stepped closer to Mike, who wouldn't stop whimpering and cowering. I was disappointed in his behavior, but knew I wouldn't be much different when my turn came.

### Mike cried so hard that drool and spit ran down his chin in a thin silver line. Tears sprinted down his cheeks like olympic runners, each one running faster than the one before it. I pitied him.

### Gun raised, eyes empty of any remorse, Harvey shot twice without another thought.

### Bang! Bang!

### I jumped each time, nearly pissing myself from the thunderous sound each bullet made. The porcelain white toilet on Mikey's shirt was now caked with black holes and splattered with what looked like red paint. His body slowly slumped to the floor as he choked on the red paint spilling from his insides. I wanted so badly for it to be just paint. I wanted to have the practical joke cameramen and my classmates come out from behind the corners laughing at my stupidity for believing this was real. I had almost convinced myself that this was just a joke, or at least a really fucked up dream, until John suddenly confronted Harvey. At first I thought he was going to attack him and end all of this horseshit. Johnny could have taken that kid down with one blow, but instead he dropped to his knees like a beaten stepchild, begging for forgiveness. My heart sank.

He's going to kill us all, ran again and again through my head.

### I watched Big John and his long ago pal duke it out emotionally in the suffocating lunchroom. My eyes shifting from Mike's red and green toilet shirt to the ensuing drama of who betrayed who going on a few feet from two slumped over dead bodies. My mind was still trying to wrap itself around the gravity of the situation as I faintly hear John declare his knowledge of that night with Jo.

### Jesus Christ, throw in a tiny little disaster and loyalty goes out the fucking window!

### I held back resentful anger, reminding myself that my life was now in the hands of my enraged brother. This could not be taken lightly. My eyes remained focused on that damn toilet shirt, ears transfixed on the conversation to my right.

### "Get down on your knees, Maggot!" Harvey demanded.

Here it comes, I thought grimly, closing my eyes tight, waiting for that inevitable pop to echo in my soul.

### There was a brief hush of silence through the panicked teenagers as Harvey began to cry.

### "You were my friend," he whispered quietly to John.

### Loud sobs of regret erupted from Big John as he began coughing and choking on his own anguish, tears no doubt streaming down his face as well.

### "Are you ready to die, Maggot!" Harvey screeched louder.

### John let out a sharp shrill cry as a hard thud filled the cafeteria instead of the expectant bang. I held my breath, waiting.

### Screaming students and frightened teachers were still abundant sounds, but the air lacked the crack of gunfire.

### I opened my eyes, expecting to see John caked in blood, but instead he is lying virtually unharmed on the floor like a sleeping child, Harvey hovering above.

### I was so focused on Johnny and his attacker that I did not realize there was another warm body still left in the room.

### She breezed through the room, hand delicately pressed upon Harvey's back. Her soft whisper floated across the room, but I couldn't quite make out what she had said. Carter simply nodded and turned towards on me. His eyes bore deep into my soul.

### Joanna followed, refusing to look at me at all, but I could clearly see that she intended to have me killed.

### I couldn't say I blamed her.

## 30

### We all make mistakes. Some make way more than others. Pretty sure I set world records myself. I screwed up everything those last few months I was alive.

"Just stab my ass with a hot poker and call it even, would you?" I ask my cold reflection. It does not answer back. We both know that's not nearly a good enough punishment for the things I have done.

## 31

"Jesus Christ....get yourself together, Boy! Mikey, get the hell out of here!" a booming voice invaded the euphoric slumber I had finally been able to succumb to. Why the hell is he yelling at me already? I was in no mood to take his shit at the moment, nor was I currently capable of defending myself in this condition. Booze, you dirty bitch, I thought angrily.

### My heavy eyelids fluttered open as I heard Mike run out the door, a scared rabbit as ever. The Old Man stood just inches from my pounding head. The intensity of his disappointment was suffocating, weakening my already disheveled state. My mouth tasted of vomit and shame. I wasn't sure if it was the alcohol or just my rotting soul. Either way it must have been one hell of a night.

### "What...have...you...done?" the old man voice was low and grave, the tone instantly sobering.

What had I done? I thought. Too much vodka, for one. Or was it the whiskey? I couldn't remember which one threw me off the cliff of logic and reason first. I looked around the trashed garage. Empty bottles and cans were scattered willy nilly all over the floor. My clothes were in a clump in the corner, my boots neatly placed on the workbench, polished and perfect. Sharp pain screamed across my face and neck as my hand instinctively shot up to inspect the source. My fingers grazed across three angry spears of dried blood.

### What was that from?

Scratch marks, Asshole, my mind yelled back.

### Flickers of memories and fantasies danced through my foggy head. It was hard to tell which was which through the ensuing chaos of the Old Man's voice and the ever growing need to purge my guts.

### I couldn't force the jigsaws together to give him an answer as he impatiently hovered over me.

### "From the looks of it, we had fun," I answered with a smirk, knowing full well he might kick my teeth in. I didn't care. From what little I could piece together, I had gotten the upper hand with Jo Jo.

### As my head began to clear, I could just make out the sweet scent of her skin on my fingers. My lips were sore, as was the rest of me, my scratch marks burning from the inside out.

### "I hope it was worth it," he replied with a snarl.

### I wish I could remember if it was. Nothing was completely clear after we got to the garage. We talked. I drank. We talked more. I drank more. I think we might have even laughed at one point. Things get a little fuzzy after that, just bits and pieces of pent up emotions and loud release.

### "You disgust me," a gruff whisper invaded my day dream with harsh reality.

Ditto, Asshole, I wanted to scream back in his face, but quickly decided against it. I wanted to rid myself of him as soon as possible. Relishing in my dream come true night was all I wanted to do. That, and hopefully repeat it again very soon, without the alcohol even. I wanted to remember her. I wanted to remember everything. Hell, I might stop drinking altogether if that makes a difference.

### No, that was pretty ambitious. Maybe just drink less, for a while. Everything inside of me was screaming to better myself for her. The Old Man's angry words aside, I felt inferior. I needed to rectify that.

### I looked back at the Old Man, an epiphany washing over my face, "Me too," I admitted boldly.

### He blinked, unsure of how to respond. I laughed a little at the idea that agreeing with him actually shut him up for a change. I suddenly wondered how things would have been had I just smiled and nodded my head more often.

### My father lowered his eyes, looking defeated, and grey. I pitied him, and the things I had done to make him this way. Guilt was not an emotion I was used to feeling. It ate away at my confidence, leaving me empty, but filled with regret.

### "You....wanna go for a ride in the old truck later?" he asked quietly, his voice almost fearful. At first I wasn't sure how to respond, or whether or not I even wanted to.

### "I think we need a talk," he added. It had been a long time since we had been in that truck together. Too long.

### Both internally defeated, I nodded silently. He turned and left me alone in the garage to start picking up the pieces of my broken life. I was never more ready to glue those pieces back together than I was now. Maybe there was hope for me after all.

## 32

### I had hope at that moment. Despite what I found out later, I had hope. What a piece of shit I actually was to think I could have been a decent man. The apple sure didn't fall far from the tree sometimes. I wonder what Harv would have been like had he been more like the Old Man and me? Maybe we would have gotten along a little better after all.

### The smooth complexion of my chiseled face looks empty in the cakey mirror, but only to me. If I had any company at all, they would unknowingly see a handsome boy with a potential future. Perhaps someone who had it together with a good head on their shoulders? I hated seeing myself like that. I hated that I still looked the same as always on the outside but felt like a monster inside.

I don't deserve to look like this, I tell the boy in the mirror. He smiles back with that coiled evil grin.

### I was evil.

I am evil.

I want that face gone more than any sort of revenge. My only desire right now was to rid myself of that potential. I had no potential here.

### "Change. Come on. Change! I said change!" I scream at my reflection, trying to will the demon that lies within. My smirking face begins to laugh, but remains handsome as ever.

### "Change! Change goddamn you!" my screams grow more intense, and I actually begin to sob. I can feel the hot wet streams fall down my cheeks, the mirror revealing nothing. There is no change, no gruesome transformation, only smiling happy JJ. I had a sick feeling deep in my gut that despite all my wanting, I would never see the monster again. Bittersweet irony of Hell.

### "You are the monster," I tell my grinning self, still hoping the inner demon will rip that damn smile off my face.

### I reach down, grabbing for my muddy boot, and chuck it hard once more at the dirty silver looking glass. I wait for it to reform, boot returned, before I let more invisible tears fall down my face.

## 33

### You might find this surprising, but the Old Man wasn't always a hard ass. When I was younger, he was actually a pretty amazing guy. Everyone respected him, and not just the "I'll do what you say, please don't hurt me," kind of respect. They truly liked him. I had a lot of good memories with him. None more cherished than those simple trips to nowhere in my dad's beat up truck. Happiest memories of my life were in that musty old cab. It's not fair that the only truck memory I ended up with wasn't the best, but no one said Hell was fair, did they.

### *

### The rusty door made a gut wrenching, banshee like scream of metal rubbing in undefined locations as it creaked open. I cringed every time it did, even now, but I still loved this old truck. I was the one who begged the Old Man not to scrap it out when Ma was on a tirade about cleansing ourselves of useless possessions. She agreed to donate her wedding dress to the church if he got rid of his broke down pickup. In the end, Ma still kept her dress, and the Old Man still kept the truck. Some of the best moments of my life happened in the cramped cab of that pickup. He and I would find an old dirt road and waste an entire tank of gas just cruising around and talking about nothing to everything. Girls, sports, candy bars, and life.

### Things were so much different these days, but a large part of me would always love this damn truck. I was secretly hoping I'd get to have it after I graduated. If I graduate, I guess. The way things were going these days, I wasn't even sure I'd make it through senior year.

### I knew things had to change. I was at a crossroads that I hadn't realized I had stumbled upon until now. Crazy serendipity. Last night was the first step. As I climbed into the dusty truck, I knew this was the next one. The Old Man slid into the driver's seat, silent. Neither of us spoke a word as the engine came to life. The rumble of old parts seemed to thrum in rhythm to my heart. I knew it did for him too.

### He pulled out onto the road, still quiet as a church mouse. Several minutes sputtered by before we found our favorite gravel road. We were mere seconds down that dusty trail when the Old Man took in a rather large breath, and crushed all bits of happiness that I had accumulated from the last few days.

### "That girl going to tell on you?" he said matter of factly.

How did he find out about Genna? I wondered fearfully. My heart sank at the thought that she actually did tell someone. I debated on whether or not to play dumb, but knew trying the ignorance card was not an option with him.

### "She..uh..well..she's never said anything yet. Not that I know of," I answered slowly and quietly, disbelieving that I was actually confessing to raping Genna so long ago. I kept wondering how he had even found out. It wasn't something I cared to remember myself, and I hadn't known Genna to tell anyone that might say something to Dad.

### He simply nodded, eyes on the deserted road.

### "How did you find out about Genna?" I asked nervously after a few more quiet seconds, hoping she hadn't really told after all, and he was just making me out a liar.

### The Old Man hit the brakes sharply, sending me slamming against the dash with an undignified thud. His face red with a hot temper I was sure didn't come from the booze this early in the morning.

### "Who's Genna?" he asked angrily, his hands gripping the cracked steering wheel with fierce frustration.

### "That's...that's the girl, Dad," I answered, slightly confused. Maybe he just didn't know her name, or maybe hearing it made it worse.

### "Pretty sure Seth's girl's name isn't Genna, Boy," rage boiling in his voice, seething through the thick tension rising in the truck. I suddenly realized this might not have been the best idea after all.

### "What?" I asked, not pretending to be stupid, just incredibly confused and hoping this was all an illusion.

### "Joanna. That's her name, right? She's who ran out of the garage in a real messed up state last night. Right?!" he screamed.

### I felt the blood drain from my face as his words echoed in my mind. I hoped I had heard wrong.

### Messed up state? What the fuck did that mean?!

### The Old Man was huffing now, anger taking over rationality. He turned, grabbing me by the back of the neck, shoving my face into the hard cold plastic in my front of me. My face molded into the mint green dash, my father's words drowning in my head as I tried to push them away. Tears broke free and fell down my face. The Old Man let go, sitting back in his seat, collecting his own sad thoughts.

### "You could have really hurt that girl. Hell, who knows, you probably did! Now, don't worry. Even if she tells, Seth and I are close. I can talk to him. This won't hurt you in any way, you hear me? You're job now is to get that damn scholarship back!"

### I nodded, knowing that was a damn lie. I was already hurt and that scholarship was long gone. I touched the scratches on my neck with raging disgust. Whatever fucked up fantasy I had painted in my head of last night became a jagged knife right into my heart.

### "Put yourself together for fuck's sake," the Old Man growled as the truck roared forward, "Genna, huh?"

### I lowered my head in shame. Shame that there had ever been a "Genna" in the first place, and shame that there had been another.

No more drinking, I declared. I had to put this right. I laughed a little on the inside, suddenly realizing why Harvey punched me in the face on my own turf this morning.

He should have done more, I admitted. The gun in the Old Man's "office" was looking more and more appealing with every sad thought.

### "I'm sorry, Dad," I whispered into the cold dashboard. I could feel his eyes on me, but I was too scared to face him this time. It wasn't like when we fought with our hands, or the nasty name calling we did when we were drunk. I legitimately could not look him in the eye because I had shamed him.

### Despite my shame, I couldn't help but be a little pissed.

### She fucking told.

## 34

### If all good stories end where they start, then mine is going to be a fucking classic.

### *

### My watery eyes glared at Jo as she sauntered around Carter. Not only did that bitch tell on me, she was going to dance on my grave to boot. Part of me actually wanted to admire the fact that she had the balls to pull off getting my own brother to shoot me, and the other part was still grieving that she rejected my very presence on earth. I tried not to be angry because I knew she was just enacting much deserved revenge, but I was still furious.

### I stared at her intently, her gaze never crossing my own. Through the tears and nervous worry, I still wanted to scream at her to see me.

### Just look at me! For once, see that I'm a man, not a monster!

### I hesitated at the last thought. I've lived my entire life being praised and idolized simply by being an asshole, constantly convincing myself that I was in fact the good guy all along. My feet were slipping in the blood of my best friend and a complete stranger, my man in waiting lay crumpled on the floor in front of my own flesh and blood, and the woman I loved was about to have me murdered. I chuckled slightly to myself thinking of the phrase, "good guys finish last". I was dead last this time. Did that make me the good guy after all?

### Joanna whispered quietly to Carter before he turned on me. I crouched lower under the table, suddenly feeling incredibly mortal and afraid. My heart began its unhappy out of sync dance. Thump thump. Thump thump. Sweat mixed with blood spatters of lost friends caked my pores, causing my skin to suffocate. I was quite literally drowning in blood and fear.

### Thump thump. Thump thump. Faster and faster around the crazy merry go round of dizzying panic. I pushed back that grand old urge to vomit yet again. As my heart and mind picked up speed in opposite directions, I realized I wasn't ready to die.

I can't let this happen. I can't do it. It's...just too much! This isn't real. This isn't real. This isn't real. I repeated my own mantra of insanity, trying to silence my overwhelming pain. Thump thump. Thump thump.

### Gun metal shimmering, Harvey grew closer, his finger nestled comfortably on the tiny trigger. Reality was a heavy crushing burden. Harvey's feet were inches from my face as I did the only thing I could think of that might save my ass.

### "Please, Carter! Please, I...I'm sorry, Man!" I groveled and begged, forgoing any and all self respect I had left. I plead on my hands and knees at his feet, eyes filled with tears. I didn't care who saw me bowing down like a beaten dog. I wanted to live damn it.

### Begging for mercy wasn't something I was accustomed to doing, but I figured if I had any shot out of this, it would be appealing to his softer side. We were brothers after all, right?

### Harvey stared at me hard before responding, "Oh, so, you're sorry? Did you hear that, Jo? He's sorry! I guess we can all forgive and go home now, right?!" he screamed back in my face. I sank, eyes bulging from an overflow of tears and pang of failure.

### Thump thump thump. My heart was overbearingly erratic. My hands reached out like an apologetic child, grabbing at Harvey's shoes, eyes pleading mercifully.

I could see the cold steely blue of his eyes soften as I sobbed on his cheap boots, soaking them with my shame. Please, Brother! I begged silently.

### Harvey sighed slightly, moving his shoe out from under my clinging grasp. Before I could open my mouth to continue my defense, the hard rubbery sole came flying forward, slamming into my still tender jaw. My head snapped back with unnatural force, making my neck pop and crack. The crunching of enamel echoed loudly in my head as I felt two of my teeth break under the pressure of hatred and vengeance. Harvey towered above me as I rolled across the floor, coughing and choking on the thick red blood now gushing from my mouth.

### I tried to sit up, but couldn't muster the energy through the pain, so I rolled instead.

### "Harv...Harvey, please," I begged again through a mouthful of blood. There had to be some kind of sympathy left in him. He wasn't the vicious type. Harvey was not a bad guy. He couldn't go through with this.

"Shut the fuck up, JJ. You deserve this, and you know it. No more excuses for you, Brother," a raging voice interrupted the last bit of rational thinking I had left.

Holy shit, he's really going to kill me. Thump thump. Thump thump.

### I shook my head, pushing that thought away. I had to keep trying. He had to listen to reason. This was madness!

### Joanna cried silently in the background as the dark black hole of the gun barrel entered my vision. Harvey's face was like stone, but the quickening beat of his heart sounded in my ear, almost comforting me.

### I watched Harvey's finger close in on the trigger. My heart stopped.

### "No...no..you.."

### Bang!

## 35

### One bullet, straight through my ignorant brain. Lights out. Show's over. There was no beaming light at the end of the tunnel. No wispy angels to lead me to the afterlife. No loved ones to greet me at the pearly gates. The world I once knew was empty, completely void of any and all sense a human grows accustomed to using to experience the world. There was just nothing. Pure darkness, until I opened my eyes and glimpsed the figure in the shiny silver mirror, the glass filmy, but still quite visible. I watched my reflection for an otherworldly amount of time when I woke up from the day dream I used to call life. Still good looking. Still strong. Still so sure on the outside, but the hollowness grew deep within like a seedling in a fresh spring rain. It grew until the monster ripped through my perfect flesh, torturing what remained of my soul.

### The Devil owned my soul now. I couldn't even call it mine. He decided what I saw and felt. He chose the words that I would have to hear for eternity. My second chance was over. My redemption a passing fancy.

### I'm forced to watch the Old Man do his dirty dance with that whore. Forced to relive my dark hours. Forced to see Ma...

### No matter. What's done is done. I can't change it.

### I hate that I know that. It makes me want to go back to being stupid and unknowing. I want to not know any of this. I want to live again, redo it until I get it right, or at least decent. I want to die with dignity. Or at least die knowing I had made a difference in the world. A good difference.

### Strange how even after committing the most horrible acts, you suddenly want to repent all of your wrongs while on the brink of death. Like doing that one good deed before you die is ever going to save your sorry ass. Trust me, it doesn't. Most of the time it only ends up making it worse.

### I pushed the dreamy kid, because I wanted to be the good guy just once before I kicked the bucket. I wanted to feel the inner superiority of integrity simply by doing what was right instead of what would get me ahead in life. I wanted to be the knight in shining armor, not the big fucking ogre he comes to slay in order to save the princess.

### Hell taught me that I'm not the hero. In Hell, I ain't even the sidekick. Come full circle, back to where I started, I'm still just the bad guy, each and every day, with a good guy's face. I like to pretend I don't care or that I did change before it was all over, but I know when I look in that mirror it's not true. I know when I see myself, handsome or not, I'm just who I started out to be before Jo ever talked to me on the lawn that day. I should have just accepted it then and moved on. I always thought Harvey was stupid for not being able to do just that. And I here thought every one else was the hypocrite.

### 3 years.

### That's how long I have been dead. That's how long I have been forced to stared at my sorry carcass with dirty shoes. God damn dirty shoes.

## Epilogue:

To my dearest Jackson,

I miss you. I miss how you always took care of me. I never told you that it mattered, but it did. I wish I could tell you how important you were. Maybe I will be able to soon? My doctor gave me this notebook to write to you. He said it would help. This is the first time I've actually written in it since your father left me alone. I can't be alone. You know that. I wish I could care that he left, but I don't. I hope he and Trina are happy. At least one of us might be. I can't do this anymore, JJ. I want to be with my son. Wherever you are, I want to be there and away from this emptiness. All I ever knew to be was a mom. Without you, I am nothing. I hope you can forgive me for this. I love you.

To the moon and back,

Mom
Ma set her pencil down. I felt sick as I watched the words I had feared so intently form in front of my eyes as I peered at her in my darkness. I tried to reach out, but I could not touch her. I was only here to observe.

She stroked the Old Man's "office" gun with deep sadness and longing. It was all too familiar longing. I knew that damn gun was loaded, just how I had left it. The room around her looked bare as I realized my father's things were gone. He really had left her.

Tears rolled like silver beads down her pale cheeks. Ma made no attempt to brush them aside, instead she cried harder and sobbed out loud. Her hands were shaky as she picked up the heavy gun. I doubted she had ever touched a weapon much less used one. The safety was off, just as I had left it. All it would take would be the flick of her bony finger.

I started to scream as she held the gun to her temple, "Put it down, Ma! Put it down! Please, Ma, just put it down!" I knew she couldn't hear me, but I had to try. I had to stop this craziness before another person was hurt.

"Ma! Please, Ma! Don't do this. Please don't do this for me. I'm not worth dying for," I began to cry along with her, tears pouring down my face with invisible fury. I couldn't believe this was happening, and that I was being made to watch.

The gun to her head, pain in her watery eyes, and heaviness in both of our hearts, she pulled the trigger.

Bang!

It was quick, like a bandaid, and over before I had a chance to let out another pleading scream. The echo of gunfire rang through the half empty room with a haunting melody of loneliness. A mess of life was scattered across the pale yellow flowers on the walls and the desk she had been sitting at. Staring down at my muddy boots, while I stood in the dark depths of Hell, I prayed for my mother's soul.

