2 Chapter 2: Jamez-Grudges and Hate And Despair

    I lay the framed photo on its face. I was tired of gazing at it. The blonde boy was wearing my eyes down to the point they were sore from looking at him. The kid on top of my bunk bed jumps down, very different from my brother in the photograph.

    "Hey Jamez, you wanna play kickball?"

    I keep forgetting his damn name. "No, whatever-your-name-is." I wave him off.

    "Come on! All you do is lie in this bed looking at that stupid photo! You're getting fat!" The kid slaps my belly, and I miss my attempt to knock his hand away.

    I grab my jacket off the edge of the bed and get up. I pull my arm through both denim sleeves and push the kid out of the way. "You don't know shit, so shut up and mind your own damn business!"

    I grab my backpack off the floor and head for school. I planned on skipping today. That kid just made me realize how important a good education is. And it helps people to mind their own damn business.

    I'm pouting as I march my lonely way to school. Holding the straps of my book bag, only letting go to place in my earbuds and slide my shades over my ears. I think that even with the shades on, my somber mood resonated with the Earth. Everything seemed to be so gray. Such a pale, misty blue.

    It's unhealthy that I always feel this way. Ashamed, alone, and discarded. Being in that boy's home isn't helping me one bit. I don't feel like I'm part of anything but my own crafted solitude. I don't feel productive. I can't even force myself to smile anymore unless someone is going there to consider removing me from that Hell. It has yet to happen, though.

    Everything in my life went to absolute shit once Nathaniel died. My Mom kicked me out, and I can't blame her. If she hadn't I might have just voluntarily ran away or killed myself. The only reason I haven't is probably because of my little sister. Tatiana. That beautiful fucking disgrace.

    Tatiana and Flin, my other sister, both gave me small relics for me to cherish. Tatiana gave me a shark tooth necklace and Flin gave me a silver ring that I noticed she had stolen from Mom. It had "Nate" carved into the jewelry in a cursive font. I'm pretty sure I kissed the damn thing everyday.

    Flin and Nathaniel were actually twins. I'm sure she was better off stealing this ring for herself rather than giving it to me. I'm positive it hurt her more. Nathan passed in a car crash and everyone was to blame. Car manufacturers, my mother, Nathan himself, me, and that damn drunk girl that ran away. Golden hair layered down her back. She crashed her car into ours as we were pulling out of a store and her and her friends had bolted before the cops had came. I pursued them, but I was slow at catching up and I didn't know where I was.

    I threw a piece of glass at one of them and it did graze her jaw. The one in the driver seat. It was her fault, so I went for her. I don't know how scars work, but I am pretty sure that it's an everlasting scar on her face. If I ever see her, I'll know.

    I turn left around a corner and head down an alleyway. I pass several sour dumpsters going through. I make a right and the school was approximately 100 yards away. Flooding inside were a diverse set of kids all looking for a mediocre education--some, for better, and others, none at all.

    I trek down the sloped hill to the entrance. I head up the inclining stairs behind a stout woman wearing a pink belt too tight and a black shirt too small. Huffing and puffing, I throw on my hood. I wanted to be incognito today.

    I see in the corner of my eye--that isn't tinted grey--Mr. Freeman approaching me. I try to quicken my pace so he wouldn't catch me, but he grabs my shoulder and pulls out my earbud in my right ear. A quick anger situates in my belly and I try to swallow it away but it doesn't want to go.

    Glaring at the old, white teacher, I snap, "What do you want now, man?" I blow my breath again. My accent thick with its Dominican roots. I was about ready to curse at him, but I just barely restrained.

    "Your drawing for 500 points was due yesterday," he informs as if I didn't already know. "I know you completed it, and I need it before school ends! It's your final and if you don't turn it in your grade will be an 'F'."

    "Yeah, yeah, yeah, okay," I growl and shrug.

    "Jamez, I don't need to pass high school, you do!"

    "Yeah, well your class is just an extracurricular." I grab his hand and try to take it off but he tightens his grip.

    "Spanish is an extracurricular that you need to graduate."

    "Okay, my mom speaks Puerto Rican. If I want to learn one of the many diverse tongues of Spanish I'll go to her or my abuela." This time I successfully knock his hand off my shoulder and stomp into the open cafeteria with the mass of voices louder than my headphones.

    I drop at one of the empty rectangular tables. Soon enough, as the bass drops to my song, someone joins me. Some kid with the skin tone of a peanut, hair as black as his cotton jacket and brought back on his head, and eyes like the midnight's sky.

    I recognized him from one of the reading classes I have. I forget his name, but he usually stayed in the back of class. I was in the front, but I knew he watched everybody and heard everything. That may not be fact, but it was an opinion that could easily be proven. I could look back at any time, and like now, he would be studying and reading everyone like a class assignment. His eyes and ears in a cooperative effort relaying separate information about everyone he spots doing anything that piqued his interest.

    Damn, what's his name? I'm forgetting everyone's names today.

    Over my nearly silent headphones, again, I hear collected girly voices. From the country accent, I felt I already knew who was coming. Goddamn Camilla and Samantha. Camilla and Samantha are like KitKat bars. You have to snap them in half to split them. In other words, piss one off, you get them to leave the other alone. They don't stick around each other when the other is heated for some reason.

    Just something I noticed…

    Camilla was representing with the school's colors in her hair as green and orange ribbons tying her hair up in a messy ponytail. Her hair looked like shit; she looked like shit; her body was shaped like the shit emoji. Overall, Camilla was--and is--shit. I don't know what it is about her, but I don't like her.

    Samantha, on the other hand. She could get this work! I would take her home for a one night  quickie and be done with her, but they are polar opposites. Where Camilla was hideous and looked like a haunting gorilla, Samantha looked like a majestic goddess. I mean, I don't like either one of the hoes, because that's what they were. But based on looks, and not both of their uptight personalities, Samantha was winning. I mean, Camilla was shorter than Sam, but Samantha was cuter overall. She had fuller, pinker lips. Her hair was this really faded rainbow color. It was so faded that her hair might as well had been its bleached color.

    Other than that, I'd pass. On both of them.

    When they passed me, Camilla shot a quick glance at me over her shoulder. After getting her glimpse, she whispers into Samantha's ear. I don't know what she was whispering about in her ear, but I'm sure I didn't like it.

    I groan and lie my head on the table. I was tired of looking at people. I try to drown out the sounds and focus on my music only. I ignore the bell signaling it's time for first period.

***

    I'm growling as I pull both arms back to my ribs and thrust them outwards with a shout. Fire spits from my very palms and the building is rising in the element. I charge head first into the flames. I spot my target. A triple-headed dog about six feet tall on all fours. Most of the building was already destroyed when we began fighting and rubble was already displaced around.

    The beast barks at me, all three heads are snarling and drooling. I summon my precious katana and slice the air only. I grab the white hilt with both hands but I only use it with one. The black blade shines from the fire's light.

    The beast lunges and snaps its jaws at me. I spin to my left behind an ancient, rusted refrigerator and knock it over with a powerful budge. It smashes one of the heads, but the attack isn't lethal. The head just shakes off the concussion and the beast pursues me. I lead it into a pursuit I actually laugh through. I mantle over marble counters that the beast flipped. I threw can openers. Pushed ice boxes. I even phased through a shelf as flame particles, solidified on the opposite side, and pushed it down on the triple-headed dog.

    "Done playing fetch, boy?" I cockily smirk with my blade over my shoulder, waiting for the creature to assist itself to freedom.

    It finally escapes and I stand tall on the floor, nonchalant and look at the department store that was slowly falling apart.

    "How about we continue our little brawl outdoors? There's definitely more room. Besides, this place is cramping my style."

    The creature claws at the tiled floor. It leaps into the air, all of its separate faces locked on to me.

    "I'll take that as a no then, but you're going to regret doing this!"

    I drop on my back and the beast flies clean over me. Its legs can't catch it as it's rendered lifeless. The good thing about fighting daemons and not minions is that they simply die from getting cut or stabbed in a critical spot. The minions need the extra effort of getting their head severed. Specifically, their brain stem.

    I angle my head at the monster. Waiting for it to twitch just so I had another reason to cut it down some more that wasn't overkill.

    It doesn't. The flames make their way to the corpse and begin to eat it up like a fine meal. They devour me too at the cost of being absorbed into my energy reserves.