Chapter One

Ring-Ring-Ring. I woke up groggy and confused until I remembered that today was a school day. Another wonderful start to another wonderful day, I thought to myself sarcastically. I started looking around for my alarm, aka banging around with my hand, then my hand finally found my alarm and hit the snooze. I rolled out of bed and turned my light on. The light hurt at first but my eyes started adjusting quickly. I quickly got dressed in my usual, a green t-shirt and jeans, and went downstairs to eat breakfast. I got my backpack and went outside with my book in one hand and a pencil in the other. I looked down at my watch. 4:00, my clock read. He's late, again. I sat down on the sidewalk and started reading my book. 15 minutes later, the bus came rolling down the street. The bus was really something, with a faded yellow smudged with dirt that was collected on the bus over the years, and an almost broken stop sign hanging from the side, and the doors looked like they were going to fall off the bus at the slightest bump in the street.

I stood up and waited until the bus stopped and opened its doors to go in. The bus driver was a mountain of a man, 6:7, and looked like he weighed 300+. He had a scraggly beard that looked like he tried taming at one point in time but gave up. He wore a dirty brown jacket over an old rock and roll shirt, with faded jeans and dark brown boots.

"Hello David, how're you," he said with a smile.

"I am doing as well as expected," I said.

"Have you found it yet?"

I replied with "Do you think I would be here if I did," very sarcastically.

"No need to be rude, kid," the bus driver mumbled.

I sat down at my usual spot next to the front and started reading again. The driver started looking over his shoulder as if something interesting was happening. After five minutes of him just looking back at me and random intervals, I finally ask "Why do you keep on looking at me?".

"Well, you're always reading them books, so I just wanna know what you're reading."

In my mind, that question made some sense, since I did read daily. "Ok then you could have asked if you wanted to," I replied. The rest of the bus ride was in silence until the school appeared in sight.

I tried to avoid the coming question but to no avail. "So what have you been reading." I sighed and told him "It might seem a little strange but I have been reading about Spanish dueling. I find it very interesting and have always been fascinated with swords," very sheepishly.

"Well ok then. Well now off ye go to class."

While we had been talking I did not realize we were already parked right in front of the school building. "Well then see you later," and I hopped off the bus and walked towards the high school. It was a really fine building, even if it was worn down a little due to storms and whatnot. The bricks looked strong, and the supports sturdy. I went down the opening hall and went up a flight of stairs towards the guest entrance to get up to my first-hour class, social studies. I went over to my spot, dropped my bag, and went to sleep.

...

I remember something shaking me awake, and then being in a daze for a little. When I finally woke up I saw a mop of brown curly hair, and my first thought was Ethan. Ethan was one of those people that was not the best at anything but was just one you could joke around with and have a laugh every once in a while.

"Let me guess," I said. "Class is getting ready to start."

"Yep, you know it. And dude, you need to get some sleep at night."

"Trust me I have been trying to get sleep, but I have to wake up at 4:00 a.m. for the stupid bus," I said angrily, deprived of my rightful sleep.

"Why not just have your parents drive you here and drop you off as mine do?" said a bewildered Ethan.

"They are too busy trying to work to take me to school." In reality, they were actually busy but they also did not want to pay for gas. We are trying to save money, they said to me. For what, I have no clue.

"Even your parents have enough time to take you to school so dude why are they not?" Ethan said, pondering.

"I don't know, ok, so just give me a break," I barked. Ethan backed off slowly, and I could've sworn that he mumbled under his breath "Chill man" but I said nothing regarding it. A couple of seconds later, my social studies teacher, Mr. Brown, walked into class.

"Good morning, high schoolers. Today we shall start with a review of the Battle of Antietam. Now, who can tell me about what happened there, hmm? How about you, David?"

My brain, which was still kinda fuzzy from being woke up, immediately snapped to attention. I spouted off from memory, "The Battle of Antietam was fought during the Civil War around 170 years ago. It was the bloodiest battle in American history with close to 22,217 killed, wounded, or missing. The Union won the battle but they did not feel as if they had the victory."

"Well said, Mr. Carter, well said," applauded my teacher. "Almost directly quoted the textbook." At this appraisal, my face almost turned bright red. I was never good with praise. "However, you did forget one thing." At this, I could feel my face contorting into a puzzled one, as I did not think I had forgotten anything. And then it hit me.

"I almost forgot about how the Union won the battle," I said rapidly before Mr. Smith could open his mouth. "Yes, that is right. So how did they win?"

"They won due to the Confederate retreating but in casualties, neither side won."

"Right again, David, right again."

With that done, I relaxed a little and settled more into my seat. After a quick lecture on how General Lee won most of his battles, he told us to go research his top three battles and tell us how and why he won. Me and Ethan stayed together working on the assignment (with only one of us working on it, guess who) and we were done 15 minutes before class ended. When class ended, I was on my way to Calculus when the worst thing that could happen, happened. I accidentally stumbled into my least favorite person, Jackson Smith.

Jackson was tall, almost six-foot three, with black hair and brown eyes, and had a history of sports wins under his belt. He was by far one of the most loved people in my high-school, Wattlecreek High, but there was one thing that he seemed to hate. That thing being me.

"Hey watch where you're going," he fired at me. Then looking up and down at me, he realized who I am. "Hey freak, what do ya think you doing," as I tried to walk away as casually and fast as possible. I stopped, all the while thinking What the hell did I do wrong today to deserve this?

"Hey freak, come back here now," he said commandingly, as if I was a dog that tried to run away from its master. I tried to force my limbs to move, but to no avail. My body was held by fear, fear of what he would do to me if I tried anything. This had been going as long as August of last year, ever since people had figured out what I was.

"Hey, I said to come back freak. Why are you not coming?" Jackson said wrathfully. "Have you finally grown a pair, 'cause if so, congratulations, you're gonna wish you hadn't."

"Bud, I had a pair long before you, as your mother fully knows." I looked around for who said it, and then it hit me. I was the one who said. Oh, shit.

"What the hell did you say to me, you little shit," Jackson said, while rushing forward, towards me. Everything in my body was screaming to run, but the little voice in the back of my head said to stay calm and try not to get myself killed. And an even smaller voice said to do the dumbest thing possible. Guess which one I listened too. While Jackson was running towards me, I ran towards him. He stopped all of a sudden, as if he was surprised that I would run. I then did him one better.

With him stopping I jumped up and swung my fist right into his nose as hard as possible. When the hit collided with his nose, I felt something break in it. Jackson tumbled down in a mess of blood and tears. Jackson tried standing up and failed and then some of his friends helped him up. "Oh you're dead. DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME, YOU'RE DEAD," he bellowed at me. "Fine by me," I said with more coolness than I felt.

"And at least I won't have to deal with you anymore when I am dead. No more days of you stealing from me, no more days of constantly living in fear, and no more days of walking home with broken bones and bruises covering my body. So go ahead and do it, you bastard son of a bitch. At least I will be free from this, so come on let's go," I said with my body trembling as months of abuse were threatening to let loose. Jackson ran forward, fists swinging. I ducked and did a jab right towards his stomach, when that hit I lifted up both hands and boxed his ears, while kicking him in the groin. He stumbled but I was not done with him yet. When he fell, I got on top of him and started to beat the ever-loving shit out of him, just hammering my fists into his face over and over again until Jackson blasted me upwards. I landed on my back, trying to get on my feet, but it was too late. Jackson grabbed me into a chokehold, and I could see black-spots at the very end of my vision. I tried to make his arm go back but to no avail. I settled for a head-butt, slamming the back of my head right into his chin. My head hurt like hell, but I had to continue, to get revenge on the one who had tormented my existence for months. I just had too.

With Jackson's arm slipping, I grabbed it and judo flipped Jackson onto his back. With the wind knocked out of him, I grabbed his leg and hyperextended it by slamming my fist right into his kneecap. With him just howling in pain, I decided to give him a few broken bones so I grabbed his arm by the elbow and just snapped his arm so that it was bending in the opposite direction. I could see some bones rubbing against the his skin, but I continued my bloody work. At that point one of his friends, Tenner, stepped behind me and thought he could try and ambush me. He thought wrong. I spun around with my foot doing a roundhouse kick to his face and then I continued my momentum and slammed my foot right into Jackson's gut by doing a backflip. I think I made it so he would never have kids.

At that point all hell broke loose. Jackson's friends came right for me, revenge gleaming in their hearts, and a mad fire lit inside their eyes. I stood strong, knowing fully well that this could be my last sight, and I embraced it fully. Until someone stepped in front of me.

Who on Earth is this, I thought to myself. Who would do this for me. Then I realized who it was. It was my other friend Jonathan. Thank God.

Jonathan was one of those people that everyone got along with instantly. He had a reputation for knowing pretty much everyone but not really belonging with any group. He was around my height, six foot one with black hair and glasses that always looked like they were going to fall off the bridge of his nose. And it suddenly hit me that he was getting ready to take all of the pain that was supposed to hit me.

Jackson's friends stopped in their tracks. If they harmed Jonathan, there would be hell to pay. Jonathan has a lot of friends, most of which would not be happy if somebody harmed him.

"Go ahead and try to hit David, and see what happens," Jonathan said boldly. "Just go ahead and try."

Jackson's friends went away, not wanting to risk war with Jonathan and his friends. "Next time David you won't be so lucky, you understand." I stared him down knowing fully well that what I did today will have consequences later down the road.

Jonathan stood looking at me like I was the dumbest thing on Earth. "Why the hell did you pick a fight with Jackson, huh? You know he could whup your ass in a heartbeat right?," Jonathan said to me as if I was unaware that Jackson could do that. "Don't become a dumb-ass after all this time ok and don't do this again. I don't wanna save your butt again."

"Look, he was asking for it ok. I am sick and tired of nearly getting the crap beating out of me over and over again, all for his petty hatred of me," I said with venom in my voice.

"David, nothing is going to change ok, Jackson is going to continue to do this and nothing is going to stop, and the school is going to continue to allow this since he is a good player. That is just the way of life," Jonathan said grudgingly.

I shot back, "Yeah well, it shouldn't be."

Jonathan lowered his head slowly as if in agreement. We went our separate ways, him to P.E. and me to Calculus. I went up the stairs to the second level of the school, and turned right. Me head was filled with thoughts of me finishing what I started today. It is time that little bitch had to pay for what he has done.

Couple of minutes later I was faking working on my assignment in Calculus, which I already knew the answer to each one due to me working on the concept one week prior, my brain was lapsing back into its old self, the one who was scared of everything, the one who was sad and full of hollowness and devoid of feeling. No, not again. I begged myself not to allow this to happen. I had fought a battle to get where I was today, and I was not about to lose it. Your life is worth nothing, not even to your parents, my thoughts whispered to me. Why try to fight when you can accept your fate?

I asked to be excused so I could go to the bathroom and left. Every step was one of torment, of agony and pain. When I arrived in the bathroom I went to a stall, sat down and cried.

I cried knowing that the voices in my head were right, that I was worth nothing, and that I should accept the inevitable. I cried knowing that while I had won a battle against depression, depression had won the war. I cried knowing that it was not Jackson who was going to kill me, but myself. I reached into my right pocket and pulled out a hunting knife, the knife that was given to me by my parents when I was 12, back when the world seemed better and brighter than it was before. I felt the familiar weight in my right hand and looked down onto the blade itself.

It was not a pretty thing but it did its purpose. It had a drop point and the handle was made of deer antler. I looked into the blade and saw myself looking back in the reflection, my true self, the self that was broken inside. That side of me was buried under so much, so so much. This was the me that I hid under jokes, and laughter, and never confronted. This was the me that I hated and loathed and wanted to die, the part of me that was never going to never leave. What am I saying, it was not part of me, it was me. When I saw that thing, I knew right then and there that I should end its life and be free from it. As I pushed the blade into my skin I knew. This was the end.