Cloudy With A Chance Of Violence (3)

"What!?" An angry-looking housewife swings open the door. It passes unreasonably close to Josh's head, but no one seems to notice.

"I'm home."

"Do you have the money I asked for?"

"I already gave you most of what I had."

"Shut up and give me the rest of it." She bends over and snatches the pouch of money from Josh's waist. With a satisfied expression on her face, Josh's mother walks back into the depths of the home. Rage froths up from inside me, but I do my best to suppress it.

[I didn't know things were this bad. We should have come sooner.]

I'm not sure what I'm going to do, but I'm sure I'll figure something out. We all follow her into the well-lit house. The inside of Josh's home is actually well decorated. There's a lot of fine wood furniture, giving the interior a very warm feel. The whole house is neatly organized; numerous shelves around the perimeter of the floor hold all kinds of sculptures and ornaments.

"Hey, Josh, did you make any of these?" I ask, gesturing broadly to the trinkets around the house.

"No." Josh continues walking to the kitchen.

"If you're hungry, then make something for yourself." His mother's voice is cold, and she doesn't even bother looking at her child as she speaks.

'Twitch'

I feel my eyelid quiver. My mind begins racing with all the things I could do or say in this situation, but I hold it in.

"I'm not hungry," Josh responds.

"Who are these people?" A man, who I presume to be Josh's father, walks into the kitchen. He looks at us with a frown as if he's looking at trash.

"These are my friends."

"They must be pretty big losers to be friends with you."

'Twitch, twitch'

The spasms in my eyelid are getting worse.

[Deep breaths.]

"That's not very nice." Josh tries to put up a defense but doesn't know how to respond.

[The world is too cruel for you. Hate begets hate, pain begets pain. I wonder how long he's put up with this kind of treatment and how much longer he can last. This certainly explains why he wouldn't even talk when we first met.]

It's heartening to know that he came out of his shell. That being said, this type of abuse will build up to a breaking point unless he has an outlet.

"Why don't you stop getting in the way and go outside with your brother?" His mother's sharp tongue again cuts through the air. Josh lowers his head and walks out the back door. Sakura glances at me before doing the same. I follow them, lost in thought.

"Where have you been? You're supposed to clean up the backyard." A boy is standing outside, berating Josh. I assume it's his brother based on his appearance. The backyard is filled with partially carved pieces of stone and wood; furniture, columns, arches, bookshelves, and anything a house could need is spread around the area.

[Josh's family doesn't seem very wealthy, so it's odd that their backyard is so big. I guess they need the space for their work.]

"Wow, did you make any of this?" I ask Josh as I look around. It's easy to see where he developed his skills.

"Yes, most of them. My father doesn't carve very much anymore. He says his hands hurt too bad because he's old."

[Passing all the work onto his children, what a piece of shit.]

"Hey, what's that?" My eyes are drawn to a large uncarved stone placed in the far corner. The circular shape is only broken by several grooves on its surface.

"That's where I practice," Josh responds.

"Hey, are you even listening to me?" Josh's brother yells.

"Practice what?" I ignore his brother and continue the conversation.

"Swinging my sword."

"Isn't that going to dull the blade?"

"I use wooden swords." He replies casually.

"Then that means…." The grooves have been eroded by him swinging his sword against the rock over and over again. A feeling of shock and horror rises up the back of my neck. "Josh, how often do you practice?"

"A few hours per day. I have to do a lot of work around the house, so sometimes I stay up late to practice." A collage of pictures sweeps through my mind. I see Josh cleaning the dishes and sweeping up the yard while being berated by his family. He does as he's told for years, slowly closing himself off from the world. Then one day, he's given a chance to become strong, to change his fate. All those years of sadness and heartache finally have a release. This rock. I turn to see a pile of broken wood swords lying on the ground. From a distance, they appear to be mammoth wood which is absurdly tough. How many swings does it take to break one? I think back to when we first met and how bloodied his hands were.

[Is this why his hands were bleeding so badly? Has he been grinding himself down every day against this stone? How much has he suffered to bring him to this point?]

Josh is always so well put together. I never really stopped to think about what he might be going through. Even after becoming successful, his family sees it as an opportunity to relieve themselves of responsibility. Now that they have Josh making money, why work? The frothing rage fills to a boil. I can feel the blood pumping through my arms, and my fists clench into solid spheres.

'Whack!'

"Hey, don't ignore me." Josh's head turns to the side as he's struck by his brother.

'Twitch, twitch, twitch'

I feel something break inside me. All the built-up anger descends into malicious apathy. A smile dripping with malintent slides up our faces.

"Hey, I'm Nick. Nice to meet you. I don't think I caught your name." We step forward and approach our prey.

"I'm Victor," he says as he crosses his arms. It seems he's feeling pompous now that someone has finally acknowledged his existence.

"That's great!" The ends of our mouths extend upwards as our smile thickens. "I just wanted to ask you- Woah!"

I slip my left foot behind my right to knock myself off balance. I make sure to time it just as I'm within arm's reach to ensure a direct hit. I flail my arms, about to cover up the fact that I'm aiming my elbow directly at his face.

'Crunch!'

I can feel the bones in his nose shatter under the weight of my forearm. Blood flies everywhere as he falls backward onto the ground.

"Oh, I'm sorry, that was an accident. I really should watch where I'm going." I maintain my fervent expression and help him to his feet. Blood is running down his face, and he's on the edge of tears. I brush him off and then stomp on his left foot, making sure to aim for the toes.

"Gah!"

"I'm so, so sorry. I'm just so clumsy." He falls back down onto the ground, and I act flustered, but I keep grinning.

"Nick, what are you doing?" It looks like Sakura has caught onto my little scheme and runs over to stop me. She doesn't make it far before she begins to stumble as well. I can see a cruel smile on her face as she raises her knee and drops her full weight onto Victor's stomach. "Oh, I'm so sorry."

"We're just so clumsy today." I go to help him up again, and he staggers to his feet.

"Are you okay, Victor?" Josh steps forward to check on his brother.

"He's fine, isn't that right?" I wrap my arm around the back of his neck and cover his mouth with my hand. His eyes are wide with fear as my fingers dig into his cheeks. I move his head up and down to make it look like he's nodding. "See? Of course. After all, it was just an accident. Sometimes you're just going through your day, and accidents just happen to you. Maybe you're just walking down the street, and BAM! You have an accident."

I let go of him and smile brightly into his terrified eyes.

"Why don't we head inside and get you cleaned up? We wouldn't want any more accidents to happen, right?" He vigorously nods his head up and down at my suggestion. "Of course. Why don't you lead the way."

Victor quickly shuffles into the home, and the kids follow after. I pull out the strengthening potion while no one is looking, and down it—energy bursts forth from my chest. I correct my posture and enter the home with a fierce smile.

"Victor, what happened?" I hear his mother cry out. I slide up next to him and grip his shoulder hard.

"He just had an accident, isn't that right?" He nods again. Tears trickle down his cheeks from my grip. "Of course, of course. Why don't you get yourself cleaned up?"

He leaps at the chance to escape and runs off without saying a word.

"What did you do to my son?" His mother looks at me with hate in her eyes. A vindictive pleasure soothes the rage boiling in my stomach, but only slightly.

"I'm sorry, I haven't gotten your name. I'm Nick." I make an over-exaggerated bow to go along with my introduction.

"Cara," she says flatly.

"Cara, what a beautiful name. Cara, why don't we sit down and talk? How about that?" I pull out a chair at the kitchen table and invite her to take a seat. She glares daggers at me, but it does little to break my threatening smile. Eventually, she obliges.

"Well?" She looks at me with her arms crossed, clearly expecting an apology. The strengthening potion has taken full effect, and I feel my blood rushing through my veins.