1.| New Beginning

Before The Fall

—————————————————————————

I slump in the passenger seat, trying to tune the bullshit my adoptive fathers spitting out.

He thinks he can lecture me about responsibility and honesty, but he doesn't know anything about me. He doesn't know what it's like to lose everything that matters in a blink of an eye. He doesn't know what it's like to be haunted by the ghosts of his past every day.

The car skids on the icy road, making me grip my seat, knowing he's driving recklessly because his anger has the best of him. I glance out the window and watch the snowflakes swirl in the air, covering the city in a blanket of white. It's supposed to be a beautiful sight, but all I see is cold emptiness. Just like my life.

"When were you going to tell me you've been skipping class, Ian?!" My adoptive father snaps, breaking the silence I made in my mind. His face is red with rage, and his hands grip the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles are white, and I can see his veins popping out.

Earlier this morning, my brother already warned me this was going to happen. I don't answer him though. I don't owe him any explanation.

He's not my real father. He's just some guy who took pity on me and my sixteen year old brother, and decided to adopt us. He probably thought he was doing a good deed, saving two poor orphan kids from a life of misery. But he didn't save us. He just made things worse.

In the movies and books, kids hated being seen as the charity case. But I wouldn't mind. That meant they'd feel sorry for me and give me some space to breathe for once.

"Ian, don't ignore me. You're about to make me start swearing." My adoptive father warns.

"Fuck off." I mutter and look away from him. Teens walk along the sidewalk, laughing and tossing snowballs. But when they notice me, they freeze, point, whisper, and laugh.

I wasn't always a bad teen. I used to be smart, ambitious, and hopeful. I wanted to follow in the footsteps of my father. My real father. The one who taught me how to play chess, how to ride a bike, how to dream big. He loved me unconditionally and made me feel safe and happy.

He's gone now. He died, and the world remembers him as a great scientist. Well, they say he's just missing. But that didn't matter to my mother though. She treated it as though he was dead, lost her mind and tried to kill two teenagers at my high school. Everyone calls her the local nut job.

Even though her attempts weren't successful, I somehow became known as the son of a murderer, and my brother gets bullied everyday in our high school. I'm glad he decided to stay home. He hates when me and our adoptive father argue.

The car jerks and I'm more than sure he swerved on purpose.

I fly forward, then fling back as he hits the breaks, bringing us to a halt in front of Rogan High's parking lot. Great. Now he's going to pull the, "I'm your father bullshit" and try to embarrass me in front of the students passing by.

His car door slams open. "I've about fucking had it." He spits out.

He storms over to my door and yanks it open. I unbuckle my seat belt, grab my backpack, and get out of the car.

I face him. "What do you want from me?!" I shout.

I'm tired of it all.

"To do better, Ian!" He jabs my chest with his finger and I smack it away.

"Stop it! Just stop!" I shout, feeling the anger burning inside me. Ever since my father disappeared and my mother went crazy, I've been holding it in. But I can't take it anymore.

My adoptive father throws his hands up. "Stop what? I'm trying here."

"Well I am too. But that's not good enough for you, is it?" I snap at him, throwing my backpack over my shoulder and heading for the schools entrance.

The snow crunches beneath my shoes and I stuff my cold hands in my pockets.

I know he's following me, trying to catch up. But I don't want to hear him anymore. I don't want to hear his fake concern, his empty promises or hollow apologies.

I just want him to leave me alone.

I reach the door and push it open, hoping to lose him in the crowd of students. But he grabs my arm and pulls me back.

"Ian, wait. Please. Let's talk about this." He pleads.

I shake off his grip and glare at him. "There's nothing to talk about. You don't get me."

"That's not true, Ian. I do care about you. You're my son." He says, and I already know I hurt him, but all I can do is push people away.

"No, I'm not. You're not my father. You're nothing to me." I turn around and walk into the school, leaving him behind.

I don't look back.

My psychologist tells me to give Jack, my adoptive father, a chance. But he's been making it too hard since the first day he came to pick me up.

She tells me to embrace the change, grieve and move on. But how can I move on when everyone in Arkum city reminds me every day of how fucked up my life is? How can I move on when I have nothing left to live for?

***

History class is the worst.

I sit at my desk, bored out of my mind. Ms. Darcy is droning on and on about some ancient war that doesn't matter to me. These days I hardly care about anything anymore but my little brother. I fail tests from purposely not trying, and If it were up to me, I wouldn't be here at all.

I'd probably drop out and become the opposite of what my real father was, then get a job that pays less than what he was making in a week to fend for me and Ivan.

Everyone called my father a brilliant man, the best damn scientist that worked at the Biotech Breakthroughs Inc. They experiment on our future; a place where big things happen like helping veterans grow limbs after wars that left them mutilated, creating serums to cure cancer.

They trample over every other research facility in Arkum, the place where everybody was a nobody.

I hear some of my classmates giggling and laughing behind me, and I turn to see what's going on.

My heart sinks. I see them handing a letter to my old friend, Rose, who I hadn't talked to in two years. Two years since my mother tried to kill three students, one of them being her.

Even though it isn't my fault, I feel like I would always remind her of the woman who almost took her life.

Rose looks confused, her beautiful brown eyes wide, and she tucks her long dark hair behind her shoulders as she reads. Her face turns pale. "This isn't funny."

She looks at me, then back to them.

What did they write to her? And why is she looking at me that way? All pitiful and apologetically.

I can't help but stand up and walk over to her, grabbing the letter from her hands. Ms. Darcy is oblivious to everything, she's still writing on the whiteboard while our other classmates are gaging the situation like animals sensing a fight.

Unfolding the letter hastily, I read it as fast as I can and feel my blood boil.

It's from Jake. The biggest asshole in the school. And that biggest asshole just so happens to be the brother of the other student my mother tried to kill. Jake was never nice to anyone. He was a bully that'd probably leave high school to sit on his couch and drink beer all day, abuse his wife, and neglect his kids.

I'm so angry from what I read, I find myself checking again.

[ Hey, has anyone seen Ian's mother? That's right, she's in the asylum probably trying to get out and kill another kid. What a crazy bitch. :p -Jake]

He has the fucking nerve to say something about my mother and it doesn't sit well with me.

I crumble it up in my hands and throw it, hitting him upside the head and yell the same question Rose asked earlier. "You think this is funny?!"

Jake stands up and says, "Was it funny when your mother almost killed my sister and scarred her for life?"

Our classmates start turning their chairs to get a better view and Ms.Darcy finally catches on. She turns to us. "Ian and Jake, sit down this instant!"

We ignore her and I move my chair out the way. I'm ready to fight and Jake knows it. "She didn't even kill anyone!"

Jake smirks. "Does that make it better? My husband goes missing, whine, whine, whine. So I tried to go kill someone's kid?"

My face twitches. I've always had a bad temper. It was why my father wanted to push me on the right path, keep me busy, hoping no one would be on the receiving end. With him gone, there was nothing holding it back anymore.

"And that's why your father is still standing in the grocery line while your moms mopping floors at the diner to pay for your tuition," I scoff. "I feel sorry for her. Working so hard to put you in a college you're never going to attend because you are a failure!"

He lunges at me, throwing a punch at my face. I dodge and hit him back, knocking him over a few desks.

I learned to street fight from all the times people tried to jump me within the past year for my mothers sins. This time they won't catch me slipping. This time, I'm strong enough to protect myself.

Jake growls and gets back up. I pissed him off.

He comes at me again, tackling me to the ground and punching me in the ribs. I manage to kick him off and get on top of him, pounding his face with my fists.

"Ian! Stop! You're going to kill him!" Ms. Darcy yells out, her voice wobbling.

But we don't stop. No. I don't stop. I'm too broken to stop.

I keep punching Jake in the face, feeling his blood on my knuckles and Ms. Darcy trying to pull me off while everyone else is gasping in horror.

I don't care if I break his nose, jaw, or skull. I want him to suffer. I want him to pay for what he said. They call me the son of a murderer and the broken part of me wants to prove them right. To bring my fears into a reality so I no longer have to fear them.

The teacher is still trying to get me off him, but she can't stop me. No one can stop me.

But then something happens.

A loud explosion outside makes the ground shake beneath my knees while I'm on top of Jake. The lights flicker. The sound of helicopters and sirens fill the air.

What the hell is going on?

Me and Jake look at each other, he's all blue and red and confused, and I know I'm probably looking the same way.

I get off of him and Ms. Darcy runs to the door. She blocks the small narrow window with paper and tape.

"Stay calm, and stay down." Ms. Darcy warns us.

Is this a terrorist attack? Is this a nuclear war?

I don't know what's happening, but it's bad.

Very bad.