Weeks went by, which eventually turned into months. Nothing much changed in that time, except Duke and Felicia becoming closer, and me receding farther away as a result. It couldn’t be helped; such a thing was usually inevitable in these types of situations, but the facts still didn’t bring me any farther away from the truth: Not only was I growing apart from them, I eventually became more and more disconnected from myself - and I had no one to reason with or blame it on. No one but me.


WARNING: Some parts in this chapter are extremely graphic and potentially disturbing. Please read this at your own risk.

Part Eight.

Journal entry #48.
January 11th, 1999.
Period 4.

First day back from Christmas holidays. Don’t ask me to elaborate on it because I won’t. There’s nothing to elaborate on. Christmas is a shitty deal, anyways. There’s always too much commercialism and not enough sincerity. What happened to the baby in the manger? What happened to the child of God Himself being born to this earth? Does nobody believe in miracles anymore? I’m not even sure if I do..


I began scribbling in the margin of the page in my notebook, unwilling to write anything more. A dull anger coursed through my veins as I stared absently into nowhere, wishing everyone and everything would just go away.

When the bell rang once again to dismiss our class, I slammed my books shut and didn’t even bother putting them away before walking quickly from the room. As I made my way down the crowded hall, I realized I didn’t know where I was heading - but I didn’t really care much, either. As I made my way outside and into the dull sunshine, my eyes fell on an empty table at the corner of the schoolyard. I hurried towards it, fixed steadily on my destination in an attempt to prevent making eye-contact with anyone.

Once I had reached it, I plunked all my books down on its cold stone surface and swung my bag off my shoulder, placing it on the empty place beside me on the bench.

“Fuck it all,” I muttered under my breath as I picked up my books from the table and slid each of them individually into my bag. Once they were all snugly inside, I zipped the bag shut and put both of my elbows on the table, allowing my chin to rest heavily in my hands.

I wasn’t sure what was currently worse: my dad beating my mom, or losing my only best friend. Deep inside I knew that I’d ultimately give anything to stop my dad from beating my mom, but losing Duke wouldn’t have helped those matters anyway. It didn’t help any matters, in fact. It just made everything worse.

I pressed my palms into my eyes and then ran both my hands up through my hair in exasperation.

Why was I even here?

I stood up, picking up my bag and slinging it over my shoulder before walking carelessly away from the school grounds. If I didn’t go home right away, no one would even know I wasn’t at school; the only class I had left that day was Career Planning and nobody ever seemed to care if you missed that class.

As I walked down the narrow path between the main school building and a chain-link fence that led to the back parking lot, I couldn’t help but second-guess myself and wonder if I was doing the right thing. What if the school did end up calling my house? I didn’t even want to think about what would happen if my dad ever found out that I was skipping school. I looked down at my feet as I walked, trying to force the thought from my mind and just focus on getting away from the grounds as quickly as possible.

Once I had reached the road at the end of the walkway, I turned right and began walking in the opposite direction of the school parking lot. I didn’t even know where I was going, but as long as I could find somewhere other than class to hang around until school ended, I honestly didn’t care.

“Ronnie!”

I whirled around at the sound of my name to see Duke clumsily weaving through several parked cars in the lot, obviously trying to catch up with me as fast as he could before I turned the corner and disappeared from sight.

“Ronnie, wait..!,” he pleaded as I made a motion to turn around and continue walking, so against my better judgment, I stopped and waited for him to catch up.

“Dude.. where.. are.. you.. going..?,” he panted as he jogged up to me, plainly out of breath from the run. “You’re not going home, are you..?”

“Of course I’m not going home,” I replied, as though this was something I did every day. “I’m just going somewhere that isn’t.. here.”

Duke looked confused.

“Why weren’t you hanging out me and Felicia?,” he asked, a tone of concern evident in his voice. “We were looking all over the place for you, you’ve been kind of quiet over the past few days and we were both starting to wonder..”

“Yeah, I’m sure both of your priorities were looking for me, right? If you were wondering about me, why didn’t you just come straight out and ask instead of ignoring it? And by the way, it’s ‘Felicia and I’, Duke,” I added, looking away from him as I spoke.

Duke was silent for a few moments.

“Dude, I wasn’t ignoring you, I—”

“Then what would you call it, Duke?”, I snapped, looking up into his eyes. “Forgetfulness? Neglect, maybe? You know what, I don’t have time for this, I’ll just see you later..”

I turned away and began walking in the direction I was originally going before Duke stopped me, but he ran in front of me suddenly, forcing me to come to another halt.

“Ronnie, listen.. listen to me, please, just hear me out..,” he pleaded, looking me straight in the eye with a tone of desperation in his voice as he put his hands out in front of him like he was going to try to stop me if I somehow tried to bolt.

“Listen, Felicia and I.. well, Felicia really is great and all, and I’ll admit we’ve been growing closer, but that doesn’t mean you and I need to grow apart.. seriously, you’re the reason I’m even with her right now, if it weren’t for you running into her that one day..”

His face broke into a tiny smirk as he paused, waiting for a reaction from me which never came.

“Look, dude.. I’m really sorry you felt ignored,” he continued in a much lower tone, “I really didn’t mean for this to happen, honestly.. you’re my best friend, Ron. I wouldn’t trade you for the world.”

I felt anger bubble up inside of me at his words.

“But you’d trade me for Felicia,” I said plainly through clenched teeth, “who obviously means more to you than the world itself.”

With that, I pushed past him and continued walking, not bothering to look back. After a minute or so I could only assume that Duke had finally given up, because silence was the only thing that followed me thereafter - and I was glad of it.

—

My feet dragged across the pebbles beneath me as I gently swung back and forth on an old cracked swing. It was getting dark and the park surrounding me began to look eerie in the gathering shadows, and the sky was overcast so there was no moon.

A billion different thoughts scuttled through my head like cockroaches as I stared at the shady ground.

Is Duke telling the truth? What does Felicia think? Was I being used this whole time?

I continued to stare into the shadows as a dim orange light on the empty building behind me flickered and went dim.

Would anyone even miss me..?

I shook my head to rid it of the foreboding processes that were beginning to take place now and decided that perhaps it was best that I headed home.

My footsteps made crunching sounds on the gravel as I stood up and began walking back towards the street that led to my house.

Once I reached my front yard, I stopped momentarily and listened closely to try and detect any sort of noise from inside that was indicative of my parents fighting.

All was quiet.

As I climbed the old weathered steps and slid my key into the brass lock on the front door, I felt strangely empty inside in a way I hadn’t felt in a long time. It was times like these where I’d have loved to have a stable family to fall back on, and now that Duke was gone, I had nobody. Nobody but my brothers, who had enough on their plates already, and I didn’t want to trouble them.

As I entered the dark kitchen and took off my shoes, a cold chill ran down my spine. Why was my house so quiet? Where was everybody..?

I flicked on a light in the kitchen, and as I neared the kitchen table to drop off all of my school stuff, I noticed something that nearly made me drop everything on the spot.

On the backs of two kitchen chairs, and spread all across the wooden tabletop was blood that looked as though it was dragged across these surfaces by dainty hands. The marks on the chairs indicated that the hands were gripping onto them quite tightly, perhaps in a desperate attempt to stay standing. As panic rose in my throat, I could only focus on one thing in those moments.

These were the marks of my mother’s hands.

I dropped my stuff and immediately bolted to the hallway, turning fully around once I reached it to go into my mother’s room, but the door was locked.

“Mom..?,” I called, hearing the panic in my voice spike a few levels. I knew I wasn’t going to receive an answer.

“Randy..? Erik?,” I called, trying to hold down the tsunamis of panic that were rising in me now.

But nobody else was home.

I knew there was someone in the bedroom, because the door could only be locked from the inside. I began frantically searching around for something I could utilize to break down the door.

Just then, I heard the front door being unlocked and opened a few moments later.

“Randy?!,” I called as I ran into the kitchen, washed with a mix of panic and relief all at once at the sound of my brothers’ voices.

“Randy, it’s mom, where is she,” I demanded, feeling my heart jump into my throat as fear crossed Randy’s face.

“She was.. here at home,” he stammered. “But dad isn’t here, he went out..”

Then Randy’s eyes fell on the kitchen table, and he didn’t even bother removing his shoes before running past me into the hall and reefing on the locked bedroom door.

“What the hell?,” he muttered as he stood back, seemingly analyzing the situation mentally while trying to come up with a solution and stay calm all at the same time.

“We’re going to have to break down this door,” he said, looking gravely from me to Erik, who was now standing beside me in silence. “Mom is in there.”

I quickly began searching the kitchen for a tool to quickly break down the heavy oak door, which I assumed had been around for several decades considering the age of our house, and while my eyes scanned the floor I noticed several drops of blood trailing from the table and chairs to the hallway.

“Here,” I said quickly as I grabbed the fire extinguisher from beside the stove. It was fairly heavy.

Randy held on to one side of the extinguisher while I held onto the barrel of it, and on the count of three the both of us charged at the door, smashing it off the hinges as it splintered and hit the floor with a loud crash.

The three of us stood in the doorway and stared into the dim bedroom.

“I’ll go first,” Randy said after a silence, motioning for me to set down the fire extinguisher and follow him inside. His voice was steady but his face looked scared.

I felt like I was about to be violently sick as we approached the bed on which my mother lay motionless, her head tilted oddly to one side. From her nose flowed streams of blood that ran down and covered her blouse and the sheets beneath her as well as her mouth, chin and both of her hands and wrists.

Randy made a quick motion to hold Erik back in an attempt to shield him from seeing the sight before us before looking desperately at me.

“I suspected this,” he said quietly, his voice tight and frail. “I should have acted sooner..”

I didn’t know what he meant until he turned from me and knelt at my mother’s side, prying open her right hand to reveal several small, irregularly-shaped white rocks. Her left arm hung loosely over the side of the bed, her hand open and limp, and just below it on the floor lay a tablespoon and what appeared to be a small straw-like tube. 

Then Randy leaned over and grabbed the blanket that was crumpled on the bed next to my mother’s limp frame. He looked at me once and hesitated as if he was afraid of what he was about to do. I looked at him questioningly before he turned away, pulling the blanket back to reveal something that caused me to stagger backwards and put my hand to my mouth in an attempt to prevent myself from throwing up.

My stomach lurched. Erik ran immediately to the phone to call 9-1-1 and Randy stood staring, in shock, at the pile of used syringes that lay there before us on the blood-soaked bedsheets.

I fled from the room as fast as I could in that moment, but I didn’t make it to the bathroom in time and threw up violently in the hallway.

**

It seemed that when the days went by easy, the nights were treacherous. I began to have trouble separating my dreams from reality as I struggled to break free from the barriers that held me hostage within my own damaged mind. The odds were against me; for me it was a losing battle, as each and every time I tried to escape I was left trapped inside, hopelessly clawing to get out.


WARNING: Some parts in this chapter are extremely graphic and potentially disturbing. Please read this at your own risk.

Part Seven.

I could hear him stumbling down the hall, and my heart pumped harder with every dull thump that resounded through the walls as he leaned his weight into them in feeble attempts to keep his balance.

“Come out here. Now,” he slurred as he came closer to my bedroom door with each heavy step he took.

I was cornered.

I huddled as far back into the shadows as I could manage as I sat on the top edge of my bed that touched where the two walls met and formed a corner of my room. My pillow was soaked with sweat and I gripped it tightly with both of my hands, praying that there was some way I’d be able to escape this.

But deep down I already knew.

My door swung open with great force as my dad entered my room. In one hand he held a soiled knife, and in the other he dragged my mother’s limp, mutilated body across the floor by her hair.

I tried to scream but I choked on my voice and ended up gagging instead.

“You’re next, boy..,” he mumbled as he dropped the body and advanced clumsily towards me with the knife still in-hand.

“R-randy..?! Erik.. oh, God.. God, help..,” I pleaded desperately as I thought about what he must have already done to my two brothers.

“G-God, dad please, no..!,” I sobbed as my dad finally reached out and grabbed my arm and dragged me towards him, nearly falling over onto my bed as he tried to stabilize himself. He smelled heavily of blood and old alcohol.

Then everything slowed.

I shut my eyes and cried out weakly as he drove the blade clean into the flesh of my chest right above my heart, and as I could feel my fluids draining swiftly from me and soaking the blankets beneath me, I looked up one last, agonizing time into the shadow of my father’s face.

A sick, sinister smile was the last sight I ever saw in those precious, last moments of life.

Then everything turned black..

I gasped as my eyes shot open and I bolted upright in bed, my breathing so quick and shallow that I could barely get a grip on myself.

“Dream.. it was just.. dream,” I panted as I shakily wiped the sweat from my brow and slowly came back to reality as I looked fearfully around my darkened bedroom.

The speed of my breathing heightened as I fell heavily back into my pillow, gripping my blankets tightly up near my face so hard that both of my hands started aching.

“Just a dream..,” I whispered to myself again as hot tears ran from the corners of my eyes and down the sides of my face, seeping into my pillow as I laid there and stared at the black ceiling. I made no effort to move at all for fear of something that I couldn’t identify, and the only sound in the room was my own shallow breath as adrenaline overpowered all of my senses and shook me relentlessly.

“Just a dream,” I repeated desperately to myself over and over again as I laid there in the bitter, screaming silence.

“It was all just a dream..”

—

“Ronnie..? Ronnie, wake up..”

I gingerly opened my eyes to the bright Saturday morning sunlight shining in through my bedroom window. It nearly blinded me.

“Ronnie?”

I turned my head to the side slowly to detect where the voice was coming from, and soon found myself staring up into the face of my older brother, Randy.

“What’s up, bro..?,” I said as I sat up slowly and rubbed my eyes.

When my vision finally focused on his face I realized that he looked worried.

“Something’s wrong with mom.”

Picking up his sense of anxiety, I quickly followed my brother out of my room and down the hall.

“She’s in the kitchen.. I dunno, something just doesn’t seem right,” he said quietly as he peered around the corner and signalled for me to do the same.

“She just looks.. happy,” I said as I observed the way she washed the dishes as though it was something she had looked forward to doing all week. “Isn’t that a good thing..?”

Randy was quiet for a moment.

“I’ve never seen her this happy,” he said with an extreme tone of uncertainty in his voice. “It just seems really unnatural for her.”

I shrugged.

“Maybe her and dad talked something out?,” I suggested hopefully.

“Are you joking?,” Randy scoffed. “If that’s the case, It’s about time. You have no idea how many times they’ve supposedly talked things out in the past. I think she knows the pattern by now.”

My heart sank. I knew he was right.

“Well.. where’s dad?,” I asked.

“He left early. I think he went down to the bar,” Randy replied. “There’s gotta’ be something wrong when he goes to the bar at sunrise. Nobody does that.”

I sighed. I would have suggested that maybe she was just happy because dad was gone, but she usually feared the moment he would return and would just sit around listlessly until then. Something was definitely different here.

“Whatever, maybe she’s just having a good day,” I finally concluded as I turned and leaned back against the wall, dismissing it from my mind. “I think I’m going to go wash up. You alright?”

Randy looked at me and nodded.

“Once Erik wakes up I’ll make breakfast for you guys, does that sound good?,” he asked just as I turned away. I turned and looked back at him.

“Sounds like a plan,” I replied, smiling.

Sometimes I felt like I would temporarily forget just how grateful I was to have my brothers. Even in the eye of a broken home, we still knew how to take care of each other.

I walked down the hall and into the bathroom, but my smile faded abruptly from my face when I turned on the light and noticed several drops of blood smeared on the countertop.

I checked the small garbage can that was located next to the toilet and noticed several bloody tissues that had been discarded there.

“Randy..?,” I called from the bathroom. “Can you come here for a minute?”

Randy appeared in the doorway moments later.

“Did you get a nosebleed last night..?,” I asked, slightly alarmed and hoping he could dismiss this mess somehow.

“No, not me..,” he replied, then hesitated for a moment.

“Shit, hold on a sec,” he said as he darted down the hall towards the kitchen.

I grabbed a facecloth from underneath the sink and ran it under hot water before wiping up the blood on the counter, and just as I was rinsing out the cloth afterward, Randy returned.

“It was mom. She said it happened in the middle of the night and she couldn’t see anything,” he explained. “You’d think turning on a light would have helped matters a bit..”

“Oh well,” I replied as I wrung out the cloth, relieved that it didn’t appear to be anything worse than a little nosebleed. “She was probably half-asleep, too.”

“Yeah,” Randy agreed, reaching out and taking the cloth from my hands. “I’ll put this in the laundry room for you.”

“Thanks, man,” I said as I observed the smile on his face before he walked away. Something about it gave me the strange feeling that Randy had a lot more on his mind than he let on.

—

It was Monday again.

I couldn’t believe a full week had already passed since Duke and I met Felicia in the cafeteria. Since then, Duke could rarely be seen without Felicia by his side, and in the end it resulted in all three of us becoming pretty good friends.

“So how long have you two known each other?,” Felicia asked as we all sat outside during lunch hour and enjoyed the sunshine.

“Since late last year, I guess. We had been in grade 9 A.P. Music Theory together for a while before we actually became friends, though. But then one day I saw Ronnie getting picked on by some other guys and I decided to step in,” Duke explained. “You know, freshman year.. what a nightmare.”

I laughed. I had to admit that my sophomore year had already been easier than the cannibalistic days of being a freshman.

“So what do you do in your spare time?,” Duke asked Felicia as she nibbled on a sandwich.

“Well,” she replied through a mouthful of food, “I work at the Black Bear Diner on Main Street..”

Duke’s face lit up at this news.

“Oh, we should come and visit you sometime!,” Duke exclaimed, making Felicia severely blush.

“Oh, I dunno.. I don’t work that often..,” she said quietly as she looked down at the grass.

“Well when you do, we’ll come see you, okay?,” Duke said reassuringly as he put a hand on her shoulder. She looked up and him shyly and smiled.

“Do you guys both want to go to a movie tonight?,” Felicia asked quickly, almost as if she was trying to change the subject.

“Sure,” Duke said before turning to me. “You up for that, Ron?”

I felt grateful that Duke seemed to want to include me in going to a movie even when Felicia was involved.

“Yeah, sounds fun,” I replied.

“Cool,” Duke said as the bell rang for class. “How about we meet here after school?”

Felicia and I both nodded.

Perhaps an evening out with friends is just what I need, I thought. It might be nice to feel like a normal teenager for a change.

**

The days after my anxiety attack left me wondering slightly about my own personal sanity. Nevertheless, I went to school and lived every day as normal, hoping that no one could tell just by looking at me that I was going through such internal struggles. I made a point of deliberately trying to man-up and bear with it, convincing myself that it would pass and that I didn’t need anyone to help me through it by any means. Consequently, I started to become more and more withdrawn from reality as time went on.

Part Six.

Journal entry #26.
November 24th, 1998.
Period 4.

Monday, bloody Monday. I’m sure glad the teacher doesn’t actually read these things or I’d be in a councillor’s office right now. I’m tired and worn out and I just want to slip into a coma. Whatever. Maybe I’d actually be at peace for once.

I met Duke outside of my English classroom after class to go to lunch.

“Hey, Ron.. how are you feeling?,” he asked as soon as I walked up to him.

“Fine.. just tired, I guess,” I replied, leaning against the wall and putting my books back into my bag.

“Ron, stop worrying. I don’t think you’re crazy,” Duke said as he noticed my lack of interest in answering his question.

“Duke, I passed out at your house and woke up in the morning to find a cold cloth on my forehead. I wasn’t even sick,” I said plainly. “For all we know, I’m probably psychotic or something and I’m not even aware of it.”

Duke looked at me sarcastically.

“Dude.. you had an anxiety attack. Big deal,” he said. “I’ve had them before. Maybe not as bad as yours was, but I’ve had them.”

I was just about to argue my point when I noticed Duke’s attention get drawn elsewhere as he looked away from me suddenly, his eyes seemingly focused on something specific. I should have known it was a girl.

“Holy shit, man.. look at her,” he said excitedly as he tried to direct my attention towards the girl he was staring at, who just happened to be walking towards us.

“Yeah, so? She looks like a nerd,” I said quietly, completely uninterested in talking about girls in that moment. The bespectacled girl was tall and lanky, and her wavy dark brown hair that fell just past her chin was clipped back in a small barrette to prevent it from falling into her eyes. She wore a plaid-patterned dress that extended just below her knees, allowing for a clean display of her long white socks that she wore inside her cutesy black strap shoes. She carried several books in her arms which made me think that she must be taking every class the school offered.

“Who cares, I think she’s beautiful,” Duke said stupidly as he watched her walk by. She must have noticed him staring somehow because she briefly looked over in his direction with a questioning look on her face.

“I have to talk to her, Ron,” he said desperately as he longingly watched her walk past us and down the stairs to the main floor of the school. I rolled my eyes.

“Let’s go get something to eat, Duke,” I said finally as I snapped him out of his trance and dragged him in the opposite direction towards the cafeteria.

The place was packed as usual, and as Duke and I neared the table where we usually sat for lunch, I noticed Duke looking around a lot more than he usually did.

“Dude.. chill out. She’s just a female. You look like a zombie,” I muttered as I sat down at the table and set my bags down. Duke sat down beside me and rested his chin in his hands.

“Do you think she might like me?,” Duke asked as he looked at me with an anxious expression. “What if she doesn’t dig guys with longer hair?”

“Duke, I’m sure she’ll go for any guy she can get,” I grouched, putting both hands to my face and pressing my lower palms into my eyes. “I’m so damn tired..”

“Ronnie, let’s go get lunch. I’m buying. Come on,” Duke said as he grabbed my arm and pulled me up from the table. I followed with a slight reluctance.

“What are you having?,” Duke asked as we joined the order line.

“I dunno, like maybe a salad or something. I’m not that hungry,” I replied.

I didn’t feel well. I felt frail and irritable, and even just standing up for any period of time was straining.

“Dude, just get me whatever.. I need to go sit down, I just really don’t feel well,” I said. Duke nodded, looking worried.

“Meet me back at the table,” I mumbled.

Turning away quickly, I tried to focus on clearing my head and just trying to relax. Unfortunately I was focusing too hard and walking too quickly because I ended up smashing into someone and getting hot soup spilled all over me.

“Dammit,” I cussed, flicking my hands by nature to rid them of the spilled soup and quickly holding my shirt away from my body to prevent being burned.

“God, I’m so sorry,” I heard a female voice apologize as she picked up her tray and attempted to gather up her scattered food items. “I’m such a clumsy idiot..”

I seemed to remember seeing this scene in a movie before. Now I was living it.

“It’s alright, it was my fault, I wasn’t really watching..,” I said as I grabbed some napkins from the condiments table behind me and began wiping the soup off my shirt.

“Do you want me to help you? I’m so sorry, I really am,” she continued as she stood up and grabbed more napkins. She had a heavy southern accent.

“No, I’m fine,” I said, finally looking up into her face. I felt my stomach drop ten feet.

It was the girl that we had seen earlier, only she didn’t seem so nerdy up-close. She still wore the glasses and the barrette, but she didn’t look so resigned and studious anymore - or at least not as she stood there and stared at me with the most mortified expression that I had ever seen. Her eyes were a gentle grey, her hair wasn’t as neat as I had seen it earlier, and her glasses sat askew on the bridge of her nose, making her look a lot more laid-back and casual. Maybe it had to do with the fact that she, like me, was also covered in soup.

“I’m Felicia,” she said quietly. “I can buy you lunch if you want.. you know, as an apology..”

“Thanks,” I replied, “but I really am alright. If anything I should be buying you lunch because you just lost it all over me.”

She smiled shyly at my remark, turning away just as Duke appeared next to me with a tray of food, almost dropping it as well.

“Whoa there, Duke.. don’t spill that on me, no offence but I’m really not in the mood for soup and salad right now,” I said as I moved away from him slightly.

Duke smirked as he looked me up and down, observing the mess.

“I’m not even going to ask,” he snorted.

Just then, Duke noticed Felicia as she knelt about five feet away from us, picking up her tray and arranging all of the remaining food items on it in a specific order.

“Oh, let me help you,” he shrieked as he shoved his tray at me and bolted to her side. I rolled my eyes again. Duke was such a girl.

“Hey, Duke.. meet me back at our table and bring Felicia with you,” I called as I began walking back to where I had originally intended on going before the collision.

“Felicia? Oh, Felicia.. wow, that’s a beautiful name..,” I heard Duke stammer behind me as I walked away, smiling to myself for the first time that day.

Once the three of us were finally sitting down again at our table, I began to realize how hungry I really was as I wolfed down the chicken-caesar salad that Duke had bought for me.

“So are you new here? You seem a little lost, I mean.. I saw you walking alone in the hallway earlier,” Duke asked Felicia as she sat across from us and nervously twirled a lock of hair around her index finger.

“Well, I guess you could say that I’m new,” she replied quietly.

“I guess that’s why I haven’t seen you in any of my classes then,” Duke said.

“Well.. not exactly.. you’re in the tenth grade, right?,” she asked.

“Yeah, both Ronnie and I are - hey, Ron, why don’t you say hello?,” Duke said as he nudged me with his elbow.

“Hello, Felicia,” I said, looking up from my plate briefly and suddenly realizing that I hadn’t even introduced myself.

“I’m Ronnie.. you can just call me Ron, or whatever - sorry I didn’t introduce myself earlier,” I apologized, feeling slightly idiotic as she looked back at me and smiled.

“Well it’s my pleasure to meet you, Ronnie,” she said as she absentmindedly tucked a stray piece of hair behind her right ear. “Again, I’m really sorry for running into you earlier.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I said as I looked back down at my salad, “a little bit of soup never hurt anyone.”

Duke laughed and then turned his attention back to Felicia.

“So do you want us to show you around a bit?,” Duke asked.

“No, I know my way around fine. It is our second year here, after all,” she replied. Duke looked confused.

“So.. you’re not new here?,” he asked slowly.

“Just as new as you are,” she replied quietly. “The only reason I’m not in any of your classes is because they decided to move me up a grade this year.”

“Why did they do that? Man, I wish I could be moved up a grade,” Duke muttered. “I can’t wait until Prom finally rolls around and we can finally get outta’ here!”

Felicia smiled.

“I guess they just thought I was too smart for the tenth grade,” she said as she looked away from Duke’s gaze. “I guess I am a bit of a nerd.”

I suppressed a laugh and fought back the sudden urge to say ‘I told you so.’

“But that’s what I like about you,” Duke blurted out, causing her to look back up at him. Duke’s face went slightly red.

“Well.. thank-you, Duke,” she said sincerely as she stared him straight in the eye and grinned.

I looked back up at Duke and smirked as he looked over at me with the most ridiculous beaming smile on his face.

“We should start heading to class,” Felicia said as she grabbed her bags and made sure she had all of her books. “Meet you guys here for lunch again tomorrow?”

“Sure,” both Duke and I replied almost simultaneously as we all stood up and I began gathering up my things.

“Alright, see you guys later!,” Felicia called as she hurried off across the cafeteria to her next class.

“Come on, Duke,” I said as I began walking toward the cluster of students flooding into the halls. Duke waited until she was completely out of sight before picking up his bags and following my lead.

“I owe you one, Ron,” Duke said as he caught up to me and patted me once on the back as we walked the opposite way that Felicia had gone in the direction of our lockers.

**

Now that Duke knew about my tainted home environment, I found myself struggling with a lot of mixed emotion. I almost felt bad for not telling him earlier, but at the same time I still wished that he never knew. I felt exposed, like everything I’d ever held inside was suddenly on display, and if my dad ever found out that I had said anything I’d probably be killed. But above all, my worst fear was that nobody could help me. It was out in the open now and I didn’t feel any different. I felt truly alone.

Part Five.

“I don’t know what to do, Duke..,” I whispered as I stared at my own tear-streaked face in the bathroom mirror while Duke cleaned my wound with antiseptics.

Duke was quiet for a while before speaking.

“I don’t know, Ron.. but whatever happens, you know I’m always going to be here for you..”

I sighed and closed my eyes, causing a few more tears to run down my face.

“He beats her almost every night, I don’t know why she even puts up with it.. and there’s never anything I can do to help her, sometimes I just feel like.. l-like I’m betraying her almost.. and she’s my mother..”

Duke put his hands on both of my shoulders in that moment, unknowingly making me acutely aware of the dull pain that still coursed through them.

“Ron, you don’t need to feel like that,” he said softly. “You just can’t go blaming this on yourself.”

“But what if I’ve made it worse, Duke?,” I asked. “I don’t know what happens to her when he finishes with me and then goes back to where she is. I don’t know if he takes the rest of his anger out on her or not, and if he does, then..”

I trailed off. I couldn’t go any further.

Duke stood still and quiet, and as I glanced at his face in the mirror I realized that he didn’t have any more answers than I did.

“Ron, it’s going to be okay..,” Duke said reassuringly, but it didn’t make me feel any better; if anything, it made me feel worse.

“Duke, you can’t say that,” I said irritably, feeling as though his words were empty and meaningless despite his good intentions. “Things haven’t been okay now.. for years..”

Duke looked like he was trying to find something better to say than what was really on his mind.

“Well, has it.. always been this way?,” he asked.

“Yeah, at least for as long as I can remember,” I replied, “.. unless it was all just some crazy nightmare that I’m still waiting to wake up from..”

Duke looked down.

“Why didn’t you tell me about this earlier?,” he asked, and I was struck suddenly with a cold stab of guilt at his words.

“I.. well, I just..,” I stammered, honestly not even knowing the full answer to his question myself. “I guess.. I just didn’t want anyone to know..”

Duke seemed to understand somehow because he didn’t inquire further.

“God, I feel sick..,” I said finally, closing my eyes again and wanting nothing more than to just run away from it all.

“Do you want to go lay down?,” Duke asked as he tossed the cotton balls into the garbage that he had used to dab at my wound and closed up the bottle of isopropyl alcohol.

“Yeah.. you’re not going to tell your parents about this, are you..?,” I asked.

“Not if you don’t want me to, I won’t,” Duke replied.

“I’d rather you keep quiet about it, you’re the only one who knows,” I said as I turned on the tap and rinsed my hands, splashing some water on my face again to try and rid it of the salty residue that was left from my tears.

“Alright, then,” Duke replied, throwing a towel at me when I raised my head. “I’ll be in my room, meet me in there when you’re done.”

—

I laid in bed that night on the floor of Duke’s room and stared at the dark ceiling. The only light that illuminated the four walls of the room was the dim light of the moon.

I felt alone in a way I had never felt alone before.

They say talking about it helps, I thought, but why don’t I feel any different? Is it because it just simply can’t be helped?

I rolled over onto my side and tried getting comfortable enough to fall asleep, but inside I felt restless and strange. Every time I closed my eyes I began drowning in an endless pool of sad and disturbed thoughts.

It will all be over soon, once your dad finds out..

I quickly became a helpless victim of the voices inside my head as they whispered falsehoods to me and persuaded me to believe them with incredible ease.

Because of you, he will beat her to death.. and you won’t be able to stop him..

I rolled over onto my other side as I began to panic and desperately willed the voices to go away.

It’s time to let it go..

My stomach began to cramp as I focused on the words that were playing over and over in my mind.

He will beat her to death..

It was closing in on me and I no matter how I tried, I just couldn’t let it go. I bolted upright as my body finally surrendered and locked into a full-on anxiety attack. In my panic I began to hyperventilate, disturbing the silence and causing Duke to roll over and click on his lamp.

“Dude.. are you alright..? What’s going on..?,” Duke asked groggily as he sat up in bed and squinted, rubbing his eyes as they gradually adjusted to the light.

“What if he beats her to death?,” I mumbled stupidly as I absentmindedly wrung my hands and gently rocked back and forth to try and quell the intense shaking that enveloped my entire being now.

“What..?,” Duke asked blatantly. “Ronnie, whoa.. calm down, man..”

Throwing his blankets off of himself, Duke swung his legs over the edge of the bed and then knelt down beside me and put one hand gently on my shoulder.

“Ronnie, what’s wrong..,” he asked, a tone of alarm slowly rising in his voice.

I didn’t even answer him, I just closed my eyes tightly and quickly shook my head.

“Ron.. you’re just having a panic attack, try to calm down.. breathe deeply,” Duke said as he put his arm around my shoulder to try and stabilize me. “Just breathe..”

I struggled to fight the feeling down, but it continued to mercilessly consume me.

“Just try to breathe.. nobody is going to die, Ronnie.. you’re perfectly safe here..”

I just couldn’t overcome it. I threw my head back and gripped the carpet with my hands, nearly pulling some of it apart.

“Nobody is going to die, Ron..”

Breath came in short, agonizing gasps. My mouth was dry, making it an even bigger struggle to breathe.

“Nobody is going to die..”

I was starting to feel faint. I looked over at Duke as everything distorted and began blending together, swimming in and out of focus before me.

“Ronnie..?”

I began to lose control. Slipping in and out of consciousness, I felt my whole body gradually become limp until I became aware of Duke’s hands fully supporting my neck and head.

“Ronnie..”

I heard the sound of Duke’s voice, distant and echoed, call my name twice before everything finally faded away.

“Ronnie..”

**

The days passed. I went to school as usual, and for the rest of the week I made sure to wear a beanie so that nobody could see the wound on my scalp. I didn’t know what would happen if anyone found out that I was being beaten at home, and frankly I didn’t want to. I’d lived with it this long; things had been the same since almost as far back as I could remember - and as far as I could tell, things weren’t about to change any time soon, either. At least not if my dad had anything to say about it.

Part Four.

“I don’t know why we’re even still learning about that old fart and his stupid outdated love stories,” complained Duke as we sat across from each other on the floor of his bedroom on Saturday morning with our guitars. I had brought over my acoustic and he had his electric hooked up to his Fender amp. “It’s not like he did anything really spectacular, really. By the sounds of it he was just another one of your regular, friendly neighbourhood.. psychos.”

I chuckled at the thought of William Shakespeare relaxing on the corner of some street in downtown Middleburg with a crack pipe in his mouth. I had to agree with Duke - even that would be more interesting than his crazy washed-out stories that we had to study almost every year. They never even really made any sense to me anyway.

“Do you want to take a break from jamming and go downstairs? I’m hungry,” Duke sighed as he absentmindedly scratched his forehead and set his guitar aside.

“Sure, sounds good to me,” I replied, setting my own guitar aside and making a motion to stand up.

Suddenly I was in pain again.

“Ow, oh.. man,” I groaned as I stumbled slightly while getting to my feet. My back was still killing me.

“What’s the matter?,” Duke asked, sounding slightly concerned as he watched my pained expression.

“No, nothing.. my legs were just a little sore from sitting for so long.. it’s okay, don’t worry about it,” I said nonchalantly and stood up relatively straight as I brushed myself off lightly with my hands.

Duke stared at me for a moment as if trying to decode me.

“Let’s go,” I said as I looked at him and smiled before turning and motioning for him to follow me out of his room and down the hall towards the staircase.

A few moments later, Duke followed.

—

“Whoa dude, it’s already 8:00 PM,” I exclaimed as I closed the door behind me and watched as Duke crashed face down on his bed.

“That’s Saturday for you,” I heard him mumble through his blankets.

It was then that I began to realize just how long it had been since we had really spent time together just hanging out. It seemed like forever since Duke and I just sat around and talked about anything and everything that was going on in our lives.

That is, everything but the abusive side of mine.

Duke sat up and crossed him arms, leaning against the wall with a stern look on his face.

“Do you wanna’ sleep over tonight? I have math homework to do and I think I might need your help,” he asked bluntly, then glanced at me with a sideways smirk as he continued in a much lower tone, “.. it also just might give us an excuse to hang out all day tomorrow, too.”

I laughed. If there was anyone that I knew that could find a practical use for mathematics, it was definitely Duke Kitchens.

“Sure,” I replied, a smile immediately spreading across my face. To me, the idea of finally getting some peaceful sleep away from home for once was huge.

“Do you want to call your parents?,” Duke asked as he leaned over and reached for the phone on his bedside table.

“No no, it’s alright. They throw fits if I don’t finish my homework, but they don’t seem to care much if I stay out all weekend. My parents are kind of weird like that,” I explained.

“Oh.. okay then,” Duke replied as he withdrew his hand from the phone and leaned back against the wall again. He looked slightly confused at my logic but didn’t say anything.

“You’re sure it’s alright with yours?,” I asked.

“Oh yeah, actually they mentioned the other day that you and I should study together more often. I’m sure they’ll be cool with it.”

“Alright, well I’ll be right back then, I’m just going to go wash up,” I said as I walked out of the room and around the corner to the bathroom.

“Okay, and I’ll just go tell my parents that they don’t need to drive you home tonight,” called Duke as he ran down the hall and disappeared downstairs.

Once I had entered the bathroom and closed the door, I took off my hoodie and rolled up the sleeves of my t-shirt to examine my arms and shoulders in the mirror. I ran my fingers gingerly along the bruises that adorned my right shoulder, then turned to examine my left.

I look like a leper, I thought as I gently pressed down on one of the bruises and winced at the responding pain. I don’t know how I’d even start explaining this if Duke were to somehow notice me like this..

I rolled my sleeves back down to cover the marks as I heard Duke come running up the stairs and past the bathroom as he returned to his room. I could tell that he was carrying a sleeping bag because of the noise that the material made.

Whatever, just don’t worry about it, I convinced myself as I turned on the tap and began splashing water on my face before grabbing a towel from the rack on the wall.

What are a few bruises, anyway? It’s not like I’m dying, I thought as I dried my face with the towel and then took one last look at my face in the mirror before opening the door and joining Duke in setting up my sleeping area.

“I hope you don’t mind sleeping on the floor,” Duke said as he rolled out the sleeping bag and stood up, grabbing a pillow from his bed and throwing it at me.

“No worries, man,” I replied as I caught the pillow just before it hit me in the face. “I hope you don’t mind getting your ass whipped with this pillow, either.”

Before he could even register what I said, I threw the pillow as hard as I could back at Duke and it caught him off guard, hitting him square in the face and causing him to stumble and fall back onto his bed. I was laughing so hard I could barely breathe.

“Oh, you asked for it, Ron,” he said as he grabbed another pillow and hurled it at me, missing only by a few inches. The pillow flew past me and hit the window, so I ran over and grabbed it, whipping it back at Duke as if it were a frisbee.

“You little bastard!,” he yelled as he got hit again, finally giving up on the pillows and lunging straight at me. I was laughing too hard to even try and fight back as he tackled me to the floor.

“Okay, okay.. you win,” I panted as I shoved Duke off me and sat up, ignoring the pain in my back and trying to comb my hair out of my face with my fingers so that I could actually see properly.

“You’re an ass when it comes to pillows, Ronnie, but I bet I could still smash you at arm wrestling,” Duke remarked, reaching out and swiping my beanie before raising a fist and slapping his opposite hand onto his forearm to make the ‘up-yours’ gesture while simultaneously throwing my beanie behind him. My first reaction was to put both hands to my head in defence, and when I drew them back, my fingertips were laced with blood.

The smile suddenly faded from Duke’s face as he glanced from my hands back up to my face with an expression of slight shock.

“What the.. hell?,” he stammered as he stared at me for a moment, then stood up and immediately walked behind me to examine the back of my head.

“Ronnie, you’re bleeding,” he said plainly as he parted my hair to reveal the considerably large wound on my scalp.

“Yeah.. it.. I guess it must have been reopened somehow,” I said quietly as I lowered my head and stared at the floor.

“Where did this come from?,” Duke asked, still observing the wound while I fidgeted and tried to come up with a quick and reasonable response.

“I.. I fell down the stairs the other day and hit my head,” I lied, hoping I sounded at least somewhat believable.

“Ronnie, your house only has one floor,” Duke replied bluntly.

“Well.. we do have a basement, I just never go down there,” I explained.

There was a pause before Duke spoke again.

“So how did you hit your head if you never go down there?,” he asked, and I realized that I was just going farther and farther in the wrong direction.

“Well I had to go down and look for something. It’s like our storage room.”

“And what were you looking for?,” Duke pressed on, and I suddenly got the sickening feeling that somehow Duke already knew what had really happened and was just trying to corner me.

“Look man, it’s not a big deal,” I said, trying desperately to change the subject while I nervously brushed my hair out of my eyes.

Just then, Duke grabbed my arm as I had it raised and held onto it firmly, quickly brushing my sleeve out of the way with his other hand to reveal the bruises.

I closed my eyes as Duke hesitated, still holding a firm grip on my arm.

“Ronnie..”

I could tell that Duke didn’t know how to handle approaching me in that moment, but after a short pause he continued.

“Ronnie.. has your dad been.. beating you..?”

I fell silent. I didn’t know what to say.

“Well,” I started, “it’s not.. usually me..”

I trailed off and swallowed hard.

“What do you mean?,” Duke asked quietly, obviously not fully understanding what I was trying to say.

“Duke..,” I spoke slowly and carefully, avoiding eye-contact with him as I struggled to keep my voice steady, “.. my dad beats my mom..”

Duke didn’t answer.

“Like.. a lot,” I said, trailing off as I heard my voice start to crack.

Duke stood up straight and walked slowly around me, silently resuming his previous position on the floor where he had been sitting before he got up to find the source of the blood on my hands.

I looked up at him briefly and then looked back down again as tears sprang to my eyes.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, Ron,” Duke whispered gently as he helped me to my feet and led me out to the hallway and into the bathroom.


**

I didn’t want to go home, but I knew I had to. Some things you just can’t avoid no matter how much you want to. I’ve learned that some things in life don’t have an alternative; they just don’t have the contrast of black and white. Sometimes you only have two choices: you either give in, or die fighting.

Part Three.

I tried to quell the shaking in my hands and legs as I opened the front door to my house and walked inside.

Please be asleep, I prayed silently as I set my bags down and began to untie my shoes. I became conscious of my panicked breathing and tried to steady it by inhaling through my nose and exhaling from my mouth. Just stay calm.

Suddenly I heard a noise from the living room. I jerked my head up and froze, staring at the figure walking into the doorway on the opposite side of the room from where I was. The figure then stood still and remained silent.

“Dad..?,” I whispered, hearing my voice falter and swallowing to try and keep my composure as much as possible. Without even thinking about it, I forcefully removed my remaining shoe and stood up slowly, almost as if I had been silently commanded to do so and obliged without question.

“You haven’t been completing your assignments, I hear,” he stated, his cold hard tone completely void of expression as he spoke to me.

“Dad, I.. I’ve—”

“Don’t you dare give me that load of bullshit,” he spat, suddenly more aggressive as he cut me off. I rendered myself to obedient silence.

“Do you think I have a reason to punish you?,” he inquired mockingly, knowing full well that a punishment was already in order. I didn’t answer.

Suddenly he walked sternly towards me. I backed up into a corner in fear as he pressed his face in close to mine and grabbed me by the collar of my shirt.

”Do you think I have a reason to punish you..?!,” he repeated angrily through gritted teeth as he watched me cower before him. “Huh, boy? Do you?”

I felt saliva spatter my face as he spoke, causing me to squint and subconsciously attempt to wipe it off with my hand, but he immediately grasped my hand with his free one, pinning it to the wall and causing me a sharp pain in my wrist. I flinched.

“ANSWER ME!,” he yelled and pulled me forward by my shirt, then in one swift motion, he shoved me up against the kitchen counter causing me to smash my head on the bottom of one of the cupboards. I cried out in pain and he took me by my shoulders and shook me, screaming obscenities to my face and tightening his physical grip on me with every passing second.

Then, just as it was all becoming far too much, he let go.

I stumbled to the floor, one hand immediately moving to the back of my head where I had smashed it on the cupboard. There was blood.

Tears filled my eyes as I looked back up at my father as he walked away, retreating into the living room without saying another word.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, my voice quivering and barely audible even to myself. “I’m s-sorry..”

With the last remaining amount of strength I possessed, I slowly crawled towards the hallway that led to my room, allowing the tears to fall freely down my face as I moved as fast as I could on my hands and knees. My wrist felt as though it had been sprained and sharp pains ran down my back from when I was shoved backwards into the kitchen counter. It was all I could do to prevent myself from collapsing before even reaching my bedroom, but I made it eventually. Once I came upon the threshold, I gripped my door frame to use as an aid to help me stand.

Then finally, while barely managing to stay standing without holding on to something for support, I leaned back against my door to close it and with one trembling hand, I reached down for the lock.

“One day this world is going to end, dad.. then m-maybe you’ll see..,” I muttered to myself through tears and gritted teeth as I leaned my head back on my door and closed my eyes.


**

Sometimes a fear can be overcome by being exposed to whatever it is that scares you. Being desensitized is one of the more common ways to deal with fears. For some it might be a gradual process that fades slowly, while others might find that they will have it conquered in a very short amount of time. As for me, I suffered with a chronic fear that couldn’t be cured. Not a day went by where I didn’t experience it, yet it still scared me as much as it ever did. I expected to suffer forever.

Part Two.

I awoke the next morning feeling unrested and troubled in a way I couldn’t really explain, but the feeling wasn’t that unfamiliar to me.

Getting up and walking to the mirror, I yawned and rubbed my eyes to clear them before examining myself through the glass. I looked exhausted. My eyes were red and my whole face looked oddly swollen, almost as if I was taking an allergic reaction to something. I always hated waking up on a school day after I had fallen asleep crying the previous night. Something always seemed different about the way I looked and I’d always get questioned about it.

“Ronnie..?,” my mom hollered at me from the kitchen, “I’m leaving for work now, make sure you get your brothers up and off to school, okay?”

I sighed and reassured my mother that I had everything under control, just like always. Even though I was the middle-child, I seemed to be the only morning person in the house when it came to my siblings. It was always my job to be in charge of not only waking up my little brother and getting him going in the morning, but my older brother as well. Hearing our mom say goodbye and close the kitchen door every morning always made me feel sick to my stomach; I knew that she was holding up a facade, not so much for us kids, but primarily for herself. She seemed convinced that even after being beaten by her husband as she so often was, that everything in reality was really okay. I knew that deep down she must know the truth, she had to, but she was simply scared to face it. Scared to change the way things have always been. Scared to move on from all of this and begin a new and better life.

I closed my eyes. Turning away from the mirror, I finally forced the disturbed thoughts from my mind and headed to the bathroom to wash up and begin my normal morning routine before school.

It was just another day, after all.

It always was.

—

“I want each and every essay placed neatly in the hand-in folder on my desk. They will be marked and handed back to you by early next week, when you will be required to get a parental signature in order to get your full mark,” announced my teacher, Ms. Morgan, at the beginning of last period.

I sighed and put my head down on my desk, covering my face with my arms. I hated my teacher, I really did.

“Winter? Are you paying attention?,” she suddenly asked in a voice loud enough that I’m sure three other classes were able to hear. Unfortunately, she was talking to me.

“Yes, Ms. Morgan?,” I answered in the most calm tone I could manage. I knew this wasn’t going to be pretty.

“It seems as though you are the only student in the class that did not hand in your work. Do you have it done?”

I looked down.

“No, ma’am,” I muttered quietly.

“And why not? There have been several times now where you have not handed in your assignments. Is something the matter?,” she asked in a bitter, apathetic tone of voice. I bit my tongue and clenched my fists to prevent myself from nearly losing it.

“No ma’am, nothing is the matter,” I lied. The last thing I needed was for Ms. Morgan of all people to find out about my life at home.

“Alright, I will be calling your parents today then, perhaps they can explain some things,” she said as she gathered up the rest of the essays and fitted them neatly into their folder. I heard a few people in the class laugh and mutter things to each other under their breath. I decided not to say anything at all and fell silent again as I miserably laid my head back down on my desk and started scribbling in my notebook.

Journal entry #22.
November 20th, 1998.
Period 4.

I hate my life.

—

“Hey man, what’s up?,” Duke asked, jogging alongside me as I walked through yet another crowded hallway towards the back entrance of the school. I was walking faster than normal and didn’t want to make eye-contact with anyone. Of course, Duke was always the first to notice when something was wrong.

“Nothing, I just have a lot of homework,” I mumbled, continuing to stare straight ahead of me as I walked. Duke didn’t buy it.

“Did something go wrong with your dad again or something? You’re never like this,” he stated bluntly as we passed through the doors that led out into the parking lot. Duke knew vaguely that my dad wasn’t the nicest guy in the world, but he didn’t know too many details. I was the only one that knew everything and I wasn’t about to break that to anyone, not even my best friend.

”No Duke, okay? I said I had a lot of homework, can’t you just drop it?,” I snapped. An expression of hurt suddenly washed over Duke’s face, and I immediately regretted talking to him in the tone that I did.

“Look.. man, I’m sorry.. today was just.. not a good day..,” I stammered, looking away from him as I spoke. “I didn’t mean to snap at you, I don’t know what came over me.”

I looked back up into his face, and to my surprise, he smiled.

“Don’t worry about it Ron, I understand,” he said gently, putting a hand on my shoulder as he spoke.

I knew he didn’t understand, at least not specifically, how could he understand if I never told him anything? But that was no one’s fault but my own. Duke was the only person in the entire world that I could imagine putting up with all of my shortfalls and still unconditionally wanting to be my friend - regardless of the way I acted towards him.

“Thanks, man..,” I said quietly. “We should jam this weekend, maybe.. I’ll see what I have planned.”

Duke’s face lit up at the suggestion, and I smiled as we said goodbye and parted ways to go home.

But inside I wasn’t smiling.

I dreaded the moment I would walk in the house and find my dad beside himself with fury about the phone call from the school. I just hoped that today would be one of those days when he was passed out drunk on the couch again.

Days like that weren’t at all uncommon in my house.


**

I stood and stared at my own reflection in the wall mirror. My dark brown eyes appeared warm and friendly, softly complimenting the gentle medium-brown color of my hair that reached just past my shoulders. The warm afternoon sun shone in through my bedroom windowpane and lit the area of the floor on which I stood. Absentmindedly brushing my long hair away from my face, I smiled. Life was good when nobody could see the stains.

Part One.

Journal entry #21.
November 19th, 1998.
Period 4.

There are times in life when you wish you could just wake up and realize that nothing you’ve ever feared in life really exists at all. There are other times when you wish you could just go to sleep and stay there in your little dream world until everything else passes on. But then there are times when you’re not sure where you’d rather be. What happens when you begin to look forward to your own nightmares just because you know they’re not real? What happens when you’re more scared to wake up from a nightmare than to be trapped there forever?

I flinched as the bell rang suddenly, dismissing my Grade 10 English class and snapping me abruptly from my trance. I shut my notebook quickly as people walked by my desk, heading toward the classroom door to leave.

“Essays are due next class, any and all lates will not be accepted and will result in you receiving a zero!”

I barely heard what the teacher was saying as I packed up my things and exit the classroom, joining in the flow of noisy students in the hall. My mind was always elsewhere.

“Hey, Ronnie!”

I turned at the sound of my name to see my friend Duke running down the hall towards me, nearly knocking over three different people in his wake. I had known Duke Kitchens since the year before when he had taken me under his wing and defended me against a group of other guys who had been making fun of me for the “hardly masculine” length of my hair. Since then we had become like brothers, Duke and I - and by now I was used to his antics, but I still couldn’t help but laugh quietly to myself at the sight before me.

“Hey..!,” he yelled as he finally jogged to a clumsy stop next to me. “Dude.. wanna’ jam.. tonight..?,” he asked stupidly, half-smirking and completely winded as he stood hunched over with his hands propped just above his knees, trying to catch his breath as he stared up at me and waited for an answer.

I stared down at him and half-laughed in disbelief.

“Um.. tonight.. you know, I’ve got a lot of homework to do.. maybe another time, man.. sorry,” I apologized, knowing how excited he must have been when he saw me walking way ahead of him through a huge crowd of people just moments ago. I felt bad for letting him down, but I knew that if I didn’t get that essay done I’d be in big trouble. I hadn’t even started.

“Alright bro, cool beans,” Duke sighed lightly as he stood up straight again and brushed his flaxen bangs out of his eyes. “I guess I’ll talk to you tomorrow then?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you in class,” I said, lightly patting his shoulder as he walked past. He turned around and smiled at me once more before disappearing around the hallway corner.


The walk home was long as usual, and by the time I reached my house the sun had faded from view almost completely. I walked up the cold stone steps that lead to the front door of the place I called home and hesitated slightly before opening the door.

“Just walk in and go straight to your room, they won’t notice,” I whispered to myself as I turned the knob slowly and walked quietly into the kitchen.

—

It was 4:00 AM and I couldn’t sleep.

Laying on my stomach underneath my blankets, I guided the beam of a dim flashlight along the page of my english textbook that I was supposed to write an essay on for the next day. But my own page remained blank. No matter how I tried, I just couldn’t concentrate.

“I’m telling you right now girl, that if you don’t get in that room right now and do what I tell you, you’ll regret ever talking back to me and wish for your life that you had listened to me in the first place,” a man’s voice rung out through the walls. I didn’t even want to call him my dad. “Go ahead, say it again. I dare you. Say you’re right again. SAY IT!”

I shut my eyes tightly as I heard a scream of fear and someone being hit and shoved to the ground. More blows resounded down the hall and I covered my ears with my hands in a desperate attempt to block out the noise.

“Please don’t come in here, please don’t come in here, please..,” I pleaded under my breath as I heard the sounds coming closer and closer to my bedroom door. Overcome by adrenaline, I quickly shut my books and set them on my bedside table, and my hands shook with pure panic as I fumbled to turn off the flashlight.

“Please, please! Please don’t hit me again, I-I’ll do whatever you ask, just p-please stop hurting me..!” I heard my mom beg fearfully between sobs.

Suddenly I dropped the flashlight and it hit the floor with a loud clatter. Everything went quiet.

I froze. They had heard me.

Laying down quickly and pulling the blankets over me to make it look like I was sleeping, I couldn’t stop my whole body from shaking, nor could I prevent myself from suddenly breaking into tears and sobbing in sudden, short outbursts as I listened to the lethal, agonizing silence outside my bedroom door.

I guess I should have been used to it by now.

Yet still, every time it happened, I always felt like there had never been a point in my life where I had ever been so incredibly scared.


**