Young Writers Society

Brannan / 75

PROLOGUE

Bacon. Just one word and I was up. Usually it takes me hours to drag myself out of bed, but the smell of crisping bacon has always been my weakness. I tore off my blanket and bolted to my bedroom door. I pushed it and was about to enter the kitchen when I realized I was still in my underwear. I ran back and yanked on a shirt hanging on my bedpost and threw it on. I picked up some shorts off the floor and, after sniffing them to check how dirty they were, decided they were fit for wear and slipped them on. As I strolled into the kitchen, I saw my dad was standing at the stove cooking up my delicious breakfast. He didn’t notice me come in, so I used that to my advantage. I got a running start, and leaped right on his back. Somehow, he knew exactly what my plans were, because he turned around right as I jumped. He let out a large grrrr sound as he almost broke my ribs with one of his world famous bear hugs.

“Thought you could sneak up on me, huh?” he said as he carried me over to the table.

“Oh,” I exclaimed as he sat me down at the table, “one day I’m gonna get you real good, you’ll see."

“I’ll be waiting," he said, then he walked back to the stove. As he made our plates, I studied my father. His jet black hair was a mess and you could tell by his thick beard he hadn’t shaved in days. I hate that beard. It always scratches me when he kisses me. He was super tall, shooting way over me. Well, a nine-year-old isn’t that tall to begin with but even to grown ups he towers over them. Everyone else says that I look exactly like him, but I don’t see how. I don’t even have a beard. Dad says I look more like mom, but I don’t remember her too much.

My dad walked over to the table with two plates piled high with eggs, toast, and, loads of bacon. I was jumping up and down repeatedly as he sat down, and he slightly smirked when he saw the excitement on my face. He put both plates down and took a stab at my plate. He looked at me before he took the bite, seeing the horror on my face as my heart was crushed.

“Oh, did you want some too?” he played as I slowly realized that he was just messing around.

“Gimme that!” I laughed as I reached across and took what was rightfully mine. My dad chuckled as I stuffed my face with two whole slices of bacon.

“Easy there turbo, your food’s not going anywhere," he said as my bacon disappeared from my plate all together.

My dad just sat and stared at me as I ate. After a while he rolled his eyes and looked down at my shirt.

“Nice hole you got there”

I looked down to see that a large hole had appeared in my shirt. I must’ve ripped it when I yanked it off my bed post.

“It’s okay,” my dad chuckled, “I bet we can try and sew it up later. Just finish up eating. We got things to see and places to be!” He got up and started for the sink.

“Where are we going?”

“Well, I was thinking you might want to go see that new Iron Man 2 movie. It is opening weekend, after all," he said with a smirk.

“Really! But it’s PG-13. I thought you said I’m too young for it?” I exclaimed.

“Well, maybe just this once," He grinned as he started walking back to the table.

I ran over to him and jumped in his arms screaming, “Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!”. He laughed and sat me back down at the table. “And I won’t even listen to any of those bad words daddy, or say them! And I won’t hit kids at school like Iron Man, and if they kiss and stuff I’ll cover my eyes! Promise!” He just looked at me and laughed.

“I believe you,” He said playfully as he sat back down, “but if you want to go you need to hurry your butt up!”.

I giggled. As I shoveled the rest of my food in my mouth, I noticed my my dad look at me funny, as if he were about to sneeze. Then he jolted upright, flinging his head back and sucking in a deep breath, as if someone had punched him in the gut. He clawed at his chest, as if he all of a sudden he got some very serious heartburn. He looked around the room as if he had never been here before. He had a serious, dedicated look in his eyes. Then his gaze caught me, and I saw his eyes widen.

“Daddy! Are you okay?” I exclaimed.

He looked at me for a second, then sighed. He stood up from the table.

“Daddy?”

He walked over to me. “I’m fine Jay, just fine,” he said as he opened out his arms. “I just really need a hug."

I saw his eyes fill up with tears, and I jumped up to meet his arms.

“Don’t be sad dad. It’s okay. If you don’t think I’m big enough for that movie yet, that’s okay. I got my comic books, I don’t need no stinkin’ movie.”

He looked at me, confused. “What movie...oh, right. I was taking you to see Iron Man,” he said as if he had completely forgotten about it. “No, buddy, it’s not that. You’re plenty big to see it."

“Then why are you sad?”

He put me down, grabbed my shoulders and looked into my eyes. “I can’t explain that just yet Jay. All you need to know is that you need to come with me." he explained.

“What?" I said him, “Are we going to the movie now?”

“No." he explained as he walked over to the kitchen counter, “I just need you to trust me.” He opened a drawer and started searching through it.

“Dad?” I said, confused. “What are you doing?”

“Protecting you."

He found what he needed. As he turned around, he took out the pistol’s magazine and saw that it was empty. I was too confused and I didn’t move when he motioned me over.

“I need to find ammunition,” he stated, “let me go check in my room.” He said this as if he didn’t know if the bullets were there or not.

He walked into his room, and I heard him rummaging around a bit before he walked back out, giving me a forced smile and sticking the magazine inside the handle.

“We have to go now.” he told me.

“But where?” I asked as I came up next to him.

But before he could answer, a loud thunder-like crack came from outside. A flash of black light shone through the windows and then darkened as if it suddenly became nighttime, then the darkness spread throughout the house, draining the room of all light to the point where I had to squint to be able to see. I felt a large shockwave throughout my body and it seemed like the rest of the house as well. The walls shook slightly and I had to take a minute to regain my balance. The front door burst open as my dad stared out the windows in horror.

“NO!” my father screamed, his face terror-stricken, “Jay! Hide!”

I ducked under the table while my father went to investigate and held my breath as my dad discovered what had broken the door. A large man in a jet-black suit of armor stormed through the door, looking like he came straight out of a comic book. He was strapped with all sorts of guns and other weapons, his bandolier lined with throwing knifes and two extra pistols. He also had a thick belt wrapped around his waist that contained pouches of ammunition, hand grenades, and another pair of pistols. Both legs had pistol holsters attached to the calf and the thigh as well, resulting in a total of eight visible handguns. Sticking out of his back was the end of a fancy looking shotgun as well as a futuristic-looking black sword. His suit consisted of very advanced looking militaristic armor, and he had extra protection around vulnerable areas such as the chest and joints. His gloves were armored as well, and they covered his forearms in a pattern of sharp triangles up to about the middle. His boots had the same pattern, with three triangles that went upwards and covered up the lower portion of his shins. He was very built, with defining features such as broad shoulders and thick biceps standing out. The triangle pattern seemed to be a recurring theme, as his stomach had the same design of three sharp triangles that overlapped upwards. But the masked helmet is what I noticed over all. His helmet was all metal and solid black, and there were no other markings on it yet I could tell it was molded to resemble a skull. The sides of the mask on the lower portion was flat and facing outward which created the skullish vibe. Three triangles were placed over where the mouth should’ve been in the same pattern as the other one did. The spot where his eyes should have been was like an endless abyss of black, and no matter how hard you looked into them all you could see was the darkness. The eyes were slanted into a menacing scowl that produced an aura of evil around him. The mask, although simple, still found a way to terrify me in every inch of my body. As the masked man scanned the room, he thrust out his hand as a faint glow of black, smokey-like light radiated from him. I watched as one second he was just standing there, then a blur flew past my eyes and then he somehow was in the kitchen with me and my father.

“You’re not supposed to be here!” my dad yelled, startled by the sudden appearance in front of him. “How are you here?”

The man laughed. His voice was distorted, with a raspy tone that gave it a dark and brooding sound. It was just as terrifying as everything else. My father tried to attack him, but the masked man caught my father by the throat, lifting him up above him with one hand and slamming him into the wall. He was unnaturally strong. “Richard, Richard, Richard...did you really think that you had the upper hand on this one?” the masked man said. “You must be dumber than you look."

My dad grabbed the masked man’s hand and kicked him in his kneecap. It didn’t affect the man physically but it made him drop my father, and as he fell the man’s glove slipped off his right hand, still in my father’s grasp. He looked over to me under the table, then back to the masked man. “It’s too late! I’m doing this and you’re not stopping me!” He ran over towards the table before the masked man could grab him and picked me up in his arms.

He attempted to get away with me and aimed the gun in the masked man’s direction, then pulled the trigger. But then it seemed like the entire room seem to lurch forward and everything began to look really hazy and blurry. I saw that the masked man had stopped moving and was looking around. He must’ve noticed it too.

But my father on the other hand wasn’t moving. He was stuck in the same position, gun raised in the masked man direction. His expression was constant, and he didn’t appear to be breathing. I struggled to get out of his grasp but realized that I couldn’t move. I tried to push myself out of his arms but failed to do so. He was frozen in place, and I was stuck in his arms.

“Dad, what are you doing!” I yelled, but I got no response.

But the craziest sight was the object between us and the masked man; a bullet frozen in midair. The bullet glitched back and forth at random intervals, as if it couldn’t decide which position to be in, but only by a couple inches. The masked man walked up to the used ammunition and stared at it in curiosity. He reached up and picked it out of the air, and the projectile laid still in his hand. He then threw it off to the side, but only for the bullet to freeze in place again as soon as he let go.

The masked man noticed my father’s sudden lack of movement and began to walk towards us. As he did, the room lurched forward and suddenly my father could move again. My father could as well, and he looked just as shaken as I was. Luckily, my dad was quicker to react than me, and he pulled the trigger once again, this time the bullet actually taking its normal course. But the masked man had gotten too close by this point, and he slapped the gun aside as the round came out of its chamber, causing my father to lose his balance and drop me.

The gun and myself toppled to the floor. When the gun hit the ground next to my head, it shot off. Pain exploded in my right ear. I was disoriented, and my vision went red and fuzzy. I reached for the side of my head and pulled away with thick blood dripping down my fingers. The sound of the gunshot made my ears ring so badly I could barely hear the sounds of the struggle in front of me. Tears stung my face and I ground my teeth from the pain. My dad got up to face the masked man and charged at him as I scrambled out of the way. He attempted to punch the masked man in the face, realizing his mistake far too late. My father screamed as he made contact with the metal, instantly regretting his decision. He brought his hand back, and I yelped when I saw that it was bent in the wrong direction. My father tried his other hand, but this time the masked man caught the punch mid-air. I heard the crunch of breaking bones as the masked man hit my father’s arm with his other hand, making it into a kind of L-shape. Blood spewed all over the man’s helmet and my father fell to his knees. The masked man kicked him in his face, flinging him backwards, and he stayed down, accepting his defeat.

“Well, now that that sorry excuse for a fight is over,” the man exclaimed as he wiped the blood from his helmet, “I must be finishing up. I have some unfinished business.” He looked over towards me as he said this, then back towards my father.

The masked man kick him in his side, his ribs making a loud, repulsive crack. My father rolled over onto his side.

“And I’ve grown quite tired of giving you a beating."

My father just laughed. “You talk boldly for a man that hides behind a mask,” he said as he spat out the blood filling his mouth, “But I’m not afraid to die, because I know that you’re downfall is sooner that you-”

The masked man kicked my father in the stomach before he could finish.

“You’re stalling," he spat.

“Think about Gen!” my father implored, “Think about Anna! You still must have some feelings for them left!”

The masked man glared at my dad for a second.

“Those names mean nothing to me," he said, “and neither do you."

“You won’t kill me,” my father explained, the masked man moving closer, “You can take away our freedom, you can kill as many people as your heart desires, but you can’t change the fact that I know you, and I know you can’t finish me. That’s why they sent me. Because you can’t. You won’t."

“Watch me," the masked man exclaimed, then he pulled out his gun at lightning speed and fired three shots into my father’s chest.

“Daddy!” I yelped as I tried to run to his side. The man put the gun directly to my head.

“Don’t," he told me, “You stay right there," Unwillingly, I obeyed.

He walked over to my father.

“Don’t think you’re getting out that easy,” he said as he kneeled down at my father’s side. He place his hand over my father’s chest, and a black light emitted from his hand. He kept his hand on my father as the light got brighter and brighter. I say brighter, but it was like the brighter the light itself got the darker the color was. Then a light similar to the man’s began to seep out of my father’s chest, except this one was brighter and pure. Then the light from my father began to darken and diminish. My father screamed in agony until the light vanished entirely. The masked man stood up and stepped back as my father’s lifeless body lay in front of him.

I sprinted over to my dad and knelt beside him, not caring about the masked man. I looked down at my father, and that’s when the realization of my situation kicked in. I tried my best to look at the damage through my tears. His face was all bruised and swollen, his nose clearly broken in numerous places. I buried my face into my father’s chest, ignoring the sticky blood oozing out of it. I cried for what seemed like hours, when I heard a very faint but distinguished sound.

“…Jay?” my father whispered to me.

“Daddy!” I exclaimed as I moved up closer to his face. As I looked down at him, blood dripped from the side of my head down next to my father.

“Your head,” he struggled to say through fits of coughing up blood.

“I’m fine daddy,” I assured him, “Don’t you worry. I’m-I’m gonna go get you some help. You’re gonna be okay!”

My father fought consciousness. “No, Jay, I’m not."

“I’m sorry, I should’ve done something! I just stood there like a big-baby."

“No,” my dad reassured me, “It’s not your fault. Maybe...maybe it’s better this way."

I didn’t understand what he was talking about. “No! I don’t want you to go away! Please, stay with me!” I was trying to stay strong for my father, but me fighting my emotions was just making it worse.

“Just remember Jay, I have always loved you. No matter what you do I will always love you just the same," He wasn’t going to make it much longer.

“I love you too daddy," I cried.

“And Jay?”

“Yes?” I said, waiting for his question.

“You can’t trust…” he sputtered, using all his might to speak, “d-don’t...trust...trust,”

He opened his mouth to speak, but another coughing fit interrupted him, and then he went silent.

“Who is it?” I questioned, “Who should I not trust!” I shook him back and forth. Nothing. I tried to slap him awake. Nothing. All that was left of my father was a body, three bullets and a pair of lifeless eyes that pierced mine with a feeling of complete emptiness.

“Daddy, wake up! Don’t go! Daddy!” I yelled, not really expecting a response, “I don’t want to be alone! Come back! Please! You have to!”

It was no use. My father was gone. I threw my head onto his chest again, thick blood running across the left side of my face. I didn’t care. Nothing mattered now except my father. I laid there motionless, feeling more alone than ever. I had forgotten about the masked man entirely, that is, until I felt the end of a pistol being placed upon my head.

“You said your goodbye,” the man said, “he’s gone. Turn around.” I reluctantly obeyed.

“You’re not a nice man,” I told him, “so why haven’t you killed me yet?”

“Because contrary to popular belief, I have feelings,” he explained, “and I respect you, more than anyone. Most kids would be pissing themselves right about now, but here you are staring me down like you want to rip my head off,” he chuckled, and his laugh sent a chill down my spine, “even as a child you’re still the exact same.”

“What is that suppose to mean?” I questioned, but the man was done answering questions.

I waited for the shot that would take me as well. I puffed out my chest and held back the tears, making sure to not look scared while I silently waited for this nightmare to end. But it never did.

The masked man put the gun down, but before I could figure out what was going on, I began to feel uneasy. My vision blurred and darkened. The right side of my head started throbbing harder and harder. I fell down on the floor, fighting consciousness. I saw the masked man had backed away. He seemed to be in pain himself.

I gave my father one last look. Despite the pool of blood forming around his torso, he looked peaceful. I still couldn’t process that my father was gone. It was too surreal to be true. It had always been me and my father, against the world. Morning after morning, being with my father, it was just how life was. You never think of losing a loved one because it doesn’t seem possible until it actually happens. Sometimes it happens and still seems impossible. Having him there was how it had always been, and to think that I would never wake up to him cooking me breakfast again seemed unreal. That he would never take me to the movies. That there would be no more family Christmases. No more family dinners together. No more bike riding. No more road trips. No more late nights on the couch. No more bear hugs. No more I love you’s. No more father. Now it was just me in a new world I knew nothing about.

The last thing I remember is looking at my father’s lifeless body before the world around me darkened and I slipped out of consciousness.

When I awoke, I was laying on a couch in a familiar living room, but it wasn’t mine. I looked over and saw none other than my long-time friend Ezra Bullock sitting down next to me. He was reading a comic book in one hand, and was eating out of a package of Oreos with the other. He looked and saw that I was up.

“Dad, he’s awake!” he yelled, looking over to the front hallway and then back towards me, “Hey Jay, don’t worry, we won’t let anyone hurt you. My dad says that you get to stay with us for a bit, and we’ll keep you safe."

I stared blankly at him.

“Oh,” he sighed, “I’m real sorry about your dad. I already miss him real bad," He paused for a second, then looked down at the Oreos.

“Want one?” he asked, “Don’t worry about me, I’ve had plenty already. Besides, you probably need them more than I do."

He stuck one out to me, but I politely declined.

“Well,” he said, popping the Oreo into his mouth, “since you’re staying here, you can have my bed. Just be careful about the bedposts. One of the screws on them isn’t on right, and I actually cut my finger while getting up last week. But I didn’t cry at all!”

He looked at me guiltily for a second.

“Well, maybe a little bit," he admitted.

We both laughed together, and for a second I forgot about everything that had happened that day.

“And then, my dad will probably let us take the TV into my room! Then, we could go and get your Xbox from your house and play it in-”

At the mention of my house, all the feelings surfaced again. He noticed what he had said.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, “I didn’t mean to. I was just trying to cheer you up, that’s all."

Before I could accept his apology, Anthony Bullock walked into the room with two police officers. He kneeled down next to me and brushed my hair out of my face.

“Wha-” I began, but Anthony stopped me.

“It’s fine, everything’s fine,” he assured me, “I’m sorry about your father. He was a good man. I can’t imagine what you’re feeling right now, and I don’t want to force you to talk to me about it. Just know that no matter what, I’m gonna do everything I can to keep you safe from him. I made a promise to your dad that I would take care of you if anything happened, and I intend to keep it. If there’s anything tha-”

I leaped up on him before he could finish and wrapped my arms around him. It took him a second to process this, but when he did, he did the exact same thing. But there was something else I needed to ask.

“Anthony?” I asked.

“Yes?”

“You said you’re going to keep me safe from him. Did you mean the masked ma-?”

He shushed me. “I know you’re confused, but you’ll just have to trust me when I say some things are better left alone," He stood up. “All you need to know is that you’re safe here."

He turned towards the police officers and began speaking. I overheard a few bits of what they were saying.

“I’ve known Richard since before Jay was born,” Anthony explained, “But he never mentioned anyone that might have had it out for him. I have no idea who could have done it."

“So someone killed his father back at his house and then left?” the officer asked, “How did he get here?”

“I don’t know,” said Anthony, “This must’ve been the first safe place that came in his mind. We found him outside like this."

Anthony knew more about the masked man than he was letting on. But I never found out what really happened that day, despite how many times I asked. I eventually learned to leave it alone. I never forgot that day, no matter how many counselors I went to. People told me that the things I witnessed were just delusions to help me cope; just part of my illness. But I knew. I knew deep down that what I saw was real. My father’s body, the weird lights, me turning into the darkness. I knew it wasn’t fake. But the thing that haunted my dreams the most was that man - the man with the mask. Why did he kill my father but not me? There was something about him that bothered me, deep down. He didn’t seem right, like he didn’t belong here. Whatever he was, I never forgot that mask that stared me down above the end of his pistol. It made me furious that they never found him, but I didn’t really expect them to. He seemed like the kind of man that knows how to disappear. A deep hatred inside me burned like an eternal flame; never dying, always growing. I tried to make myself seem like I was coping, but not matter how hard other’s tried I never lost that fire. Nothing could rid me of the pure loathing I felt for that man, not even the bacon that Anthony made for me the morning after.

CHAPTER ONE

I winced at the ear-piercing screech of the brakes forcing the bus to a slow stop. That bus had to be older than time itself. As it pulled up to me, it pushed all the dead fall leaves on the curb towards my direction. I stepped aside, not wanting to be pelted by the incoming volley of leaves. The bus door opened, making a similar squeaking sound that the brakes did. If only Ezra wouldn’t have been such a douche and ditch me I wouldn’t have to ride this ancient bus.

I walked up the steps inside the bus, and made my way to the back. Finding a seat usually was difficult. My stop was one of if not the last stop for the whole bus route. Another reason to pop Ezra in the gut the next time I saw him.

As I drifted to the back, I noticed someone waving me over. Danny signaled for me to sit in the seat behind him. Judging by the fact that all the other seats were taken, I accepted his plea.

Danny Lewis didn’t look like he should be in high school. Short and scrawny never went well together. He had that “my mom still fixes my hair” kind of aura to him. He didn’t really seem to fit in, which I guess is one thing we had in common. He never missed a day of school, which doesn’t help that fact that everything about him screams nerd. Every single day he was on this bus in the same exact spot.

“Heya Jay,” he said as he turned around in his seat, “you feeling okay?”

He must've noticed my glum mood.

“Yeah, I’m not feeling a hundred percent myself today."

The truth was, I really didn’t feel myself at all. Like I woke up on the wrong side of the bed. And it wasn’t just me either. The whole day didn’t feel right. Everything so far has just seemed off. There’s no better way to explain it.

“If it’s all the same to you I’d like to just be alone right now," I sighed.

“Okay, that’s cool,” he said, but looked a little hurt. He’ll get over it.

I stuck in my headphones and watched the trees rush by as we made our trek through the town. The cool fall air drifted through the opening in the top of my broken window, ruffling my hair out of place. I pushed it back and sat up to shove the window back in place. But when I did, I noticed something that struck me as peculiar. A girl around my age was standing there at the edge of the sidewalk, staring directly at me.

I had never seen her before, but something about her seemed familiar. The surprised and confused look she was giving me suggested she was feeling the same. I stared back at her through the window until she was just a little speck in the distance.

Another weird moment for this weird day.

Pulling up to the school, I saw the school sign sitting way up above the trees. It had the words “Leyden High School” posted across the top in big, bold letters. Next to it was a faded image of a ferocious lion; the school mascot. As the bus came to a halt, I unpluged my earbuds and stood up into the aisle. Looking over, I saw Danny glancing back and forth through the window, as if he was searching for someone.

“Who’re you looking for?” I questioned.

Danny jumped ten feet. He turned around real quick, looking surprised.

“Wha-?” he asked, “Oh, no one in particular. Just, you know. Looking."

I glared at him for a second, trying to figure out why he was acting so weird.

“Are you feeling okay, Danny?”

“Me?” he said, running his fingers through his curly brown hair, “Oh yeah. Never better," He didn’t look so convinced.

He dipped out of his seat into the aisle and made his way towards the front. I followed suit.

Stepping off the bus, I looked up at the high school. The large school was very old, yet still looked brand new. I watched as people piled through the doors, pushing and shoving as if it were going to make a difference who got in first. A couple was making out on the side, leaning on the wall. People should really learn to get some decency. The dark storm clouds hovered over our heads, longing to unleash it’s contents on our heads.

As I walked up to the door, I noticed a figure walking behind me out of the corner of my eye. I knew who it was right away. I could pick out that head of jet black hair anywhere. My heart started beating. Knowing this was my chance, I held open the door, hoping she would notice me.

Savannah Jorden walked through the door I was holding open, and right when I thought she wouldn’t say anything, she turned her head back to me.

“Thanks, Jay."

Yeah, I know, I held a door open. No biggie. Yet I still stood there afterwards with my mouth wide open looking like a dumbass. I couldn’t control my cheesy teenager hormones even if I tried. It’s just that once you start crushing on a girl, any social interaction with her causes your entire body to flip its shit. I stood there for what seemed like eternity until I realized that I was holding the door open for thin air.

I strolled inside with a smile on my face, thinking that this day might actually not be all that bad.

As I walked in the cafeteria, some underclassmen bumped shoulders with me. Their bags were jiggling up and down; stuffed full of books and folders and papers.

“Watch it!” I yelled in agitation. They all sneered and turned away from me.

“Yeah you better watch it guys!”

The underclassmen turned, saw who had spoken, and then turned back around and quickly strolled away.

“Twitchy here has been known to get real feisty!”

I turned to look up into the face of no other than Devin Murphy.

“Look at that buddy,” he teased at me, “I think you scared ‘em off!”

I just glared back at him in anger.

“Don’t look so frustrated,” he said, gripping me by the shoulders, “I’m was only trying to help scare the little ones away for you.”

“What do you want from me, a thank you card?”

He narrowed his eyes, and I knew it was about to begin.

“Don’t get smart with me,” he said as a few of his sport buddies piled in behind him.

He inched closer to me, but I turned and began to back away.

“Oh what horrors do you have in store for me today? Intense verbal ridiculing? Oh, maybe you’ll wring me by my neck a few times?” I laughed, shaking my head while trying to keep my cool, “We both know you’re not going to do anything. Not if you want that sports scholarship. I don’t have time to deal with your sh-"

He suddenly gripped my shirt, pulling me back around. This surprised me, and I finally saw how pissed off he was. The first time I try and stand up for myself and I get the biggest beating of my life.

Typical.

Randomly, I felt the ground underneath my feet rumble a bit as if there was some kind of mini earthquake. I didn’t get to think about this anymore though because Murphy was this close to beating me to a pulp.

“Well you better make time, freak!” he said, and right before I thought things were about to start getting rough, another voice chimed in, saving me from Murphy’s wrath.

“You’re not about to start anything with Jay, are you Murphy?”

All I could see out of my peripherals was the sandy blonde hair of my savior, but I knew exactly who that voice belonged to.

April walked up to Murphy and I, me still in Murphy’s grasp.

“Of course not, April,” he said, letting go of me, “Not yet, I mean. That part is up to you."

“How so?” April asked, raising her eyebrows.

“Well, just come out on a date with me!” he grinned, “It’s really easy. I’ll pay, all you have to do is show up."

She pondered this a moment.

“I’d rather jump in front of a bus," April exclaimed.

“Ouch,” I said, playfully bumping Murphy on the shoulder as I turned around, “Well, it was worth a shot."

“Come on,” April beckoned.

I turned to look at Murphy, then to April. I strolled up to her side and began to walk. As I walked away with April, I turned around towards Murphy.

“Toodles!” I teased. He just glared at me and turned back towards his friends.

Murphy’s one weakness: April Prescott. He would never make a fool of himself while around her, which is great because April is my best friend. She’s like my own personal bully repellent. She’d probably punch me in the throat if I called her that though.

“Thanks April,” I said, “but I totally had that whole situation under control."

She rolled her eyes at me.

“Oh whatever,” she played.

April is my closest friend next to Ezra, mainly because she is constantly saving my butt. But also because she always knows what to say to keep my personal realities personal.

“Honestly, twitchy is already so old,” she said, “he’s the only one who holds that against you. Don’t let one guys words mess with you, plenty of people have forgotten. You don’t need his approval."

I shrugged. But the truth is, it still did bother me. Cause even though others don’t care, I haven’t forgotten.

____________

“Oh my God Jay! Can you walk any slower?”

Ezra stood at the curb in front of the school, beckoning me with hand movements to move faster.

“Sorry,” I exclaimed, looking down at the new iPhone that I had just gotten, “there’s just so much cool stuff on here!”

“Yeah, I know. You’ve been rubbing it in for the past week."

“I’ve never had a phone before Ezra, cut me some slack," I told him.

“You’re right,” he shrugged, “dad could’ve gotten you a Blackberry and you would’ve been stoked."

“Ha ha,” I played, slipping my phone back into my pocket so I could catch up with Ezra.

It happened a few months ago back in May. We were still Juniors, and the impending terror of finals and kids were scrambling to get in their necessary study hours. Senior pranks were already starting early too. Today a small group of them tried to hook up a slip n’ slide down the hallway, but only a few people got to slide down it before it got shut down. The summer heat was already sinking in, and pools were starting to open. I enjoyed high school here, but I’ll admit I was itching for summer. It didn’t seem like it was coming nearly fast enough.

Ezra and I were going home to quiz each other on our algebra review. He was nice enough to ride the bus with me that day; mainly because I wouldn’t stop pestering him about it. Dad won’t let me get a car, much less ride with Ezra to school. That doesn’t mean I haven’t tried, although when I did it usually ended badly. Anthony always found out. Even though I had the cash for a car, he wouldn’t budge. It’s stupid, but he must have a good reason. I know Anthony better than someone who would be unfair for no reason.

We decided to take the long way around, walking down the sidewalk in front of the school. The buses were on the other side, but we had a little time to kill. Ours was usually late.

Cars zoomed by us on the open road, teenagers speeding all up and down the street, eager to get away from the hold of school. Ezra was in front of me, walking backwards. We were passing the front where the underclassmen are picked up.

“Remember when that was us, Jay?” Ezra asked while glancing over to the freshmen, “We used to be babies like that too. "

“Except we were a lot better looking," I joked, squinting to get a better look.

He gave a small laugh. I looked over in the street and saw a car pull out in front of another. The one in the back leaned and yelled out the window.

“What do you think you’re doing!”

The man in the car in front ignored him, and sped off down the street. Some kids at the corner were looking into the same phone, laughing together at something on the screen. Underclassmen by the school were getting physical, hitting each other to the point when some teachers were having to break them up. Ezra looked as if he were thinking really hard, then grinned and began skipping around me backwards.

“Come on, Jason,” he poked at me, “lighten up a bit, live a little!”

Ezra has never been that good on his feet, so it was typical of him to trip over himself when he attempted this. He fell sideways into me, knocking me onto the ground with him. My backpack flew off of my back and tumbled beside me. Just my luck that the bag was open, and out came everything in my bag. One thing that flew out was my prescription medicine, filled to the brim with little dark blue pills. Ezra flung his head up only to see the pill bottle, which he noticed right away that there was way too many of them still left.

“What the hell is this?” he asked me, picking up the bottle and holding it up to me. He stood up and then brought it up closer to his face to get a better look.

“I-”

“Have you been skipping out on your medication?” he accused.

“Let me expla-”

“Are you kidding me?” he said, and I could see his temper coming out of it’s shell. He took a step towards me, but before he let himself go any further he stopped himself, sighed, and stepped away from me.

The flagpole to our left rang as its ropes banged into it from the gusts of wind sweeping by. Ezra went up to it and grabbed it, flinging himself backwards and sighing to give himself a breather. I leaned down and began shoving everything back into my bag. Ezra pulled himself back up onto his feet and walked over to me. He shoved his hands into his pockets and looked down at me.

“Dude, you’re never gonna get better if you keep pulling shit like this," he told me.

I glared at him for a second, not believing my ears.

“You’re the one that told me that I’m not sick,” I yelled, “you said that you believe in me. What happened to that?”

“That was forever ago!” he exclaimed, “We were still kids, Jay. You don’t really still blame that masked guy do you?” My silence answered his question, then he chuckled and shook his head.

“I thought by now you would have matured enough to understand that sometimes the problem is you."

I stopped walking.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He stopped as well.

“I mean,” he started, “that maybe, for once, you’re the problem."

I couldn’t believe it. My own brother, the one that never has doubted me all these years, was finally cracking like the rest of them.

“You really think that I’m just making up all this in my head?” I asked.

“Yes!” he roared, “I thought you knew that! Obviously it’s all in your head!”

“N-no!”

It was coming back. That splitting feeling of what’s real and what’s not. I had thought Ezra was with me this whole time, but I guess that wasn’t real either.

“Jay!” he yelled, “That’s the definition of Schizophrenia! Seeing things that others don’t see? Things that aren’t real?”

“They are real," I said, getting very agitated.

“THEY AREN’T!”

I was taken aback by his surge of anger. I hadn't seen him angry like that in a long time.

“How come no one else can see the things you see? Huh?”

“I don’t know," I said through gritted teeth.

“My god, and I thought you were improving!” he yelled.

“I-I’m not,” I said, pausing to try and keep my bearings together, “crazy."

“All those things you see, all those events that you say you saw happen? None of it is real!”

“It is real," I said.

“Masked men with lights for hands? You have to see how crazy that sounds, right?”

“Light came out of his hands," I corrected.

“What?”

“I mean that his hands weren't light,” I said, making a gesture with my hand, “the light came out of his hands."

“It doesn't matter!” he yelled, “He doesn’t exist, that’s the point!”

“He does!" I asserted.

“No Jay, if he were real why haven’t we seen him?” he asked.

“I don’t know!”

“In your head!” he told me, “It’s okay to make up stories to help when you’re a kid, but now? That’s just sad."

“I-”

“You made it all up Jay!”

“I did not," I sputtered, my speech stuttering. I was losing it, my last real supporter slipping out of reach. All the students from outside the school were looking over at us now. I didn’t care. Cars were still zipping by us, although heads did turn whenever we were passed.

“Unbelievable. You try to blame it on something else, anything else, but you won’t accept the truth!” he exclaimed, “The truth that everyone who cares about you has been trying to get you to understand. The truth that we’re all trying to help you with, but you keep resisting and preventing us from doing that."

“No."

“The truth that you know, deep down,” he said, moving in close to me, “that you’ve always known, but refused to admit,"

“N-no.”

“Yes Jay."

I stared at him in horror.

“IT’S ALL IN YOUR HEAD!”

I didn’t know what to do. My head hurt, and all I could do was stand there in shock. My brother, my closest friend, betraying me. I never thought I would see the day. It was as if my whole world had fallen apart.

Students were walking over, probably hoping to witness a fight. School supervisors were looking over, ready to intervene if necessary. Cars continued to speed by, blowing gusts of wind with each pass. I don’t know why I did it. Maybe it was anger. All I knew was that Ezra’s face was inches from mine, and that was the last thing I wanted to see at the moment.

I reached my arms up and shoved him away from me. Hard.

His face lit up in surprise, not expecting me to resort to violence. I was surprised myself. He flung backwards, and the back of his shoe caught in the crack between the curb and the sidewalk. He lost his balance, and tumbled backwards.

It happened so fast, I didn’t even process it right away. He fell back into the street, right into oncoming traffic. A black Ford was coming down, and when he noticed Ezra he slammed on his brakes. But it was no use. The front of the truck slammed into the right side of my brother at full speed, snapping multiple bones. The front of his face turned from the force and shot right into the metal grille next to the license plate. The truck driver was still pushing his brakes, and the car began stopping. My brothers face peeled off of the truck, as did the rest of his body, and went flying thirty feet away from the vehicle. He landed with a loud thud, and then all was quiet.

All the student were on the sidewalk now, but no one said a word. The driver sat in his car, hands frozen to his wheel. Thick amounts of blood dripped off of the front, the chunks of my brother’s face plopping onto the pavement. Ezra laid face up, his head turned in an unnatural direction. He never moved.

“EZRA!” I screamed, finally comprehending what had happened.

I sprinted over to him. He was lying near the middle of the road, but I didn’t need to worry about cars. They were all stopped, staring at Ezra through their windshields.

Once I got to him, I saw how much damage had actually been done. His arms were broken, and one of his legs looked bent in an odd direction. He was covered in blood, all of it coming from his head. That’s where the real damage was. The skin on his face was shredded from the truck’s grille, nose broken and bleeding as well. His eyes were open, and had rolled over to the side on which he had impacted. In addition to that, he had hit his head on the asphalt, splitting the top of his skull open, blood still seeping out of the wound down his face. But worst part of it was how his head was turned. He was lying chest-up, but his neck had a large bump on it’s side, and his lopsided chin turned past his shoulder.

I leaned in to hear if he was breathing. Nothing.

“Hey!” I yelled in his face, not really expecting an answer. I didn’t get one.

“EZRA!” I screeched, “WAKE UP!”

Nothing.

Streams of tears broke free from the corners of my eyes, and I held up his head in my arms.

“EZRA!”

His blood oozed down my wrists, but I didn’t take any notice. I gripped his lifeless body in my arms, pulling him tightly towards me.

“I’m so sorry!” I exclaimed through tears, “So so sorry. I didn’t mean to! Ezra! I’m sorry!”

I could hear the teachers sprinting up behind me.

“You’re not dead!” I sobbed, wiping my tear-swollen eyes so that I was able to see, “No, you can’t be! No! No! NO!”

I looked down. Staring into the lifeless eyes of my late brother, I could see my own reflection staring back at me. It was the reflection of a killer. Tears were flowing even harder. I had killed him. No one else's fault but mine. I held him tightly and layed my head upon his chest.

I closed my eyes, everything leaving my mind except for Ezra.

“What’s wrong?”

I opened my eyes, and the scene in front of me had changed completely. I heard someone yell.

“What do you think you’re doing!”

I looked over where the voice came from. A man had just leaned out of a car on the road, yelling at the one in front of him. The other car sped away.

I looked down to the corner of the sidewalk. Teenagers were giggling at something funny on a phone. I turned towards the school and saw some kids fighting each other, and adults helping to break it up. And the biggest shocker of all: in front of me stood my brother Ezra Bullock, alive and well.

I looked down at my hands, expecting to see sticky blood dripping down them, but only to find them perfectly clean.

“Dude, what are you doing?” he asked, “Pipe down.”

I looked up at Erza, but couldn't find any words. Was my mind playing tricks on me again? No. That happened. I felt his dead body in my arms. That was real. When I looked at his face, all I could think of was a shredded up image of him. My mind couldn’t process what had happened, and I was beginning to have some sort of mental breakdown. I ran over to Ezra and tackled him into a hug, checking to see how this was possible.

“Jay, what’s wrong?”

I stared into his now lively eyes.

“Is this real?” I questioned, not to Ezra, but to myself.

Ezra answered anyways.

“Of course it’s real."

“You died," I told him through a shaky voice, “I killed you." He gave me a confused look.

“What do you mean?” he said, “I’m right here."

I stared at him for a moment, not knowing what to say next.

Then his face erupted into the image of that horrifying sight. The bloody face stared back at me, and I saw the reflection of a man I didn’t recognized. The face of a killer. I cried out and fell to my knees, trying to get the picture of Ezra’s decimated body out of my mind, but I couldn’t look at him and not see everything I had just done.

Ezra backed up, and I got up to come to him. But the teachers had caught up to us and grabbed me from behind, holding me back from him.

“NO!” I screamed, trying to pull away from my captors from behind. But there were too many of them. I thrashed around, not giving up. They pulled me back away from my brother.

“NO, EZRA!” I yelled, “COME BACK! GET OFF OF ME!”

I implored the people behind me to let go, but they wouldn’t budge.

“NO!” I lashed, “NO, NO, NO! LET ME GO!”

All I could think of was to get to Ezra. I had lost him once, and wasn’t going to let these people take me away from him again.

Somehow I managed to break free of my holders. I sprinted as fast as I could toward Ezra. I saw the glistening of flashing red and blue lights in my peripherals. I was close. Ezra was only a few more steps away. He was inches from my grasp, and I looked at his face. He was staring at me; petrified. He was scared of me. I stopped, staring back at him. That look on his face pained me, and even though I heard someone yelling behind me, I just stood still. I couldn’t bear it. Pain coursed throughout my body and tried to push past it. But I couldn’t, and the electricity from the taser gun shocked me until I crumbled to the ground; defeated.

Lying down, I felt someone locking my hands up behind me. I saw Ezra, and he stared at me. It looked as if he were disappointed. A black Ford truck drove past, it’s driver looking over curiously at the scene on the sidewalk. The truck didn’t have a scratch on it. As I slipped unconscious, I noticed Devin Murphy standing amongst the crowd. If I didn’t know any better I would say that he almost looked sorry for me.

But maybe I was just imagining that too.

____________

Going back to the present, April and I came upon a table in the back, and of course it was the loudest one there. But that would make sense, since Ezra was right in the middle of the crowd.

“Jay!” exclaimed Ezra and he shot up from his chair and made his way over to me, “where you been?”

“You drove off without me, remember?” I shot back, still very agitated with him.

“Jason, buddy!” he played, trying to cool my mood by being funny, “I had a tutoring with Mrs. Finnigan! Besides, dad told you not to anyways," I hate when he uses my full name. He only does it when he knows he’s in trouble.

“When has dad ever stopped you?” I questioned, knowing he wouldn’t have an answer.

“Touche,” he shrugged, “okay, tomorrow, I promise," He put his hand over his heart and closed his eyes.

“I’m gonna hold you to that,” I poked as me and April sat down next to him at the table.

I’ve known Ezra for longer than I can remember. Ezra’s dad adopted me, putting us closer together more than we already were. Maybe closer than I would’ve prefered, but despite some of our differences, he’s still my best friend and my brother.

I don’t know how he is so popular. Everytime we move, he somehow figures out how to bring friends in by the dozen in the first month. He tries to involve me with his friends, but usually I can’t stand them. They all scare me, and not because they’re intimidating, but because they’re all exact replications of my brother.

Before I could even settle in, I felt someone leaning over me, and piece of paper dropped down on the table.

“Hey, you finish this english essay?” asked Bellamy. Bellamy Price was probably Ezra’s closest friend at this school, and for good reason. The only difference between Bellamy and Ezra was the fact that they looked different. Demeanor wise they’re identical.

“You have to start doing your work at some point Bellamy,” I sighed as I reached into my bag and pulled out my copy, “You can take my quotes, but don’t copy my analysis. Change it up a bit."

“Aye-aye captain,” he said, pulling the paper from my hands.

“You know, I won’t always be here to save you Bellamy," I told him.

“Hey, I’ve gotten this far with minimal effort,” he said, copying off of my sheet, “why stop now?”

I gave a subtle laugh and sat back into my seat. The cafeteria was dark, the gloomy clouds blocking the sun’s rays from entering the wall of windows. Dim lights overhead attempted to light up the large room, but didn’t do much. Students hurried up and down hallways, scrambling to get to last minute homework complete before class. The loud chatter of random conversations across the cafeteria mixed together to create a continuous hum. I could overhear talking of homework and recent TV episodes. There’s nothing to be paranoid about. It’s just a normal day. Nothing has changed.

Kevin and Sidney began to kiss and Ezra called them out on it.

“Can you guys go bang somewhere else please," Ezra teased.

Kevin McAllister and Sidney Weaver had been a couple before Ezra and I had even came to this school, and still are. They’re that couple to were if you see one of them the other must be close by.

“Get a girlfriend first,” Kevin stated, “then you can tell me what to in my relationship."

“I got girls Kevin,” Ezra played, “I just like to keep my options open."

“Well unfortunately the best one is already taken," Kevin teased, elbowing Sidney in the ribs. Sidney rolled her eyes, and Bellamy joined the conversation.

“Go be cute somewhere else!” he poked, not looking up from his paper.

“When are you gonna give us a break?” asked Sidney.

“What makes you think we ever are?” Ezra grinned, and they both laughed at each other.

April fiddled at her pocket for a moment and pulled out her phone. Dylan Harbour sat across from Ezra, and shot a rubber band into his face. Ezra stood up.

“Oh, you bitch!” he yelled, but not seriously angry.

I didn’t know Dylan very well. He was kind of an odd character, but Ezra seemed to like him, so I guess he was cool with me.

Ezra leaned across the table, punching him in his chest. Meanwhile, his unoccupied arm swung into his water bottle. The bottle flung across the table and the lid popped off on impact. The liquid inside drained all over my English essay.

“What the hell Ezra!” Bellamy shot, standing up as well, “Look what you did!”

Bellamy looked at me, as well did Ezra. I picked up my sheet and saw that it was ruined. The words were all faded and completely illegible.

“I am so sorry Jay,” Ezra exclaimed, trying to search my face for my emotions, “Are you okay?”

“I worked all night on this Ezra!” I yelled, “Of course I’m not okay. This is gonna get me a zero!”

“Jay,” April began, trying to cool the two of us down. Bellamy saw where this was going, and slowly dipped out of the conversation.

“Could you maybe think about others before you start doing stupid stuff like that?” I asked.

Ezra stepped back, looking hurt. I didn’t care. My paper was ruined. I look back down at it. What was I going to do? I can’t get a zero on this paper, it’ll fail me for this semester.

Before I could think of what to do next, the paper in my hands began to shine brightly. The light flickered, and I stared at it curiously. Not knowing what it was, I dropped it from my hands onto the floor. Before it could hit the ground, the paper disappeared from sight entirely. The floor was replaced by the table, and I looked up in confusion. But the sight I saw before me confused me even more.

I was sitting down again, as well was Ezra. A figure leaned over me, dropping a blank sheet of paper in front of me.

“Hey, you finish this english essay?”

I looked up to find Bellamy standing above me with a grin on his face. I quickly reached into my bag and yanked out my essay.

It was untouched. There was no trace of any spills onto it.

“Earth to Jay,” proclaimed Bellamy, waving his hand in front of my face.

I handed the paper to him to shut him up.

“Don’t copy it word for word,” I told him.

“Aye-aye captain,” he said, pulling the paper from my hands.

Talk about some serious deja vu.

“I’m not going to be here to save you every time, Bellamy," I asserted.

“Hey, I’ve gotten this far with minimal effort-”

“Why stop now?” I finished.

He stared at me for a second; bewildered.

“Okay, finishing my sentences,” he stated, “that’s not weird at all. You okay?”

“Yeah, I just,” I paused, looking around the room, “figured you would say something like that."

“Whatever,” he shrugged, then he continued copying off my paper.

“Oh, you bitch!”

I looked over to find that Ezra had been hit in the face with a rubber band. Dylan was laughing at the other end, and Ezra stood up from his seat.

Instinctively I shot up from my seat and snatched Ezra’s water bottle from the table, then sat back down with it tight in my hands.

“Um,” Ezra started, “what was that?”

Everyone at the table was staring at me.

“You were about to hit it."

I had done it again. Of course he wasn’t going to hit it. How could I have known that? Now I’m just embarrassing myself. But it seemed so real. It always seems real. He stared at me for a second, then looked at the bottle, then back at me, then the bottle again.

He knew.

I closed my eyes, trying to push away the feeling, regretting that I allowed my mind to get the better of me again. I pushed away the feeling, shoving it back down where it belonged.

I looked down and noticed my hands were shaking, and looked up to find Ezra staring too.

“Jay,” he said, “come over to the line with me for a sec."

I reluctantly stood up and walked with Ezra to the breakfast line.

“Man I could really go for some pancakes and syrup right now,” he stated as we stepped in line, “how about you?”

I didn’t respond. All I could do was stare at the crisping bacon on the fryer behind the counter, the sweet smell of popping grease bringing me back to my childhood for a moment before Ezra’s sigh yanked me back into reality.

“You did it again, didn’t you?” he asked.

“Did what?” I stalled.

“You’re seeing stuff again!” he accused.

“No."

I might as well tell him.

“You knocked the bottle over, and it spilled and ruined my essay."

He looked at me, dumbfounded.

“That’s why you freaked out?”

“I didn’t freak out."

“You were gonna!” he said.

“I-”

“The lid was on Jay. How was it going to spill?” he asked.

Ezra grabbed a plate of pancakes and slid his tray down the line.

“It would’ve popped off," I told him.

“Jay,” he began, “you can’t do this anymore. Not even for little things like this. I won’t tell dad this time, but the more you give into your delusions the stronger they get."

He was right. I already felt the thoughts coming back. That I wasn’t crazy. That there weren’t actually any delusions. I pushed them away, accepting the fact that I was sick. It needed to stay that way.

“You’re right,” I apologized, “I’m sorry."

“It’s all good, little bro," he teased.

“Don’t you even start with that!” I said, playfully pushing him down the line. He snickered, and scooted up a spot in the line.

As we waited, I noticed Savannah Jordan and few spots ahead of us. Ezra noticed as well.

“I’m sorry man,” Ezra told me, “but I don’t how you’re ever going to pull that."

We both looked over at Savannah. He long black hair went down to her waist, flowing freely wherever it pleased with every step. She was pretty tall, compared to most other girls at my school. Her pale skin almost seemed to glisten in the light. She had an amazing figure, and wasn’t afraid to show it off a little either. She payed for her food and walked off towards the cafeteria. Ezra leaned back and inhaled sharply.

“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen,” Ezra teased, clapping me on the shoulder, “better luck next time."

“We’ll see,” I said to him as we walked up to the register.

“Can I get a few packs of syrup, please?” Ezra asked politely.

“Sorry,” the lady said, “we’re fresh out."

We payed and made our trek back to the table.

“Are you shitting me?” Ezra exclaimed, “How are you going to sell pancakes and not have any syrup? That’s just cruel."

“It’s ridiculous!” I laughed.

“It’s one step away from being a crime against humanity, that’s what it is,” he said.

I laughed. We came back upon the table, and sat back down in our previous spot.

“Is everything okay?” April whispered into my ear.

“Yeah,” I told her, “he just wanted some pancakes, that’s all."

Bellamy handed my paper back to me.

“Thanks a ton Jay,” he said.

“Yeah, yeah,” I shrugged, taking the paper back and placing it in my bag again.

I looked around the room. Maybe this was going to be a good day. I leaned back in my chair, and placed my hands behind my head. Yeah. Today was good. A loud scream pierced my thoughts, and a canon blast came immediately after. I looked over to the origin of the sound, as did everyone else. The sight the I saw horrified me.

A woman not much younger than me ran into the cafeteria on the far end, screaming.

“HE’S GOT A G-”

Before she could finish, her head exploded, and her brains flung all over the table of underclassmen to her right.

Everyone screamed and began to scatter around the room, some towards the woman’s body, others away. But that was not the sight that horrified me. It was the one who had taken the shot that did.

I stared in shock, a man in a black mask stormed into the room, shotgun in hand. He pointed it up and blasted a shot into the ceiling. He raised it up and spoke in his still terrifying voice.

“WHERE IS JASON SUTHERLAND?!