[COMPLETED] A teen boy meets a girl in the park. Despite things starting off a little rocky, they start to meet at the park everyday and talk about their day, and share things they'd never share with anybody else. One day, the girl doesn't show up a...
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I was eating by myself in the student center today due to the very fact Ryan tested me, saying how she had a sudden doctor's appointment done up.
I wasn't really devastated or anything about her absence because Mom actually gave me some money to walk over to the convenient store and buy a sandwich from the deli and some freezer foods they served.
I ate a pastrami sandwich, with a small bag of chips and ranch dip.
As I sat their eating my lunch, I hadn't seen Mike and his followers walk in. I was about finished with the sandwich but I had to look up and make accidental eye contact with Mike.
Damn it.
He smiled and shook his head. The rest of the guys saw me too, but surprisingly they followed Mike to a table that was very far from the one I sat at.
I needed to leave.
I started to gather up all my things to walk over to the garbage can to throw away my unfinished food, but something stopped me.
Maybe it was how worn out and frustrated I was starting to feel. Mike and his cronies managed to get me out of the cafeteria, but now they were going to get me out of the student center, and man, it just didn't seem quite fair. None of the crap did.
Why in the hell did Mike start having it out for me in the first place?
Oh yeah, I had quit wrestling.
And I think he thought that was a douche move because of the very idea that I was the one to carry the team. But he was an okay wrester too, so what was all the hostility and doucheness for?
I stopped gathering up all my shit, and finished my sandwich, chips, dip, and bottle of water.
When Mike and followers saw that I wasn't leaving, that's when the remarks started.
"You're such a fucking joke Paxton!"
"You're such a dumbass! You can't even pass damn Algebra!"
"Guys, Paxton's such a pansy. He can't even take a hit!"
"He's such a flake."
"...a fucker..."
"...a coward..."
"Paxton sucked when he was on the team..."
"Yeah...such a shit-head."
Everybody looked at me. Despite the fact I hadn't looked up from my sandwich, chips, and water, I could feel everybody's eyes on me. They were waiting for me to blow a gasket and I wasn't going to let him and his buddies get to me.
If there was anything my old man taught me. It was to control my temper, and to take shit like a man.
♢
Dad and I had a stare down for what seemed like an hour. He didn't act...he didn't move...he didn't speak.
Then, very quickly, in a blink of an eye. He slapped me.
"Ow!" I screamed, rubbing my cheek trying to numb the pain, or rub it out somehow.
Why was Dad doing this?
Why did he slap me?
Why did he want to surprise me?
Tears started to come out, and he slapped me again. "Damn it son! Don't act like such a sissy! Real men don't cry!"
He yelled this in my face, and that's when I started to blubber. "Daddy, did I do something wrong?"
"You have, if you start to cry. Never show anyone your tears 'cause then they see your weakness, who you exactly are, and the parts of you that aren't so great."
He slapped me again, as swiftly as the last slap he gave me.
Eleven year old me hadn't realised the physical abuse my dad was giving me.
♢
They were now crowded around my table.
Taunting me with words I had grown accustomed too.
I held it all in, but my fist tightened.
My hand wasn't on the sandwich anymore. Nor were they on the chips, dips, or the bottle of water.
They were on the table, and the more I squeezed my fist the more the words started to make an impact.
They started to call me things my dad always called me. And everyone else who just watched as Mike and his cronies tried to run away with my dignity, Well they just watched, whispered, and laughed.
I wasn't comfortably numb.
It was the opposite of that.
My face had cracked so many times that I was sick of trying to glue it back together. I'd been beaten and bruised so many times, I was sick of being black and blue.
I wanted to finally do what I needed to do to get away from that. That-- I meant the struggle I was in now.
Yes, I was my dad's son. Yes, I was the same temperamental guy as he. But could I rise above all of it, better than he did?
Maybe, there was a way out of it. This bind...this prison cell...this anger.
What about now?
What about now?
What about now?!
The last thing I remembered before blacking out was Mike grabbing my shoulder, and I couldn't remember the first thing I'd done.
But when I came back to light, and there was no more adrenaline. I saw Mike's face. I saw the looks everybody was giving me.
My old wrestling teammates we're all taking a step back like I was a monster, and the way they looked at me was how everybody else seemed to look at me too.
I looked at my right hand, and saw the blood on my knuckles, and they wouldn't stop shaking.
My damn hands had no control.
Then, I saw Principal Benjamin and Coach Linley walk into the student center.
Had I killed Mike?
Then, I saw him sit up and start to move back away from me quickly, like I was a monster.
