"Okay, I guess..." I answered, halfheartedly shaking his hand.

"Good. I'm relieved to hear it."

Suspicion immediately went through me and I looked over at Grandma. "What's going on?"

"Nothing." She said, though her eyes told a much different story. "Your father and I just thought you might like to talk to Reverend Dawson about what happened this afternoon."

Reverend Dawson nodded his head and sat back down on the recliner. "Your grandmother tells me there was an incident between you and your sister."

"Yeah..." I admitted, "But it was her fault. She told me that she was glad our mom was dead."

"You're lying." Victor sneered, "Violet would never say something like-"

"Ah ah ah.." Reverend Dawson interrupted, holding his hand up. "We need to hear his side of the story before passing judgment."

Victor rolled his eyes and folded his arms behind his head, leaning back into the sofa. 

Reverend Dawson looked back at me.  "You hurt your sister pretty badly, Vincent."

My eyes averted from his.  "I know...but I just wanted her to take it back."

"I understand, but even when someone says something that hurts us we should never resort to violence.  Jesus taught us that to live by the sword is to die by the sword."

"What does that mean?"  I asked.

"Violence never solves anything."

I didn't know how to respond to that, so I just shrugged my shoulders again and remained silent. 

Victor sat up and looked back at the reverend with a frown.  "This isn't the first time the boy beat up a defenseless young girl, Reverend.  He hurt a little girl at school for not accepting a Valentine card.  This kind of behavior is only going to get worse if we don't act now."

Reverend Dawson was visibly stunned by his words.  "Is this true, Vincent?"

"Yes, but Victor said-"

"Have you always addressed your father by his first name?"

"No, but-"

He held his hand up before I could finish, his eyes falling back on Victor.  "Mr. Graves, there is one solution to Vincent's behavior that I believe will really help."

"Oh?"  Victor said, "What did you have in mind?"

"There is an infirmary called 'St. Paul's' that helps children who are....troubled.  Normally, they only allow catholic children, but the head priest is a friend of mine.  I'm certain he will make an exception, if that is something you'd be interested in."

"How long would he have to stay?"  Victor asked, a ghost of a smile gracing his lips.

"Most children stay for about a year."

"A year!?"  Grandma cried, "My goodness, that is an awfully long time."

"Yeah, but it might do the boy some good to get away from here for a while."  Victor insisted, his eyes lighting up at the thought of me being sent away.  "I'm all for it, Reverend."

"Great."  Reverend Dawson said, "I'll call Father Stuart first thing in the morning and set it up."

"But...I don't want to go." I said, leaping from my chair. "I want to stay here with Grandma."

"Sorry, kid." Victor chuckled, "You should've thought about that before you hit your sister."

Reverend Dawson scowled at him before looking back at me, his eyes softening. "I know this is a lot to take it, but this will be good for you. Once you get settled in you'll love it."

"No!" I shouted, slamming my fist into the wall. "You can't make me go! I want to stay here!"

"Vincent, please-" Grandma pleaded, "We're just trying to help you."

I could not believe this was happening! My own grandma was turning against me, and it was all because of Violet! No one cared that none of this was my fault. I was alone.

My lips peeled back and I bared my teeth at them, shoving my middle finger up. "Fuck all of you!"

Reverend Dawson gasped. "Young man, you should not speak to us that way!"

Victor simply shook his head and laughed, while Grandma began sobbing in her hands.

"No one cares about me!" I screamed, "You would all be happy if I was dead!"

I ran into the kitchen and grabbed a butcher knife from the drawer, holding it up to my arm with a scowl. "I should just kill myself now!"

"Vincent, stop!" Grandma begged, "No one is going to make you go. Just please, put the knife down before you hurt yourself."

My grip around the knife slightly relaxed, but I was still wary. "Do you promise?"

Reverend Dawson whispered something into Victor's ear, while Grandma slowly took a step toward me. "Yes, I promise." She said, "We'll work all of this out right here at home."

My throat tightened as I cautiously set the knife down on the counter. Grandma smiled and reached her arms out to embrace me. I smiled back and started to walk towards her, but my arms were seized before I could reach her.

"No!" I screamed, digging my heels into the floor as Reverend Dawson and Victor dragged me towards the front door. "You promised!"

"Your grandmother promised." Victor said, "I never said a word."

I picked my foot up and kicked him right in his shin. "You bastard! I fucking hate you!!"

Victor groaned in pain and released my arm. I swung my fist at him, but Reverend Dawson was quick to catch it. "Calm down, son." He huffed as Victor grabbed my legs. "We are only trying to help you."

They carried me out to Victor's patrol car and tossed me into the back seat. I punched and kicked at the glass windows until Victor took a pair of handcuffs from his back pocket and secured them around my wrists.

Reverend Dawson climbed in the passenger seat and fastened his seatbelt. "Just relax now, Vincent. Everything is going to be alright."

"Grandma!" I screamed, staring at her through the window.

She reached out to open the door and Victor grabbed her wrist, shaking his head. Tears poured down her cheeks as she turned around and went back into the house. I choked back my own tears and laid my head against the back of the seat, defeated.

Victor winked at me before getting into the driver's seat. "You may as well settle down and enjoy the ride, boy. Try to think about all the nice people you'll meet at the infirmary."

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