Deranged [REWRITTEN]

Chapter Eleven

So sorry I kept you all waiting! I promise I have several chapters to post.

Thank you so much for reading this!
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March, 2009

It was a rainy Sunday afternoon and the residence was awoken by the sound of smashing glass and piercing shouts.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, boy?" The old man yells at the boy cornered in the kitchen with glass surrounding his feet. The old lady watches from the doorway with hands on her hips and her head shaking. "I let you live under my roof and this is how you treat us?"

The boy stares at the glass, words going in one ear and out the other. He can't focus on the disappointment because he already knows that is what he is. Every home he moves into is never good enough. It's never real home. He acts out because that is all he knows. Love was taken from his life at such a young age.

"Tell me why you think it is okay to hurt people?" The lady spoke up, glaring at him.

"He started it," The boy spoke up, shrugging. "He called me orphan."

"That does not make it okay to hurt people. Nor does it make it okay to shatter my plates." She is seething as she looks at her shattered plates. "I have never, in my lifetime, met someone who cares so little for those surrounding them. You have manners to learn, young man."

"You are being too easy on him, Meredith," The old man speaks up. "He needs to be punished and taught the right way."

"What's that mean?" He glares at the old man.

"It means your head will be screwed on straight once we are done with you."

He doesn't know what that means but it makes him angry.

"What would your parents think about all of this? They wouldn't be so proud, would they?" The man taunts.

He wants to yell I don't know, they are dead because of me.

The boy clenches his fists and grinds his teeth. This sets him off. He is angry beyond belief and there is no going back. In a fit of rage, he spots the shiny keys sitting in a bowl on the counter. He steps on the glass towards the keys and grabs them.

"Where do you think you are going with those?" The old lady yells.

"You get the fuck back here with my keys!" The old man shouts. He ignores them and storms out of the front door towards the expensive car. He knows he's not a good driver, only being fifteen years old. But he doesn't care, he's been waiting to do this for forever.

He peels out of the residence and presses his foot on the gas. After driving as far away as he could without looking back, he lets out a loud laugh, excitement bubbling in his chest. He rolls down the window and lets the breeze flow through the car. He's going as fast as he can, driving far away from everything.

He's pushes harder on the pedal and the car picks up speed as the adrenaline coursing through this veins. Oh, how he wishes he could experience this feeling everyday. It takes him a few minutes to realize there are bright blue and red lights flashing behind him. He laughs again and throws his hand out of the window to flip them off.

What was an exciting journey comes to a sudden halt when he loses control of the steering wheel and the car jerks to the left. His seatbelt locks as the car flips two times before landing on its roof.

He's hanging upside down, blood from his nose running up to his eyes and his mouth tasting like blood. He groans in pain, knowing the short joyride will most likely be his last.

A couple of hands pull him roughly out of the car and he's pressed into the ground. His head feels heavy, like it was banged around a few times. The paramedics show up and they do their job of checking for injuries. He thinks his whole body is broken but they don't indicate it.

"What the hell is wrong with you, kid?" An officer speaks up.

He looks over at him with a bloody face and he gets an overwhelming urge to speak up and tell the cop his fist thinks his face looks delectable but he is too distracted by the thought itself, wondering where it came from.

He had to spend a good amount of time in the juvenile detention center after that night.

Present Day

A knock on the door startled me. I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn't even hear the footsteps outside my room.

"Come in," I speak up, burying myself further in my comforter. The door opens and my mom's head peaks through, a gentle smile on her face.

"You okay?" She asks, opening the door wide and stepping into my room. She looks over at my desk and picks up my jacket. I watch a she grabs a hanger from my closet to hang it.

"I'm okay, mom."

"I just want to make sure you are alright, hun," She turns to me and sits on the edge of my bed. I close my eyes when she reaches out to brush my hair with her hand. "I never want you to feel like you can't talk to me about what happened. Don't bottle it up inside."

I nod and smile at her.

"Don't worry, mom. Everything is okay." Correction: everything is far from okay.

She smiles and leans down to kiss my forehead. "I love you, sweet pea."

"Love you too, momma," I mumble. When she gets up and walks out, closing my door, I let out a big sigh. I roll around, facing the other side of my room with the window. I curse myself for getting involved in this twisted drama, a thing I have always seen the dumb girl in those horror movies do.

My eyelids droop and the feeling of exhaustion is taking over my body. Every bone in my body is too relaxed and warm under my comforter right now and the last thing I honestly worry about is him coming back in the middle of the night.

His words replay through my mind before I drift off into a slumber.

"I'll be back tomorrow. If you help me figure this out, then I'll leave you alone. For good."