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A guy leaned on the hood of his car, questioning his entire existence. Charming, wealthy parents, an environment befitting his status, yet he was wholly empty on the inside. The rich also cry. The soul of this young man kept bursting into tears, dying every day for over eight months.
***
He pondered at his classroom desk, going over what had happened in his head. His eyes were sealed shut, as though he was in a slumber. Truth be told, this stripling lost the privilege of sleeping after what he had done. A mistake, an unforgivable mistake that provokes his self-loathing to triumph over his loathing for life itself; a mistake that cost him everything.
The girl filed a police report. A report which her parents intented to take to court. Such a naïve thing to believe in, when the world's justice has long been run by money. Despite this desperate attempt, his family was already a step ahead. The outcome of the trial unfolded before it ever entered the courtroom.
Something crashing loudly onto the table cut short the final-year high school boy's brooding. His eyes flew wide-open, and he noticed Lamborghini Hurricane keys on his desk and his friends crowded around him.
"What's that?" the boy asked his fellows indifferently.
"Your prize. Have you forgotten?" the most active of all of them responded. "Although the terms of the dare were different, you've done everything to perfection."
His 'friend's' words infuriated him. Without warning, he jumped up from his chair and grabbed the collar of the fellow's perfectly ironed shirt.
"She just got released from the asylum. I'm awaiting trial, and you think everything's just peachy?" he growled with great anger at his opponent's face.
"Ugh, come on... You know you're not going to prison! At least, now that piece of trash knows her place in society..."
Those words released all the hatred that had accumulated inside him towards these people and himself for that ill-conceived dare. He could no longer contain himself: the red mist descended over his vision, the muscles of his jaw tensed and his fists clenched the collar they held even tighter. He head-butted the person in front of him with force. When he let go of his collar, his victim fell to the ground, drenched in his own blood. Blood fountained from his broken nose and his split lip, his face thoroughly smashed, just like their friendship.
"I loved her!" the boy shouted in rage, trying to break free from the restraining hands of his classmates.
His eyes blazed hatred at the people surrounding him and even the class teacher, trying to intervene, could not affect the raging student until security arrived.
He took the keys from his desk and dangled them in front of his ex-friend's battered face.
"Since it happened, I think I'll give her a car..."
"Mr. Wood! Leave the school grounds immediately and come see the principal with your parents tomorrow!" said the indignant teacher of the hopelessly interrupted class.
The young man smiled at his memories as he stood at the trading pier, breathing in the fresh Atlantic air. He was very handsome: about six feet tall, with a slant to his eyes that gave them an intriguing, foxlike quality. His nose was somewhat pointed, and he had a small mole above his upper lip. All this drove the girls mad, and condemned them to suffer: his soul was with another, the one he wanted to return to with all his heart.
He hated his life. Hated his family, who put their business dealings above the happiness of their child. They had already decided everything for him, like the fate like an item on auction, changing hands between business associates.
***
"Her name's Alana! And we love each other!" youth screamed as he tried to convey to his parents that their chosen bride was unacceptable in this case.
"I don't want to hear anything!" a woman's scream burst from the guestroom. "Who is she? And her family? The unworthy will never step into this house or get my blessing! Do you understand me?!"
"She doesn't need your mangy money..." the boy hissed through his teeth, barely restraining himself from smashing everything there to pieces.
"My dear!" said his mother as she burst into hysterical laughter. "Everyone needs money! Do you think she loves you for your soul? No!!! Such harlots love you only for your status and the chance to get out of the slums!"
"Don't you dare talk like this about her!"
"I'll tell you even more... Your Alana, will cheat an idiot like you at the first opportunity ..."
Her son's patience ran out. He flipped over the table with a tea set on, and left the house, slamming the door.
With a desperate sigh, he rubbed his face with his palms. He had to clear his head, and what better way than with a good shot of adrenaline? Opting to get behind the wheel of his red sports car, he zipped through the busy streets of Boston. Something in his subconscious led him to the Harvard Medical School's grounds.
I'm glad she got in. The thought flashed through his mind as he examined the school's majestic white building. Her parents were wiser than I thought.
***
After getting an enormous sum from selling the car, he didn't know how to give it to his beloved's family. The road led him to her house, but he couldn't dare to get out of the car. Fear kept him in his seat; not for himself, but for the girl, as her mental state was still fragile. The only thing he had left of her was a photo of them together. It warmed the young egoist's soul.
Spotting the familiar woman, the young man rushed from the car.
"Mrs. Moore..."
"What are you doing here?" the girl's mother said with such hatred. He froze at the sight.
"I was hoping to meet you and won't take much of your time," he said and got out a thick white envelope. "I wanted to give you this."
"We've already told your parents everything," a woman said through her teeth. She looked like she was ready to rip his throat out.
"This isn't from my family... Let's say – someone repaid a debt, but I have no need for it," the young man said calmly and confidently. "Alana dreamed about Harvard, and tuition is expensive. Therefore, I'm hoping for your wisdom and prudence. I don't doubt that you try your utmost to provide your daughter with nothing but the best and help her recover sooner."
"This changes nothing. The trial will still take place."
"Great, then I'll see her there..." he said and put the envelope in the woman's hand. "And, I'd like to ask you for a little favor: please don't tell Alana about this." Looking down at Mrs. Moore's clenched hands, continued. "If she asks where the money is from, just come up with something: say you've saved up, took a loan, or even stole it, it doesn't matter. But there's no need to tell her the truth. Let it be a lie for the better. There should be enough there for three to four years of study."
Without another word, the boy turned around, got into his car, and left the familiar street behind.
Everything was going smoothly, and soon he would see his beloved in person, instead of only in the video reports he was getting. Inspired by this thought, the youngster continued his drive through the lively streets.
***
The trial was in progress, but the boy had only a half-an ear on it. His attention was drawn on to the young girl: knackered, skinny, but still the most beautiful woman in the world. He was looking at her continuously, memorizing and absorbing the form of his dearest.
I'd like to apologize and tell you how much I regret what had happened. I'm ready to wallow at your feet, begging for forgiveness. Right now, I'd do anything to get you back. The thought went over and over in the boy's head, but on leaving the courtroom, he could only mumble that they would meet again.
The separation tore him apart, and when they moved to another city, he felt buried alive, yet he knew he had to wait a little while and things will get better. With this thought and a smile on his face, the young man left the court after getting a suspended sentence.
That dreamy smirk was still on his face, making him look like a lovesick fool. However, as he passed the Back-Bay district, he noticed Mike Norton's parked car near the Copley Square, and all his enthusiasm drained away. They were never friends, but something made him get out of the car. Scanning the park, he noticed a familiar group of people, accompanied by his beloved. They were having lots of fun, laughing, when suddenly Norton picked up Alana and carried her to the fountain.
Jealousy immediately consumed him, his blood started boiling...
Son of a bitch! She's mine! The thoughts boomed inside his head, one louder than the other, as he watched the couple splashing about in the water.
You're feeling better already, aren't you little mouse? Then we'll see if you're ready for our meeting. It's time to take back what's mine.
Once in the car, he drove away, disappearing behind a corner into an unknown direction.