Prologue
Romeo
Age Ten
Waking up cold, I notice my head hurts, and so does my leg. I blink a few times, the lights from above hazy and not helping the drum banging inside my skull. Using my hands to push to sitting up, I notice I can’t move them. Looking down, I’m in one of those straitjacket things, and my shorts are gone and replaced with a pair of white scrubs. My heart begins to beat so hard in my chest it feels like it’s lodged in my throat. Using my shoulders, I try to inch my arms down in an attempt to get out of the jacket. My body temperature rises with my failed attempt, and I suddenly feel sad, but still angry. How could my father let this happen to me?
Sliding off the bed, the cold black and white tile beneath my feet, I look to the door that is open, everything slowly coming back to me.
Sitting in the far back of the class, I’m slouched back, tapping the head of a pencil on the scratched up desk. The lights right above my head are bright, giving me a headache. The hard blue plastic chair is uncomfortable. I fidget in my seat, noticing the shirt clinging to my skin. I’m sweating for some reason, and my legs feel restless. The heel of my black Nikes have constantly tapped the tiled floor since class started over an hour ago. I’m off today, angry and annoyed. Pissed that I have to be here. I tried to stay home, but my mother wouldn’t have it. She made me go, which made me want to lash out even more. Father has suggested that my brother and I stay home multiple times because it’d be safer for us, but my mother refuses to acknowledge that the crime my father runs is as cold as the victims he’s subdued.
“Romeo, why don’t you read the next paragraph?” Mrs. Honey asked. My eyes peek through my eyelashes, my jaw tightens as everyone turns in their seat to look at me. Mrs. Honey. The sweet teacher that wears long flower dresses and has the hair color of actual honey. She should be teaching kindergarteners, not fifth graders.
“Pass,” I grumbled under my breath. I hate reading to the class and she knows this. I wish she’d just leave me alone today. I don’t want to be bothered.
“No, give it a try,” she pushes, and the unusual feeling I had inside of me since I woke up this morning breeds into something hostile and monstrous. Casen and Gunther laugh to themselves from the other side of the class and my eyes snap to them, both of them side-eyeing me. The cool kids, at least they think they are. Both with shaved heads, with band name t-shirts and ripped jeans. They’re just bullies and dumb fucks. Someone needs to show that Casen he’s not as tough as he thinks he is.
Sitting forward, I sigh heavily and flip the textbook open.
“Page 356, Taming the shrew,” Mrs. Honey instructs.
Swallowing the dryness suddenly in the back of my throat, the small black words seem like a lot, and are intimidating. My feet tap harder and faster, and I run my nails across the back of my neck nervously. I can read, but I do struggle with bigger words, and I hate reading out loud like this in class.
“Sit- sit by my side, and let the world… let the world slip…” My words fade, and I wipe my forehead of a sudden sweat. I’m screwing this up. I can feel all eyes on me, and I wish the book would just eat me whole. Why is it so damn hot in here?
“Keep going,” Mrs. Honey instructs with that sweet as candy voice.
“He can’t read, he’s stupid, teach’!” Casen shouts, the entire class erupting into laughter. I shove my book off the desk and look to him.
“Fuck you!” I snarl and stand from my seat.
“You wanna go, rich kid?”
“Whoa! No, both of you take your seats!” The teacher raises her hands, her head popping between me and Casen.
Not listening, I push through the desks and forcefully wrap my arm around his neck, he grunts, and I tighten my hold. Pulling him down, I punch him in the mouth with my other hand and Mrs. Honey lets out a scream when blood splatters to the class floor.
Casen cries out with pain, his arms flailing to reach me. Letting go of him, I let him get to his feet and then I shove him into a bunch of desks watching him tumble and fall across the floor like the weak little bitch that he is. Mrs. Honey hurries to separate us, blocking me from coming at him again.
“Both of you, principal’s office, now!” Her voice cracks with emotion, as if she wants to cry seeing her students do such harm to one another.
Casen stands, his nose bleeding and staining his white polo shirt. His menacing eyes stab into me, and the corner of my lip quirks up into a smile.
He sniffs and begins his journey to the front door. Brows furrowed, I start behind him, but something inside of me tells me I’m not done, he’s been running these halls scaring kids for years. A punch to the face doesn’t justify that. I’m angry, a fire burning inside of me so hot that it has me feeling in-human and more animalistic. No, I’m going to show this school what kind of guy Casen is, a boy who manifested his own problems onto other kids.
Just as Casen reaches the doorway, I grab him by the back of the head and slam his face into the metal doorframe. The sound of bone and metal is one I haven’t heard before.
Everyone screams from the brutal scene unraveling in front of them just as Casen falls to the ground and I kick him as hard as I can, throwing him into the bottom of the trophy case in the hall.
I can’t stop. All I want is to hurt him, using all my strength and hollering out in rage, making me feel more human than I have in a long time. I never want to stop, I just want to keep beating his ass up and down these halls.
Just as I’m about to lay into him, I’m shoved from behind and knocked to the ground. My chin bounces off the broken tile, and a knee shoves into my back, keeping me in place. The voice of our coach echoes in my ears as he tells me not to move, the smell of Old Spice deodorant making my eyes water. I try to pull from his grip, but I’m restrained. My fight is over, the roller coaster of emotions spinning inside of my head. Should I have done that? Is it too late to say sorry? Giving in, I let my face fall to the floor, my cheek on the cool tile. Mrs. Honey helps Casen off the floor, and I notice for the first time how beat up he really is. His face is nothing but blood, his lips slit to his chin. I did that in a blackout rage. The wheel of feelings lands on surprise. Surprised I had something so dark inside of me to do that to someone.
“Get the principal down here now!” Coach Coleman demands, his fat knee still in my back.
“Get off me!” I grunt, swinging my fists at his body.
Casen glances down at me, a look of terror now on his face. As much as it scares me to see what I’m capable of, it pleases me to know he won’t be messing with anyone anytime soon. Especially me.
I smile, that anger that was incased in my chest since I woke up this morning burning a little less hotter than earlier.
I feel better than I did this morning, but know I fucked up. I went too far, but I couldn’t stop myself. The feeling of relief, of whatever this is inside of me, that uncontrollable feeling was almost snuffed out by letting my rage out on Casen.
I sigh. There’s something wrong with me. I know this. I have so many emotions going through my head and body that all I ever feel is confused and pain. If only I could grab on to one feeling, sad, anger, happiness, any of them and just focus on it. Maybe, just maybe, I could control what I’m feeling and fix myself.