I told you, Jo, we were
meant to be.
13
“Hahahaha!!!” I laugh hysterically
squeezing and tearing at the sides of my head, trying to swallow
the thick disgust stuck deep in my throat as I catch a glimpse at
my seemingly normal reflection.
“I sure showed that bitch, huh?!” I scream
and laugh again into the dark foggy air around me, getting no
response other than my own cackling.
What a fool I actually was.
From this point I can't decide whether to
keep howling like a hyena until I cease to exist or swallow these
candy ass feelings and embrace the demon.
Who am I kidding? I want
this shit to happen. I want to relive all of it, each and every
horrid memory. I
want
to feel pain. I want to feel something! I want to feel on top
again. I want to be the fucking King of the World!
I am the king.
No one is equal to me.
No one.
Jo Jo could have been....
“Fuck you, Bitch,” I murmur under my breath
as my insides float on a sea of self satisfaction, covering up any
and all shame that dared to surface.
Let's face it, sometimes I am the bad guy.
A damn good one, too. I just have to own up to the fact that I like
it.
14
“It smells like nerds in
here.”
“That's what intelligence smells like. I'm
not surprised it's foreign to you.”
Mike and I both turned to
see
him
standing
behind the large wooden desk. My stomach churned at the thought of
having to see his cocky little face after yesterday's encounter. I
sucked in a large breath of air. He was not better than
me!
“Carter, you..,” Mike started forward, fist
ready. I grabbed his arm, shaking my head that this was not the
time nor the place.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I
growled.
“I could ask you the same question, but I
just assume you got lost. Daddy's GPS not working? I think the
strip club is on the other side of town. This is the library. I
work here,” he snapped back.
My lips tightened into a thin angry line,
my teeth grinding furiously against themselves as I tried to keep
my cool.
“Ballsy, Carter. You a fucking comedian
now? I'd love to see how funny you are when I'm kicking your teeth
in,” I snarled, stepping closer.
“Keep your cool, Conan.
This is a quiet zone,” he smirked, pointing to a faded cardboard
sign with a thick red line through the word “noise”. My face
flushed as I realized the other know-it-alls were beginning to
stare at the sudden interruption of their silence. I swallowed my
anger and my pride for the second time in the last twenty four
hours and seceded.
This is beginning to
become a trend,
I thought shamefully. I
couldn't let this happen much longer. This little dickhead needed
to be put back in his place, and soon.
“What do you want, JJ?” he asked, trying to
bring back the status quo of library calm. My mind was so full of
hatred that I nearly forgot why we came into this vault of
losers.
“I need a book,” I answered shortly.
“Well, you've come to the right place,” he
responded, making an exaggerated effort to be professional. I could
see a small bead of sweat roll down the side of his face as he came
out from behind the counter. He appeared nervous and shaky, but
willing to fight if need be. I wondered how deep this sudden boost
of confidence ran.
I guess if I had her I'd
be on top of the world too,
I thought
sadly as I watched him.
“What kind of book are you looking
for?”
“Umm, one of those play things. Romeo and
Juliet,” I said quietly, almost ashamed.
He stared quizzically
back, no doubt wondering if I could even read such a thing, but
said nothing. He pointed to the right without a word and ushered me
to the Shakespeare section.
“Bottom row to the left,” he said matter of
factly and walked back to the front desk. I was thankful for his
composure. I peered down at several copies of all sizes and shapes,
but resulted in grabbing the first one, not seeing what the
difference could possibly be. It was an old, tattered, red copy,
picture free and void of anything appealing. I had a hard time
believing anyone could have picked this up and thought, “Hey, this
looks like a good read!”.
“You really think that'll work?” Mike
whispered after Harvey was out of earshot.
I shook my head, “I don't know, Man,” I
confided. I almost wished Mike knew the extent of my desperation.
This had to work. I was running out of options, especially
now.
15
I ripped off my mud
covered boot and chucked it hard at the dirty mirror. It rocketed
through the air, smashing the glass, sending millions of sparkling
chunks of gleaming gems all around in slow motion. For a split
second, it rained razor shards of crystal droplets.
In a flash, my shoe was back on my aching
foot, and the mirror, once again whole, shining menacingly back at
me. The mirror remained unbroken, but my soul gained another
hairline fracture. This wasn't the first time I had attempted to
free myself from the looking glass.
I don't know why I keep trying. I know it
won't break. I'll break before it does. That's the point, right? To
break me for the bad things I've done.
“
Go ahead and break me, Bitches.”
Jokes on them. There's
not much left to break.
16
You wouldn't know it to
see how I turned out, but I had a pretty happy childhood. My
parents were great when I was a kid. We went on vacations, had
family picnics at the park, camping, and movie nights in the living
room. The perfect little family. Then one night, it all came
undone. Things were still good for the most part, but Ma never
looked at Dad the same. I never looked at
him
the same either.
*
“I found
this
in the bottom of
your sock drawer,” Mom said angrily, throwing a folded piece of
paper directly in Dad's face.
He clumsily caught it, instantly blanching
at the contents in his hand. He stared at the paper for a long time
before looking up to meet my mom's enraged face. Her eyes were
daggers as they bore into him.
“You had better answer me, Jackson!”
I had never seen anyone,
especially my quiet mother, speak to my dad in that way. I couldn't
believe he was actually letting her yell at him like that. I tucked
myself farther down against the railing of the stairs, suddenly
frightened that she would see me. My mom had never laid a hand on
me, but I didn't want to have her start by catching me
eavesdropping. I clutched my brown bear tighter to my chest,
closing my eyes, and praying I wouldn't be found. I thought at
first to run back to my room and hide under the covers, but my
curiosity kept me glued to the unfolding scene. So this is what it
was like to have parents who fought?
Dad's mouth went dry as he looked for the
words to say to Ma. Her hands began to ball into tight little
fists, her shiny polished fingernails digging furiously into the
palms. I could see the faintest tear begin to fall down her flushed
cheek. Dad looked shameful as he finally opened his mouth to
speak.
“I'm sorry, Sarah. I don't know what else
to say. I made mistakes. It's in the past, and has been for a long
time. Please, Sarah, please forgive me. You have to understand,” he
begged. I almost waited for him to drop to his knees at her feet,
but he remained standing.
Mom's eyes softened briefly as she stepped
forward, stretching out her hand to stroke his stark white cheek,
but reached back and slapped him hard across the face instead. The
sharp stinging sound echoed through the living room, ringing in my
ears while I hid up the stairs. I sucked in a gasp, disbelieving
what was happening in front of me. I quickly clasped my hands over
my mouth, my heart pounding loudly, sure I would be found. No one
stirred. No one moved for the longest ten seconds I had ever
experienced.
“You bastard,” Mom said coldly, breaking
the silence as she shoved her pink swollen hand into the pocket of
her jeans.
Dad raised his shaking hand up to the side
of his reddened cheek. I was scared that he would hit her back
after that, but he made no attempt to retaliate.
What did you do,
Dad?!
I wanted to scream, but held back.
Mom wasn't done with him yet.
“So, all this time you two acted like
enemies, like you hated her, when you really had the wool over
everyone's eyes. Are you still seeing her? Do you still love her,
Jackson?! Who else knows about this? Does the whole damn town know
what a fool I am?” she cried out, the tears streaming faster with
each rise of her voice.
Dad remained silent.
“I guess I'm the big joke around here now,
huh? I bet everyone goes around saying, 'Oh look, there's the
cheater's wife! Wonder how stupid she is to not know?!',” she
released her hand and slapped him again, harder this time,
flinching from the pain. The sharp snap of skin on skin repeating
over and over again in my head.
“How could you keep this
from me? From
us
!
What the hell were you thinking? They're in the same damn class for
God's sake, Jackson! What if he had said something to JJ?!” she
screamed pointing toward the staircase. Towards me. I
panicked,
Does she know I'm
here?!
Dad stood still, head
down. He looked painfully belittled and sad. My heart pitied
him.
“No one else knows. The kid doesn't even
know as far as I'm aware. Trina never even told her parents,” Dad
replied quietly, lowering his gaze.
Mom looked shocked, almost
sad.
Who doesn't know what? What kid is he
talking about?
I wondered feverishly,
hoping Dad would spill his beans. I began firing off in my head the
names of all the kids in my class trying to pinpoint who it might
be.
“I don't have anything to do with them, I
swear. I haven't even talked to her since she was pregnant. I chose
you, Sarah. You and Jacky. Doesn't that count?”
Mom thought for a long time before
answering, “Does it count to them?” was all she said bluntly and
walked out of the room.
17
That moment changed how I saw the world. Of
course, Mom knew I was at the staircase that night. She always
knew. They sat me down the next day and explained how we all make
mistakes in life, and how sometimes we have to take responsibility
for our actions by doing the right thing even when we don't want
to.
Blah blah blah. What happy horse shit.
All I got out of that discussion was that
Harvey fucking Carter was my brother because the Old Man couldn't
keep it in his pants in high school. I wasn't his only son. I
wasn't his number one anymore. I would have to share his heart
forever with a skinny, nothing, geek, loser.
That new knowledge tore a hole in my heart
that only refilled with hatred. I hated Harvey Carter from that
moment on. I hated that he was a part of me. Worse yet was that I
couldn't tell anyone or family's dirty secret. Not like I'd
actually want to admit it, but no one could ever know he was my
brother. No one.
Turns out that was a lie too.
*
Pop Pop walked into the
front entryway without knocking as usual. Having built this house
years ago he just assumed it still belonged to him. I hopped down
the stairs and met him as he began to walk through to the kitchen
where Dad was reading the paper.
“Hey, Pop Pop!” I said eagerly. I loved
having my grandpa over. He was tough and took no one's crap. I
wanted to be just like him. Plus, he always brought me
caramels.
“Hiya, Jacky. Dad home?” he asked already
knowing the answer, but being cordial anyway. He may have been a
hard ass, but he grew up with manners. Even if he never
knocked.
I pointed toward the kitchen, following
closely behind as he dropped two soft caramels into my hand from
the confines of his jacket pocket. Dad looked up from his coffee
and paper, unimpressed with his father's lack of privacy. His face
hardened slightly as he set the newspaper down on the long wooden
table. Pop Pop either didn't seem to notice Dad's irritated face,
or just didn't care.
“We need to have a little chat, Son,” Pop
Pop announced, all sincerity gone from his voice, his own face now
hardening.
Dad nodded for me to leave. I stepped out
of the kitchen compliantly acting like I was heading outside, but
hovered just far enough away from the door to not be seen.
“What do you want, Dad?”
“Bank statement says you're giving money to
the whore again,” he replied frankly.
My mouth went dry and my
insides boiled furiously.
Now he was
giving them money?! So not only was I being forced to share a blood
line with this little turd, but now I had to share
my
father's hard earned
money to support that lazy good for nothing
whore. I wasn't exactly sure what a whore was, but if Pop Pop
called her that, then so did I.
“You checking up on me again? I thought we
were over that kind of crap. I'm just doing the right thing,
Dad.”