“I give you an order and you defy me!” his father screamed. He looked like a blowfish.
“I don’t know what you are talking about,” he tried to side step his father and go to his bedroom but he grabbed him by the arm so hard it almost popped out of its socket.
He could see his mom standing at the doorway thinking furiously what to do or say to stop this.
“I went over there and you were not there, they said you never came.”
“Did they? I thought you never went there, how did you know where they lived?”
That’s when his father slapped him and took out his belt. He was used to the beatings now, and he was more defiant than scared.
“No, please stop,” his mother begged as his father started to beat him.
“You want to join him?” his father asked furiously.
“Mom stay out of it please,” he begged as his mother was covering her eyes, crying hard.
School was horrible, he couldn’t concentrate on anything. He just had a lot on his mind.
Some people in his class thought he was nuts but he didn’t mind. Between having a psychotic dad and a non-existent love life at his age, he was bound to be a little crazy.
“Hey get up!” somebody slammed their hand on his desk.
“Um sorry Mrs. Blemish,” he said half asleep and everybody fell into a fit of laughter and he didn’t understand why.
“It’s Blemis and I’m sending you to detention.”
Blemis, blemish, same thing. He shook his head.
He was alone with Mrs. Blemish at detention after school so he kept farting because he wanted to go home.
“Oh my lord what is wrong with you?” Mrs. Blemish cried.
“Sorry, I get very gassy sometimes,” he shrugged.
“Go home and drink something” she said dashing outside.
“Sure I’ll drink something,” he said taking his things and went home.
His dad was gone on business again, thank the Lord, and his mom looked a lot better today, she even went next door to have some tea with the ladies.
He went to his room and changed, then he studied for a while but he couldn’t get himself to concentrate. Suddenly he felt the need to sleep.
His phone rang then, it was Matt from the rugby team, he was telling him about a party they had on Saturday. He agreed to go because nobody talked to him much, so if suddenly they felt the need to be friends with him he wouldn’t deny them that.
“Mom, I’m going out.”
“Don’t be out too late,” she said.
“I won’t.”
“Be careful,” she said as he took his keys.
He walked to the deserted building they called the pit and he trudged upstairs with a torch and sat at some broken off wall. He took out a bottle of vodka he had stolen at home and started drinking not knowing that that would be the beginning of a long habit of drinking every afterschool.
He got kicked out of rugby but his academic record held steady.
Girls seemed to like him now and he slept with a lot of them. He was attending parties now and his father kept beating him but he didn’t care.
He didn’t care about anything anymore; he was just tired.
He had promised himself he would stop stalking the girl, but when he got drunk it was hard for him not to go to her house and just stare at it hoping she would come out. She never did.
Tell us: Do you think he should go to someone for help?