Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 59448 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 238(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59448 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 238(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
“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.
But it’s a slippery string of moods I never can invest in. All I know is the pain in my chest, the darkness in my heart.
Sitting on a bench outside the principal’s office, Coach still restraining me, he sits behind me, holding my arms behind my back. Not only were my parents called, but there are two police officers. All of them talking in the office. Moments later my dad walks out, a grim look on his face. He’s wearing a pinstriped suit, his shoes shiny. His dark hair slicked back aside from a curl rebelling and falling into the middle of his forehead. “Son, you’re going to go to a hospital for twenty-four hours,” he says, rubbing his chin.
“What? Why? I’m not hurt.” I’m confused, Casen should be going to the hospital. My mother steps up behind him, a black dress with giant water-painted flowers printed on it. Her mascara has run down her face, her eyes glossy as she stares at me with a deep stare.
“The rage you have is not normal, you could have killed that boy!” Her voice raises, and a tug of guilt throbs in my chest.