October 22, 2015  3:14 a.m.

I was naïve, blinded enough by my ego to think something like this would never happen to me. My heart and soul were once heavily guarded by a thick vault that was reinforced by years of denial and anguish. My rage became my solace and I relished in it. None of that mattered now, so much has changed. It all began the moment I allowed them into my life, slowly and deceptively, they manipulated me. Before they came along I felt no pain. My childhood had left me numb and life was so much easier that way.

If I could turn back the clock, I’d welcome every beating my parents ever gave me. I’d welcome the mental torture and thoughts of killing myself. Those were far more peaceful times, how I miss them so. Together they systematically picked me apart and were far from being done. She was the mastermind and when she removed her mask, her eyes revealed the emptiness of her soul. Unveiling herself as the true ice queen, she claimed Anchorage as her throne. So cold and heartless that she could wander through hell and not feel a thing.

With each step there’s the slushy splash of melted snow beneath my feet. Dingy tire tracks and black ice line the street as I continue to hobble to what I hope is safety. It always amazed me how snow, just like life, can start off so beautiful yet quickly turn ugly. Fatigue forced me to stop and lean against a parked car, I didn’t need to rest but apparently my body did. I should have bled out by now but the Alaskan air is helping to slow the bleeding, or so I thought. My wounds were plentiful and life threatening. Trembling, I fall to my knees while noticing the trail of blood I left for my pursuers. Somehow it shimmered in the moonlight, beautiful.

Even in my current state, I found amusement that all of my efforts to get away were in vain. More so the thought was that I could’ve just stood still and welcomed my release from this world. Through all of this, I wasn’t the only victim, but I was definitely the target… Mmh, this feels good, sitting on the ground with my back pressed against the car. How did it ever come to this? Only eleven months ago things were so normal... by my standards at least. As my head lowered and eyes began to close, I caught a glimpse of the puddle of blood that was forming around me. Though my mouth didn’t move, I forced a grin just as everything faded to black.

11 Months Ago

I started my day like any other; lying in bed unmoving, eyes wide open and staring at the ceiling. It is part of my morning routine you see; I remind myself how much my life sucks and how much I want to get out of this town and never look back. I have nothing against Anchorage; Alaska is a nice place to live. I just have no fond memories here and each day I wake up I’m reminded of just how stubborn I am. Too stubborn to take my own life due to pride, I think of it daily, quick and easy, gone with the wind like a whisper in the night. I’ve resisted this temptation for four years, no sense in pussing out now. I’ll graduate soon and finally be able to get out of this hell hole.

As always, my alarm goes off; which means its 6:30 a.m. I don’t sleep much, so I never need it; guess setting it is the normal thing to do. I reach over to my nightstand and hit the “Okay I get it” button. Though I’ve been awake for hours, I slothfully get up and sit at the edge of the bed, burying my face into my palm. Each day I dread leaving my room and having to see his face, but today my hesitation is heightened because it’s the last day before winter break.

Most kids would be excited for this day, but for me it only means I have to endure all of those happy-go-lucky fuckers at school. For an entire day, I’ll have to listen to them make plans, be cheery, and overall obnoxious… it’s sickening.

“Fuck it; let’s get this day over with it.” I huff while getting up and moving towards my bedroom door. Gently placing my hand on the knob, I turn it as quietly as possible in hopes that he’s not in the hallway. A brief sigh of relief escapes me after peaking out and seeing that the coast is clear. With eyes locked on the bathroom door, I quietly but swiftly make my way down the hall, which for some reason seems longer today than it normally does.

Success, after closing the door behind me, I turn on the shower, giving it time to warm then look into the mirror. Nothing to see here, nothing you’d look twice at. An average looking face with no incredible defining features, both ears pierced, though I stopped wearing earrings years ago. A college cut hairdo with brown eyes… yep pretty plain. Actually, I guess my eyes are my one defining feature as everyone thinks I’m half Asian because they’re tighter than normal. However, I’m not mixed, just your average black guy who just so happens to have slightly more squinted eyes than normal. My one defining feature comes from people assuming I have a trait from another race, go figure. Again, I’m nothing you’d look twice at if you passed me on the street.

I close my eyes and run my hand over my head while dreading this final day before the break. It is what it is; I place one hand on the sink while using my other to slide my boxer briefs to the floor. Ready to jump in the shower, I take one last look at myself in the mirror. At first unsure if my eyes were deceiving me, I squint and lean forward, trying to see through the now steamed glass. My eyes widen while my heart starts to race. I try to gasp, but only a hollow whistle echoes from within as the moisture in my throat and mouth seemingly evaporated, sealing my lips together.

I know it’s not real, it’s impossible… instead of my own reflection, I see her… I stumble back until I’m awkwardly pressed against the wall and towel rack. My head slightly tilts, expecting the image to change and prove that I haven’t gone crazy… but nothing changes, she continues to stare right at me with those glistening hazel eyes. I’m losing my mind. No, it’s early in the morning; I hardly sleep as it is, and the steam from the shower has fogged up the mirror, that’s it! That has to be it… right?

She wears no expression, though her eyes tell a story of misery and regret. I feel a sharp pain as my lips try to peel apart. So dry that it hurts, I can feel my skin tearing but I don’t care. Finally as the last bit of skin breaks free and allows my mouth to open, I try to speak. She slowly turns her back to me and vanishes, as if not wanting to hear what I had to say.

My initial thought was that maybe I should skip the shower today. Being who I am I can’t just not shower… so that’s out. My reflection stares back at me, just as lost in thought as one would be in a situation like this. Did all those years of deprived sleep finally catch up with me? I wanted to go back to my room and pretend none of this happened, I mean for all I know I’d get back to my room and see myself lying there sound asleep, then boom! I wake up from my dream… or was it a nightmare?

The idea is quickly shattered after hearing footsteps followed by the sound of the refrigerator opening. Ugh, every day I have to look at him and every morning it’s the same thing. He’s a creature of habit and routine as I am. Accepting that I’m absolutely not going to acknowledge what I thought just happened, I jump in the shower.

“Shit fucking son of a….!” I angrily grumble, making as little noise as possible, though the kitchen is just down the hall so I know he hears the shower. Of course the water is freezing now, to be expected. I didn’t really think it would stay warm and toasty for me while I recovered from what was clearly a mini mental breakdown. So goes my life, these are the kind of problems I endure while other kids worry about how they’re going to get to a party, or how they’ll get alcohol for said party.

After taking a Navy Shower, I dried off, wrapped a towel around my waist, quickly brushed my teeth, then headed for the door. I paused and thought about checking the hallway first, but since I know he’s up and has obviously heard me in the shower, I decided to gun it for my bedroom. Just before exiting the door frame, I see his outline in my left peripheral. Not dumb enough to fully acknowledge and let him know I see him, I vote against making eye contact, turn right and hastily make my way down the hall. My footsteps echo off the wood floor as I continue to increase my strides, finally disappearing into my room and closing the door behind me.

Yes! Master of avoidance, prince of stealth, king of covertness! I am a thief in the…

“Danté, I know you saw me standing there!”

You know what? I can’t even say I’m surprised. Between the shower and the heels of my feet pounding against the floor, there was no way I’d go unnoticed. Though there’s nothing wrong with dreaming… unless you’re dreaming while awake and seeing things that aren’t really there of course.

“Your point!?” I shout back.

“Don’t make me come in there and kick your ass!”

I can’t even begin to count how many times that empty threat has been made. Have you ever had that person growing up who was freakishly stronger than you and chose to make your life a living hell? Go ahead, take your time and think about it. Brother, sister, cousin, uncle, aunt, mother, father, or the all-time classic and my personal favorite, the bully from school. It always brought me great joy when I saw someone get what they deserved in the end.

The weak become the strong and are able to stand up for themselves; shattering the bigger person’s ego and ultimately embarrassing them in front of their peers. Well my bully isn’t from school, he’s at home. I take that back, he was my bully until one day I set him straight. That didn’t change his dynamic though, now it’s just verbal assaults since he found out physical ones won’t work anymore.

“Your point James, make it or shut the fuck up!” I fire back while sliding on a fresh pair of boxer briefs.

Man, this last day of school is looking more and more appealing as the morning goes on, can’t wait to walk out the door. Suddenly I hear the sound of a chair sliding against the floor. My initial thought was that he’s getting up from the kitchen table to make his move. He wouldn’t would he? We had our scuffle a year ago and he lost, never to lay hands on me again since that day. Granted getting beat up by someone younger and half your size is never a good look, especially in front of your girlfriend.

Expecting the worst, I quickly put on a pair of khakis and a blue short-sleeved v-neck. I’m not trying to get into a brawl in my underwear for crying out loud. With my eyes on the doorknob waiting for it to turn, I listen… nothing, not a sound. What the hell is he up to? Stealing a glance at the clock, I notice that it’s now 7:10. Was I really in the bathroom that long? School starts at 8:15 and I pride myself on being punctual; I don’t have time for this.

Reaching into the top drawer, I grab the first roll of socks I come across. Along the baseboard, just outside of the closet, my shoes are lined up neatly. Of course I reach for the oxfords to go along with my pants. It must have been by instinct because I don’t even remember picking up my backpack. Allowing it to fall to the floor, I remind myself that it’s the last day before break and I’m a senior. Instead I grab my watch from the dresser and shove it into my pocket while leaving the room.

I’m sure to watch my blind side while swiftly making my way down the hall and to the kitchen. There’s clear urgency with my OCD to be on time, but I’m also not trying to be caught off guard from a sneak attack. Reaching my destination, I discover that I was wrong. It would seem as though the sound I heard was in fact a chair being slid across the floor, but it wasn’t so he could get up and kick my ass. Instead it was to make room for his guilty pleasures. On one knee rested a beer he was holding, and on the other sat his whore, two items that were explicably cheap and easy to obtain.

Look at them, no respect for themselves or for those around them. He sits there looking like shit. In all fairness, he’s shit to me. To the world he’s not a bad looking guy, you could even go as far as to say he’s dashing with his slicked back hair and light beard. Like every morning though, he sits in his chair and relishes each sip. I’ll give him credit, for as much beer as he drinks; it’s amazing that he keeps his medium build for a guy that doesn’t work out.

Apparently wearing nothing but a long white t-shirt is lady like, because clearly his guest feels as though that’s all she needs to wear while in someone else’s home. How do I know she’s only wearing a t-shirt and nothing else? Well for one this white shirt is see through and if this were a wet t-shirt contest you wouldn’t even need to pour water on her. With that said, I’ll assume that she’s not wearing underwear either. As a matter of fact, I’m so sure that I’m willing to put money on it. Look at her, sitting in his lap with arms wrapped around his neck while he takes another swig, how romantic.

“Took you long enough.” He belched out with no regard to the woman sitting in his lap.

“Really James, you’re timing me now or something?”

“You show him the respect he deserves.” His lap ornament chimed in after peeling her lips from his ear. My stomach curled and I suddenly felt sick. I don’t know if its because she actually made a sentence that would imply him being worthy of my respect, anyone’s for that matter. Or the fact that I just watched her pull her tongue from out of his ear.

“How about you show some respect for yourself and put some damn clothes on.”

Her jaw dropped and eyes squinted. I give her credit for not even flinching at the sound of James slamming the beer bottle on the table.

“Watch your mouth lil nigga!” He bellows while jumping to his feet, almost sending his floozy flying. However she gracefully lands on her feet as if she’s use to being tossed around… you know, like a woman in her profession would be.

His body language was clear and not to be misunderstood. He must have drank so much the night before that he washed away all recollection of how this turned out for him last time. She quickly stretched her arm out to block him and stepped forward herself.

“It’s okay babe.” She said with a smile as she approached me.

Her shirt wasn’t as long as I thought, thankfully I was wrong again and she was wearing underwear.

“Danté what’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” She asks while directing with her hands for me to look her up and down. I decline the invitational while James crashes back into his chair with a chuckle.

“What’s wrong boy, scared to look at woman?”

Scared to look at a woman? No, never that. Admittedly she filled out the shirt quite nicely, but I have standards. I’m not going to fixate on some slut I know almost half of the seniors at school have run through.

I turn away with a sigh and get ready to head out. As my hand meets with the screen door, “James, I really wish you’d just die and make life easier for alot of people.”

“You really are a disrespectful little shit aren’t you?” she shouts.

He didn’t respond, instead I hear the sound of him jumping up. Not willing to entertain these two any longer, I walk out the door and begin making my way across the backyard. Taking this shortcut should make up for lost time. Speaking of which, I reach into my pocket for the watch so I can see just how late I’m going to be. Before I can even check the time, the door flies open.

“Watch how you talk to him, he’s your father after all!”

Her words stopped me in my tracks. No one wants a person who spreads their legs to make a living trying to give them life advice... I clinch the watch so tightly that I hear something break, “You stupid bitch, you know nothing about me or my family!”

As I turn around I see that James had bulldozed her to the ground and a beer bottle spiraling right at me.