H. A. Carter (10 page)

“Harv...Harvey, please,” he begged again,
reaching out his hand.

Hushed sorrowful tears fell down Joanna's
pink cheeks as JJ plead pitifully below us.

“Shut the fuck up, JJ. You deserve this, and
you know it. No more excuses for you, Brother,” I growled,
emphasizing my deep impenetrable hatred.

JJ's eyes widened with horror as an epiphany
of brutal reality seeped into his understanding.

“No...no...you..”

Bang!

JJ's head seemingly exploded back in slow
motion, blood spraying in all directions from the close range
impact, the dark black of the bullet hole growing uncontrollably
deep with impending emptiness. His mutilated body lay still as the
gun shot resounded deep in my heartbroken spirit. Sharp, stinging
tears seeped down my face, leaving a burning trail across my
cheeks. The gun hot in my hands.

Joanna's hand covered her mouth tightly as
she forced back an ocean of anguished sobs. Her eyes not opposed to
looking directly at JJ's expressionless vacant stare now.

I lowered my head disgracefully. I had to let
her know. I couldn't keep it to myself anymore. It was too late for
her to stop me now anyway.

I hope she can forgive me. Please, let her
forgive me for this.

All I ever really wanted out of life was just
to be accepted. I didn't even have to be well liked or tolerated,
just accepted that I was who I was and that was okay with the
world. Is that really so much to ask of a person? When does the
right to exist become something that is earned instead of given? Am
I not a human just the same as you? Do I not bleed? Cry? Hurt?
Love?

What part of humanity do I not fit into?!

I get that what I did in the grand scheme of
life was not right. I know it wasn't right to take such drastic
vengeance, but I'm still human through all of my flaws.

I am still human, aren't I?

Sometimes even this once assured concept of
life seems to escape me.

Good God, I've really lost it now.

I'm cracking. I honestly never thought it
would come to this, but I truly believe I am starting to break
Here. I wonder how long others last before they break? Am I
unusually strong willed, or just a weak specimen in comparison to
other souls?

Ha! Even Here I care what They think of my
humanity! I hate myself that I actually want to be accepted Here.
Why do I crave acceptance from even the worst beings? It's just
human nature to want to be a part of the group, I guess. But, if I
have lost my humanity, where does that leave me?

I am truly breaking down.

My weary head rested heavily across my smooth
wooden desk. My insides were on fire, the raging heat rifling
straight to my brain. I needed to go home.

I lay unmoving for a great length of time.
Luckily, junior high study hall teachers could care less what you
do with your time as long as it wasn't bothering them. John poked
me sharply in the back with his orange pencil.

“Harvey? What are you doing? Are you sick or
something?”

I lifted my head only inches from the desk
and gathered just enough energy to nod once. My eyes drooped
uncontrollably as I fought to stay awake.

“Do you want me to get the teacher?” John
asked, concerned.

I pondered this for a brief second before
deciding it was pointless. My mother was not at home, nor could she
be if I had to leave. I peered at John again through foggy eyes and
shook my head.

He sat back in his seat as I put my head back
on the cool desktop. I was seconds away from a peaceful
rejuvenating sleep when a slimy sticky glob came flying from the
back of the room and landed in the depths of my shaggy flaxen
hair.

I awoke with a start and quickly reached
behind me to fetch the mystery object, only to realize it was a
large piece of extra chewy bubble gum. It stuck to my fingers like
sugary molasses, and clung securely to the base of my hairline. I
pulled hard to release it. Long skinny pink strings of gum began to
emerge into my vision. I kept pulling and pulling, relieving only
minute strands at a time.

My mom is going to kill me!

Giggles rose from the corner of the room as I
pulled the gooey substance from my hair bit by bit. I didn't even
have to look to know exactly who it was.

I kept pulling unsuccessfully at the clumping
gum when another wad landed on my back. This

time I started to turn, ready to fire an
insult that would surely get my ass kicked later, but John beat me
to the punch.

He charged to the back of the room in a blur,
shoving JJ against the wall with lightening speed and animalistic
force.

“Leave him the fuck alone, Prick!”

JJ's eyes bulged in surprised fright as
John's massive arm pinned him hard against the chipped blue paint
of the wall. His awestruck face showing only signs of shock rather
than remorse.

“Sorry, Man, my bad,” JJ muttered innocently,
throwing his hands in the air.

John let go, returning to his seat and
resuming his history homework.

“You know, Johnny, if you ever want to have a
real life you could do a lot better than Carter! Think about it,”
JJ called after him.

Mr. George's irritated figure sauntered over
in an exaggerated annoyance at having to leave the comfort of his
desk.

John looked up disgracefully, knowing he had
crossed the line, even for the lackadaisical study hall
teacher.

“Detention after school, Mr. Brenner.”

He handed John an orange slip of paper that
screamed delinquent to the rest of the teaching staff. John took
the piece of paper, shamefully lowering his head.

As Mr. George walked away, I desperately
wondered why JJ was not getting a detention slip too. He threw the
gum in the first place! John was only sticking up for me and once
again JJ skates by.

I tried to look at John through my weary
eyes, but failed to get any kind of response. He kept

his eyes focused on his desk, but I could
tell he was fuming.

The bell sounded loudly, startling me. I
began to gather my things slowly, feeling my stomach lurch with
every movement. I turned to see John already storming out the door
without me. Guilt

started to rise deep in my gut along with the
sickness that was close to overpowering my senses.

A hard shove invaded both emotions as JJ's
hand plummeted into my back, sending my papers reeling to the
floor.

JJ leaned over as I tried to scavenge the
disarray of history notes and English papers.

“One of these days, Carter, Big John's not
going to be around to save your ass. And when that day comes,
you're in for it,” he whispered menacingly as I stared at the
floor.

I was silent. I had no witty comeback, or
even an argument against his comment. He was right. I hated to
think of it, but it was true. As school got progressively harder,
we were not going to be in the same classes anymore. I would be
alone. And I would be fair game.

Joanna rolled her eyes in aggravated
annoyance. She let out a tremendous huff that was clearly not made
loud enough for JJ to get the hint, as he kept going.

“You and me, Babe. Two against the world.
Come on, what do you say? We were made for each other,” he smoothed
back his hair with his most debonair gesture, winking and puckering
his lips in her direction.

A look of utter revolt swept across her face,
her jaw dropping in disgust at his crude forwardness. She quietly
gagged and heaved in disdain, again, hoping he would get the
drift.

JJ sat back James Dean style in his seat with
egotistical satisfaction. I empathized with her nauseous
displeasure at his advances. JJ was such an arrogant jerk. I
laughed slightly enjoying his current failure, even if he was
unaware of it.

Joanna gained her composure, took a deep
breath and turned to JJ's slouched figure.

“Dear, Sweet JJ,” she began with a forced
smile, “although I'm sure you are just the highlight of some other
bimbos lives, you are not, nor will you ever be mine. I suggest you
take your weak ass swagger somewhere else. I hear the girls you
usually date are willing to accept credit cards these days. Maybe
Daddy can buy you a new girlfriend. Although, it might cost you
extra to include that big ego of yours.”

JJ pursed his lips in agitation. I could feel
the heat of rejection and anger penetrate the entire room. His jaw
clenched tight, and he bawled his fist defensively. JJ walked
heavily toward her desk, leaned down and gripped the edges,
squeezing so hard I thought the pressed wood may crack under the
pressure. He stared her down with intense fury, daring her to say
another word. His body hovering close to hers in chilling
intimidation. His hand slowly letting go of the desk and rising
toward the now pink of her cheek.

I feared his “to the moon, Alice” attitude
and prayed the teacher would return soon. I kept telling myself
that there was no way he'd actually hit her, but the deep
resentment in his eyes told me otherwise as he drew closer.

Joanna would not back down, keeping her bold
disposition she held his angered gaze with her own fearless glare.
She kept her shoulders squared, no sign of relenting. The two were
locked in a cold war for several tense moments. JJ was the first to
crack, much to my relief.

“Ah, Jo Jo, you'll come around,” he said
assuredly, his cocky smile returning full force, his hand lowering.
He winked confidently at Joanna's cool composure before taking a
seat in the front of the room just seconds before the teacher
reemerged.

I let out a quiet sigh, thankful JJ didn't
cause more of a scene than he already had. That look in his eye
chilled me to the bone. Such vicious contempt. I wondered in that
moment exactly what JJ was capable of. In spite of our
knock-down-drag-out history together was I underestimating the
extent of his violence?

I peered over to Joanna, who sat shaking in
the corner, softly hugging herself secretly under the concealment
of her desk, and realized I was not the only one contemplating JJ's
true nature.

I feel so shamefully guilty.

Not so much guilt because of what I did that
fateful day, but because of what I couldn't do the days before it.
I couldn't protect the ones I loved from JJ and his father.
Perhaps, had I known the women I loved would succumb to their
arrogant greedy nature, I might have finished the job years sooner
and taken big Jack along for the ride. Had I only known what they
were capable of.

Warm tears well in the corners of my eyes yet
again at the thoughts of my lost love. Such horrible sadness and
pain she must have endured that night, completely vulnerable and
alone. I truly had lost her that night, no matter how much my heart
lies to me. Her soul perished in my arms the night he raped her. I
hope the demons in which he now dwells with are not forgiving
creatures. I long to know how his putrid rotten soul is being
tortured in the depths of his vast venomous hell.

I still have a hard time accepting the
reality of his cruelty to Joanna. It was all my fault, of course,
and not just because I was unable to prevent his brutality. Had JJ
never found out about us, he might have just left her alone. That
bastard just couldn't live with the possibility that maybe, just
maybe, I might be a better man than him. I just had to open my big
mouth to the only person who could ever actually hurt us. He just
had to take her from me. He just had to take away everything I had.
Everything. And for what? Just to spite me, and prove he will
always have the upper hand, the superior seed.

I'll never forget the smug expression on his
thick face when I strolled quietly into the cafeteria that day. It
was so boldly confident. So convinced that he had won the battle
for good, the blatant fingernail abrasions radiating down his neck
mixed with the purple bruise on his cheek worn proudly as
triumphant spoils of war. I wanted to rip the filthy flesh right
off his disgusting self-satisfied grin. It sure does make me smile
to relive that smugness be torn off his cocky face.

Oh yes, Jacky boy, that moment gives me great
pleasure. I hope your demons are doing to you exactly what you did
to her.

My heart broke at the sight of the weary
exhausted woman who sat before me at the kitchen table. Her soul
was slowly giving up hope that love would ever enter her life.
She's kissed a good deal of frogs and no prince has surfaced yet.
At least, none that she wanted anyway.

Why, Mom? Why are you so set on all or
nothing? Is he really worth it?

From what little information I'd gathered he
sure wasn't.

Why couldn't she be happy with Joe Somebody?
Joe Anybody! Sixteen years of living with a broken heart can take a
lot out of a person, no matter how strong they are. I guess it's a
good thing she's tough. At least she hides the pain well from
everyone. Everyone but me. There is little that my mother actually
can hide from me these days, despite her best efforts.

Which reminds me.

“Some Sarah called the other day. Who's
Sarah?”

Do you forgive me, Mother? How about you,
John? Jo? I wonder if anyone does. I seem to be having an unusually
hard time forgiving myself these days. Why is that?

I have so few happy memories left to keep me
going. Perhaps it is just the constant parade of somber moments
that have put me in such a melancholic state. Self loathing truly
has become my forte.

I wonder what is happening to that once
assured confident person who felt justified by an eye for an eye
act of seeming morality. When once, I was so convinced that I was
right, now has me constantly brooding over my vindication. Instead
of a mixture of guilt and justification, I only feel shame and
regret.