Bury Your Demons

May 31, 2011
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MAY 26. The last day of school had finally arrived for the high school of Trenton county. In less than an hour summer break would begin and school work would become history. Nothing could bring down Zander Jacoby’s day. He had passed all his finals and was leaving his junior year with straight A’s. Not only was he smart in school but was very athletic participating in lacrosse and soccer. A boy who was recognizable by everyone at school because of his athlete toned body and thick hair. He was destined for greatness and only had one more year of high school before he could achieve it.

TICK TOCK TICK TOCK went the final seconds on the slow analog clock that Zander stared at waiting for the big hand to line up with the three. “School is over and so are all my troubles,” he yelled as the final bell of his junior year rang as loud as a gun shot. Zander rushed to his car and drove home.

When he arrived at his home there was a car that he had never seen. Then a figure appeared at the kitchen window and drew the blinds shut. Suddenly, there was a gun shot and a loud scream. Following that, two more gun shots were fired. This would have phased any person but Zander was listening to his music in his car and didn’t hear a thing. The thing he did notice was his brother running out of the house. Zander just sat in his car and waved to his brother, but as he waved his brother fell to the ground. A bullet had gone through his head. Zander sat frozen in his seat, as a bald man covered in tattoos stepped outside. The man rose his gun and shot at Zander’s head.

Fortunately, for Zander his neighbors had heard the gun shots and dialed 911. The paramedics arrived and were able to transport him to the hospital. He had suffered a gun shot to the side of the head but he wasn’t dead. He was in a coma.

3 YEARS LATER. Zander woke up and asked the nurse,” Where is he?”
“Who are you talking about? There is no one here but you and me.” the nurse replied.
“Where am I?” Zander began looking around the room noticing the wheelchair to his left and the IV in his arm.
“Your in a hospital dear, you have been in a coma for three years.”
“Where is my family?”
“How about you just rest for now.”
“Three years of sleep, Ill be fine. Where is my family.” The crackle of Zander’s hospital gown filled the room as he sat up in the bed.
“They were all killed three years ago on the same day you were shot”
After a long pause Zander asked the nurse, “So is there anyone here for me?’
“Well some of your lacrosse teammates dropped by every other weekend, but stopped after a year. Would you like to call a relative or a girlfriend?”
“My grandparents passed away when I was ten and I didn’t do to well with the girls at my school.”
“Oh well I am sorry to hear that.”
“Did the person that shoot my family and me get caught?”
“Yes, but he wasn’t convicted guilty because there wasn’t enough evidence against him.”
With those words Zander pulled out the IV in his arm and tired to stand up but fell to the ground.
“Wait a minute, you need to stay here for a while,” the nurse said as she helped Zander to a wheelchair next to the bed.
“No, I need to go do something, something that should have happened three years ago.”
Zander then rolled by the nurse, knocking her over and he rolled out of the hospital.

JUNE 15. In just a few weeks Zander had been able to recover all the motions he hadn’t used in three years because the hatred and the want to avenge his family drove him. He had found his car abandoned outside the school and returned to where his family was murdered. The family sitting in his old living room all turned shocked to see an intruder, but Zander ignored them and went upstairs to his old room. In his room, he had hidden things in the tiles of his celling and among this things was two hundred dollars and a knife. He grabbed those two things and walked back out to his car. Now he had ammo to his hatred and began his plan to avenge the family that was taken away from him

AUGUST 27. The thing about hatred is that if one is filled with he or she won’t stop moving until the desired thing is found. Zander tracked down the the tattooed man like a lion tracks an elephant. By finding the place where it feels the safest, then sitting and waiting for the opportune moment to attack. For his prey would walk down the ally.

A kid who made straight A’s had transformed into a monster. He could have been behind a desk listening to a teacher talk about pre-calculus but now he was sitting next to a dumpster and listening to police sirens and the shivering of the homeless man next to him. A boy who had to to become a man within a day, but instead of becoming a man this monster was created. His shaved head, skeleton frame, and sunken eyes showed how his hatred had changed him. This creature sat there with a 5 inch knife hidden in his right sleeve of a torn and burnt jacket.

AUGUST 30. Three days passed while the Monster sat at the dumpster. He didn’t eat or sleep just sat there waiting for his moment to get his revenge. This alley sat behind a run down house where cocaine was used as currency. A place the tattooed man visited reguarly. The sun was still hidden in the early cold morning, but he still could see as clear as day. Then he saw the tattooed man walking down the alley. A smile came on the creature’s face and the knife slid from under his sleeve. In the other hand he grabbed a cup from the dumpster and approached the tattooed man.
“Spare some change sir.” Monster said dryly.
“Change? I don’t owe you anything you worthless excuse for a person.” The tattooed man then slapped the cup out of Zander’s hand and kept on walking.
“Oh but I believe otherwise, you do owe me something.” Zander said angrily.
“What could I possibly owe a piece of scum like you?”
“You owe me three years and a family.”
The tattooed man stopped shockingly, and slowly turned around. His face was as white as sheet as he stared into Zander’s eyes.
“Thats not possible, I shot you in the head.” He said as he came closer to observe Zander.
“Well maybe next time you should bury your demons.”

Then Zander tightened his grip around the knife and stuck the blade in the man’s heart. DRIP DROP the tattooed man’s blood poured out of the knife wound and began to splatter against the concrete, as he struggled to stand up. Zander stepped back from him in order to kick the blade further into his chest. THUMP the tattooed man’s head smacked against the brick wall and slowly slid to the concrete ground.
“I’m gonna do what you should of done three years ago.” Zander said smoothly
“Wh-what is t-t-th-that?” The tattooed man inquired while spitting out blood in between each word.
“Im going to bury my demons.” Zander replied calmly.

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