Jordan | Teen Ink

Jordan

June 3, 2013
By Amy Zhang BRONZE, Samammish, Washington
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Amy Zhang BRONZE, Samammish, Washington
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Author's note: I was inspired to write this piece because of all the gay rights movements that are happening all around the US. I want to show the realistic bullying and the hardship in a normal teen's life.

I lost my birth mother to leukemia a few years after I was born. I was only three years old at the time, and all I could remember really was the smell of sadness and the faint waft of the dozens of white roses placed by the tombstone of my mother’s grave. My father told me I cried. I remember the teardrops on my rosy pink cheeks, but I didn’t remember knowing anything about her at all, so I didn’t really have a reason to be in grief.
I don’t know what it was, but I was never really the emotional type. I was never sad about little things like my dog getting run over by a car, or my father’s brief period of time in jail due to drinking and driving. Maybe it was because since I never really had a mother, my father had taught me to be strong and tough like him I learned how to fend for myself, and didn’t care much about little things in life like that.
But something changed that year on March 13th. I should have known something bad was going to happen that day, since it was Friday the thirteenth. My dad was in love with this woman he had been dating for about half a year and had made the impulsive decision to get married.
Kelley Sinclair wasn’t a bad person, but something about her irked me.
She was a predominantly astute woman, yet very venerable. Sometimes I think she acts differently around me rather than other children just to get close to my dad, just like those stereotypical hot moms who act sweet to the children so they can win them over. It was almost that, except Kelley wasn’t particularly good-looking. She was two years older than my dad and had wide rimmed glasses and a blonde bowl cut. If you could imagine Sia with shorter hair, you would be right on.
The day they got married was one of the worst days of my life. At age 10, seeing Kelley in a wedding dress and my very own dad in a tux was horrifying to me. They were like living versions of my Barbie and Ken dolls, except not so perfect or plastic. And no, I was not shallow and I did want my father to be happy. There was also a second reason I hated that very day. When I saw my father and Kelley standing up there, man and woman, hand in hand, in front of the friar that was marrying the two – that was the moment I realized I’d never stand up there like they would. That realization was also the start of the cognizance that led to the hell I call my life.


The warm spring breeze blew Sondra Romano’s ash blond hair back, fluttering in the wind. It was truly beautiful. Sometimes I wish my hair could do that. But that would never happen with my short, dark hair.
“Like, oh my gosh Jordan! Pick a card already!” she said and giggled.
You would think a girl like me would be a total outcast, but somehow I ended up being friends with some of the most popular girls in school. I was put in the wrong school at the wrong place at the wrong time, I always think to myself, because my whole life was messed up.
I used to live in a small town in Tennessee near Lexington, but after a dramatic suggestion from Dad’s “genius” wife Kelley, we ended up here in San Diego County, California. The sun was blazing hot 24/7 and everyone was completely beach-blond-bikini all the time.
Sondra and her group of friends quickly accepted me into their crowd, which didn’t make much sense to me, but I liked hanging out with them. It made me feel alive, as cliche as that sounded.
Our favorite hangout is Del Mar Beach, where there is a high ledge of grass above the beach that we sit on during our one hour free lunch period. Unlike the clichés of California (sun tanning and swimming), we usually just talked and played card games on a little pink picnic blanket.
I drew a card from the little deck of red cards and looked at Sondra. She was the prettiest girl I knew, and she had an amazing personality too. I told Sondra everything about my life, the ups and downs, and she knew almost everything. If only she knew. Then I would have revealed my whole life to her.
Holly van Buuren pulled out a pack of cigarettes from her star-studded pocket of her pink mini-shorts. “Anyone up for a smoke?”
“I’ll have one, thank you,” I said, reaching over to grab one before they disappeared from the box one by one. I really needed to get rid of the stress getting built up. I couldn’t keep it a secret forever.
I still remember the very first day I told someone about my big secret. No big surprise, it was my father. He was the only one I knew wouldn’t judge me and still treat me and love me as he did before I told him.
“Hey Dad. I think I'm a lesbian,” I had said casually one day at the breakfast table. I didn’t want it to be a big deal.
“That’s nice, honey,” my dad said in a calm manner while getting a mug for his morning coffee out of the cupboard.
Most people might find this answer offensive, but I found it perfect. I didn’t want him to have a long talk with me about it, because I knew everything that might happen. I didn’t want to have to get emotional.
Things were silent for a little bit, and the only sounds heard were the rattling of the milk carton and the clinking of the plates on the table.
“Have I ever shown you where we keep the ‘ole gun?” Dad said suddenly, startling me a bit.
“What? No. Why?”
“Well, if you ever need it, it’s in the second drawer in the kitchen,” he said quite casually. He leaned in closer. “ It’s just for an emergency. You know, people aren’t always so nice.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Okay Jordan, I’m leaving for work now. Defend yourself, okay?” He brought the dishes to the sink. “Have a nice day at school.”


I inhaled the smoke deeply into my lungs and blew the faint gray wisps into the sun. I could feel Sondra’s disapproving glance on me. She was the only one of us that didn’t ever smoke, because she believed in all that lung cancer crap that the teachers feed us.
“Hey Jordan, truth or dare,” Sondra asked, twirling her hair around her manicured pinky finger.
“Dare,” I replied without reluctance.
She giggled. “I dare you to go up to that gay dude in our first period chemistry and beat the crap out of him,” she said, turning her perfect blue eyes on me.
There was a sudden pang in my chest like she had kicked me in the stomach. I knew who she was talking about, and I felt some sympathy for that guy. I mean, he used to be in the same situation I am in now, except he decided to come out of the closet, when I was still hiding. He was brave to do that, because every time I saw him, he was either getting hit by the football players, or accepting insults from the popular girls.
“Why would you tell me to do that?”
“Because,” she laughed. “first of all, he’s gay, second of all, Alisha Williams told me that he liked Jason Hemmingway. My Jason Hemmingway. And that is clearly not acceptable.”
“Jason is all yours, and you both know that,” I said, trying to steer away from the dare. Sondra was never going to love me and I had accepted that, and she should have to accept that other people, girl or guy, might like her boyfriend. “And isn’t beating him up a bit much?”
“Whatever. The point is, go do it. And that’s that,” Sondra said firmly and stood up. “Come on girls, let’s go back.”


After fifth period, I saw him. I never actually learned his name, because I only knew the people that Sondra talked to, and I would observe in the background as they talked. And from what I know, Sondra had never talked to him before.
He was in front of Locker 1050, which was pretty close to mine actually, but I’ve never seen him there before.
He was a tall, stocky kid with shaggy brown hair. He was mysterious, moving in swift movements as a snake through tall grass. Something about him was intriguing and the silver cross necklace at his neck drew my eyes away from his face. I slowly approached him, not wanting to disturb the silence at hand.
“Hi,” I said simply, leaning awkwardly on the faint blue lockers.
He looked at me with his pale blue eyes that I hadn’t noticed before, then went back to organizing his locker.
“What’s your name?” I tried again, knowing how weird I sounded.
“Jordan,” he said calmly, “we’ve been in the same classes for nine straight years now; I’d like to think you had learned my name.”
“Well, considering I don’t pay attention in class, and I’ve never actually spoken to you, it’s no surprise that I haven’t learned your name,” I said, taking the witty approach.
His lips curved up into a half smile, then secured his last book into place in his completely organized locker. “Okay,” he said, closing his locker and stretching out his hand. “I’m Zeliq Herrmann-Goldschmidt, but my friends call me Zed, you know, like the last letter of the German alphabet.”
“You have friends…? “ I blurted out before I could stop myself.
He laughed, to my surprise, and took my hand. “Here, I can introduce you to some of them now if you want. You don’t mind missing your sixth period class, do you?”
“No, not really,” I said and was dragged in front of what looked like a little closet or something. I had always thought it was the janitor’s closet, because I couldn’t really see what the sign said without my glasses. He opened the door for me and I was overtaken with bright lights and endless layers of dark red curtains.
“What is this place?” I said, looking around.
“It’s backstage, silly,” he said. When the view came into focus, I noticed there were about five people in the room, all wearing black and a necklace with a cross on it.
“I’m in the stage crew for the drama club and their productions. We call it the CC,” he explained. “We’re da Christian Crew, yo,” he said, trying to look cool.
I laughed. “Don’t do that again; just...no.”
“Oh you think that was weird? You’ve seen nothing yet.” He waved over the five people that were tugging on seemingly random ropes and organizing what I could only assume was stage makeup and costumes.
I could see the five better now that they were closer. In front of me stood four guys and one girl, who were all wearing all black tees, loose black pants, and worn out sneakers. The first guy was a large-set redhead covered in freckles from his nose to the tips of his fingers. Standing next to him was a skinny Asian with Harry Potter glasses. The most eye-catching of them was an Indian with hipster glasses and a chicken hat. The last boy was the best looking of them all, with blond hair, blue eyes, and a square chin. The girl was the shortest, with stubby legs and bland brown hair like mine pulled up into a ponytail.
“This is Randy, and you can always remember him by the hair and the freckles. Parry is the Asian dude over here. Don’t judge Adarsh’s chicken hat; it’s just the way he is. Smithie, well, what more can I say, he’s a catch! And our only girl, Greta, who is the rudest of us all. I suggest you don’t mess with her,” Zed said, pointing at them respectfully as he explained.
“My name isn’t actually Smithie, it’s Calvin Smith, but my friends call me Smithie. I’m not even sure how it all started,” he said, shaking his head.
Greta rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “Don’t listen to these losers, I’m not rude. I just get tired of them messing around sometimes and want to get some work done.”
Looking at them at the moment, I had a feeling that I would like them. For the first time in my life it felt like I belonged somewhere. I blew off the entire sixth period to stay in the drama room with them, and they taught me how to work the backstage equipment. Parry knew just about everything, Adarsh was probably the most hilarious kid I’ve ever met, Greta’s passive aggressive humor polarized with Smithie’s light, optimistic outlook, and Randy was just so oblivious it was funny. And Zed, well, was just quiet and smiling, observing on the sidelines most of the time. He must learn so much everyday by just observing people, I thought.
It was a nice way to spend my afternoon.


Zed and I walked home together that day, and I learned a lot about him. I learned that he grew up with five sisters, (“No wonder I turned out gay, right?” he joked.) used to get bullied a lot when he was younger, and used to be best friends with Sondra.
“Whoa, hold up, you used to be friends with Sondra?” I asked.
“Yeah. We used to be best friends actually, in elementary school and also the beginning of middle school. I think everything got awkward after she started liking me in seventh grade and then I told her I was gay. Then she went and told the whole school and stopped talking to me ever since. She’s been spreading rumors about me, and getting people to beat me up.”
Everything made a lot more sense now. “So I’m assuming you don’t like Jason Hemmingway?”
“Hell no,” he responded, almost laughing. “He’s a stupid jock like the rest. That’s why the CC is so special to me, because they accept me for me and don’t judge like the rest of the school.”
“So is there anyone you do like?”
He shrugged. “You know, I had that brief crush on Smithie like everyone does, but that’s been over a long time ago. I haven’t really found anyone yet. What about you?”
I thought about it for a while. I had only known Zed for a day, and yet I felt like I’d known him my whole life. But was it enough to tell him about my big secret?
He studied my facial expression and smiled. “It’s okay, I don’t judge. It’s Sondra, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, how did you know?”
“Something about your eyes,” he simply said mysteriously. “Why is it so hard to admit?”
“I don’t know, I just haven’t really told anyone this. It’s kind of like my big secret, you know?”
“It’s not really a bad thing to open up. I mean, the people will judge, but from there you can figure out who your real friends are. It’s really an experience you need to go through. I mean, make your own decisions but… you don’t really know if the ones you think are so close to you will leave you when times are hard. It’s better to find out sooner than later when it’s too late.”
I was silent for a moment, because I couldn’t really figure out a good answer. But he was right, I suppose.
“What’s something you haven’t told anyone?” I asked him while we were crossing the little wooden crossing bridge on top of the river near my house. We paused there and looked over at the glistening water, reflecting off the rays of the sun.
“Hmm… well, I’ve always thought about running away.”
“Well, why haven’t you?” I looked at him, not even questioning his intentions of running away. After all, it was a thought that all outcast teens thought.
“I guess I just haven’t found the right person to run away with, that’s all,” he said and turned his gaze toward me. “So if you ever need a running-away-buddy, I’m here for you,” he said and nudged me in the side.
I laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind.”


“Darling baby-cakes!” the strident, shrill voice of my dear, dear stepmother made my ears ring yet again as I entered the door of our one-story home. Kelley was sitting at the tall counter in our “hipster” kitchen like usual, reading the morning paper. The “hipster” kitchen was decorated by none other than Kelley Sinclair herself, due to her sudden whimsical urge to redecorate. It was full of old photographs and odd shaped tiles on the walls. The counters were made of some kind of fancy rock. It must have cost Dad a fortune. And on top of it, Kelley was a not-so-famous motivational speaker/writer, and didn’t always have places to speak at, so she was a stay-home-mom most of the time.
I dropped my heavy black backpack on the ground next to the couch. “Hi Kelley,” I said. God, she was so aggravating at times.
“Nice to see you’re finally hanging out with a boy!” she said, throwing the paper in the recycling bin and focusing her attention on me. “What’s his name? Tell me!”
“His name is Zed,” I said, flopping down on the couch.
“Oh my! Are you two dating?”
“No, for God’s sake, I don’t like him.” I braced myself for lots of questions.
Luckily for me, my phone rang just then, and I went to my room to answer. “Hi Sondra,” I said.
“Hey baby girl! What’s up?”
“Oh nothing much actually, I just got home.”
“Where were you before? It’s like, four o’clock. Your bus should have gotten back by then, right?”
I didn’t want to tell her about meeting Zed and the Christian Crew. She wouldn’t accept it well. But then I thought, why should I be scared? After all, it was just as Zed said, and Sondra was my best friend, she deserved to know.
“I was hanging out with Zed and his friends,” I said bluntly, stretching myself out across my bed and looking at my poster on the ceiling of Paramore, my favorite band.
“Zed? You mean that gay dude that always lurks around everywhere suspiciously? Oh yeah, how much did you mess that guy’s face up?”
“Sondra, I didn’t beat him up.”
“What?” I could hear the disappointment and exasperation in her voice.
“I know it was rough between you guys in middle school, but it’s no reason to hate on him.”
“But he’s freaking gay,” Sondra exclaimed. “Do you know how embarrassing it is to have a crush on a gay guy?”
That was it. I had it with her nonsense. I was going to tell her my big secret once and for all, and she would have to accept me the way I was, or not accept me at all. She needed to stop judging homosexuals and know that they are still the same person as they were before. “Sondra, you should stop judging gays. They’re people, just like us, and they have feelings too. Think about it. Your best friend could be gay and you wouldn’t know.”
The other end was quiet. “Jordan, what are you saying,” she said in a tentative voice.
“I’m a lesbian,” I said.
She was silent for a moment. I thought she was finally thinking about it and coming to her senses. But then…
“Oh my gosh Jordan! You’re a lesbian! We went swimming together so many times, and we changed in front of each other millions of times. I don’t understand why you couldn’t tell me this earlier!”
“I’m sorry. So do you accept it?” I said, feeling like I was in a movie. And this would be the moment where the best friends smiled and talked it out like everything was just normal.
But my life wasn’t a movie, because all I heard was a click and the call ended.


Remember when I said my life was a living hell? Yeah, this is where it starts.
I woke up that morning to find my phone full of new texts. Apparently Sondra had gotten the word out to about everyone in the school. My phone was spammed with a lot of hurtful texts that I didn’t even want to mention.
I didn’t think too much about it though. Losing a friend like Sondra was normal, and like I said before, I wasn’t emotional. I went to school like usual, hung out with Zed and the CC, and went home each day without minding too much. But things started to worsen, and I could feel it happening.
One day after lunch, Zed and I were walking towards the drama room.
“Sometimes I think the role of Carla should be recast, you know? Heidi Pager just isn’t convincing enough. She treats the role like Carla should be sort of sassy, but Carla is supposed to be a nice farm girl living in a small town in Texas,” I explained briefly.
“Wow, you’ve really got this analyzing thing down. Maybe you should become a casting director when you grow up,” Zed said.
“Hey homos!” the deep voice of Ben Travis, the quarterback of the football team, rang down the hall.
Zed froze for a second, his blue eyes wide with fear. “Run!” he whispered tersely.
We ran down the hall. Thank God, I was gifted with long legs, so I ran fairly quickly. But Zed wasn’t so lucky. Ben caught up to him at the front door, dragging his limbs across the floor like he was a domestic animal about to be slaughtered.
“Save yourself!” he called, adding a touch of humor to this completely serious event and smiled helplessly.
I stopped in my tracks and looked back at him. I couldn’t just leave him there. A sudden rush of rage flushed my face and I ran back and punched Ben square in the jaw as hard as I could. He responded with a hard hit in the face on my nose. My eyes instantly started watering, and my nose stung like crazy. But Ben got the message and left us alone.
I got up from the tiled floor and rubbed my nose. “Zed, are you okay?”
He was on the ground, and it looked serious, because blood was flowing from a huge cut on his lip and his eye was swelled up with bruises all over his face.
“Dude, don’t joke with me here. If you’re okay, please just get up.” I kneeled next to him and shook his shoulders violently. Then I realized that might hurt him, and stopped. “Zed!” I said firmly.
When I realized he wouldn’t get up, I ran him to the nurse’s office.


I called Zed when I got home. Five times, actually. But each time, nobody would pick up. Finally, his mother picked up, and then told me he wasn’t well enough to get on the phone.
I knew I had to talk to him, and decided to live a little. The window to my bedroom was open, and I slowly and carefully placed each foot on the shingles of the roof.
“Darling baby-cakes!” Kelley’s singsong voice rang through the halls. I could feel her nearing my room. My heart was beating fast and I knew I had to stop her from coming in. “Kelley! Is something on the stove? I think your food is burning!” I yelled as loud as I could.
“Oh! Not my Nashville wraps!” I heard her voice fading away as she ran downstairs in a hurry.
I smiled in spite of myself and closed the window behind me. The spring breeze was warm, so I didn’t need a jacket. The roof was about as high as my driveway was long, and I figured from what I learned in physics that I probably wouldn’t die.
“Well here goes nothing,” I said and leaped onto the ground. It only made my feet sting a bit, but I quickly got up and started running down the street. God, it felt good to run freely.
There was a shortcut from the end of 6th street to Zed’s house, which was the bridge and the little river we crossed the day we met. Too bad I couldn’t stop to admire it; the landscape was so pretty.
After I crossed the bridge, I knew something was wrong. I could see roughly fifteen to twenty people outside his house, yelling and making a lot of noise. I decided to sneak in from the back balcony so I could avoid all the ruckus in the front.
There was a tree in his backyard that I was fond of climbing when I went over to his house. It led all the way to his bedroom where we hung out most of the time. I opened his balcony door and snuck in.
The room was fairly dark, but I could still make out the outline of Zed’s head.
“Jordan! What brings you here?” he said in an agitated voice. I noticed that his face was scratched up quite a bit, and there were bumps and bruises everywhere.
“Whoa there dude, no need to take that attitude with me,” I joked. “I’m just here ‘cause your mom wouldn’t let me talk to you on the phone.”
“Sorry, I’m just...” he trailed off and looked out the window. “It’s not like you didn’t see the kids trashing me and the house.”
“Yeah I did see them,” I said sympathetically. “I’m so sorry. That must be terrible.” I went over to the window that was facing the front street. and opened the blinds just enough so I could peek through.
I realized that I knew most of these people, and they used to be my friends. I spotted a very familiar face that was throwing eggs at the window. It was Sondra, in her favorite summer tank and pink shorts. The worst part was that she wasn’t holding back at all. The swift movement of her arm revealed many years of softball practice (Sondra and I used to take softball together) and soon enough, orange yolk of the egg hit the window with a splat. I jerked my head back a bit from the impact, even though the egg didn’t actually hit me. In the process of doing this, I accidentally pulled the strings of the blinds and a wave of light hit me and almost blinded me.
“Hey!” somebody outside shouted. “It’s the lesbo!”
Their attention was now directed towards me. They shouted all kinds of crude unmentionable insults about Zed and me, and finally I couldn’t take it anymore. I didn’t care if they liked me or not. It was that they were offending homosexuals in general that made me despise them the most.
“On average, how many times a week do they do this to you?” I turned around and asked Zed.
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe four or five. But there are different groups that come in, so at least there’s some variety to their stupidity and immaturity,” he said with a half-smile.
“I don’t understand how you live with this. How come they don’t do this to me?”
“I guess... they don’t know where you live yet,” he said with a self-pitying laugh. “Don’t let them find out. It’ll ruin your life forever.”
“Why don’t you call the police? I’m sure this is illegal or something!”
“That... that would just get me in deeper with the school. It’s complicated...”
“Come on,” I said, pulling him up. “I won’t let you live with this. You should come spend a few days at my house and sit it out.”
He sighed. “I... I honestly don’t know how much longer to take it. Going to your house won’t be any help because they’re just going to find where you live and then take you down with the pack. It’s kind of like a wolf hunt, you know? And we’re the prey.”
“We’ll see. Just come with me.” He followed me to his balcony and down the tree. My feet hit the yellowing grass with a thump, and I waited under it for him to come down.
“Wow, you really are an adept climber,” he said as he jumped off the final branch, clearly winded.
“Well duh,” I laughed and peeked around the side of his house. The “wolf pack” was still throwing things at Zed’s window. “Good, they didn’t notice we left,” I whispered. “The only weak link we have right now is if they notice we left and are smart enough to realize we’ve gone to my place, because Sondra knows where I live. So on the count of three, we run,” I said, pointing to the path I took into the forest to get here.
“This feels like some kind of escape movie,” he said, and I could tell he was excited.
“But if we move now, they’re going to see us. The path is all the way on the other side of the driveway.”
Suddenly, someone tapped me on the shoulder. “Hey guys, what are we talking about?”
My natural instinct was to jolt backwards and punch the person in the face. I guess I should have thought that one through, because the boy wearing the chicken hat fell down and landed in a pile of mud.
“Dude! That was not cool! It’s just Adarsh, man!” He picked himself up off the ground and did a quick examination of his chicken hat. “Aw man, why you gotta ruin my favorite hat?”
I laughed. “Adarsh, I’ll buy you another one. Calm down.”
“Yeah, the rest of us are here too,” a sassy female voice came from behind Adarsh.
“Greta! Guys! What are you doing here?” Zed exclaimed happily.
“You weren’t answering your phone, so we decided to come here to see if you were okay, you idiot,” Greta said calmly. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Zed laughed. “Jordan and I were just headed over to her house because of the guys up front there.”
“You need a distraction? We can do that!” Parry said a bit too excitedly. Sometimes I’m worried the kid has so little social interaction that anything could make him excited.
“Yeah I’m sure we could,” Smithie said with a laugh. “We’ll go and figure something out. You guys just wait until the coast is clear.”
“But you guys would get beat up out there!” I whispered, peeking over the edge of the house.
“Nah, we know how to take care of ourselves.” Greta said. “Smithie plays football; Parry takes Taekwondo; and Adarsh takes Judo. Randy is literally like a brick, and it’s not a compliment. And they would never beat up a straight girl like me. No offense,” she said, glancing at me.
“None taken,” I laughed. I was used to Greta’s passive aggressive and snark comments.
“Yoohoo! Idiots coming through!” Adarsh said and walked into plain sight, and the rest followed him.
“Okay, let’s make our move now, before they notice that we’re gone,” I said and eyed a path that was closest from here to the woods. “Just run as fast as you can, okay? If they notice us, don’t look back.”
“You realize how dangerous this is right? I have to stay in the house because if I left the house they would beat me up and I’d probably end up in the hospital,” Zed said nervously. He wiped his palms on his black shirt. “You should probably just go alone. I’m just gonna lag behind and then give away where you live.”
“Well we have to take the risk. I can’t let you sit out your life here and sneak around school, avoiding everybody. At my house, we can come up with a plan to take down all these bullies. I mean, it’s not worth living your life in fear like this,” I said and turned back around. “On the count of three, go. 1, 2, ...3!”
I loved running, and I was good at it too. The feeling of the wind running through my short, dark hair is amazing. I don’t think when I run, so before I knew it, I was in front of my house. “Zed?” I called back in the direction of the forest.
I waited about a minute before I saw a figure dressed in all black coming through the last of the shrubs. Zed was panting like crazy, and I knew he was winded pretty badly. “They’re onto us!” he croaked with a half grin. But his eyes were not smiling.
“Hurry and come in before they catch us,” I said, not questioning how or why they started coming this way. “Let me get you some water,” I said, seating him on the couch next to the TV. Unfortunately, the living room was right next to the kitchen.
“Oh, you brought him home!” Kelley said, smiling widely and adjusting her short, blonde hair.
“Kelley, there’s no time for this. If anybody knocks on the door, please don’t let them in. It’s important. Please.”
“I see them coming, let’s go upstairs,” I said quickly, handing him his water.
“Okay kids! Have fun!” Kelley yelled from downstairs.
She clearly did not understand the seriousness of this situation. But at least it made Zed laugh, which made me smile too.
“So what, we’re going to hide out in your room until this is all over?” he said solemnly. “Because I’ll have you know now that this isn’t gonna be over,” he said, a stray tear rolling onto his cheek. I could tell he was trying not to cry in front of me. He blinked a couple of times. “They’ve been doing this for a while now. It’s never going to end, is it.”
“Don’t worry, we'll figure something out,” I said, and gave him a hug. A warm tear rolled off his cheek onto my shoulder.


The final shadows cast over the trees and night fell quickly. My room suddenly turned dark as the last bit of sunlight leaked out of the room. Zed and I had just been sitting there for hours, not being able to breathe or even talk. Our hearts pounded, and the beat rang in my ear like a bass drum.
Seeing Zed there directly across from me, curled up in a ball in the corner, made me realize the reality of life. It wasn’t all fun and games, and it wasn’t all about joking around either. The funny Zed who could always make me laugh was gone in that split second, and replaced with silence.
“They’re probably gone by now,” I said, hugging my knees closer to my chest. My own voice sounded weird, like a single bullet shot in a lone field.
“Maybe,” he said, his voice cracking from such a long time without talking.
“Do you want to go check?” I’d figured Kelley was gone for her 8 pm yoga by now. The house was completely empty.
“Not particularly,” he said quietly.
I stood up slowly and got a pretty bad leg cramp in my left leg, but I ignored it and looked outside.
It was kind of hard to see anything through the tops of the trees. My window faced the back of the house, where there was the trail leading from Zed’s house to mine. “Coast is clear,” I told him. “Now we just have to check the front door and -”
There was a heavy pounding on our door. “Open up! We’re going to teach you two a lesson!” a deep male voice called.
Zed suddenly jerked up. “That’s Wyatt and Ben,” he said, eyes wide with fear. “They’re the football players.”
“I don’t know who Wyatt is.”
“If you could imagine Ben, except with times three strength and times three size, then you have Wyatt,” he said, standing up.
“Oh God,” I said.
“Don’t use God’s name in vain,” he said quietly. He put his hands together and mumbled something under his breath. “Amen.”
“What did you ask God for?” I asked, curious.
“It doesn’t matter. We have to leave now, or Ben and Wyatt will crush our skulls!”
“But where do we go?” I barely said before I heard the door swing open with a boom as it hit the counter. I could feel my head throbbing with my heartbeat, pounding through my whole body, and I felt faint. “Hold on, I’ve got an idea.”
I ran downstairs quickly before he could stop me.
“Jordan!” he screamed after me. “Are you crazy?”
The room was dark, but I could make out two large figures in front of the front door. Wyatt, the bigger one, was holding a bottle of beer or something. They were clearly drunk, and I could tell from the blank smiles and glazed eyes.
One of them knocked something over and the light went off with a blink. I could hear the scuffle of numerous drunk feet, and ducked behind the kitchen counter after hearing some glass shatter on the hardwood floor.
My hand found the silver knob on the second drawer and I opened it.
“Don’t move or I’ll shoot!” I said, my sweaty hands grasping the grip like my life depended on it. And it kind of did.
One figure moved a leg towards me and my finger hit the trigger. The next thing I knew, the gun was on the ground and so was the figure.
Everything became eerily quiet.
“You weren’t actually supposed to shoot,” Zed croaked from his spot halfway down the stairs.
“I... I was just going to scare them away. I didn’t mean to,” I explained, my lip quivering and I took in a deep breath.
Suddenly, the lights flickered back on and the room was lit up with a faint orange glow. I noticed right off the bat that there were not two, but three figures lying on the ground motionless.
The two football players, Wyatt and Ben were unconscious on the ground, clearly passed out from drinking too much. The third was a man dressed in a plaid shirt and black pants. The bullet of the gun pierced his lower abdomen. Then the realization hit me with an impact of a bomb.
“Dad? Dad! Please! Can you hear me?” I wailed. “Dad!” I screamed. He remained motionless still.
“Is everything okay?” Zed said, coming around to squat next to me. “Oh... no... not your dad...” he said, eyes wide.
I sat there in shock for about five minutes.
I had just shot my dad. Without him, I had nothing. He and I had so many memories, from the time when Mom died until now. We had always gone to Mom’s grave, once a year, and brought her one more white flower. I could picture little me, in a warm cotton hoodie and simple always-a-bit-too-short pants. My chubby hands grasped the end of my dad’s large finger as we walked there on shady autumn days. I used to think that the maple trees lining the side of the graveyard were decorating the graves, because every time I went there, my mother’s grave was always covered with a light layer of beautiful colored leaves. There were red ones, orange ones, brown ones...
Then I felt a small nudge from Zed, interrupting my line of thought. “What are we going to do?” he whispered, sounding scared to break the ice that was silence.

I shook my head slowly, letting the cold sweat from my hair drip onto the nape of my neck. “I... I don’t know anymore, Zed. Kelley’s going to come home to this mess of a house, and she is going to have full custody of me and...” I trailed off, thinking of the horror.

“The police are probably going to arrive soon,” he said quietly, kneeling next to me. “Somebody’s going to report all this ruckus.” I was silent. “You know, when I prayed to God, and I wished that we would be alive after all of this,” he said, chuckling to himself. “And God helped us. But we need a plan, don’t we,” he said gently.

“Zed?” I said, a tear running down my cheek and landing on my dad’s lined face. I pulled my dad’s cheek up into a smile and then let it go.

“Yes?”

“Let’s run away.”



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