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    Empathy
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Bad Seed - 2. Chapter 2

Night seemed to take the place of day before its time. And it found Kyle in that same alley behind the corner store. A light rain had begun just about an hour ago and Kyle was now laying face down in a slowly forming puddle. His face was covered in bruises as was the rest of his body as he’d find out later. Kyle was only starting to come around slowly being pulled back into consciousness by the increasing presence of water around his nose and mouth. From time to time a small sputter could be heard as he took a sharp breath against the surface of the water.

“What time does the party start Kyle? Oh man, Shelia Walters is gonna be there, she is so hot!”

“Haha I don’t see why we have to go to this party anyways man, it’s gonna be lame, the same old people.”

“Whatever Wellmen, just cause you won’t be getting any tonight, don’t mean you can’t have fun, haha.”

“Screw you, like Shelia would even talk to you, she’s the most popular girl in school.”

“Your mom thought I was pretty hot last night!”

“Oh that’s it man…”

Martin and his friends had taken out all their aggressions and then some on Kyle right there in that alley. No one heard a thing, because Kyle never yelled out for help, not once. Even after he stopped fighting back, he refused to yell out. He’d rather they beat him to death right there in that alley than to prove everyone right and yell for help like some defenseless pussy. No, Martin wasn’t really that upset, how could he be? He’d gotten detention because of his own stupid actions, what was really, really getting to Martin was anybody’s guess. Kyle knew all to well, he was just like everybody else, ignorant, immature, and looking for anything and anyone they can gang up on and feel superior to.

“Ok, ok, you can get off me now, I won’t talk about your mom anymore...even if she did have an awesome rack! Alright I quit, I quit, now get off me fag before you start to like it too much.”

“Ha, the only thing that wants to be that close to you is your dog, after you lure him with the inappropriate use of peanut butter.”

“Fuck you, man look at the time, if you’re done copping a feel we need to get to the party.”

“Yeah, yeah, let’s get this over with, If it’s lame man I’m so out of there.”

“For someone who doesn’t want to go you sure sprayed on enough cologne.”

“Just cause the party is lame doesn’t mean I have to smell bad, I got the keys lets go.”

“It’s gonna be so cool, you’ll see, we’ll have a great time man.”

The rainfall had become much more persistent in the last half hour and every now and then the darkness of night was pierced by a flash of lightening. Kyle had begun to mumble in his sleep as he started to come to. And he took a bit of collected rain water into his mouth. Just as he made his first movements in hours and lifted his head, a stray dog came trotting over to him through the puddles and began to sniff at him. As he fully became aware of his surroundings, he shot up with a start as he realized half his face was submerged in water. Frightened by his sudden movement the dog took off deeper into the alley. He reached up to wipe the water from his face only to be met with a shooting pain in his right arm.

As an understanding of the situation began to thoroughly settle in his mind, he started to take notice of all the pain he was in. His right arm for starters, felt like someone had been stomping on it, there might possibly be a fracture. His back, legs and shoulders felt as though they’d taken a heavy beating and he knew they had. As he finally tried to stand and get up out of all that water he realized two things, the palms of his hand were badly cut, he’d not only been laying in water but broken glass as well. A few pieces were still embedded within the palms of his hands. Lastly he found out that his left ankle was in bad shape as he came crashing down onto his knees after trying to stand up. Kyle yelled out as he fell to his knees and with a heavy sigh he leaned back against the nearby wall and began to rub his ankle. A single tear mixed in with the falling rain as he watched his bloody hands ruin his socks.

“Dude chill out and have a beer or something, we’re not leaving yet, we’ve only been here half an hour besides it’s not all that lame, just chill.”

“Dude! There are freshmen here! Come...on. “

“Yeah, yeah, but what else you got planned for tonight huh, some hot date I don’t know about?”

“Whatever man”

“Exactly Kyle, you got nothing better to be doing elsewhere, and you’re at a party with your best friend on a Friday night what’s so lame about that?”

“Man...I’d have a better time just...hanging out with you”

“Haha. You’re such a sissy sometimes. Here, the beers are over here, have one, loosen up a bit, it’s a party.”

Kyle slowly and painfully made his way home. His ankle was no better and he looked even worse now that his socks and shoes were covered in blood. He could tell he looked like a train wreck just from the way his face felt. He couldn’t see it but he knew he was black and blue all over; luckily there was no added humiliation as no one was around to see him. The storm was getting worse as time went on and now a strong breeze had joined the heavy rainfall. The rain was wiping at Kyle and by now he was soaking wet, on top of being in so much pain. None of that mattered to him as he limped along. There were a few things rolling around in his mind, some that he couldn’t shake despite the effort and some that he was holding onto with a passion. The first, being the memory of how it came to all this. And lastly, was the thought that payback was going to be a bitch.

“What the hell do you mean it wasn’t what it looked like? OH MY GOD man, I saw you, everyone one did.”

“Martin, calm down ok, please just listen to me man.”

“Listen, listen, to what? You were making out with that guy, A GUY!...you fucking homo.”

“Martin just shut up man, it’s not like that at all ok”

“DO NOT FUCKING TOUCH ME! I’m out of here, you sick fuck. Don’t try to explain shit to me. God all the bitching you did before we got here and I find you tonguing with a fucking guy, I thought you’d found some cutie to hook up with and....”

“Please man, I was just drunk...”

“We’re all drunk you fucking faggot and none of the other guys have started playing butt games.”

“Martin...”

 

As he made his way up onto his front porch, he nearly collapsed from exhaustion. His legs were buzzing with numbness like never before and he’d run track for years. It’s funny how you never really know exactly how wet you are until you’re out of the rain. Standing there he was a bit hesitant, exhausted, beaten, and soaked to the bone and he still wasn’t sure if he wanted to go in. He knew his dad was in, his truck was in the driveway. Kyle probably needed to go to the hospital in all reality but he had no intention of asking his father to take him. No, if he could, he’d climb up into his window like he normally did and avoid the man all together. No chance of that tonight, not in his current state.

Just as Kyle was trying to fish his keys out of his pants, the front door slowly swung open. “And where in the hell have you been Huh?” Kyle didn’t even look up as he heard the raspy voice of his father. He already had a pretty good idea about how this would go as he spotted the beer can in his father’s large hand. “I asked a question...son”

“I was jumped after school dad, it wasn’t my fault, I couldn’t get home any sooner. I’m hurt pretty bad too and I’m tired can I just go up to my room?”

“You got in a fight after school but you don’t come home until after one in the morning? Must have been one hell of a brawl?” His father looked down at him as he leaned against the door frame, his words were slightly slurred but mostly he sounded as though he were half asleep. “Might make a man out of you, you sissy. I’m hurt pretty bad, ha. You think that hurt boy, huh?” As his father stood and stepped forward a bit out onto the porch, Kyle’s entire body tightened up but he stood his ground. He knew better than to run, knew better than to even flinch. “You keep me up this late after a long day of working again and I’ll show you what really hurts, you hear me? Do yah?”

“Yes sir”

“Get your ass in there and get yourself cleaned up, and then clean the kitchen. You left dishes everywhere this morning.”

“Yes sir”

“And I better not have to leave work or get some call about your little fight or it’s your ass.”

“See, I didn’t want to do that Kyle but I told you not to touch me again, get this straight right now, we are no longer friends, don’t touch me, don’t talk to me and matter of fact if you even look my way it’s your ass.

 

Kyle only wished he could move faster as he side stepped past his father. He could smell the beer on him as he made his way inside. As he moved into the house he could hear a football game on in the living room. As if there was any doubt, he could go missing for days and his father wouldn’t lose any sleep. He sure as hell wasn’t going to miss Kyle after only a few hours, more likely he was drunk earlier on and was waiting for Kyle to get home since he’d missed his curfew. Probably planning to really lay into him and as the night went on he’d put back a few more beers.

His dad had stages he’d go through whenever he drank. Just a few beers and everything was a joke, he’d laugh his head off at the stupidest thing. Then after a few more beers he’d be the meanest son of a bitch you’ve ever known. And a few beers later he’d be so mellowed out that you could drive a train through the house and he’d barely respond. It looks like Kyle had been gone just long enough to catch him in that last stage, luckily. More than a few times Kyle had had to tangle with his dad when he was in a drunken rage.

Kyle made his way up into his room and collapsed onto his bed, an act that was pretty painful in it’s self. And as he began to squirm his way out of his wet clothes the process was all that more painful. His pants were heavy with rain water and his fatigued legs struggled to kick them off. As he finally got a look at the damage he was a bit shocked. A few dark bruises were found on both legs but the real surprise was the state of his ankle. It was red and swollen, and he noticed that his foot was resting at an odd angle. He stood slowly and made his way over to his mirror as he removed his shirt.

He nearly cried at the site of his face. His lip was busted in several places, his right eye was nearly swollen shut; something he hadn’t even taken notice of. There was dried blood coming from his ears and his left eye was blood shot. On top of that there were little scrapes and bruises all over his face. It was times like this that he wished his mother were still alive. She’d died when he was little and other than the funeral for his cousin Jacob about a month ago it was the only time he’d ever been to a funeral. Funny he should think of Jacob now, or perhaps not, his cousin was special in a lot of ways. Kyle knew his father would have plenty to say in the morning about the kitchen not being clean but he was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to slip into bed and put this day behind him.

As he crawled into bed and got up under his sheets he couldn’t help but remember a time when he’d still be on the phone talking with Martin at this time of night. And just as quickly as the memory came, it left and was replaced. Replaced with a different train of thought altogether. They made him a victim, something he refused to be and they’d pay for it, everyone would. They treated him like dirt and wanted to act like he was such a bad person....well, he would be, from now on. Playing the good guy was no longer an option for him. And if you have to pick a role, better to be the bad guy than the victim.

Copyright © 2011 Empathy; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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