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Authors: Melissa Perea

Tags: #Contemporary, #Young Adult

Seeds of Hate (20 page)

BOOK: Seeds of Hate
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He grabbed me by the shoulders and looked me in the eyes, "Remember, son, there's nothing in life you can't have. If you see something you want, all you have to do is grab it. Grab it and it's yours."

I nodded and nodded and then nodded some more. He'd been telling me this for years now. So far he'd proven the theory true. He always had whatever he wanted. And whomever he wanted.

"Life is for the taking," he said and then squeezed me hard and slapped me on the back. "Happy Birthday. I'll be out late. See you later."

He walked away and got into a black car with tinted windows that had been running the entire time we were in the driveway. It sped off with a soft rumble and left me staring at my car. My really nice car.

I walked back inside to search for my mom. Her car was in the driveway, but I hadn't seen her. A little yellow note sat on the kitchen counter with three hundred dollars cash.

"Money is for food. Had to get away - Mom"

I pocketed the cash and swiped the note into the sink. Letting the water run over it, the paper became soaked and the ink bled until the letters dissolved. The note stuck to the stainless steel until the water pushed it down the drain. I turned on the garbage disposal for five seconds and left.

The door to my bedroom slammed shut behind me as I dropped onto my bed and passed out. My parents were gone and I had zero desire to go out. So I slept.

***

I fumbled around searching for the light switch. Someone was banging on the back door repeatedly, and it was pissing me off. Once I had light, I slid down the stairs and opened the door.

"What the hell is wrong—" My mouth stopped operating mid-sentence. I wasn't. He wasn't. Why was he here?

He stood three feet away, not even blinking. His face still bruised from Homecoming.

"Why?" he asked. The word was quiet, but hard.

"I'm surprised you remembered the address. Didn't think I'd ever see your face on my porch." For once I was at a loss as to what to say. I thought of the present he'd left in my locker earlier. Is that why he came? He'd thought the gesture would soften me. Remind me.

"Why?" he repeated.

My teeth pressed into one another. I began to breathe out my nose as my hand squeezed the doorknob.

"Why the fuck what, Javi?" I said, each word stamped in metal. His face flinched. Finally, a reaction.

He closed his eyes and palmed his face with both hands. His chest began to expand faster and faster until it stopped. I froze in place.

Was he finally going to hit me? Pay me back? Get his revenge? I'd wanted this day to come. Stand up for yourself, Javi. Hit me. Pay me back. Show me you're angry!

My eyes went wide and glossed over with hunger. I could feel the saliva in my mouth puddling with anticipation. I was excited. My hand let go of the doorknob, and I stood open in acceptance. Hit me, Javi. Hit me. Do it. Do it now.

Up and down my lips moved in a silent chant. I wanted to end this. I was begging him. I needed him to hit me.

Javier continued to stand there. No movement. No words. His breathing slow. He dropped his hands to his sides, but his eyes remained closed. The base of them wet.

"Are you crying?" I asked. Disbelief and sarcasm flying out with each word. He hadn't changed at all. He was worse.

"Why?" he repeated, his eyes still closed and his hands balled into fists.

"Don't you remember?" I replied. Hit me, Javier. Just hit me and then we can both walk away.

"Do you remember?" he asked, his eyes turning thoughtful. Yes, I remember, but I've spent the last several years trying to forget.

"It hasn't changed. My reasons are still the same."

"But Nicole? Why her? She's nothing special. You don't even like her," Javier said as his panic grew.

"Because," I replied.

"Because why? Why!" his mouth growled out the last word.

"She wants you," I said.

"So this is just another game? Another manipulation for you to take something from me?" Javier's questioning made it sound bad, but all I wanted was for him to feel less. Less than me.

"Basically," I replied.

"This isn't you. What changed?" he asked.

"Life is for the taking," I said. And there it was. My father's words becoming my own. I didn't realize it until later that I had repeated him. But maybe he was right. Maybe he understood it all better than me.

Javier hunched forward as he rubbed the darkened edge of his right eye. "Did you get it?" he asked.

"Get what?"

"The box," he replied.

I thought of the gift sitting upstairs underneath the porn. Inside there was a picture—the two of us roasting marshmallows in his apartment. We were eight. It was a good memory, but it tasted sour so I spit it out.

"Your life is so pathetic, Javi. What's the point of living it?"

A large truck pulled up into the driveway, their headlights drowning out my vision. My teammates were here. The engine silenced as people poured out the door. I looked back to Javier, but he was gone. Obscenities and jokes were being yelled across my front lawn as more cars arrived. Turning around, I saw his shadow through the back door.

He stopped underneath the motion light and stared back at me. Shaking his head from side to side, his chin fell to his chest and then he ran away.

The last time I saw him running in my backyard we were twelve. Both of us had smiles. That same night we walked inside and caught my dad. Together. He had his penis in another woman and her naked breasts in his hands. Every time I saw Javier, I saw that woman.

Every. Time.

I was the one who had a dad. I was the one who had everything. It wasn't supposed to be this way.

***

It took only thirty minutes until my house was filled with chicks, booze and most of the wrestling team. The party started at 10 PM and wouldn't stop until the neighbors called the cops. It was the cycle of high school.

If it wasn't here, it was somewhere else. I stood around and watched, but I couldn't get into it.

"Hey Nate? Where are your parents, bro?" Some guy from my English class yelled out.

"Good question," I replied.

They all laughed. The idea of no parents a novelty. One that would be righteously accepted on weekends and evenings.

"I wish my parents left town as often as yours did. They always want us to do ‘family stuff’ on the weekends," said that same guy from my English class. "It's a drag."

I looked around at my classmates. Some were hooking up in the corners, others were outside smoking weed, and there were a few playing video games. This was what high school had to offer.

Several girls were at my disposal, but I wasn't in the mood. I picked up a cup, unlocked my father's liquor cabinet and poured in some vodka. A lot of vodka. The key dropped into my pocket and I headed outside.

"Livin’ the life!" A different guy yelled as I passed him by while exiting the kitchen. I grabbed the drink he was holding, held it up over his head and poured it over him. The cup fell to the floor and I continued walking.

"Nate, where you going?" said a soft female voice I knew, but didn't want to deal with.

I lifted my hand into the air and flipped off my house guests. I knew they didn't really care about me. And I didn't really give a shit about them. I unlocked my new car and took a seat, breathing in the fresh leather.

A couple more years and this would be over. All of it. Javier included.

Chapter 26

Day After Nathan's Birthday - The Past

(Izzy)

I stood outside and knocked quietly. Javier was supposed to be at my house over an hour ago. I knew Maribel was working, and after the past few weeks I didn't want him alone. I knocked again, this time harder, but still no response.

Pulling the phone from my pocket, I dialed their house number. I could hear it ringing, but no one picked up. The recording answered and I hung up, shoving the phone back in my pocket. I banged harder, this time calling out for him.

Nothing.

I moved away from the door and began to pace the hallway. The lights at the end flickered as the door next to Javier's apartment opened. A small boy in pajamas popped his head out and stared at me.

"Hey," I said. "Are you Gio?"

No reply.

"Have you seen Javier?"

The little boy shook his head twice from side to side, and then an older woman came out and yanked on his shirt.

"What the fuck are you doing outside, Gio? Get in here now," she said. Her head turned both ways, scanning the hall. When she saw me, she huffed and then slammed the door shut. I placed my hand on my chin and dragged my foot back and forth over the dingy welcome mat.

I knew he had to be home. He had nowhere else to be or go. Knocking once more, I removed any hesitation and proceeded with anger. On the fifth or sixth knock, I stopped mid-air, staring at the apartment number just to the left of the door. It was twisted and bowed away from the wall. Pushing it to the side, there was a strip of duct tape behind it. I pulled the tape away and stuck on the other end was a small gold key.

Bingo.

I paused before ripping the key off and inserting it into the lock. The metal grated against the gears as I pushed it in, turned left and clicked it open. The apartment was silent. Only the fridge hummed and the clock on the crooked bookshelf pinged, noting the seconds of time passing.

"Javier?" I spoke, my words trailing down the hallway. "Javier?" I said again, louder.

No response. I took ten steps toward the first door on my left.

"Javier?" I whispered.

I knocked three times, twisted the handle and pushed it open. Empty. Javier's keys, bag and shoes lay in a heap on the floor, next to a pile of books.

Backing up, I turned toward the other side of the apartment and approached the second door. No response. I applied pressure to the handle and turned it once, but it wouldn't budge. The locked metal triggered a reaction and I heard muffled sounds from the other side. I pulled on the handle harder. The noises grew louder and I heard garbled breathing and choking.

"Javier! Is that you? Let me in!" I yelled, pulling, banging and kicking against the door.

"Javier! What the hell is going on?" Jiggling the handle provided no escape for my fear. The door remained locked and the sounds continued. I scanned the apartment, looking for something, anything that I could use.

Without thinking, I began to ram my right upper shoulder and the right side of my body into the door to break through the lock.

The choking continued.

Two more slams against the door and the tiny bolt in the plaster yanked away. I stumbled forward as the force of my arrival dropped me onto the floor. My face smashed into the itchy polyester fibers of a baby blue bathroom rug, and my head cracked against the side of the bathtub.

Rolling over, I saw shoeless feet dangling in the air above me, frantically kicking just mere inches above the tiled floor.

The scent of mildew burned the fibers of my throat as I held in the last bite of available oxygen.

One.

After everything we had survived?

Two.

This can't be happening.

Three.

I won't let him kill you.

Those three seconds blazed through my body as I propelled myself into motion and reacted to the situation. Every time I stood up, I'd slip. The tile, the countertops, the bathtub—everything was covered with oil. I picked up the small rug on the floor and used it as a grip. Throwing it over the side wall of the tub, I placed one foot on it and kicked my body up off the floor. Grabbing the metal rod bolted into the walls, I forced all of my weight down onto it in an effort to break the connection.

I watched as Javier's hands grasped at the braided leather binding wrapped several times around his throat. He swung his legs out in an attempt to grab the sink or the edge of the bathtub. Blood had started pooling in his face as he tried to pull up on the binding and breathe. It wasn't working.

Abandoning the rod, I jumped up on the bathtub and grabbed Javier's hanging body, but he just pushed and fought with me. The more I tried to help him, the harder he fought, until he finally kicked me from my position. I slipped against the porcelain and my weight pulled down even harder on Javier's neck.

I let go and dropped to the floor, my head crashing into the tiled wall, but it wasn't soon enough. Javier let out a garbled scream of air as the binding pulled tight and ripped against his flesh. I watched as small beads of blood dribbled to the surface, the thin skin on his neck peeling open against the pressure.

My head spun from the impact, but I had to get him down.

Every attempt I made at standing resulted in me slipping back down into the shower. I reached out for the towel hanging against the wall and threw it on the floor. Kicking off my shoes, I grabbed the soap dish against the wall and pulled myself up.

"Damn it, Javier! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU THINKING!!!" I screamed.

BOOK: Seeds of Hate
8.77Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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