Jonathan's hand shot up instantly.

She nodded to him, wiping tears from her eyes. "Yes, what is it?"

"May I go to the bathroom?" he asked. "Please, I really need to!"

She nodded once again.

Jonathan ran as fast as a rocket out the door and to the boys' bathroom. He flung open a stall door and through himself in. The boy crumpled to the floor and bawled. If only he'd made amends with Billy for everything that'd happened! "Why God, why?" he cried, tears streaming down his small face. "Why couldn't have Billy and I made amends before he was murdered? God, why do people kill each other - their brothers and sisters in Christ?"

"Jonathan?" asked a man's voice.

Jonathan grew quiet. Good Lord, what's Mr. A doing here? "Yes, it's me," he confessed.

"Are you okay?" he wondered, voice concerned.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm ugh, constipated!" he lied. Constipated?

Mr. A stepped back from the stall. "Okay, well I'll leave you to that. Good, ugh, luck Jonathan." He slowly crept out the bathroom, forgetting he'd had to use the bathroom.

Finally, the tears subsided and Jonathan returned to class. Everyone gave the puffy-eyed boy odd looks - all except for Katie. Her eyes were kind and concerned.

Jonathan plopped down beside Fruitcake, trying to ignore everyone's staring eyes. The embarrassment burned him, but he couldn't let it take over him.

"Jonathan, may I speak to you out in the hallway?" Mrs. Hackenberg wondered, voice calm.

Jonathan nodded and rose from his chair. He followed his young teacher out the door. "What's wrong?"

"That's what I was about to ask you. Did you by any chance know Billy?" She searched his eyes for the truth.

"Yes, he rode my bus a couple years back," he replied, getting choked up.

Mrs. Hackenberg breathed in deeply. "He was a bully to you, wasn't he?"

"How'd you know?"

"He bullied almost everyone younger than him," she explained. "Do you know why he did?"

Jonathan shook his head. The only reason he could think of was that Billy was mean.

"His father abused him. He killed Billy last night for coming home late." She sucked in a deep breath to keep from crying.

Jonathan felt a cold sweat break out. "Abused?" he repeated, voice timid and shaking.

"Yes. Billy's father beat him all the time."

"Oh. May I go back to the bathroom, I ain't feeling well?" He ran as fast as he could when she'd given him permission. Rather than crying, he was going to puke. This was another thing to add onto the list about hating picture day.

Chapter 27

Prayers Or Peace?

As soon as his homework was done, Jonathan hurried into his bedroom so he could be alone. He had a lot of praying to do for Billy - as well as himself and his family.

Quietly, he knelt down before his bed and folded his hands. "Dear Lord Jesus, I have a lot on my mind right now, so I figured coming to You would be the best thing. You see, my old bully, Billy, was abused. He's dead now. I am nearly breaking in two as I think of this, but I am really concerned about where he is right now. I know I'm not supposed to judge, but Billy didn't exactly lead a Christian life. He was just a child too, so he may be in Heaven with You. I guess I'm praying he is at Home safely with You. While I'm at it, I wanna talk about myself.

"You know my mother abuses me. You know she has the potential to kill me, so do I. I'm asking not that you spare my life if that time does come, but that you somehow help her to understand Your love. She needs Your love, as well as the rest of my family. Please help them to find Your love.

"Lastly, I'd like to pray for myself. I'd like to ask that You help me to stay a Christian and follow Jesus no matter what. Also, that I'll be able to withstand the beatings, no matter how hard and painful. I don't want to be hurt by them all the time. Plus, I'd like You to help me to stop having bitter feelings towards my mom. It's too difficult for me to do this on my own. I guess that's all for now. In Jesus' name I pray, Amen."

He opened his eyes to find Kim hovering over his body. Fear flooded into his heart. "You heard?" he asked timidly.

She nodded slowly, anger rising within her. A frustrated fist was flung in his direction, smacking him in the mouth.

Jonathan could feel the fear and hurt burst out of him. A flood of tears poured out of his vibrant blue eyes as he prayed silently in his head.

"If you're gonna praise that fake God, then you'll face harsher beatings from Mommy!" she hollered. "If you choose to obey Mommy, you'll have more peace."

Jonathan felt doomed. Prayers or peace? He sure wanted peace, but he needed his prayers. What could he do?

Jonathan sat on his bed for hours, thinking on his decision. Becoming a Christian had given him some hope, was he ready to give that up for peace? What should I do?

Casey stepped into the room. "Hey Jonathan, you okay?" he asked.

Jonathan shook his head. "No."

"What's going on?"

Jonathan gave him sad eyes. "Mom gave me a choice; prayers or peace." He closed his eyes momentarily, trying to calm himself down.

"Oh. Well, good luck with that decision." He stepped out the room, in no mood to speak of Jonathan's religious beliefs. To him, religion was some brainwashing thing.

Jonathan sighed. "What a help," he mumbled to himself. He closed his eyes, hoping for a sign of what to do. This was one of the most frustrating to think about.

Hours later, Brent knocked on Jonathan's bedroom door. "Jonathan, hey buddy want to go with us to Larry's?" he asked, entering. He found his son sitting completely still on his bed, eyes glued to the wall. The boy had a frustrated look on his face, maybe even some tears in his eyes.

"Jonathan?" He sat down beside him on his bed and patted his shoulder. "Buddy, what's happened?"

Jonathan made the slightest move to gulp. "Dad, Mom gave me a decision; peace or prayers," he whimpered, lip curling.

Brent didn't understand the importance of the decision, but he did know it meant a lot to Jonathan. Seeing his son in such stress really tugged at his heart. "Oh I see."

Jonathan just barely shook his head. "No you don't, you don't see. You never have and probably never will. Nobody ever has," he said bitterly, eyes still on the wall.

Brent frowned. He patted Jonathan's shoulder in a fatherly way. "Believe me Jonathan, I've been through a childhood too. I understand your frustrations."

I bet Grandma and Grandpa didn't abuse you, he thought inside his head. The clear blue eyes were still staring at the wall, not daring to even look another direction. He wished he could stare at nothing, but that would be impossible. He was stuck staring at the dumb old wall while people angered him.

"Are you coming with us or not?" Brent wondered, returning to the main question.

"No."

Brent was confused. Didn't the boy want some food inside that stomach of his - he was being starved as it was! "Jonathan, you need to eat - it's been days."

"I'll fast while on my decision I guess."

"FAST? Jonathan you've been hungry for so long, EAT!" he hollered, getting uncontrollably upset.

Jonathan's jaw tightened at his fathers demand. "You can't make me," he said coldly.

"I can and I will!" Brent lifted the boy up with his strong arms and carried him into the living room. "He's ready, Kim."

They all headed out to the car, none too happy. Jonathan sat in the back with his two brothers, concentrated on the moving landscape.

"When should I propose to Chelsey?" Andrew whispered in Casey's ear.

Casey rolled his eyes. "I don't care when you do it, it's her loss if she goes with you!"

Andrew puckered his lips into a duck fashion. "Fine, then I'll decide that," he mumbled as usual.

"That's what I was insinuating."

Insinuating? Since when did Casey use such a vocabulary? "Have a new girlfriend?" Jonathan asked suddenly.

Casey seemed surprised, but nodded. "Yep, Mary Joy," he replied, smiling.

Jonathan nodded. "She pretty?"

"Very. Dark, long brown hair that is wavy and smells good. Bright blue eyes and a very shapely girl." He sighed longingly. "What about you, short stuff? Do you have a little girlfriend yet?"

Kim froze. Jonnythan? A girlfriend? Not on Mommy's dead body!

"Tst, yeah right! Ain't no girl gonna like me!"

"I donno, I think that Katie has her eye on you."

"How do you know Katie?"

"A little birdie," he teased, trying to hide a smile.

Jonathan shook his arm. "Come on, tell me who told you about her?" he pleaded.

"Alright, if you must know. I'm dating her big sister, Mary."

You? How in the world could you get a Christian girlfriend? "You saw how long and flowing her hair is?"

"Not exactly. I saw a picture."

"Oh. That makes sense. She wear her hair in a bun and long dresses?"

Casey nodded. "Might try to break her of that habit. Some nice, tight jeans will do her good."

"Not if she don't want any!" Jonathan protested. "'Sides, you should love her for her, not for her clothes and body."

"Whatever."

They rode the rest of the way in silence. No one had anything to say, for they were all thinking - probably on completely different things, but they were thinking!

When they arrived, Jonathan felt so out-of-place. It'd been an eternity since he'd been to a restaurant!

They took a booth and waited for the waitress to come and take their orders. Jonathan looked about the menu for something cheap and simple. He didn't want to make Kim pay more than she had to for him - although she did owe him big time!

"Jonnythan, order something," she told him sweetly.

Jonathan glanced up at her over the menu, biting his lip. "I don't know what to get."

"Well look!" she hollered.

Jonathan lay his menu on the table. "Just get me a Coke, please," he sighed.

Kim felt a sting of guilt. "Are you sure?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I'm sure." He hid his face in his hands to keep her from seeing how hurt he was.

Kim surprisingly placed a gentle hand on his arm. "Jonnythan, would you like to talk?" she wondered, eyes kind and not dreamy.

Jonathan gave her a confused look. "Talk?" he repeated as if he'd never heard of doing such a thing.

Kim nodded. "We need to talk, don't we?" she asked, a serious look on her face.

"'Bout what?" He didn't have the slightest idea what she was planning to do, nor if he wanted to participate in it.

"Everything." She sighed deeply. "Everything that's ever happened."

Jonathan shrugged. "Maybe. . ."

"Well, we aren't gonna!" she sneered loudly. She laughed like a hyena until her ugly face turned a bright red.

Tears filled Jonathan's eyes, but he didn't dare start to bawl - not in front of her! "Excuse me, I need to go to the bathroom," he said, getting up quickly. He ran inside as fast as he could, not even bothering to wait for a response.

He slammed shut the bathroom door and curled up in a ball on the floor. Not only had his mother's game hurt him, he was also frustrated about the decision he had to make. A good babyish cry would do him a load of good, he figured.

After the tears no longer came out, Jonathan felt sick to the stomach. To his displeasure, he started vomiting in the toilet. He didn't know whether he was actually sick, or just that depressed. Guess it don't really matter.

"What's keeping Jonnythan?" Kim asked her husband.

Brent rolled his eyes. "I don't think he's feeling well," he told her, gulping. He stared longingly at the restroom door, wishing there was a way he knew of to help his son.

After about half an hour, he returned to the table, eyes red and puffy. He took a seat beside Casey and stared blankly at the wall.

"What kept you so long, Jonnythan?" Kim wondered, voice rising.

Jonathan gripped the table with his small hands. "Wanna know what kept me so long, do ya?" he asked, voice harsh. "Wanna know?"

Kim nodded, frightened.

"I got my period!" he hollered. Normally, he would have laughed at himself for saying that, but not today. Today was a sad day.

"Don't lie to Mommy, what kept you so long?"

"Your dumb ass," he replied bitterly. Swearing was not something he liked, but today he didn't even care. He didn't know whether he'd be staying a Christian or not, so why not swear?

Kim sat back in befuddlement. "Jonnythan!" she gasped, covering her duck lips.

"Yes, Queen of Bitches?" he said cockily.

Kim gave Brent a shocked look. "Did you hear what he said to Mommy?" she asked him.

Brent nodded silently.

"You'll be sorry, Jonnythan," she said.

"So will you!" he hollered back, not caring who heard their fight.

"Do you want a thrashing with Daddy's belt when we get home?" she threatened.

"Bring it on, asshole! Let's see if you can beat the hell out of me!" He was shaking very badly now, as if he might soon explode from the anger.

"Excuse me, but can you control your child, we want to maintain a friendly environment here?" one of the workers asked Kim.

Kim glared ruefully at Jonathan. "He'll be punished," she reassured the woman.

"Yeah, beaten the shit out of too," Jonathan added.

Jonathan lay wounded on his bedroom floor in a pool of blood. He should've been thinking when he sat there swearing at his mother. Now he was paying for it, really bad too.

The slit in his cheek hurt unbearably bad. By the morning, it'd probably be infected too. Jonathan wished his mother would have cut open his chest and stabbed his heart.

His vision was blurring now, so he decided to let himself slip into a coma. What difference did it make anyways?

Brent entered the room a few minutes later to fix him up. His knees grew weak when he saw that Jonathan was not waking up. "Kim, get the hell in here!" he called, fear-stricken.

Kim ran into the room, blood still on her shirt, jeans, and boots. "What?" she wondered.

"Jonathan, he's not waking up!" he cried, pointing to the mess on the floor.

Kim knelt down beside her child and touched him. "Mommy's not a doctor, but she thinks Jonnythan's in a coma."

Brent squeezed his eyes shut. He now had the jitters, but didn't even care. "We've got to get him to the hospital."

"He's coming around," an odd-voiced man told Brent and Kim.

Jonathan opened his eyes. He didn't ask what happened, he knew what had happened to him. He lifted his hand up to his face and grew scared. Why was there paper stuck on his face?

"Stitches," the doctor informed.

Jonathan nodded. "How many?"

"Twenty."

Jonathan sighed. "Goody," he sighed, closing his eyes once again.

"Jonathan, are you alright?" Brent asked his son.

Jonathan shook his head. "What a dumb question to ask me!" he exclaimed.

"I guess so. You were in a coma." He put on a fake smile for his child's sake.

"The coma was a real eye-opener," Jonathan said suddenly. "God told me that He was the way." He turned his head to his mother. "Mom, I'm choosing prayers."

Kim snickered.

"I figure dying with Christ is better than alone. Maybe you should be thinking on that."

Kim rolled her eyes at him. "Just get some rest" was all she said.

Chapter 28

Middle School Drama

Time goes by as slow as a turtle, but a new school year does start soon. Jonathan is now in middle school, and it is early October.

Jonathan's first class was always communications with Mrs. Snook. He had her for the first three periods.

He took his seat beside the one person he almost hated - Fruitcake. Fruitcake annoyed him so bad he almost wanted to hurt him.

"Get your mug shot sentences done," Mrs. Snook said in her irritating voice.

Jonathan worked hard on his sentence, trying to make sense of what he was to do to correct it. He tried to behave as best he could, for Mrs. Snook took no nonsense.

Tyler finished the sentence, then took it up to her for her to check it. "Here's my thingy Mrs. Snook," he told her, shoving it in front of her.

"Your thingy?" she repeated, eyeing him.

"My mug shot sentence," he corrected, smiling.

She nodded, then took out her green pen. He'd gotten everything correct, so he got a ten out of ten.

He placed his book on the shelf, then returned to his seat.

To be continued. . .

In a few days to a few weeks. . .