I Lose Everything to an

Italian Guy

Sitting in the principle's office is never fun especially when it's for fighting. Yet here I was again twirling my thumbs and waiting for my uncle to show up. To be honest, it's really not my fault. The kid really had it coming, because once you get me started I'm a slave to my rage. Plus, he should of guessed from my nickname "War Machine" how the fight was going to turn out. But still I had managed yet again to put another kid in the hospital. These were the reasons I was going to use when I was called into the principle's office, which happened a few seconds later.

"Jack Myrmidon!" Principle Donald called. I trudged into his office to beg and plead once again, not to be expelled. When I walked in my Uncle Greg was sitting in a chair to the left of the office. He didn't look angry just tired. Most likely tired of all my getting into trouble and most of all tired of setting a bad example for my little brother Jason. When I sat down, P- Donny ( long hilarious story that involves a rapping principle) as the students called him began his speech on how disappointed he was in me and how I couldn't seem to control my temper and just blah blah blah. I couldn't care less what he had to say; he'd probably just give me another two weeks out of school suspension. It was my uncle's words that really had me worried, though I'm pretty sure I already knew what he had to say.

He took me to the car to wait on Jason. School hadn't ended yet. "What happened?" he asked quietly. He wouldn't look at me. So I re accounted the story.

Flashback- I walked into J. Edgar Hoover High School determined to make it a good day and I did pretty good for my first five classes. But then this idiot football player named Samuel Red started harassing my little brother while we were changing classes. So naturally , I walked over to him to tell him to lay off or else. Then I smelled his breath and weird enough he was drunk at the age of 14, and everything was a downward spiral from there. He threatened me to stay out of it, but I didn't listen because the next words out of his mouth hammered the nail permanently into his coffin. These were his exact words. "...stay out of it before you end up like your whore of a mother, dead and..." He never finished that sentence because in the next second I had him on the ground with his right arm behind his back, smashing his ugly face into ground before Jason pulled me off of him.

By the time I finished my story, the final bell had rang. Uncle Greg was silent for a few moments before speaking.

" You..."

"Yeah, Yeah I know. I should have handled it better and controlled my anger and..."

" Let me finish. You did the right thing. I would have done the same thing. Hell I feel like beating up the punk right now for what he said about my kid sister. But you should have at least waited till after school, that way there would be less consequences." I wasn't surprised, when it came to my mom Uncle Greg knew no boundaries if someone insulted her.

Finally, Jason showed up. He looked tired and frustrated, and of course he had to be the only one to express chagrin about what happened.

"Well, it's official. What school do think we'll be going to now Uncle Greg?" he asked.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa I hope you don't think this is my fault." I complained.

" Well, I'm pretty sure it wasn't Mother Theresa, although she does have a temper." He mused sarcastically.

"Funny." I replied. "But honestly-"

He cut me off. "I told you to let me get the next one, Jack it isn't fair. When do I get a cool nickname slash rep for being a total bad ass?" That's when I started laughing. "For a second there, I thought you were mad at me for getting into another fight."

"Where'd you get that insane idea? I just wish you would've let me get a few hits in."

"Then why did you pull me off of him?"

"So I could get a shot, smarty."

I decided to let it go because we were home. Turns out I was worried for nothing. I guess I should have known; all three of us, Jason, my Uncle Greg, and I, are all very violent people. No we don't beat up on each other when we get angry but... never mind that's exactly what we do.

Jason was the one to break the silence we got out of the car. "You guys I'm gonna... I'm gonna mull things over a bit here in the car. Cool ?" We agreed and went inside out three bedroom apartment. But the second Uncle Greg walked in he was flung against the wall by an unseen force stuck there groaning

I rushed in to find a tall, pale, dark haired man in what was obviously an Italian suit holding his hand up towards my uncle. Then he held out his hand and all of the shadows in the room gathered around it and formed a pitch black sword in his hand. He then proceeded to slam the sword into my uncle's chest before I could react.

"NOOOOOO!" I screamed and I charged him. I got a clear shot at his face, but I instantly regretted it because my entire arm exploded with pain and I was thrown back against the wall by the same unseen force. He scowled at me.

" Just for that you, feccia della terra, I will make you suffer before I tear this world apart." He really was Italian. But that didn't matter because in the next second he held out his hand again. My vision was gone, so all that I heard was a chilling laugh and all I felt was an immense heat before I lost consciousness.