Chapter 3- Rough Beginnings

When I got home I did nothing but sit in my bed and stare at the piece of paper that could possibly lead to a better tomorrow. Every now and then I would sit reach for my phone and dial the number, then I would delete it and continue to stare.

"Should I? What if it was for someone else? Is it too soon?" I kept telling myself. Why do I over think things so much. Eithier way it's too late maybe i'll try tomorrow, probably not. As I got ready for bed, my mother came in, she probably heard me talking to myself again.

"Intresting conversation?" She had said in a teasing voice. I had bearly noticed that the paper was still on my bed I quickly grabed and stashed under the pillow I had been laying on.

"You could say that." I had told her with a nervous smile hiding the paper from her.

"Well, lights out hon." She told me turning off my bedroom light.

"Alright, Night mom." I told her.

"Night, pops." She told me.

I knocked out pretty fast, that usually never happens, probably due to me being in a calm state. That was the third time in a row I had that dream, pretty freaky, this time was different though. I was able to remember the details about that girl, and it was her. Same hair, same clothes, same adorable smile, and everything. Was it always her? Or was my mind just using her as a placeholder? It didn't matter all that matters is that I have to see her again.

I began to get ready for school, and then it hit me I had to see my Guidance Counsler with Vito today. Dammit, just as I thought my life was getting better, I have group therapy with salimi brains. Straight as I got to school I walked into the Office and was greeted by the principle, who personally walked me to where the guidance counsler was. She looked normal enough, she had some medals on her wall for gynmastics and ballet, probably from when she was in high school. The plaque on her desk had read "S. Garder, Guidance Counsler". I walked in to see Vito slouching on the chair cross armed and seemed really upset.

"I'm getting you shrimpy just you wait!" He had said.

"So, guess slamming me into the computers, and beating me to a pulp wasn't enough!" I said wlifting up my shirt to show him my cuts and bruises.

"Enough vith the riverly you two." She had said with a russian accent.

"My name is Mrs. Garder, and I vill be dealing vith the two ov you." She had said.

"Whatever lady, let's just get this done so I can head out already." Vito had told her.

"Alrighty, then vhen did zis little rivlery begin vith you two?" She had asked us.

The memories were all coming back that faithful day on my first day of high school. I was being shown around the school by my cousin Manitoba, or many Mannh is what I call him. He was a senior at the time so he knew just about anything about the school, plus he was one of the more popular kids so I thought if he gave in a good about me to people around the school I would be jsut like him.

"And this is where your first class will be at Joey. Got it." He had told me with his austrialian accent he had gained from spending almost his entire childhood over there.

"Ya I think I do, bur still this alot to take in for a 13 year old, especially one as small as me." I had told him. At that time I was only about 4'11 before my growth spurt and puberty really hit me.

"Listen mate, If your ever need of any help just come by to where me and me buds hang out alright?" He had told me.

I simply noded and smiled and walked into my class. It was pretty nerve racking walking and not knowing anyone. All these people had already known each other since middle school and was just some new kid who just joined the school district after moving. I sat down and kept to myself until hearing a friendly voice call out to me.

"I've never seen you before in my old school. You must be new! My name is Cameron Jones. Nice to meet you!" The person had called out. It was an African American boy; small just like how I was, he wore glasses and a bright red hoddie with some shorts and white sneakers.

"Hey Cameron, my name is Michael, but people call me Mike. Well, they used to in my old school." I told him with a bit of depression in my voice.

"Well, i'll call you Mike, it suits you plus it'll make you feel more comforatble around here." He had said giving me a large grin. I gave him one back exposing th gap in my teeth to show him how comforatble I was. Just as I thought my high school experience was begining to look good, he had to show up! The bell had just rang and in came a boy hair gelled back, white tank top, blue jeans, and a shark tooth neckalace to show of his arragance.

"I hope this doesn't become a daily thing with you young man." The teacher had sassed him for being late on the first day.

"Well what can I say toots, the ladies can get enough of the Vito!" He had said kicking back in his chair.

"Ya I bet." I had said louder than I thought and saw him staring straight away.

"Looks like Vito just found his victim for this school, and on the first day too. I hope you like doing double the homework Wimp." He had told me slapping the back of my head. I remember Manny telling me to stand up for myself when stuff like this would ever happen. So, me being the ignorant bastard back then, my instinct was to turn around and punch him right in the face. I knew it didn't hurt him all he did was move back and looked at me with a fit of rage.

"That all, let me show you how a man punches shrimp!" He had said before punching straight across my face causing the biggest bruise in history. The teacher tried to break us up, but after that Vito had pinned my small defenseless body against my table and beat me to a pulp. I still have the scars from the table to remind me of that day. As i was lost I in a flashback, Vito had explained a dumbed down version of the experience.

"This dipshit punched me in the face so I kicked his ass and made him do my homework for the rest of that year." He had said picking at his nails.

"Well, I vould have expected him to start this drama, but I guess ve vill have to start vith you then Michael." She had said to me.

"Ok, what are we doing then?" I had asked.

"First, i vill be asking you some questins that vill help me to understand this random outbreak of violence. Let us begin. So vhat was your childhood liked?" She had explained and asked me. I was hoping to avoid this meeting becoming a therapy session.