Defy Respect
Ch. 2: Recollections
A/n: Okay, this is where it gets personal for me, in some of the flashbacks. (Munches on fifth Twinkie) Why the hell am I eating these things? I loathe Twinkies... Oh to hell with it! I'm suffering from insomnia for the fourth night in a row...Boy, my counselor's gonna be questioning me when I mention sleep depravation...I give Johnny a full last name, don't hurt me...It's different than what it is in 'Smile'...So don't get your hopes up, folks, Squee is not here!
Edgar watched the drop of blood trickle into Johnny's mouth. The maniac swallowed, grimacing at the coppery taste.
"I've forgotten what blood tastes like. I do not miss it," Johnny said.
Edgar spoke up.
"I knew someone in high school named Johnny. Seeing you with blood trickling down your face reminded me of him,"
Johnny sneered.
"I'm glad I could help you reminisce," he said, sourly.
"No, the Johnny I knew was really unpopular, he was beaten up so many times, I thought he'd finally died,"
Johnny turned, his back facing Edgar. A faint smile spread across the madman's face.
'I did, Edgar, I finally did die,' he thought.
'In mind and soul, but not in body, even though I wish I did,'
~~FLASHBACK~~
Two burly jocks pinned a lanky, struggling youth to a locker.
"Pay up, Caspian!" said one, while his friend had the young man by the shoulders.
"I-I-I told you, Roland, I don't have any money!" the lanky youth gasped.
Roland sneered.
"You've used that excuse three times this week, you're hiding something," he turned to two more jocks who were watching.
"Search him,"
A fifteen-year-old Johnny screamed in his head. He wasn't hiding anything. But, he knew what was going to happen once the dense morons found out he wasn't lying. They'd beat the shit out of him, laugh at his pain, and then leave him on the cold linoleum floor, shaken, bruised and bleeding. Then, other students would just look at him as they passed. No one was going to play the Good Samaritan. No one ever did.
~~END FLASHBACK~~
Johnny felt a tear fall down his cheek, mixing with another drop of blood. He brushed it away and turned to face Edgar.
"I knew him, too. He did die. On the night of senior prom, remember?" Johnny said. He pulled down his right shirtsleeve a little, reveling a vertical scar on his wrist to himself. His first suicide attempt.
~~FLASHBACK~~
Eighteen-year-old Johnny C. sighed angrily, wiping away the blood from a cut he received from the high school's crack addict.
'Shit,' he thought.
'I'm even hated by the fooking chem-head! Why do I even bother to find a job? I'll just suffer what I do now ten times over. I won't last a minute in the real world.'
He pulled out a knife from a kitchen drawer. He then brought it down on his wrist.
~~END FLASHBACK~~
"Yeah, I remember," replied Edgar.
"I was the one who found him. I saw him off to the hospital. That was the last I saw of him."
The restrained man sighed sadly.
"I still see it. All the blood. I feel guilty. I should've helped more."
Johnny swallowed.
"There was nothing you could have done. He's still suffering anyway."
Vargas looked confused.
"How do you know?" he asked.
Johnny sighed, showing Edgar the scar on his wrist.
"He's me."
Edgar's glasses slipped off his face and shattered. Johnny was shocked to see that Vargas was smiling.
A/n: ME NO SLEEP...Z? ME NO SLEEP...Z?
Ch. 2: Recollections
A/n: Okay, this is where it gets personal for me, in some of the flashbacks. (Munches on fifth Twinkie) Why the hell am I eating these things? I loathe Twinkies... Oh to hell with it! I'm suffering from insomnia for the fourth night in a row...Boy, my counselor's gonna be questioning me when I mention sleep depravation...I give Johnny a full last name, don't hurt me...It's different than what it is in 'Smile'...So don't get your hopes up, folks, Squee is not here!
Edgar watched the drop of blood trickle into Johnny's mouth. The maniac swallowed, grimacing at the coppery taste.
"I've forgotten what blood tastes like. I do not miss it," Johnny said.
Edgar spoke up.
"I knew someone in high school named Johnny. Seeing you with blood trickling down your face reminded me of him,"
Johnny sneered.
"I'm glad I could help you reminisce," he said, sourly.
"No, the Johnny I knew was really unpopular, he was beaten up so many times, I thought he'd finally died,"
Johnny turned, his back facing Edgar. A faint smile spread across the madman's face.
'I did, Edgar, I finally did die,' he thought.
'In mind and soul, but not in body, even though I wish I did,'
~~FLASHBACK~~
Two burly jocks pinned a lanky, struggling youth to a locker.
"Pay up, Caspian!" said one, while his friend had the young man by the shoulders.
"I-I-I told you, Roland, I don't have any money!" the lanky youth gasped.
Roland sneered.
"You've used that excuse three times this week, you're hiding something," he turned to two more jocks who were watching.
"Search him,"
A fifteen-year-old Johnny screamed in his head. He wasn't hiding anything. But, he knew what was going to happen once the dense morons found out he wasn't lying. They'd beat the shit out of him, laugh at his pain, and then leave him on the cold linoleum floor, shaken, bruised and bleeding. Then, other students would just look at him as they passed. No one was going to play the Good Samaritan. No one ever did.
~~END FLASHBACK~~
Johnny felt a tear fall down his cheek, mixing with another drop of blood. He brushed it away and turned to face Edgar.
"I knew him, too. He did die. On the night of senior prom, remember?" Johnny said. He pulled down his right shirtsleeve a little, reveling a vertical scar on his wrist to himself. His first suicide attempt.
~~FLASHBACK~~
Eighteen-year-old Johnny C. sighed angrily, wiping away the blood from a cut he received from the high school's crack addict.
'Shit,' he thought.
'I'm even hated by the fooking chem-head! Why do I even bother to find a job? I'll just suffer what I do now ten times over. I won't last a minute in the real world.'
He pulled out a knife from a kitchen drawer. He then brought it down on his wrist.
~~END FLASHBACK~~
"Yeah, I remember," replied Edgar.
"I was the one who found him. I saw him off to the hospital. That was the last I saw of him."
The restrained man sighed sadly.
"I still see it. All the blood. I feel guilty. I should've helped more."
Johnny swallowed.
"There was nothing you could have done. He's still suffering anyway."
Vargas looked confused.
"How do you know?" he asked.
Johnny sighed, showing Edgar the scar on his wrist.
"He's me."
Edgar's glasses slipped off his face and shattered. Johnny was shocked to see that Vargas was smiling.
A/n: ME NO SLEEP...Z? ME NO SLEEP...Z?
