I love this story.

Chapter 7:

I hit him. I hit him as hard as I can. I hit him so hard he falls down.

And then I freak out.

I've never ever hurt anybody before. I don't know, I guess it's something in my OCD, since I'm already paranoid I've hurt people when I haven't… I blame myself for airplane crashes and car accidents and all this stuff I didn't do. I've never even killed a mosquito before. I've never hurt anything.

And I just hit him.

Before I know what I'm doing, I'm running, running, running out of there. I can't deal with this. I feel like I'm going to explode.

I don't know why, but as I'm running out of the Tipton, running anywhere but back to that basement, all I can think is of that song Cody and I sang when we went to math camp with Warren. Why that song comes into my mind, I have no idea. Honestly.

Inverse tangent, hyperbolic sign, 3.14159, yay numbers! Inverse tangent, hyperbolic sign, 3.14159, yay numbers!

As soon as I'm about three blocks away from the Tipton, my legs give out and I don't know why but I'm bawling—I'm crying so hard. And that's saying something, because you know I hate crying.

WHY AM I CRYING? That's what I want to know. I have never given a flipping, flying fig about Zackary Martin! So why should I be crying now?

I'm breathing hard and I can't stop crying because the sobs keep on coming out in these weird hiccupy gasps. Then I realize that I know why.

Sure I messed up my whole peace thing of never ever hurting anybody in the whole entire world not even squishing an ant, but I think the main reason is because I don't know who I am anymore. Yesterday I would have said, "I'm Tapeworm," but I don't think I'm Tapeworm anymore, because Tapeworm doesn't hurt people.

I'm afraid I'm becoming more like my dad. I mean, I just hit Zack so hard he fell down just like my dad did to me last night.

And I don't want that to happen, because if I do, I'll lose myself. Forever.

xxx

After stumbling around for like an hour, I manage to walk home. It really didn't help that it was raining either. It also didn't help that I have like the worse sense of direction in the world. I got lost at least fourteen—even number—times. My legs hurt really bad. Believe it or not, three miles is harder to walk than you would think.

Anyway, by the time I get home, it's pretty late because the sky is already dark. I haven't started on any of my homework, which means zeros the next day for sure. I knock on the door of my house, and my dad opens it. Great. Mom must be working late.

"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?" he yells after taking one look at my soaking wet shirt and hair.

I just push myself in and ignore him. I go up to my room—which is a really nice orange, by the way, well orange is my favorite color—and drop my backpack on the ground. I pull out my math and try to concentrate on it. If I skip one more assignment in math, Miss Evans will probably kick me out of advanced placement and then I'd have to be with Bob and Zack. Eeww…

Anyway, I've managed to pull out my math book and paper. My cell phone rings. I flip it open. It's Zack.

"Hey," I say. "What do you want?"

"Tapeworm?" Zack says. "I'm going to kill you."

"I'm sorry," I say. "Are you ok? I really didn't mean to. I cried for like three hours after I hit you."

"Yeah right," Zack says.

I start explaining all my ideals and everything, leaving my dad out of it completely, of course. But then my dad comes in. Oh God. I don't need this.

"WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN DOING? WHERE WERE YOU? WHY ARE YOU LATE? WHY ARE YOU WET?"

It sounds like he's almost concerned, but who am I kidding? He's only worried because if Mom found out he lost me, then she'd kick him out.

"LOOK AT ME BOY!"

I turn around and face him. I can feel myself getting angry again and I feel like I'm going to cry, but I decide I've done enough crying for the day.

"I'm sorry," I whisper. I really feel sad, and all the sudden the anger just sort of drains out of me. My cell phone falls to the floor.

"DON'T YOU SAY SORRY TO ME BOY! YOU HAVE TO GET HOME ON TIME! YOU HAVE TO DO YOUR HOMEWORK! HOW DO YOU EXPECT TO DO WELL, YOU WORTHLESS KID? WHY DON'T YOU DO YOUR WORK INSTEAD OF TALKING TO YOUR FRIENDS? YOU'RE PATHETIC." He doesn't notice that the cell is still open. I bend down to pick it up. I don't need Zack to know this. I have enough problems as it is. I don't need Zack spreading rumors around school.

I try to close it, but my dad kicks my hand.

A tear falls. I can't help it.

My dad sees it. Instead of getting sad, he gets even more mad. "DON'T YOU DARE CRY YOU COWARD! YOU WASTE OF LIFE! DON'T YOU DARE CRY—STOP BEING SUCH A WUSS!"

I can't help it. I cry harder.

"I'm sorry," I say again, but Dad doesn't care.

He slaps me, knocking me to the ground. He slams his foot hard on my back, knocking the wind out of me and steps on my ribs until there's this sickening crunch sound like the time Zack squished all of Cody's potato chips. I scream out in pain and he kicks me in the face. So my screams are softened to whimpers. He then reaches down with his hands and grabs my throat. I can't breathe. He's squeezing harder and I'm gasping and trying to breathe, but I can't. Everything gets all hazy and the room starts spinning. The song is running through my mind again, and I wish more than anything that it would get out and this would just stop. Inverse tangent, hyperbolic sign, 3.14159, yay numbers! Inverse tangent, hyperbolic sign, 3.14159, yay numbers! Inverse tangent, hyperbolic sign, 3.14159, yay numbers! Inverse tangent, hyperbolic sign, 3.14159, yay numbers!

I need someone to save me. I don't know. Mom. Cody. Miss Evans even. Inverse tangent, hyperbolic sign, 3.14159, yay numbers! Inverse tangent, hyperbolic sign, 3.14159, yay numbers!

Wouldn't Miss Evans be happy now? I'm thinking about math before I die. In my opinion, that's really retarded. Inverse tangent, hyperbolic sign, 3.14159, yay numbers!

My dad lets go and I fall to the ground. Thud. My head sort of bounces up as it hits the ground and my sides really hurt. My neck really hurts and it's really hard to breathe. Black dots cloud my vision, and the last thing I see is my cell phone. It's still open. The screen still reads "Zack Martin." Zack's still on the line.

He's still on the line. He's still on the line.

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