Disclaimer: Doesn't belong to me, wouldn't want it to belong to me either, considering the circumstances that drove Katherine Paterson to write the book in the first place. The money would be greatly appreciated, though!

Transformed

Chapter 2 – Life is Hard

"If you limit your choices only to what seems possible or reasonable, you disconnect yourself from what you truly want, and all that is left is a compromise."

"He who strikes the first blow admits he's lost the argument."

18, 17, 16, 15, 14, Jess counted down in his head. What would he do if he only had 5 minutes to live? It was something he'd been asked in the playground a few years ago. He and the rest of the 2nd graders had been kicked off the "fighting hill", on account of them being too small. Bored and bristling with energy; they had had to make do with sitting in a circle beside the bins. Lord, it had been the only free place on the playground, such was the extent of the overcrowding at Lark Creek Elementary.

Someone had started (Jess couldn't recall his name) making up questions to challenge the rest of the circle: a "what if" scenario. Everyone had been asked the same question, given the task to make their answer the most impressive or theatrical. Eventually one of the leaders of the group, Gary Fulcher, asked the 5 minute question. Jess hadn't been able to really answer, so he had simply responded with an asinine joke that only May Belle would find amusing. The other guys had rolled their eyes while muttering "weirdo" before trying to push each other in the bins. What he'd really been thinking; there was no possible way for him to know what he'd do until he was in such a position.

Well, it may not take as long as five minutes, but he'd certainly not have long to live if he was caught now!

He cursed his stupidity for not asking Miss Edmunds the time. He had been a little preoccupied with admiring her... keep focused, Jesse he reprimanded himself. He could only hope that his sisters were in their rooms. Although knowing Brenda and Ellie... they'd most likely be glued to the T.V in the living room. If that was the case, he was done for.

Hesitating at the door, Jess breathed deeply while he turned the doorknob, slower than he ever had before... it wasn't locked, good. Maybe, if he was silent enough to negotiate the creaks in the floorboards, he could make it to his room. He winced at every noise the door made. He hadn't really noticed before but lord, it was loud. It seemed to groan with the strain of Jess pulling it open.

He peered into the living room, scanning for any signs of life. The T.V was off, a surprise, he would have preferred the noise to mask his footsteps. At least there was no sign of Brenda or Ellie. Judging by the popcorn covered carpet, they'd already been and gone.

The room was pitch black apart from a worn out lamp in the corner, glowing defiantly against the overwhelming darkness. It was all very unwelcoming. He closed the door quickly to avoid the groaning, while making sure not to bang it in place.

Okay, he was in... now what? Somehow, Jess needed to make it to his room. He turned from the door and looked straight ahead. He could see the stairs, they had never looked more appealing in his life. Just a little more. Crunch. He looked down... only the popcorn. Jess laughed slightly before he could stop himself, but it was silent enough not to worry him. His confidence began to rise, the house was deadly silent – they had to be sleeping, they just had to.

He felt like James Bond, dodging in between the pieces of popcorn like they were land mines. He was undercover, in enemy territory, trying to escape with a precious artifact: his life. Jess smiled, he had to admit, this was pretty fun, although he could do without the James Bond theme playing in his head.

Increasing his speed, Jess gasped when he stepped on something hard. Lord, the remote control buried under popcorn. The T.V turned on - loud. A familiar commercial rhythmic tune reverberated around the otherwise silent house. Jess froze, afraid his movement might wake up the household further

He stood there, waiting for someone to come running in, whether from the stairs or the kitchen. Jess could feel his heart thumping against his chest, it was almost painful. After a couple of seconds when he heard no movement, he let himself breath again. He was going to kill Ellie the next time he saw her. Every time, she just left that damn contraption on the floor it always, always, ended up planted on his foot... Jess, picked up the remote. It was undamaged, unfortunately. He switched off the T.V. He must've been wearing amour, for he felt like he'd just withstood a bullet shot!

"Hhhhhhhhhhmm, Mummy?" Something stirred in the room, the hair on Jess' neck stood up on end. How hadn't he noticed? Turning towards the noise, it was Joyce Ann, sleeping on the sofa in a fetal position. She was small enough to resemble a pillow. Why had his mother let her sleep here of all places! Hoping and praying to anyone that would listen, he tip toed to the stairs, pretending he hadn't heard anything. Just go back to sleep, Joyce.

"Jesse?"

Lord, she was awake, rubbing her eyes and looking right at him. "Joyce, just go back to sleep, 'kay. Back to sleep."

She giggled at Jesse's desperate expression, obviously thinking it was some sort of game. The faint glow of the lamp was enough for the two to see each other clearly. He waved his arms wildly in a hushing gesture as she opened her mouth.

"Mummy- looking for you." She pointed her chubby forefinger at Jess.

"No, no, don't worry about Mummy," he whispered softly. Jess approached the sofa with ragged breath, trying to appear calm. What would shut her up... ah, he knew!

"Just, go to sleep for Mummy, okay, just sleep and... you'll get a – a nice present in the morning."

"A present?" Joyce repeated, eyes blaring with glee. He had her!

"Yes, but only if you go to sleep, 'kay." It was all going so well until he finished with, "Will you do that for me?"

Oh Lord, terrible choice of words. He could already see the wheels turning in that demented little head of hers as she mouthed his last two words.

Joyce Ann opened her mouth, he tried to silence her with his hand... but he was too late.

"Mummmy, Jesse home!" she yelled at the kitchen. Jess heard a sudden and downright dastardly movement from the kitchen, great, he was in for it now. He sat on the sofa with Joyce, resigned, giving her the remote, which she promptly began to chew on. As her teeth bashed on the remote, the television began rapidly switching channels before settling on a random music channel. It was already in the middle of the song "Highway to hell"... how appropriate.

"You, know," Jess said, conversationally to Joyce Ann, "sometimes, I really hate you". She smiled at her brother with an innocent expression.

"You don't fool me, Joyc-"

"Jesse!" His mother came rushing in, fanfare and all; she reached down to smother him in a hug. He wished he'd taken a deeper breath, Joyce Ann giggling in the background only added to his discomfort. She eventually let go, judging by his moist shirt, she'd been crying into his shoulder. He really needed those damn waterproofs!

His Dad joined the "party", police officer in toe. In the desperation to get to his room he'd forgotten all about the police car. He suddenly felt worse, if that were possible. Judging by his father's expression, he had some explaining to do. His mother's tear stained appearance changed ominously and without warning into anger. She took deep breaths, threatening to erupt at any second, even Joyce Ann was suitable timid.

"Where. On. Earth. Have. You. Been!" she shuddered after every word, as if she was desperately trying to remain in control of her rage. Lord, he needed to think of something quick!

"You better have a good explanation," his father spoke civilly, any outsider might think he was simply discussing the weather but Jess knew this was much worse. His father seemed to reside in a perpetual state of shouting, it was how he got his point across. Whenever he lowered his voice, it was the perfect indication that matters were deadly serious. Jess had only encountered this side of his father twice... when Brenda had been suspended from school, and later when she had brought a boyfriend over. There was something infuriatingly irritating about it, the perfect way to make the receiver feel in the wrong. It was much harder to argue with a cordial, civil and upstanding gentleman, than a foul mouthed, high decibel wielding father. His Dad doubled back to lock the door, Jess thought he merely wanted to lock him in.

"Aaahhh, so this is the infamous, Jess Aarons. I've heard so much about you." The police officer sat himself down on the chair opposite Jess, who had almost forgotten he was even in the room. Jess had never seen anyone so at ease in another man's home, although he guessed that that went with the territory.

"Just like I said, Mrs Aarons, they usually turn up in the end." He leaned forward, hands locked together in front of him, "I'm officer Harvey, by the way." He bowed his head towards Jess, although the gesture was partially blocked by Mrs Aarons domineering form, which remained hovering over the sitting Jess.

Officer Harvey sighed, he'd seen this situation countless times. Kid stays out, parents get worried; end result was usually an over reaction. It all breed from an inability to admit that your kids were growing up... and leaving you behind. The officer snorted, he'd went through it, and while he didn't claim to be a psychologist, he'd always had a knack for reading people. About the only thing he got the chance to read in his line of work.

Officer Harvey worked a hand over his stubble, he'd already informed the parents of the procedures. "Best let me handle this... just the formalities of course," he hastily added.

"We'll be in the kitchen," Mr Aarons said, he didn't look too happy about it, but he obviously didn't want to seem anything but a law abiding citizen; Harvey had seen his type before. Mrs Aarons was substantially more reluctant to leave, but after a little coaxing from her husband, she picked up Joyce Ann and...

"Nothing to worry about. You rung us up, so I need to do my job. A simple statement from this man and then I'll be out your hair, nae bother," Harvey interjected with a colloquial tongue, reading Mrs Aaron's thoughts. She gave one last fleeting glance to Jess, before she joined her husband in the kitchen.

"Aaaahhhh, now the grown ups have left, we can talk in peace." Harvey stretched his arms theatrically; yawning as he spoke. Jess remained silent, wary... there was something about this man. He seemed a bit too sure of himself, arrogant. It was a trait that Jess disliked vehemently.

"Now, what's this story about you running from school?"

"Stay out of trouble, Mr Aarons. Oh and watch out for your parents, if looks could kill. Your parents already filed for a missing person, I don't want murder as well!" Officer Harvey laughed sardonically.

Jess grimaced as he shook the police officer's hand, or rather the police officer shook his. Mr Aarons, Jess shook his head, it sounded too much like his father to sound anything but disturbing. Still, Jess had grown used to bottling up his emotions over the years. Without changing his neutral face expression, even for an instant, he waved politely at the police officer as he got into his car and left. Lord, he's the lucky one.

Jess knew his Dad had been waiting until Officer Harvey had left to begin the "festivities". It had been the same when Brenda had brought a boy over, for the first and only time. His father had acted dignified enough, with a suitable amount of decorum throughout the evening. The family had had a fairly pleasant and certainly normal meal. When said boy had left...well, Jess had been perceptive enough to know he was in "no mans land"; retreating to milk Miss Bessie early. The walls hadn't been enough to contain his father's bellows or Brenda's screams. He had seen, or rather heard, a side of his father that he had never imagined was there. It was his darker half, the cruel half. Jess shivered despite himself. He had never known what was the problem with the boy. He had never dared to ask. Jess had almost felt sorry for Brenda, even though he knew she wouldn't show any in return. And now it was his turn. Or at least it had seemed to have been his turn for the last 3 years. Jess laughed humorlessly. It had been his turn since the day he was born.

The police officer, for his part, seemed much more understanding. Although he had initially perceived him as arrogant, Jess concluded that the officer was just experienced to the point of complacency. Jess might have even grown to like him... if not for the circumstance he was currently drowning in. He had said his first name was, Matt, but Jess suspected it was merely a ploy to make him feel comfortable.

Matt had merely lectured Jess on the number of people currently missing, whilst reaffirming the dangers that lurked in the night. He had even given him a leaflet about missing people. The officer had seemed bored by the whole affair, as if this was a regular occurrence in his life. Jess could only remember small fragments such as "a person must be absent for 72 hours before being legally classed as missing". Trying to delay the inevitable, he looked at the leaflet:

By the end of 2005, there were 109,531 active missing person records according to the US Department of Justice. Children under the age of 18 account for 58,081 (53.03) of the records and 11,868 (10.84) were for young adults between the ages of 18 and 20.

During 2005, 834,536 entries were made into the National Crime Information Center's missing person file, which was an increase of 0.51 from the 830,325 entered in 2004 . Missing Person records that were cleared or canceled during the same period totaled 844,838. The reasons for these removals include: a law enforcement agency located the subject, the individual returned home, or the record had to be removed by the entering agency due to a determination that the record is invalid

He hadn't really been paying attention, although in his defense, having the lecture interrupted multiple times by his father asking the officer if he'd like anything – while glaring threateningly at Jess, would be enough to make even Janice Avery quake in her sandals.

He crunched the leaflet into his pocket, remembering the dubious hole that had lost him his lunch money on numerous occasions; decided to carry it in his fist instead. Lord, if he waited any longer his father would be liable to drag him to the Creek and drown him, just like in one of Brenda's stories. He saluted the stars as he walked to the main door, resigned to his fate. He imagined criminals on death row felt similar sensations as they walked to their deaths.

"It's 2am on a school night, Jesse Oliver Aarons. What do you call this?!" And so the tirade began. Jess braced himself. His parents didn't even have the courtesy to let him close the door. Thinking of the courage Rodney had shown. Jess stared back at his father. Head held high.

"Well, are you going to answer me, where were you?" His mother obviously not content with watching from the sidelines, sat the sleeping Joyce Ann on the sofa before taking her turn.

"I-We, were worried sick. Where were you! May Belle came running home, after she was left alone on the bus, no thanks to you. Where were you! God, we even called the police. You better have a good-" she stormed up closer to Jess and suddenly smelt something. Taking another sniff, she realized it was from Jess. Getting close enough, she grabbed Jesse's jacket – and then dropped it just as quickly...as if it burned her.

"Is that..." she took a deep breath, obviously thoroughly appalled, "Is that...alcohol?" her voice increased ten decibels every syllable. Jess heard delighted gasps from the stairs. Already knowing who the perpetrators where, he looked around his mum to see Brenda and Ellie crouched down on the top step, waving mockingly at him. The staircase blocked them from the view of Mum and Dad. They obviously had come to see the show. Conveniently not hearing the gasps, his father said one word, as if that was all he could do in his current state,

"I would expect the courtesy of you actually paying attention for once, Jess. Explain?"

Lord, when his father was the quieter of his parents he knew he was in trouble.

Jess gulped nervously, he was tired and why did his head feel so heavy? Knowing there was no way out he began, stuttering. Lord, he hated being put on the spot like this.

"Emmmm, I was, eh, going to this-"

"Speak properly," his father rebuked. Feeling like he'd suddenly been cut down a few feet, Jess tried to regain the ability to speak.

"I was with a friend."

"What friend?"

"Hoa- Scott," he amended.

His mother looked unconvinced. "I've never heard or seen any – Scott before. Why do you never bring him over? Doesn't seem like much of a friend," she finished her sentence there, although Jess knew what was left unsaid. As if you have any friends, really.

"I've only been friends with him for a little while."

She nodded, signaling for him to continue but he knew she didn't believe him. His father sat down on the sofa beside the "sleeping" Joyce Ann. He seemed to be trying to stare a hole through Jess.

"Well, he was taking me to see Mr Gotenburg, my P.E teacher, about joining the school racing team-"

"Why couldn't you do that in school, Jesse? And the school racing team, that hardly seems like something you'd be interested in", his mother interrupted... would he ever get to finish a sentence?

"Er, he doesn't work on, on Thursdays, so, so I, we decided-"

"Decided you'd just walk out of school, forget about your sisters?"

"No, I-"

"Where does this... Gotenburg live?"

"Somewhere in town." This seemed like the wrong thing to say. His father snorted derisively, shaking his head.

"You expect me to believe that you walked into town, that's miles away – I'm warning you, Jess. Stop lying to me." Brenda and Ellie chorused "lies, lies" from their position on the stairs.

"Would you two go to bed!" his father snapped at them. He was too distracted with Jess to enforce this, however, so they remained. He turned back to Jess, impatient.

"I've got work tomorrow, Jess. Yes, I have to provide for this family. Enough of these lies, the truth. Be a man... for once."

"I'm not lying," Jess said stubbornly. His father's words stung, piercing his army. He was getting angry, at himself, his parents – he could feel himself begin to shake.

"Not lying, not lying he says. Do you know what you've put your mother through? We thought you'd been kidnapped, we phoned the police, caused a fuss. Instead, we find you, stinking of booze, skipping school, coming home in the middle of the night."

"It isn't like tha-"

"Are you trying to embarrass me, are you trying to embarrass this family?"

"No, Dad. I – I'm sorry, I - "

"Do you know how this looks on this family, how it looks on me! I've dragged this families name from the dirt after... and you're just going to throw it all away... becoming some, some hooligan! After all I've done, the work I've put in, this, this is how you repay me. Are you trying to humiliate me Jess?" He pointed at the sofa Joyce Ann was sleeping on, "You see this. This costs money."

It always came back to that, the families image. No, that was incorrect, it was his father's image. He was so obsessed with work, image, friends – Jess didn't care. He wanted none of it. He felt himself begin to snap.

"Jess, what is happening to you?" his mother pleaded, "Your grades are falling, your teachers say you're not putting in any effort, you're falling behind on your chores; you spend hours doing God knows what in your room, Jesse, just like... dear, talk to us", those last few words struck a nerve.

"That's exactly it. You never listen... I've tried, lord, I've tried, but it's either Brenda this, or Joyce Ann that, you never have any time for me. You act like you know me, like you understand, well, you don't know, you don't understand. I'm not Adam, no matter how much you wish I was or wasn't, I just..." he couldn't finish, part of him hadn't even meant to go that far.

Far from being surprised by Jesse's outburst, it seemed to push his father to new heights of anger. "Well, out with if then, tell us, the boy who thinks he's above this family."

"I'm trying, its just it's hard."

"It's hard, It's hard," his father echoed with disgust. "Is it hard explaining why you've come in drunk, into my house, stinking of booze?"

He had no right to lecture him about drink, considering the amount of times he'd heard him stumble through the door in the middle of the night.

"Life is hard, Jess. The sooner you realize it the better. If you want to survive in this world, if you want to be a success, then you need to be hard. We don't have the advantages others do, they look down on us, the inferior. No matter how hard you work, you'll have to work twice as hard as the next guy to get recognized. None of this living in the clouds - nonsense. This fantasy – you are not a kid anymore Jess, you need to grow up and fast. You know what..." Mr Aarons paced the walls of the living room, Jess had never seen his father talk like that, angry yes, but not like that. It was like he'd been a caged animal for years, starving on scraps, only now finally unleashed.

"I've let this go on long enough. You running around, head in the clouds – that isn't what a real man is supposed to be, damn it. I tried to be reasonable, I tried be fair. Well, now I'm going to punish this out of you. Summer vacation, forget about it. I'm sending you to your Aunts to work for her."

Even Brenda and Ellie had the decency to be shocked, but his father wasn't done,

"If I ever see you writing in that stupid notebook again..." he let the warning linger. The number of possibilities flooded through the air. Better to have someone guessing than name their fate. His father seemed drained of energy, he leaned against the wall, disrupting the portraits of fake smiles and manufactured happy times.

His mother looked pointedly at Joyce Ann as she spoke, slowly,

"I want you to go to your room now, Jess. And just think, just think about the example you're setting for May Belle and Joyce Ann, I -"

"I don't care about them!"

His mother slapped him. Hard. Jess stepped back in shock, ears ringing. He could barely hear Brenda and Ellie's shocked gasps; a mixture of surprise and jubilation. His Dad, for his part, looked as shocked as Jess. The commotion was even enough to wake up Joyce Ann, who had been sleeping on the sofa – or at least pretending to sleep. She began to wail softly at the night

"It's late," the patriarch of the family announced to the house, aware that Brenda and Ellie were listening in. He seemed so much older to Jess now. Lines very evident in his forehead, he seemed tired, weak.

He turned to Jess. "Tomorrow, when I get back, we will discuss the punishments – alone". His father whispered the last word, only to Jess...who, if he had looked up would have almost been able to read the regret in his eyes.

"And would someone turn that damn T.V off," he bellowed in one final outburst; before walking over to the sofa in a weak attempt to help his wife calm Joyce Ann.

Jess stood there, still in shock, now demoted to an extra, once again. His ears ringing increased with every footstep his father took. He felt his cheek. It burned... in more ways than one. He could feel tears forming in his eyes. He needed to get out of here! Rushing for the stairs he took them two at a time. Jess crossed paths with the "deadly duo".

"I always had you as an idiot, Jesse(she almost spat the name). But a lier, too - oh look, he's almost crying!" Brenda began, shrieking with glee.

"Such a poor, poor example, isn't he... as if anyone would want to be friends with you. You're weird." Ellie added in a supporting role.

"Yeah, that's your real name, Jesse. Weirdo." They snickered at their own "wit".

Jess did not dignify their jabs with a response. He stormed forward, making them move out the way. He'd been through worse today... so why did every word still sting? He kept his head down, his hands shaking in bailed fists. Lord, this day had to end at some point, didn't it? Their voices followed him mockingly, Brenda daringly shouted loudly, "imaginary friends don't count, weirdo".

Finally, he reached his door. Lord, it was jammed again. Was everything broken in this house? He kicked it in frustration, before shaking the doorknob like a madman. The door finally relinquished its death grip on the frame, he was invited into a darkened room. He made sure to give the door a light kick on the way in... just to remind it who was boss. Gasping with relief he almost fell through as he closed it. Leaning on the door for support. Finally alone, Jess let go of his restraints, the tears began to fall, at last.

"Je-Jess?" May Belle, the dumb kid. He wiped his eyes surreptitiously. He would not cry in front of her. He put his mask on, locking his other self away. Jess sought out May Belle in the darkness.

"Why are you still up, I know you're still afraid of the dark," he snapped angrily and to the point, like his father.

"Am not afraid!" she bit back, although Jess could see her shivering under the covers.

"I'm, he corrected crossly. Why couldn't he stop picking on her?

He watched her shrink two sizes as she responded, fear evident in her voice,"You weren't here, So, I, I waited."

Ah, he remembered. Jess usually drew her something before she went to sleep. They were mostly just humorous little sketches. He'd have to explain the joke for her, but she laughed like an enraptured audience.

Jess paused for a moment, thinking, then he walked past her bed to his own, remembering his father's words. There would be no drawing tonight. He collapsed onto his bed, shrugging off his back pack, not bothering to change.

Jess stared at his ceiling, despite the darkness, he could picture his works that covered his small part of the bedroom. He had committed them to memory long ago. He vividly remembered drawing everyone of them. The journeys each drawing had taken him. Overcome with a sudden uncontrollable rage, he violently tore at them. Releasing a growl from the very essence of his soul as he destroyed them. As he destroyed his life.

Minutes later, he lay his head back on the pillow, panting for breath. Shreds of his life floated around him, floating down to the floor and through the crevice of his bed. Buried, never to be seen again. He looked up at his ceiling again. It was not only dark now... but empty. Turning and engulfing his face in his pillow, he could still hear, faintly, the muffled cries of May Belle. His old life. He knew what she wanted. Her night light was just out of her reach... and she was terrified of the dark. A part of him cried out. His old self. Help her. Go to her. Turn it on. Bring in the light.

He sat still until even May Belle's whimpers faded away. It was just like his father said. In this life... you have to be hard. As he slept, there was only darkness.

26th June 2008

Birrp birrip birrity, for so long that had been his alarm clock, the signal for the day. He stretched and peeked out of his window, which he hadn't bothered closing last night. He felt a fresh stab of anger hit him as he watched his father "retreat" - without even a glance or word in his direction. The final straw.

If his father wanted hard; he'd give it to him in abundance.

Jess nodded to himself in reassurance. He'd made his decision. He grabbed his beleaguered bag; contents strewn like mines across the carpet. He discarded all unnecessary possessions from his bag – better to travel light. He noticed his notebook was buried under the debris from his destruction last night. He smiled apologetically while picking it up. His notebook. The most prized possession he had at his disposal. Ironically, it was from his father. Jess recalled all the present disasters he'd suffered over the years. Lord, half the stuff his father bought him ended up not working!

Every year his father had become more and more determined to find a successful gift; getting bigger and more expensive as the years went on – but never once asking Jess what he wanted. Last year, his father had gotten him an electric car racing set. His father had grown more and more anxious as the week to his birthday began. He had even come home from work early and milked Miss Bessie for Jess. He recalled walking past the hut, sure he could hear his father cursing about " missing parts". His Dad had one of those triumphant "I'm a man" twinkles in his eyes as Jess had opened the present.

When the first car Jess tried flew off the track wildly smacking Joyce Ann right between the eyes. His father's eyes became downbeat and melancholy. Jess had tried to smile meekly and make the thing work. For his father more than him. Well, his face had began to hurt after more and more cars flew every-which-way so he had avoided his father's eyes for the rest of the day.

Last Christmas, his father had bought the cheapest thing he could find, forfeiting his own little game. A notebook. Jess had been unable to contain his excitement at the gift. Which went a long way to Brenda and Ellie dubbing him " weirdo".

Jess stroked the spine of his notebook soothingly, muttering soothing words. Coming to his senses, he ungracefully threw the book into his bag, while looking hastily around him flushing with embarrassment. Maybe Brenda and Ellie weren't far wrong!

Deciding it was best to move quickly, he picked up a torn piece of paper; leaving a message on his bed. It was nothing spectacular, nothing melodramatic; just a simple, concise statement of his intent: to leave.

Jess checked his bank on the desk next to his bed, more out of hope than expectation. He shook it, hearing very few jingles.

"Well, at least I have enough money to last me the rest of my life, unless I buy something". Throwing the bank, and what little money it contained, into his bag, he zipped it up and strapped it onto his shoulders. He was ready. Yet there was something stopping him.

Jess looked at the bed across from his own. The covers lay in a mangled heap and the only identification of the the owner was a hand, hanging over the edge. She was quite an "aggressive" sleeper. A lot like him. Jess felt like he owed her something, some small token of gratitude. Sucking up his courage, he approached the bed.

"May Belle," Jess whispered while shaking the bed lightly. A muffled grunt was the only response he got. Smiling to himself slightly, he lifted the covers to reveal her face. May Belle immediately shielded her eyes with her hands.

"Momma, it can't be time-"

"It's Jess," he interrupted. She immediately moved her arms to confirm it was him.

"Oh, it's you."

Jess winced, he had expected something like that. "May Belle, listen, about last night... well, I was a bit of a prat."

"You wus worse, you were Janice Avery bad". He opened his mouth to protest. Lord, Janice Avery bad?

But he remembered why he was there. "Yeah, I suppose I was," he laughed uneasily.

"Yeah, yeah, you was like Miss Bessie's po-"

"Now what a minute, I wasn't that-" but May Belle was too busy laughing to hear. Damn it, he laughed a little as well. After they'd regained their composure, a slight tinge of happiness lifted the air between them.

"I'm... sorry, really, about last night," he said it solemnly, a stark contrast to the laughter before. May Belle grinned back at him, a portrait of missing teeth shaped her mouth.

"It's okay," May Belle said brightly. Lord, she'd forgiven him just like that. She was amazing.

He wanted to say something to her then. How he was sorry he'd picked on her over the years. How he appreciated her taking his side. How he was proud she hadn't turned into another Brenda and Ellie – at least yet, anyway. She wasn't that bad after all. It wasn't something he could put in words, however. He satiated himself with simply smiling at her. "Get some sleep before school."

"What's that." She finally noticed his bag. "It isn't school time yet, where you going?"

"Oh nothing, just throwing out some old junk - chores." He managed not to choke on his words, to his relief.

He wrinkled her hair slightly, to which she complained weakly. Feeling that he'd lingered a little too long, he left; quiet as a mouse. As Jess reached the door he heard May Belle say - in between yawns - sleepily,

"See you... soon ... Jess."

He didn't answer as he closed the door tight.

Jess made no qualms about being loud as he descended the stairs, there was no May Belle to worry about now. Why should he tip toe like some criminal? They were the criminals, not him. He nodded his head quickly in reassurance. As he walked through the living room to the door. He was sorely tempted to give the T.V, Brenda and Ellie's life support, a "goodbye kick". He smiled pettily at the saliva covered remote, courtesy of Joyce Ann. "The deadly duo" would certainly not be happy.

Jess breathed in the beautiful morning air as he closed the door... for good. Jess had suspected he might feel a little hesitation at such a symbolic gesture, but it was the complete opposite. He felt like he'd just wiped something terrible unpleasant off his shoe. He closed his eyes and let the sun's rays take him. He was free. Free from it all. From his father's coldness to Brenda and Ellie being, well, Brenda and Ellie. He strapped his bag tighter as he straightened his back, feeling like he'd suddenly offloaded a great weight. Maybe he had.

He ran... not because he was scared, but because – he looked into the distance. Not just the short distance to the Perkins place, either. No, he looked beyond, further than ever before. There was so much. He couldn't possible reach it all if he merely... walked. He jumped over the fence that marked Miss Bessie's boundaries. He felt a sudden empathy with the old girl. She was imprisoned, much like he'd been before. The field between his house and the bus stop suddenly felt much bigger. Jess had a wild thought that if he didn't reach the main road as quickly as possible he'd wake up to find himself locked in his room.

The enticement of freedom and the sharp morning air helped him increase his stride. I'll make it. You just watch Dad, I'll do it. He repeated the mantra in his mind as he reached the Perkins place and thus the adjoining main road. He was faced with his first major decision, left or right. Grinning at the absurdity of it, and the fact that he was completely independent of any outside influences. He choose on a whim; to spite authoritarians everywhere, left. He was faced with what seemed like an endless road. Spiraling off into any and every direction. Jess gulped in nervous anticipation, almost jumping with excitement. "Here we go" and... he was off!

"Pray that your loneliness may spur you into finding something to live for, great enough to die for."

Thanks for the reviews Sharkie and Caellach Tiger Eye...