With tears pouring from my eyes, I ran out the house covering my face with my hands. As soon as I burst out the door, I ran into Angela making her fall off the porch and onto the grass. But that that didnt stop me, it only slowed me down. I heard her cursing me good as I booked it down the street.

When my lungs finally started to burn, I stopped and collapsed onto the road. After I caught my breath, I took a look at my surroundings. Great. . . the West side. I sighed and tried to pull myself up. It took me a few tries, but I got up eventually.

As I stood still in the middle of the road I thought about everything that's happened.

'Dallas is pro'ly plannin' ta kill me. That bastard dad of mine's pro'ly gonna come after me for fuckin' up his deal with those druggies, had me kicked out, convinced both Curly and Ma I ain't no good. I most likely got the Curtis gang comin' after me. I might have my own gang goin' after me - 'cause Dallas is like that. I'm deep, deep, deep in Soc territory. And I have no place to go. And it's definately not helpping that i'm waaaay underweight and completely out of energy with no weapon.'

I sigh again.

With a limp in my walk, I wandered the well-paved, freshly painted streets until I find some huge park - it had to be at least three times bigger than the park down by Greaser territory. I slowly layed myself down on one of the benches.

'I guess this is fine to sleep for the night.' I think to myself. 'I just hope I wake up 'fore the Socs start headin' out in the mornin.'

A few tears started falling from my eyes - this is the point where the full weight of what's happened finally crashed down on me.

"Why?" I whisper over and over again, "Why? Why? Why? Why?"

I continue to wallow in self-pitty like a pathetic little kid until I pass out.

I'm woken up when some guy pushed me off the bench I was sleeping on. I groaned and rolled onto my back, sheilding my eyes from the sunlight.

"A-Are you okay, Greaser?" Dammit, a Soc found me.

Wait. . . He asked if I was okay. . .

I opened my eyes and allowed them to adjust to the sun. As I started to get used to the light, I saw that there wasn't just one, but four Socs gathered around me. Were they. . . Were they concerned for me?

"Hey! Are you alright, Grease?"

"U-Uh." I stutter, "I-I don't. . . really. . . No, I'm fine." Right then, my stomach decided to twist up into a knot making me curl up and cringe. I tried to hold back the scream coming from the back of my throte, but i only managed to stop fragments from coming up.

The group of Socs helpped to my feet. "We can't take you home with us," The one with the blue tennis club shirt said, "But we'll take you back to the east side if y-"

"No! No! No!" I blurt out before I could stop myself. I threw my hand over my mouth and hung my head down low. ". . . I mean. . . No, just, take me to the hospital."

They all stared at me. Tennis boy put his arm on my shoulder. "Why're ya' here anyway? Is there somethin' goin' down on the East side or somethin'?"

"No, just. . ." I shake my head. "It's family problems, okay?" I finally admitted. "First my mental problems get worse, then my fucking bastard dad comes back and tortures me again, he gets me hospitalized, tries to sell me to some random druggies, turns the rest of my family against me, then has me kicked out! Now I got the Curtis gang and my gang coming after me and I-I. . . I just can't take it anymore!"

I put my face into my hands as I felt the familier stinging in my eyes.

"I. . ." Tennis boy licked his lips and furrowed his eyebrows. "I dun'no. . . how to help you, guy. . . I-I'm sorry but. . . you'r on your own."

And with that said, Tennis boy and the rest of the socs walked off.

"You'r on your own."

"On my own. . . I. . . I always seem to be on my own, don't I?"

Always on your own. It is because of how unlikable you are.

"Right. . ."

Unlikable; liked by noone.

"Yes. . ."

A bitter unlikable loner who's passing shall not be mourned.

"Not be mourned."

Shall. Not. Be. Mourned.

"Yes. . . He'll never be mourned!"

. . . Wait, what?

"You'r right, noone will ever miss that bastard! That's why I should!" My voice started to have a phsycotic edge to it as it decreased in volume, making me sound all the more sinister.

Wait!

"That's why I should. . ."

We're talking about you here!

"I'll KILL him!"

Okay, you had your big stupid idea for the time being. Now why don't you pass out on the bench again and we'll call it a day?

"This. . . Yeah! This is the only way! This is the only way I can keep him from touching Angela, from touching CURLY!"

Stop this! Stop this right now! You will listen to me this instant!

"Nothing can stop me now, nothing. . . nobody."

I just had to wait until night comes.

This is it, I'm really going to do this, I thought.

I allowed myself to smirk just thinking of all the blood that's gonna splatter all over the walls, the huge burden I've been carrying finally released, the riddence of worry weighing down my heart from about such terrible things happening to my siblings, the absense of fear I've allowed to influence my beheivior for so long. Everything that's plagued me since my birth, ending with one simple act. . .

And it starts at the tip of this rusty knife.

This event feels so special to me that I named it; The Rapture. Yes, I got that idea from the Bible. For those of you who're not familier with The Rapture, it's the day that the true believers of the Christian religion are all sent to heaven, regardless if they died or not, and all the non-believers are left on earth where the holy war will take place. I felt like this name fit because by killing my father, I will be sent to my (personal) eternal peace - my paradise, my narvana - while my dad will lie in the midst of destruction - dead and cold and alone with a bloody, unrecognizable face.

Timothy Shephard, this is my last warning! Now, as your elder, I order you to put the knife away and sleep on the park bench!

"My elder? Really GLaDOS? You manifested in my head no more than a month and a half ago. I'm your elder."

I-uh-well. . .Well as your intulectual superior, you must do as I say or you will be punished.

"How're ya gonna do that? You'r just a voice in my head."

. . .

I laugh out loud, hysterically. "Oh what? Ya' got nothin' to say for a change? You can't hold yer own now that I'm actually trying to talk back to you? Pathetic!" I heard her growl and mutter a curse.

Ignoring the uncomfortable glances I got from some middle class couple taking a walk on the sidewalk on the opposite side of the street, I hold the sharp, rusty knife gentally with both hands onto my chest, as if it were my own child. I even stroked its side and gave it a small kiss for good measure.

I think I'll name it too. . . Justice. . .

My smile got wider, bared more teeth. I ran the thought through my mind again. My baby; Justice Bringer Shephard.

I lick my lips. Almost there.

I break out into a run when I round the corner to my street. This is it!

As soon as my foot touched the front porch, I threw open the door and stopped myself mid-stride. I waited to see if anyone responded to the noise. After a good half-minute, I chuckled under my breath. Noone's home. Perfect!

I made my way to my parent's room and hid behind their dresser.

I just have to wait. . .

You've lost it. . .

Finally. Finally! He's here! He's here!

I watched as he pulled something out from under the bed. A shoebox. He sat on the bed with the box on his lap. He pulled off the lid and snatched something out of it. It was a short, thick book - a photo album.

Aw, he wants to enjoy the moments of his life looking at the memories of the family he destroyed!

I gave the tip of Justice a lick, then I came out of my hiding place.

He looked up when he realized he wasn't alone, jumpping in surprise. "Tim!" He said, visibley panicking, "What'er ya' doin' here?"

"I'm. . . looking for blood. Got any to spare, Dad?" I let out a low laugh, it almost seemed demonic.

"W-Wha?" He stood up quickly as I began to close in on him.

"Noone's gonna miss you when you die. You shall not be mourned, just like she said. All the things you put this family through - all the things you put me through! You're gonna pay. . . with your life!"

"N-No! No! Timmy ya' got it all wrong! I never-"

"You never what, exactly? Huh? You never stopped paying attention to me when I was a kid? You never struck my mother? You never violated me? Huh? O-Or did you never try to sell me to a bunch of crack heads as some slave? HUH?" I lick my lips. "'Cause anyone can just say something never happened, but that doesn't make it true. For example, I can say that I wasn't anywhere near the east side when you were found dead. I can say I spent two entire days moping for having lost the love of my family for good. Specially since noone we know's seen me for the time being!"

He was speechless. He attempted to croak out some words as he continued to draw distance between me and him. Too bad though, his back made contact with the wall at the far end of the room. No escape.

I suddenly grew imaptient, my expression turned dark. "Enough of this, I want to see your blood, now!"

"Tim wait!"

"Never! You'll never hurt me or my family ever again!" With a quick motion I slit his throte.

He fell back, gasping, holding his neck together in attempt to survive, but we both know that wasn't happening.

I laughed as I watched the blood flood from his throte and mouth and almost keeled over in hystarics when he started squirming right before he took his final breath.

. . .You shouldn't have done that. . .

"Tim!" My mother's voice.

I turned around to look at her, trying to control my laughter to listen to what she has to say. "Yeah Ma?"

"Y-You. . . you!. . . What have you done?"

I chuckled and turned back toward him to explain to her what I did, and that's when I saw it. How? How did I not see this? What was going on?

"B-But I-I. . . He!. . . When did I. . . ?" I looked at the knife in my hand, then dropped it as if it carried the plague. "I. . . I' m didn't mean. . ."

"Angela!" Mom called out to my sister, "Angela sweetie, call 911! Hurry!" She then pulled out a gun from her back pocket.

I put my hands up, not because she had a gun, but because I was so shocked that she'd pull one on me

"Y-You'r gonna get locked up fer a real long time. M-Maybe even get the chair!"

I didn't say anything to argue with her, she was right. I killed him in cold blood, and I didn't even realize that. . . ! I-I didn't even realize. . .

But, there was one thing I had to know before they take me in. "Mom-"

"Don't you pull anything, boy!"

"I-I'm not, I just. . . I just wanted to know. . . two days ago, why did you side with dad?"

"Because!. . . I-I found that damned weed in yer closet! I-I can't stick up for you any more if you'r gonna be a real hood, and real no-good hard ass! There's no way in hell i'm gonna try with you anymore if you'r gonna end up worse than your damn father anyway!"

I stared at her. . . Worse than my own father?

I didn't say anything for the remainder of that night, not when I had my face slammed on the floor, not when I got driven to the big house, not when I cracked my head into the bed frame when they threw me into my holding cell.

Three days passed before they put me in front of the judge.

The jury was a bunch of Socs and middle-classers, so even if I did try to justify my actions, I'd be going down.

We all had stood up when the judge walked, then sat. "The first case of the day is the state versus Timothy Shephard for murder." The balif said.

The room was quiet, too quiet for my liking. To block out the loud silence in the room, I let out a low meniecal laugh that only a few people around me could hear, and when they did, they fixed their eyes on me and shrunk back in their seats. Even the guy "defending" me scooted away.

"Timothy Shephard, how do you plead?" The judge asked.

I couldn't stop myself from smiling.

How do I plead? Really? Is this dumbass serious? I chuckled darkly for the whole room to hear, but not too loud though, I still had a headache from the night I got thrown in holding. "Insanity. . . your honor." That voice I made, it sounded. . . more demonic than the laugh I had that day. It even caused the guards to tense up.

I took a look around the room. Ah! I thought, That middle-class couple'sin the jury! Perfect! I smiled at them making the girl wrap her arms around her boyfriend's arm.

Perfect. . .

The time had finally come for my fate to be decided.

The guy sitting at the end of the jury stood up with a peice of paper. "In the case of Timothy Shephard versus the state of Oklahoma, we find Timothy Shephard. . ."

Oh great, he's trying to be dramatic. I roll my eyes and yell, "Hurry up, Jackass!"

A few people laugh.

The guys clears his throte and tries again. "We find Timothy Shephard guilty of all accounts."

Finally!

The juddge spoke. "By the power invested in me, I sentance you, Timothy Shephard, to serve life in the Oklahoma Institution for the Criminally Insane." He bangged his gabble, making it final.

As I was escorted out of the room, I noticed my "family" standing in one of the rows. I didn't bother looking at Angela or Mom, I looked directly at that huge lump of Curly hair. His glaring eyes peircing through to my soul, I had to look away. I didn't pull my head back up until the door to the court room had shut behind us.

Maybe I was so sure of what I was doing that I didn't even notice? I thought, I was so deep in the feeling of being close to being free, I hadn't even realized it.

Your mind was hallucinating, it made you think you knew what you were doing.

Exactly.

It was even beyond my comprehension. I hadn't even realize it. I heard her chuckle, and I chuckled as well.

"After all," I say out loud after me and my escorts were outside, about to board the bus that'll take me to the loony house. A crooked smile made its way onto my face and I licked my lips "Curly looked just ike him."

Sincerly,
Tim Shaphard

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