December 14, 1969
Winter vacation seemed to fly by in a flurry of science experiments in my basement lab. I spent most days tinkering with chemicals under my homemade fume hood, testing hypotheses and jotting down results in my beat-up notebooks.
It was a welcome escape from the dreariness of school. Down in the basement, I didn't have to face the bullying halls or worse, encounter Mr. Adams and his sneering gaze. Science was the one place I felt truly free to explore my curiosities without judgment.
But all too soon, winter break was over and I found myself reluctantly packing up my lab for another term under Adams' domain. I knew the moment I stepped through those school doors, the torment would begin anew.
Bundling up against the frosty winds, I made my way into school that first morning with lead in my gut. And sure enough, the moment I entered homeroom, I heard Mr. Adams call my name from the front of the class. His beckoning smile promised only trouble, as always. With a deep breath, I steeled myself for whatever fresh horrors he had in store today.
I froze as Mr. Adams called me over, immediately on guard. The gleam in his eyes promised only trouble.
"I have some news I think will make us both happy," he began slyly. When I didn't respond, his grin only widened.
"I've planned to marry your mother on March 20th. Which means, I'll be your new step-daddy," he pronounced with twisted glee.
My stomach dropped. Marry Mom? That monster would be in our home, in our lives forever?
"I'm going to whip you into shape," he continued. "First stop, military school. And your mother, well... she's just wonderful, isn't she?"
Rage flooded me then. "What the hell do you want from me?" I spat, unafraid.
Adams' face reddened. "When I'm done with you, that mouth and delinquent behavior will be gone. You'll do as I say from now on!" he shouted, poking a finger in my chest.
Suddenly he clutched his chest, gasping for air. His fingers scrabbled at the desk as his breathing turned ragged. Then with a sickening thud, he collapsed.
I stared in shock, too scared to even check for a pulse. Then survival instincts kicked in and I bolted, not looking back. I didn't stop running until I reached home, slamming the door behind me, heart pounding. Mr. Adams was dead - but had I killed him? I didn't know, and I wasn't sticking around to find out. From that day on, I was in hiding from the world, in more ways than one.
