More than the sum of my parts chapter 1
The sun cast long shadows across the cracked pavement as Reese trudged down the street, his hands jammed deep into the pockets of his worn-out jeans. The weight of the world seemed to press down on his shoulders, a familiar burden that had grown heavier with each passing year. He kicked at a loose stone, watching it skitter away into the gutter, and felt a flicker of satisfaction at the small act of defiance.
Reese's life had been a series of missed opportunities and squandered chances, each one a nail in the coffin of his potential. Miss Thompson, the guidance counsellor who had once believed in him, now regarded him with thinly veiled disdain. Her once-hopeful eyes had grown cold, and Reese could feel the disappointment radiating from her like a palpable force.
He had been shuffled from one program to another, each one more demeaning than the last. The construction program for troubled boys was the latest in a long line of attempts to reform him, a futile effort to Mold him into something he was not. The burly tradies he worked alongside were oblivious to his struggles, their crude jokes and boisterous laughter echoing in his ears as he laboured in silence.
At home, things were no better. Lois, his mother, had long since given up on him. Her eyes, once filled with love and concern, now held only frustration and regret. Reese knew he was a disappointment to her, a constant reminder of the chaos he had brought into her life. His father, Hal, was no help either, his laid-back demeanour a poor substitute for the guidance Reese so desperately needed.
The only solace Reese found was in the rare moments of camaraderie with his brothers, Malcolm and Dewey. Despite the animosity that often simmered between them, there was an unspoken bond that held them together. They were all victims of their circumstances, trapped in a world that seemed determined to crush their spirits.
As Reese walked, he thought about the future, or rather, the lack of one. The programs he was forced into offered no real prospects, just a dead-end path that seemed to stretch out endlessly before him. He wanted more than this, more than the life that had been thrust upon him, but he didn't know how to break free.
The sound of laughter drew his attention, and he glanced up to see a group of boys from the construction program gathered around a makeshift fire. Their faces were illuminated by the flickering flames, their voices raised in a chorus of crude jokes and raucous laughter. Reese hesitated, torn between joining them and continuing on his solitary path.
He knew he didn't belong with them, but the allure of companionship, however fleeting, was hard to resist. With a sigh, he turned away, his footsteps echoing in the quiet street as he continued on his way. The night was young, and the city stretched out before him, a sprawling maze of possibilities and dead ends.
Reese's world was a minefield of hostility and resentment, each step threatening to set off a chain reaction of consequences that could bury him beneath their weight. Lois and Hal had long since reached the end of their patience, their expressions etched with a permanent scowl whenever they looked at him. The scars of his past actions ran deep, a testament to the chaos he had wrought within their family.
Malcolm and Dewey, once his reluctant allies in mischief, now regarded him with a mix of fear and disdain. Reese's temper had flared one too many times, leaving them nursing bruises and broken bones, physical reminders of his inability to control the storm inside him. Lois had warned him in no uncertain terms: one more incident, and he would be out of their lives for good. The threat hung over him like a guillotine, its blade poised to fall at the slightest provocation.
Beyond the walls of their turbulent home, Reese's troubles multiplied. A staggering debt of $50,000 loomed over him, the result of countless pranks gone awry and the collateral damage they had caused. The debt collectors were relentless, their calls a constant reminder of his precarious situation. Each ring of the phone was a jolt of anxiety, a reminder that he was living on borrowed time.
School offered no refuge. Reese was on parole, his every move scrutinized, every misstep a potential trigger for new consequences. The thin ice he skated on was cracking beneath him, threatening to plunge him into a void from which there might be no escape. His reputation as a troublemaker preceded him, and the faculty watched him with wary eyes, ready to pounce at the first sign of rebellion.
Yet, amidst the chaos, there was a flicker of defiance within Reese, a stubborn refusal to be crushed by the weight of his circumstances. He was trapped in a cycle of destruction and regret, but there was a part of him that yearned for redemption, for a way to break free from the chains of his past.
As he sat alone in his room, the walls closing in around him, Reese knew he was at a crossroads. The choices he made now would determine the course of his life, for better or worse. The path ahead was shrouded in uncertainty, but he could feel the pull of fate, urging him to take a step, to make a decision that could change everything.
Reese's life was a tightly woven web of restrictions and surveillance, each thread a reminder of the precarious position he found himself in. The contract he had signed with the headmaster was a constant weight on his shoulders, a year-long sentence that stripped him of the freedoms enjoyed by his peers. He moved through the school like a ghost, confined to the narrow corridors between his classes and the headmaster's office.
The library, once a refuge where he could lose himself in books, was off-limits. School camps and excursions, opportunities for escape and adventure, were denied to him. Even the simple pleasure of joining his classmates on a retreat was beyond his reach. Reese was a prisoner in his own life, each day a monotonous march toward an uncertain future.
The programs he was forced to attend only compounded his misery. The construction program was a gruelling test of endurance, a place where his hands blistered and his spirit withered. The class for mentally handicapped students was a daily exercise in frustration, a reminder of how far he had fallen from the potential others once saw in him.
His mentor, assigned by the school to guide and advocate for him, was no ally. Their relationship was a battleground of glares and unspoken hostility, each meeting a silent war of wills. Reese despised the condescension in her eyes, the way she watched him as if waiting for him to fail. He met her gaze with equal intensity, a defiant challenge that masked the vulnerability he felt beneath his hardened exterior.
Yet, despite the walls closing in around him, Reese's spirit refused to be snuffed out. There was a fire within him, a stubborn resolve to find a way through the darkness that threatened to consume him. He was a young man on the edge, his fate hanging in the balance, and the choices he made now would shape the course of his life.
Reese stormed down the sterile hallway, his heart pounding in his chest like a war drum. Each step brought him closer to the headmaster's office, a place that had become synonymous with his failures and restrictions. He pushed the door open without knocking, the hinges creaking in protest as he stepped inside, his eyes blazing with determination.
"You think you have won," he declared, his voice steady despite the turmoil within. "But you have mis stepped sir. I am here to tell you that I will be allowed to enter the library. It's a right, not a privilege, and it is vital to my studies to be allowed there."
The headmaster looked up from his desk, surprise flickering across his features. Reese pressed on, fuelled by a mix of anger and desperation. "Most of the time I've been in trouble was for ditching, falling asleep, or fighting in the playground—not being anywhere near the library. So, it's a fair question why you banned me from the library. It's almost like you want me to fail, sir. Please enlighten me on why you thought that was acceptable."
The headmaster's brow furrowed as he leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled in front of him. Reese could see the gears turning in the man's mind, the weight of authority pressing down upon him. This was a pivotal moment, a chance to reclaim a fragment of his autonomy in a life where he felt constantly controlled.
"I understand your frustration, Reese," the headmaster began, his tone measured but firm. "However, your past behaviour has necessitated these restrictions. The library is a place for learning, and I cannot allow you to wander freely when you have shown a propensity for disruption."
Reese's jaw clenched, the words igniting a fire within him. "You think I'm a lost cause, don't you? That I'll just ruin everything if you give me an inch? But that's not who I am. I want to learn, to do better. Denying me access to the library only proves you don't believe in my potential."
The headmaster's expression remained stoic, but Reese could sense the slightest crack in his facade. This was his chance to push further, to fight for the opportunity he so desperately craved. The tension in the room was palpable, a standoff between two wills, each unwilling to back down.
The headmaster leaned back in his chair, a sneer curling his lips as he regarded Reese with a mix of condescension and disdain. "Eloquent," he repeated, the word dripping with sarcasm. "That's a big word for you, Reese. Did you get that from Malcolm before you broke his arm? Or maybe you picked it up from one of the Krelboynes' gifted students before you bashed their faces in?"
Reese felt a surge of anger rise within him, but he fought to keep his composure. The headmaster continued, his voice cold and dismissive. "Let me remind you, you stormed in here uninvited and unwanted. I did not schedule a meeting with you, Reese. You have interrupted me and are now threatening me. So, I think it's fair that you serve a week's detention. That should smarten you up. Maybe you could learn more big words while you're scrubbing gum from the desks."
The headmaster's dismissive tone cut deeper than any physical blow Reese had ever received. "Now get out of my sight," he commanded, his eyes narrowing.
Reese stood frozen for a moment, the weight of the headmaster's words crashing down on him. "Wow, you're so helpful," he replied, sarcasm lacing his voice, but the words felt hollow in the face of such contempt.
With a heavy heart, he turned and walked out of the office, the door slamming shut behind him. The hallway felt even more oppressive now, the walls closing in as he contemplated his next move. The headmaster's words echoed in his mind, a constant reminder of how far he had fallen and how little faith anyone had in him.
Reese sighed deeply as he trudged home, the weight of the day's events pressing heavily upon him. As he entered the house, he found Lois engaged in conversation with Malcolm, her attention completely absorbed by his younger brother's recounting of his day. Reese stood there, waiting for a moment of acknowledgment that never came. Lois continued her conversation, seemingly oblivious to his presence.
Hal, seated in his usual spot, barely glanced up from his newspaper, his eyes skimming the headlines with disinterest. Reese felt the familiar sting of being invisible, an unwelcome ghost in his own home. He retreated to his room, the silence suffocating in its indifference.
The next day at school, Reese faced the same wall of apathy. Miss Thompson, who had once been a beacon of hope, was brisk in their meeting, dismissing him before he could utter a word. Her eyes barely met his as she shuffled papers, her impatience a palpable barrier between them. Reese left her office, the door closing with a finality that echoed in his heart.
As he navigated the halls, he noticed the dismissive glances from teachers and students alike. Conversations halted as he approached, eyes sliding away as if he were a mere shadow passing through. Reese felt the sting of neglect, the pain of being unwanted and unheard. It was a feeling more profound than hatred or scorn, a void where connection should be.
He sighed; the sound lost in the cacophony of the school day. The isolation was a heavy cloak, draping over him and suffocating any spark of defiance. He moved through his classes in a daze, the monotony only broken by the occasional sneer or whispered insult.
As the day ended, Reese found himself alone, the corridors emptying as students hurried home. He lingered for a moment, the silence pressing in on him, amplifying the loneliness that had become his constant companion. He said nothing, his voice swallowed by the emptiness around him.
Reese walked through the school halls, the weight of neglect and indifference hanging heavily on his shoulders. He passed by his assigned mentor, who was heading into the monthly event where mentors and students were meant to share their achievements and goals. It was a time for celebrating progress, for fostering connections, but for Reese, it was just another reminder of his isolation.
Most of the mentors and students seemed to have formed strong bonds, their laughter and camaraderie evident as they gathered to share their stories. Reese watched from the sidelines, a silent observer to the warmth and support that seemed to envelop everyone but him.
His mentor, however, was a different story. The animosity between them was palpable, a chasm that neither seemed willing or able to bridge. Reese's mentor had taken on additional students, those who struggled with their own mentors, leaving Reese to fend for himself. The time she was supposed to spend guiding him was instead given to others, a clear indication of her disdain.
Reese stood at the edge of the room, his presence unnoticed and unacknowledged. The chatter and laughter around him felt like a foreign language, one he was no longer fluent in. He said nothing, his silence a barrier that kept him apart from the world that continued to turn without him.
The event continued, mentors and students sharing their stories of growth and achievement. Reese listened, a part of him yearning for that connection, for someone to see him and recognize his potential. But the moment passed, and he remained an outsider, his mentor's absence a glaring reminder of his unwanted status.
As the event ended, Reese lingered for a moment, watching as the room emptied, the warmth and energy dissipating into the cold corridors of the school. He turned away, the silence once again his only companion as he made his way out.
Reese returned home, the weight of the day still pressing down on him. Dinner was already set on the table, the familiar smell of overcooked vegetables and meat wafting through the air. Lois and Hal were seated, their faces set in expressions of mild annoyance, as if his mere presence was a disruption to their routine.
As he sat down, Reese felt the familiar tension settle around him. He picked at his food, his appetite lost in the swirl of neglect and resentment that had become his daily fare. The silence at the table was thick, punctuated only by the sound of utensils clinking against plates. Malcolm and Dewey exchanged glances, their eyes betraying a mix of fear and disdain as they avoided any mention of Reese.
"How was school?" Lois asked, her tone lacking genuine curiosity. It was more of a formality than an invitation for conversation. Reese opened his mouth to respond, but the words died on his lips. He knew talking back would only lead to more trouble, more anger directed at him. Instead, he chose silence, his gaze hardening as he glared back at his family.
Hal, oblivious to the storm brewing beneath the surface, continued to eat, while Lois shifted her focus to Malcolm, eager to hear about his day. Reese felt the familiar sting of being ignored, of being treated as if he were invisible. The neglect felt worse than any scorn they could have hurled at him; it was a dull ache that settled deep in his chest.
As the meal continued, Reese remained quiet, his thoughts spiralling into a dark place. He was a ghost in his own home, a shadow that loomed large but was never acknowledged. The feeling of mutual hatred with his mentor, Sarah, mirrored the indifference he faced at the dinner table. It was a cycle of isolation that seemed unbreakable.
Finally, as the meal came to an end, Reese pushed his plate away, the remnants of food untouched. He stood up, the chair scraping against the floor, drawing a fleeting glance from Lois. "Where do you think you're going?" she snapped, but Reese didn't respond. He simply walked away, the weight of their disregard heavy on his shoulders.
As Reese walked into the assembly hall, he was immediately struck by the sight of rows of boys seated in neat lines, their expressions a mix of boredom and forced reverence. The atmosphere was thick with expectation, and the headmaster stood at the front, his presence commanding the room. Reese felt a wave of frustration wash over him; this had nothing to do with him.
He shook his head and turned to leave, but the headmaster's voice cut through the murmurs of the crowd. "Reese! Where do you think you're going?"
Reese paused, turning back to face the headmaster, his defiance bubbling to the surface. "I'm no pilgrim. I'm not a believer, and I'm not interested. This doesn't affect me."
Before he could step away, a fiery preacher stepped forward, his charisma almost palpable as he addressed the assembly. "Oh, yes, it does! Your parents put you down for a year. You're staying! You will sit here and listen to the word of God, and you will be silent. So, sit down now, and you will speak only when spoken to."
Reese felt his blood boil at the condescension. "I am no boy, so no. Goodbye." With that, he turned on his heel and strode toward the exit, the preacher's voice trailing behind him, a futile attempt to regain control of the situation.
As he stepped out into the hallway, the weight of the assembly's expectations fell away, replaced by a sense of freedom. But the confrontation had stirred something within him, a flicker of resistance against the constraints placed upon him.
As Reese stepped out of the school building, the weight of the assembly still heavy on his shoulders, he felt a flicker of hope that today might end differently. But just as he was about to head home, he was intercepted by his mentor, Sarah. Her expression was one of scorn, her eyes narrowing as she regarded him with a mix of disdain and indifference.
"Oh, hi," Reese said, sarcasm dripping from his voice. "My name is Reese. It seems like we never meet. Welcome to the school. Oh wait, you've known me for a year, and this is the first time you've even looked at me in months. Do you remember my last name, or do you only pay attention when I don't go along with the bullshit anymore?"
Sarah's expression hardened, but Reese pressed on, fuelled by a mix of frustration and defiance. "Did you have anything to do with me being shoved into this religious crap against my will? You probably had a form signed without asking whether I'm even religious. And you, my bastard parents, just went along with it. Screw you!"
The words hung in the air, a charged silence settling between them. Reese's heart raced as he faced her, the anger bubbling to the surface. He had reached a breaking point, and the time for silence had passed. He was tired of being ignored, tired of being treated like a problem to be managed rather than a person to be understood.
Sarah opened her mouth, but Reese was done listening. He turned to leave, the adrenaline coursing through him as he stepped away from the confrontation, ready to reclaim a fragment of his agency.
As Reese turned to walk away, he could feel Sarah's scorn burning into his back. "It really shows how well you know me or how little effort you've made to try," he shot back, his voice laced with bitterness.
Her response was immediate and cutting. "I don't care if you don't care, Reese. When you get into looking for jobs, don't come back and blame me. You've disrupted every class, and you're a little bastard, a little shit. Your parents have told me they can't wait for you to move out. They've encouraged me to get you out of their lives sooner. You're a dropkick—a fucking dropkick. I warn other students who are heading down your path: don't be like Reese."
The words struck him like a physical blow, igniting a firestorm of resentment within him. Reese turned around, fury coursing through his veins as he spat back, "Fuck you!"
The air crackled with tension as they stood there, the confrontation raw and unresolved. Reese felt a mix of anger and despair, the relentless cycle of neglect and hostility threatening to swallow him whole. He was tired of being a punching bag for everyone's frustrations, tired of being the scapegoat for his family's failures.
With that, he stormed off, each step a declaration of his refusal to be defined by their scorn.
As Reese walked away, he felt a surge of satisfaction at giving Sarah the finger, a small act of rebellion that momentarily eased his frustration. But he could sense her eyes burning into him, a scornful glare that only fuelled his anger. He didn't care; he was done playing their games.
Sarah quickly regained her composure, her expression shifting from shock to indignation. She turned to Miss Thompson; her voice low but filled with venom. "Did you see that? He just flipped me off! This kid is out of control."
Miss Thompson's eyes narrowed as she considered the implications. "We need to come up with a plan to contain him. He's been in trouble more often lately, and I can't remember the last time we pinned something on him. That's concerning."
The two of them exchanged worried glances before deciding to approach the headmaster. They found him in his office, poring over paperwork, and wasted no time in bringing up their concerns. "Headmaster," Sarah began, her tone urgent, "we're worried that Reese has breached the contract he signed. He's been acting out more than ever."
The headmaster leaned back in his chair, a calculating look in his eyes. "If he had, I would have come down on him like a ton of bricks. But just wait, ladies. The little bastard will slip up sooner or later."
A sinister smile crept across Miss Thompson's face as an idea formed. "What if we set him up? We could create a situation where he has no choice but to break the rules. It would give us the perfect opportunity to take action."
The headmaster nodded, his gaze sharp. "I like the way you think. Let's devise a plan to ruin him once and for all."
As they plotted, Reese remained unaware of the storm brewing against him, his thoughts consumed by the weight of his own struggles.
The headmaster, Sarah, and Miss Thompson gathered in the office, a conspiratorial air hanging between them. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation as they awaited Lois, who entered with a furrowed brow, clearly agitated by recent developments regarding Reese.
"What's this I hear about Reese refusing to participate in the religious group?" Lois demanded; her voice edged with concern.
The headmaster leaned back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips. "The little bastard said some crap about not being a boy. He probably thinks he can pretend to be the dog that ate his homework."
Lois's expression darkened, but before she could respond, Sarah interjected. "We've brought in the teachers to discuss Reese's performance in class. It's time to assess just how much of a disruption he's been."
As the teachers filed into the office, a palpable tension filled the room. They exchanged glances, clearly hesitant to speak ill of a student. When asked about Reese, their responses were filled with neglect and scorn, but they struggled to recall the last time they had pinned something on him.
"Honestly, I can't remember the last time he got into real trouble," one teacher admitted, scratching his head in confusion. "He's been more of a nuisance than anything, but nothing we could really hold against him."
The headmaster's expression hardened. "Remember, the little turd is on a contract. He has no rights and no way to fight back. You're in control. We can make this work to our advantage."
Lois nodded, the realization settling in. "We need to keep him in line. If he thinks he can get away with this, it'll only encourage him."
The group began to plot their next steps, a plan forming to ensure Reese remained under their thumb, unaware of the trap being laid for him.
As Reese sat in his dimly lit room, the weight of the day pressing heavily on him, he stumbled upon a dusty old box tucked away in the corner of his closet. Curiosity piqued, he opened it, revealing a stack of yellowed papers and a few personal belongings that belonged to his late friend, Sasha. Among the items, he found two wills—one from Sasha and another from a distant relative named Cassy.
Heart racing, Reese began to read through the documents, each word sending shockwaves through him. Sasha's will be straightforward, but it was Cassy's that truly changed everything. She had left him a staggering sum of ten billion dollars, an amount that seemed incomprehensible. But more than that, she had named him the guardian of her ten-year-old daughter, Elizabeth.
Reese's hands trembled as he read the conditions laid out in the will. He would be legally emancipated as Elizabeth's guardian, granting him the freedom he had longed for. The thought of being responsible for someone else, especially a child who had already faced so much, filled him with a mix of dread and determination. He would not let Elizabeth suffer the same neglect he had endured.
A million dollars a year would come to him starting on his sixteenth birthday and continue until he turned twenty-five, at which point he would inherit the full amount. The prospect of financial security was almost overwhelming, but it was the chance to be there for Elizabeth that resonated most deeply within him. He would not abandon her like everyone had abandoned him.
Shaken yet resolute, Reese felt a fire ignite within him. This was his opportunity to reclaim his life, to break free from the chains that bound him, and to provide a safe haven for Elizabeth. He would not let her down.
Reese took a deep breath as he stood outside the door to Elizabeth's new home, a mixture of excitement and anxiety swirling within him. He knocked gently, and the door opened to reveal the bright, curious face of his ten-year-old niece. Without hesitation, he stepped forward and enveloped her in a warm embrace.
"Liz," he said softly, pulling back to look her in the eyes. "I have some important news to share with you." He reached into his pocket and pulled out the wills, holding them out for her to see. "Sasha left me ten billion dollars, and I will inherit the full amount when I turn twenty-five. Until then, I'll be getting a million dollars a year. So, I won't be made of money, but you won't ever go hungry again, I swear it."
Elizabeth's eyes widened in disbelief, her mouth forming a small 'O' as she processed the information. Reese continued, his voice steady and filled with determination. "Sasha, who died a year ago, also left me a thirty-bedroom manor that we will live in together. I could have waited longer to get you, but I couldn't stand being apart from you. If I'm meant to take care of you, then I want to start now."
He paused, looking deeply into her eyes. "I don't care what anyone thinks. I'm proud to be your guardian. I love you, Liz."
With that confession, Elizabeth threw her arms around him again, her small frame trembling as she hugged him tightly. Reese felt a wave of warmth wash over him, a sense of belonging that had eluded him for so long. In that moment, he knew he would do everything in his power to protect her and provide the life she deserved.
Reese gently guided Elizabeth out of her aunt's home, bidding farewell with a promise to stay in touch. As they stepped into their new life together, Reese felt a mix of excitement and trepidation. He knew the road ahead would be challenging, but with Elizabeth by his side, he felt a renewed sense of purpose.
Their first stop was a law office, where Reese had scheduled an appointment to sort out the legalities of his newfound responsibilities and wealth. As they entered, the lawyer—a stern woman with sharp eyes—regarded them with suspicion. Her hand hovered near the phone, ready to call the authorities.
Reese quickly intervened, producing the appointment confirmation. "I booked this appointment," he stated firmly, showing her the proof. The lawyer hesitated, her eyes flicking to Elizabeth, who stood beside Reese with a determined expression.
"My uncle Reese is a good uncle," Elizabeth piped up, her voice clear and unwavering. "He is telling the truth. Don't be a poopy head."
The lawyer raised an eyebrow, her demeanour softening slightly as she assessed the situation. Reese seized the opportunity, pulling out the wills and laying them on the desk.
"Now that I've shown you proof of who I am," he said, his voice steady, "can you help me? I want to pay off a $50,000 debt to a loan agency while being legally protected."
The lawyer studied the documents, her expression shifting from scepticism to understanding. She nodded slowly, acknowledging the legitimacy of Reese's claim. "Alright," she said, her tone more professional now. "I can help you with that. We'll need to set up a plan to ensure your assets are managed properly, and I'll guide you through the process to legally protect both you and Elizabeth."
Reese felt a weight lift from his shoulders, the first step toward securing their future finally underway.
