- LIL Smurf DOGG
- |
- Veteran Heroic Member
Honor Light Your Way, Our Blood Shall Forge A Thousand Generations!.
Okay, so if you read the original version, you'll instantly see many improvements and changes. I can gaurentee that I will not be starting over on this story. I thought about its plot long and hard at school, and I can promise there will be more twists and turns in it then a maze. Anyways, the storyline will be a bit different too. For instance, Derik will be an only child.
Enjoy!
Chapter One - Arguements
Here I am, in the Principal's office. Listening to Mr. Sullivan rant about my lousy grades, my rude behavior, and the fact that a teacher had caught me swearing.
What's the big deal, anyways? It's not like I'm the only kid who does it. Or like he didn't do it when he was my age. I've always thought it was hypocritical for an adult to punish you for something you know they did when they were your age. I mean, it was like, the 70's when Mr. Sullivan was fourteen years old. For all I know, he could have been a drug-addict.
"Do I make myself clear, Derik?" Mr. Sullivan finishes, face red.
"Yes, sir." I confirm with a slight hint of annoyance in my voice.
"Good. Now get to class. I'll call your parents to tell them about your behavior soon."
I sigh, stand up, and exit the office.
Hypocrite!
* * * * * * * * * *
The worst of my thrashing happens at home. Mom curses at me, so does dad. In the midst of the screaming, I think about how ironic it is that I'm getting in trouble for swearing, yet here they are, using every filthy word they can conjure up. And of course, while I smirk about this, it's the one moment Mom happens to stop ranting and catch my smile.
"Why the hell are you smiling? You think this is funny? Well, it's not!"
It's not like I've never been in trouble before. Mom and Dad had found out I was smoking last year, and also caught me with a condome I had left in my pants pocket while Mom was doing laundry. But, seriously, it's not like I killed someone. Jeez.
After about thirty minutes of swearing, yelling, and hating poor little Derik, Dad asks if he can talk to me alone. Mom happily obliges, leaving me a hurtful glance as she strolls out of the room. Dad sighs, clears his throat, and I know we're goind to have one of our famous father-son talks.
The worst kind.
"Son," he begins, then stops as he searches for the right words to say.
I speak up. "Dad, it's not like I freakin' stole anything, or murdered somebody."
He sighs. "I know, Son, and Rebecca" - my mom - "and I aren't all too worried about the swearing, but about the pattern you're acting up in. Last year it was the smoking, the condome, and now the swearing? Who knows what'll happen next?"
I roll my eyes, then grunt in protest. "If you're saying you're afraid I'm ganna become a drug addict or something, then don't worry. That crap's stupid. And when I was smoking, I had only been doing it for like, a week. Never doing it again."
"I know, Son, it's just . . ." he stops, running a hand through his greying hair. "We'll discuss your punishment later. Go upstairs and wait in your room."
I shrug like it's no big deal, then hurry to my bedroom where I can lay down, relax, and maybe watch some TV. Nearly fifteen minutes later I can hear Mom yelling downstairs. Dad too. They must be fighting. They've been doing it a lot lately, and it doesn't really bother me. But when I hear my name mentioned, I mute the TV, and listen intently.
". . . I can't do this anymore, Douglas, I just can't. Derik will never learn, no matter what we've done, he never learns!"
"Rebecca, calm down. What do you suggest we do? Send him to military school?" Dad retorts.
"Yes! Nothing else seems to be working! Why not?" Mom answers, sobbing.
Military school? No way in hell am I going there. Having to wake up at 5:00 AM, clean the bathrooms with a toothbrush, and march all day. No freakin' way, Jose! I begin to think of ways I can protest. Maybe running away for a few hours? Scare them to death, only to return, having them shower me in hugs and kisses, releived to have their son back? Not a bad thought, but it could also get me into even more trouble. God knows I don't need that!
A knock at my door. "Derik?" a voice asks. Dad.
"Come in." I answer. Dad opens the door, then takes a seat at the footing of my bed.
"Mom wants to send you to military school," he says. "But I think she's bluffing, she's just angry. The incident at school today was the last thing we needed. Your mom and I haven't been getting along, I think . . ." he trails off.
". . . you might be getting a divorce?" I finish for him. He smiles glumly.
"It may be for the best, Son. Rebecca and I will do our best to preserve our marriage, but sometimes things like this happen."
I honestly don't know what to feel. I mean, sure I'm tired of Mom and Dad fighting, but, divorce? I don't know how I'd cope with that. Suddenly, rage burns inside of me. How dare they even think about putting me through divorce? Why can't they just get along? Is it me? Am I the problem? Should I behave better?
"Leave me alone," I grumble, turning away from him. Dad sighs, starts to say something, then gets up and leaves.
He pauses at the door. "I love you, Derik. Your Mom does too. Don't ever forget that." he says, shutting the door behind him as he exits.
Instantly, my mind starts processing all the different ways I can exact revenge on my parents. Running away is starting to become a brilliant plan, and the more I think of it, the more I like it. Grabbing a sweater from my closet, I rush to the window. Opening it, I gaze down. I notice the gutter pipe near my window, leading to the safety of the ground. I grab onto it, get a firm grip, and begin my descent.