Growing Up

Chapter 1

"15 years old and still counting on your fingers? You are never going to get out of the place you're in being that dumb." A teacher barked as she stood over Caleb as he worked through the math sheet he was given. Caleb began to think of what ways he could escape, as being told he was never going to be good enough became common in his daily life.

The bell rang, time to go home. Caleb quietly walked past the art room, his favorite room in the building on his way out of school, but he didn't want to go home. He knew that there was not a single promising thing outside the doors of his school but possibly death. There was more than likely a fight waiting for him on the other side of the four walls of Intermediate 291, and he was tired of the constant battles, both with other people and in his own mind. 

He left the school as fast he could and cut through the local corner store parking lot, trying to get home before anyone saw him.

Art was his escape, the only thing he was good at. He would spend his nights hiding under the worn, carpeted stairs in the basement apartment he shared with his mother, her boyfriend and his 3 older brothers, drawing and hoping that one day his drawings would save him somehow. 

He made it to his front door, only to hear his name being called behind him. "Caleb, who the fuck do you think you're trying to hide from?" Caleb's neck snapped around, only to see his 3 older brothers Jamal, Ryan, Marcell and their crew standing there. Marcell approached Caleb "You forget about last night? When you took my pop out of the fridge after dinner? You think you're cute, don't you?" Marcell grabbed Caleb by his braids, still tender from his mom fixing his hair. Caleb was dragged into the street and beat by his brothers and their group of friends, about 10 boys total.

Caleb managed to crawl into the grass, and wiped the blood from his face with his white shirt. Ryan smacked Caleb in the back of the head "Mommy is going to beat your ass for ruining your shirt, you know she cant afford to bleach that shit." The group disappeared as quickly as they came, and Caleb sat there wondering why he had to live this life. He wondered why he couldn't have been left with the family that took care of him as a baby, why they couldn't have been his parents?

The voices in Caleb's head began to rattle him with thoughts of revenge 'Go get them back. You could get a weapon' one said. Another echoed 'Yea! Then you don't have to worry, you get 3 hot meals and a bed every night in jail.' 

Caleb had been abused by just about everyone in his life since he was born, minus when he was in foster care as an infant. He stood up and brushed the mud off his stone washed jeans that were passed from his oldest brother Jamal down the line, now full of holes and the hem at the bottom hanging off.

Caleb walked into the house and quickly walked to the washer that was shared by his family and his mom's boyfriend's sister. His mom and her boyfriend, Derek had convinced his sister to rent her basement out to them about 3 years ago and Caleb knew that it wasn't going to last much longer.

Before he could find one of his shirts in the laundry basket, his mom's voice shattered the silence. "Caleb, what in the hell do you think you're doing? You know the outfit you wore to school has to last you the week. Derek's sister wont let me do laundry until I pay rent." Caleb put his head down and walked to his bed, collapsing into the pile of pillows.

"Caleb Maurice, answer me. You know better than to walk away from me when I'm speaking to you!" His mother grabbed him by the back of the shirt, and he sat up on the bed and looked her in the eyes "I'm sorry, mom. I- I fell and busted my mouth on the sidewalk. I didn't mean to get it on my shirt." She looked him up and down, then shook her head. "I'm not stupid, I know that wasn't the sidewalk. You deserved whatever really happened, you should keep your mouth shut next time." She began to mumble under her breath and went back to her room. Caleb was surprised that even though she was so sick from being pregnant with his younger brother that she still had the strength to pick him up like that.

Caleb fell back onto the bed and stared at the cleaning supplies lined up against the walls. 'If I drink enough bleach, I could die. Not sure it would be quick enough. Hmm, bug spray. Still wouldn't kill me fast enough.' He thought, thinking there wasn't another escape from his hell.

He grabbed his sketch book from under the bed and began to draw. Caleb was a very talented artist, and he wanted to go to Juilliard Art School one day. The art he drew was the one of the few ways he could run away from the struggles of life and pretend to be average for a bit. Caleb's mental illness made him afraid to speak. He knew hearing other people was bad, and that he would be put in a padded room if anyone knew, so silence kept anyone from finding out.

Caleb was also able to see many things others couldn't. He could see people long gone from this world, and he could see spirits that were there to help him or torture him. Most of them tortured him in multiple ways, and they were sent from people in his past. Even at 15, Caleb had quite a list of people that wanted him dead.

By the time his drawing was done, it had been 3 hours. His brothers had come in and were watching the TV they had that sat on an old milk crate while his mom cooked dinner. He would often black out, with no clue of what had been going on around him but was told that he would make strange comments and would not act like himself.

He sat quietly on his bed and attempted to watch TV. The TV was small and a distance from his bed, so he eventually gave up because he couldn't see. His mom looked over at him "Come eat." Caleb nodded his head and came to grab his plate. He sat down and quickly ate all of his food so his brothers wouldn't steal it from him. He then put his plate in the sink and laid down.