Finally Remorseful

Bloody Hands

A light fog had set itself onto the town of Saint George, Utah. Ethan Jensen had gotten his homework done early, and decided that a nice stroll down Main Street, was just what he needed to relieve himself from the stresses of the day. The October winds kicked up, making walking without at least a light jacket impossible. Winter was at the doorstep, banging away. And it would not stop.
His good friend Hannah had warned him about tonight. But Ethan did not heed her warning. He was a know-it-all type of guy. Being star quarterback of the football team, gave him an air of arrogance, haughtiness, and very poor listening skills.
Ethan dated who he wanted to. He fucked who he wanted to. And all because of his last name: Jensen. His grandfather from eight generations back, helped build the town of Saint George, Utah. The Jensens were the first ones to build houses in the town. So they felt that gave them some type of leeway, as to who got in trouble and who didn't. It also made it so that the Jensens would never be in trouble for anything.
There were various times that Ethan would get in trouble throughout his school year, the teacher would bring it to his father's attention, and his father would dismiss it as "boys will be boys". And in a smaller town has Saint George, where everybody practically knew everybody, everyone was in everybody else's business. Whether they liked it or not. One thing would happen on Monday, and it'd be gossiped and found out on Sunday during church. No secrets were safe. Everyone was a target.

The wind that night picked up pieces of week-old newspapers, empty Pepsi cans, torn up report cards, trash from knocked over metal cans, and smashed jack-o'-lantern juices covered the sidewalk. It was the normal rough and tumble type of thing that happened every fall. Some asshole teenagers would find it in themselves to be bored enough, and rude enough, to go around with bats and smash as many jack-o'-lanterns as they could find. Ethan was among the many of them, the found frivolity in said act of violence and teenage angst. Ethan's girlfriend even joined in on the frolickings, because being by Ethan's side was the one place she felt comfort. The one place where she didn't feel judged. The one place she knew she wouldn't get smacked around. Because if she wasn't in the loving embracing arms of Ethan, she was at home getting smacked around by her alcoholic father, for not doing the dishes fast enough, because their mother had left them just 7 years into the marriage.

His throat became dry. He knew he should have taken some water or a Pepsi with him, on his walk. He usually did. It was just this particular walk he'd forgotten everything. The usuals. The novelties that made a walk worth it to him. So he had to make do with some chewing gum that he had in his coat pocket, a lighter, and a pack of Camel cigarettes. He knew he shouldn't have started the nasty habit. What with him being born with asthma and all.
Ethan had been smoking for about 2 years. He started when he was 15-years-old. His father had got after him, scolding him for starting a habit that his mother had started when she was his age, that led to drugs, alcohol, and whoring herself out to half of the football team. Over time, Ethan got desensitized to his dad's railings and ranting is about his mother storming out on them, and how he would do the same thing to his family.
There were even times that Ethan and his father, got into fist fights due to all of the slander and rudeness that his father had thrown at him. Ethan felt it unfair to judge him off of a few bad things that he chose to do, in order to cope with teenage living. But the several black eyes, bloody noses, and trips to the hospital for broken ribs, kept Ethan guessing as to whether his mother actually made the right choice in leaving her husband.
But deep down Ethan knew he couldn't leave. Not with his little sister in the house. Ethan became the family punching bag, so that his sister Sammy, who was one 16-years-old, would not become their father's target.
Sammy, for all intense and purposes, got called names by her father. She just never got physically hit or striked. For some odd reason that was where he drew the "moral line". And Ethan and her were surprised, that their father even had one.

An hour into his walk, Ethan thought that he could hear voices coming from behind him. Creeking his neck slowly to the side and back, a pang of fear crept inside of him. No one to his knowledge, came out with him. As far as he was concerned, he was the only one that was out this late at night.
Or was he?