Case Reopened

Falling Apart

This was specifically requested by one reader, you know who you are, and I hope it doesn't disappoint.

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Mason calmly wrapped his fingers around the vase's slender neck. The antique porcelain felt cool to the touch and smooth in texture. He gripped it tight. It wouldn't break in his hand no matter how strong he held it. Lifting it above his head, he hurled it at the wall. Years of history shattered, leaving everyone in the room petrified with shock.

"How are you liking Hamilton Prep," Senator Kensley asked Mason.

Holding onto his mental image of the breaking vase, Mason smiled the same smile he'd been trained to wear since he was ten.

"I'm honored to be at such a prestigious school," Mason said, not knowing the voice that left his mouth but knowing it was the one everyone in America heard. "Getting to be a place my family helped built is like walking in family heritage each day."

He could picture the scandalized faces that would all turn to him after he threw the vase. He could even hear a few gasps. Somewhere Senator Olivia would shriek, he knew how she loved antiques. He knew in depth the items she owned. He'd been tortured by her mind-numbing monologue before.

"I know you're a junior, where do you plan to study political science?" Senator Kensley asked.

Study political science. Follow in his father's footsteps. Walk on the road that millions of pompous, overbearing, stuck-up men and women had trampled on before.

Mason mentally grabbed the same vase again and flung it at the wall. This time pieces of it hurtled through the air and even cut some of the politicians' cheeks, leaving red lines of blood.

"My father has talked of George Town," Mason said, pleasantly. "It is his alma mater after all."

An answer that said nothing. George Town. Mason would run away and join a gang before he'd step foot in the place his father went.

What kind of rebuke would he get for breaking the vase? Would he be called out right there? Or would he be escorted away?

"An excellent school. You know, I went to Brown myself," Senator Kensley said. "Let me tell you about my time there."

Mason took the vase again and smashed it over Senator Kensley's head. The man crumpled to the floor. This time there were screams. Men charged in and tackled Mason to the ground. The weight of them crushed him and he laid there, waiting for it to completely suffocate him.

But of course, it wouldn't. The men lift him to his feet. Before him stood his father. This time his father looked at him.

But would his father see him?

Would anyone in this room see him?

Or would they, all like his father, look at him but see nothing?

"I'm so sorry, Senator," Secretary Charlotte said. "I'm afraid I have to steal Mason for a moment."

A rescue. Someone was rescuing him.

"His father would like to see him."

No. Not a rescue. A kidnapping.

"Of course. A pleasure talking to you, young man," Senator Kensley said.

Mason smiled and thanked the man without ever betraying how he'd hit him over the head with a vase in his mind. As Mason was guided through the party of polished men and women, he smiled and no one knew. No one knew he could easily cause a scene. No one knew he wanted to scream out at the top of his lungs for all of them to shut the-