"i don't give up easily,
'specially when there's
a real pretty girl involved."
"cute, merridew.
that's real cute."
When the pilot's daughter crash-lands on a desert island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, all she wants to do is survive long eno...
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At first, I thought it'd been a mistake. When we boarded the plane, it was supposed to be only boys. Which was why I did a double-take when I saw this girl sitting at the back of the plane, chin in her hand, looking out the window. She looked sort of sad, but she also had this calm, thoughtful look I sometimes saw on Simon, the quietest member of the choir. He never says anything, but he can be a good singer sometimes, even if he sings as quietly as he talks. Anyways, I thought she must've gotten on the wrong plane or something, so I decided to try and help her find the plane she was supposed to get on. Except that Percival was complaining to me about how Roger wouldn't stop pinching him, so now I had him to deal with. I don't think Percival ever quite forgave me for not reprimanding Roger enough for pinching him, though. I was too busy thinking about that girl at the back of the plane, and trying to get to her.
Maybe then I'd be able to prove that I wasn't just a piece of shit. That's all I ever heard of me, by the way.
"Jack, you piece of shit, why did you forget to take out the trash?"
"Jack, get your elbows off the table, you piece of shit!"
"Why didn't you get good marks on this test, you piece of shit? At your age, I made the honor roll!"
"You piece of shit, why aren't you head boy yet?" "Gee whiz, maybe it's because I just turned fourteen?" "Don't get smart with me, boy!"
"You're a piece of shit, you piece of shit, that's all you'll ever be! Can't do anything right, can't say anything right, you're just so damn useless and if it were up to me, I'd stick you in an orphanage!"
Long story short: I was not wanted, I was never wanted, at least not by my stepfather. How I survived without breaking down into tears every five minutes is beyond my mum.
I think she refused to let me become the monster that my stepfather was, because she started making me go to extended choir practices. That way I would at least be out of the house and without him. Out of sight, out of mind.
Whoever came up with that phrase clearly never had a stepfather whose voice rang in their head every time they made a mistake.
To be honest, that's why I probably started carrying a knife around with me. Not a terribly large one-it was just a pocketknife I got dirt cheap at a convenience store one day-but it made me feel safer. My stepfather never tried to hurt me, but the way he would yell at me and raise his arms and lunge at me made me wish I had some weapon on me to defend myself.
Everything I said and did was tainted because of him. The voice of my stepfather ringing in my head. If I thought it was halfway decent, it was always, "you could do better, you should do better" followed by more yelling, the phrase "piece of shit" being thrown around at least one hundred times, and sometimes I ended up with a couple of bruises.
I did not want to ever become even half as awful as he was.
I think that's why I did it, to be honest. The plane had crashed and some of us were sporting some cuts and bruises, but we all seemed fine. Her, though-she was out cold and her arm was bleeding something awful.
