An Unforgivable Wish 2

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              Second chapter:) Meh. It's rated R, and I have absolutly no idea... huh

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My life used to be cherries and unicorns, but when I turned 12, things got a little out of control.

               First off, my dad left my mom and me standing outside my favorite restaurant in the rain on my birthday.

               Second, I started acting out in class and took up the nasty habit of smoking and drinking.

               Third, a year after my dad left, on my 13th birthday, I came home bound in handcuffs with a police officer at my back. I was sent to juvenile hall and in the process was raped by my fellow Bunkie.

               Fourth, I got my first hard-on for a guy; that guy being my eighth grade teacher.

               And lastly, I failed my junior year and am currently failing my senior year.

               And you know what sucks?

I don’t care.

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               It had been the best night any 12-year-old with horrible acne and smelly breath, could have. It was my birthday, but I didn’t expect the cherry-red bicycle that my dad wheeled through the front door right at twelve in the morning.

               After we had a few hours of sleep, and ate a huge cake while watching the Lion King, my dad suggested we go to my favorite restaurant. My mother and I agreed wholeheartedly, not knowing what he would do afterwards.

               You can assume what he did, while we stood there in the rain, with no umbrella, and smiles etched into our oblivious faces.

He left, and took everything with him, including my cherry-red bicycle.

               A few months after my dad left us; I was sitting in class and taking notes. It was a normal day for the old me, but that day changed who I was to who I am now.

               “You went to Disney World, and your dad took you?”

               “Yeah, it was so much fun; we went on practically every ride. I love my dad!”

               “I’m so jealous, all my dad does is buy me clothes and food, I mean, I would much rather go to Disney World!”

               My hands clenched in anger as the snobby girls continued with their dad mantra. “Why can’t I have a dad like you?”

               I tried to ignore them, really I did, but something in me snapped and I couldn’t take them talking about how wonderful and horrible their dad was. At least their dad was still living with them.

               “Shut the fuck up!” my voice echoed around the classroom. My classmates all gasped as what I said sunk in, never before had anyone been so outspoken like that in class. “Why can’t you just be happy with what you have?”

               “I-I don’t k-know,” the girls stuttered as I glared at them. They grabbed each other and clung desperately in fear, as though I would, at any moment, pounce and go for the kill.

               “Mr. Stark!” my glare switched over to Mrs. Finkle as she stared at me with a cross expression, “Go outside and wait for me there,” without saying anything, I stormed out of the room and slammed the door behind me.

               “I’m so sorry girls, if there is anything you need, just let me know,” I heard Mrs. Finkle tell the two trembling girls.

               For the first time in my life, I punched a wall; splitting open the tender skin on my knuckles. It wouldn’t be my last ager-crazed punch; in fact, it would be the beginning of many.

               Even more months after that, I was an honorary member of the drug-using Americans Society, or as I liked to call them, Greg and Pete. There were only two people in middle school that used drugs regularly, and it was them.

               In those long months, I became the best of friends with not only marijuana, but Greg and Pete. Every night I would sneak out of my bedroom window and meet them in the park a few streets down from my house.

               For a few hours, we would get high and do stupid and say stupid things to each other. I wish I could tell you exactly what those things were, but I would’ve had to been sober to remember.

               One night we decided to meet at a party that Greg’s older brother was throwing.

               “Hey Ryder, come over here and light up with us,” Pete slurred. He attempted to come to me, but fell down on top of a high school girl that was already passed out on the couch, despite the early time.

               The state of the girl was not a surprise to me, because I had been too a lot of high school parties with Greg and Pete before, and they were even crazier.

               I laughed as Pete started humping her leg. “Pete, just because you can’t get any when they are awake, doesn’t mean you pull a move when they are passed out!” I laughed and pulled his scrawny figure up by the collar of his shirt.

               When we reached the kitchen, I took in the sweet aroma of drugs and smiled as I felt my eyes water. I spotted Greg sitting on the counter with a girl between his legs, “Hey, save some for me,” I cat-called to him before turning and sitting at the kitchen table.

               “What’ll it be?” a husky voice asked me.

               I glanced at Luke, a regular drug-dealer who usually dealt at the parties we went to- and smirked at him. “You know the drill, Lukey boy; just give me what I normally get.”

               When it was one in the morning, I decided it was time to go home, even though my brain was clouded and you could smell the drugs and alcohol on me from miles away.

               The guys all complained loudly when I said my goodbyes; those were some good guys, even though they were addicted to drugs.

               Bright lights flashed behind me and I looked over my shoulder as a police car pulled up on the curb next to me. Since my brain was fogged up, I didn’t think to run until it was too late. “Excuse me sir, but can you explain to me what you are doing out at this time of night?”

               “Why are y-you out at this t-time of night?” I reiterated back at him.

               The cop watched me for a moment as I shifted nervously from foot to foot, “You are going to have to come with me, sir,” the cop reached a hand out towards me and grabbed my arm forcefully.

               “Where are we going?” I smiled sloppily, the drug still running through my veins.

               “Where do you live?”

               “Uh oh.”

~*~

               “Ryder Stark, you are hereby sentenced to juvenile hall for two years,” the judge slammed his gavel down and sealed my fate.

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