The True Devil Inside

Problems

The 70s were a weird time period, especially in Sacramento. Teenagers during this time period are considered to be lucky according to the old folk who were around during the depression. Though to make it in the world still required a lot of work, it still doesn't compare to the 20s through 50s. It was June 2, 1975, Magnolia High School was a very "advanced" high school, at least that's what the principle wants the parents to think. The school was "nice", it was clean for sure, and it did have its fair share of "interesting" people. The atypical squad also known as the atypes, consisted of 4 of the most diverse people in the school, even though there not on the same social level they've Been best friends since grade school.
The sunlight peered through the opened windows during first period on Monday morning. The desk were arranged in rows facing the battered chalkboard. Summer was recuperating from the allergen filled spring for Steve. His pale face and brown eyes glistened in the sunlight as he stared off to space. His haircut, the shag, was all brown and messy to the core. Unfortunately, the atypes were in different first period classes. Which meant he had to fend for himself. "Psst" a female voice whispered. A long pause took place, before the whisper got louder. "Aye spaz!" She whispered louder. Many giggled among the scene. The word irked Steve, he wanted to get mad or curl up under his desk, or just run out of the room back to the comfort of desolation. Spaz short for spastic, his nickname, because of his disorder the Pseudobulbar affect, which causes him to lose control of his emotions. Magnolia high is flourished with students who constantly judge, Maddie is a typical seventies cheerleader . Breaking his trance, Steve jerked around and yelled aggressively out of anger "What!" The class could hear the hatred in his voice, usually,  he stays quiet and let it happen. His face expression changed after a moment. His eyes screamed remorse and his jaw slowly slipped out of its socket, he looked surprised knowing what he did is going to cause backlash. He turned back around in his chair slowly, grabbing his hair wishing he didn't exist. "Can you dig it Maddie, the spaz just yelled at you!" Everyone followed in his mockery, laughing. Steve can't control himself, he felt like hurting himself. He started crying, the tears rolled down his face as his head was down on the desk. "Freak." Someone muttered at the back of the classroom. Steve wanted to be home under his bed reading his comic books. He wanted to feel important. He wanted to be like the superheroes in his comics, he wanted to be loved.
He wanted to be normal.
The hallways were empty, lockers were all closed, the white tile flooring shining in the presents of the sun, blue lockers stood there waiting for use. First period bell rung and, everything changed. The hallways flooded with students, noticeably Phil made his way down the hallway . His eyes were as blue as the sky, and he had his hair combed back.
He had a baggy letterman's jacket and baggy jeans. His face was dim for a while, until he saw Bobby, his tall brown haired  friend. His brown eyes made a ninety degree turn to look at Phil making his way towards his locker. Bob smiled, and Phil stopped, then Bobbies face contorted to express confusion. "You chill, Philster?" Phil jerked and began to say, "Yep fine, wanna go rollin later today? Just you and I, it'd be rad!" He looked confident, waiting for a "yes" to slip out of Bobs mouth.
"Can't  Philster, Lauren wants to go to a drive in later." He shut his locker and began to walk towards his 2nd period class. "So you blowin' me off for a girl? Best friends, are supposed to hangout." Phil looked a bit red. "Hey! Why you so mad. We'll hangout Saturday Phil." He tried to walk off again. "You said that last week,  turns out it was bogus." Phil waited, "Stop! Just stop. I don't need to give you all my attention, leave me alone. I have better things to do. Go hang with someone else." Bobby just went into the classroom not allowing Phil to respond. This has been going on for weeks now. The hallway was empty again, only Philip remained. He stood there, shocked; he then rushed towards his locker. He turned his back towards the locker and slowly slid down with his hand holding his hair.  What's wrong with me? Am I weird. He then realized what was happening, and why he had been doing "things" to himself for the past month. He rolled down his sleeve to reveal the sorrowful cut marks. He was in love with his best friend.
Bobby sat in his chair in somewhat of a blotchy way, his eyebrows were scrunched, it was obvious he was mad. He didn't know why Phil was acting so weird. His desk had gum piled under his desk, with writing all over the top, enough to keep Bobby entertained. The class was talking, patiently waiting for the professor to arrive. A blonde headed girl approached Bobby. "Have you made your decision?" She chewed gum in her mouth, her whole outfit was distracting and quirky. Her pants were butterfly tights, her crop top was plain white. It was obvious that Bobby didn't want to talk, especially to this girl, she was attractive to him, but he wanted nothing to do with her. "Not in the mood Bunny." His voice was lower and much quieter than it usually is.  "Look here, I win either way, so just except the deal. Let this be easy for yah" She leaned it waiting for a kiss. "I have a girlfriend, Bunny."
"I can ruin your life Bobby, not that you had one anyways." She said.
"Go ahead." His face looked confident, then he turned his head to look towards her.
"Act confident, we all know you' a lady whore, this is just your punishment." She backed up expecting Bob to retaliate.
"I am a human too you know!"
"I don't care, you are mine' all mine. I'm just waitin' for a yes." she walked away.
"Crazy bitch."
He turned back to the drawings on his desk.  All of a sudden, SLAP!!
His cheeks turned red, the class was silent as his head jerked to the right. Many started to laugh. He rushed out of the class room. His manly reputation was at stake, no one was allowed to see Bobby Parks crying.
The hallway was empty coincidentally. 

Do I have a future? Am I  doomed because I am not as smart, or not as talented as others? Maybe she's right I don't have a life. He pondered.

He knew he had already jeopardized his future, his eyes now filled with sorrow. He knew he had to do the right thing.

Roaming the halls were Bethany and Clark. Bethany was a white girl, black and short hair up to her shoulders. Brown eyes and big lips were her more noticeable features. Clark, her boyfriend was one of few African Americans in Magnolia High. He was liked by mostly everyone and was apart of the widely known Atype group. His hair was in Afro formation and his eyes were blue with a welcoming smile, he was a happy person.
"Sing for me!" She begged.
"Nah'" He looked modest in his skills and smiled to the other direction.
"One verse, do yah' favorite song." Her eyes were enough to convince him.
They relaxed at a chair at the end of Honors hallway.
"I can't sing!" He playfully exclaimed.
Bethany's face got more serious and grabbed his arm. He began:
"Please."

"Lovin' you
Is easy 'cause you're beautiful
And lovin' you
Is all I wanna do
Lovin' you
Is more than just a dream come true
And everything that I do
Is out of lovin' you"

The lyrics were familiar to Beth, she loved the song. Before it was over she hugged him.
His voice was angelic, and the lyrics rolled off his tongue like a wave of happiness. He was an tenor, just like her father, it made her love him more.
"That was out of this world." He saw genuine amazement in her eyes.
"You could have a future as a musician! You could...! You could be rich! You could..." Her voice got quieter and more sincere.
"Do what you love."
Those words hindered him, reminded of his mother. The woman he loved so dearly, the woman who Clark would take a bullet for.
"Don't worry about her." She looked at Clark, who's smile was gone
"It's your life, not hers."
"Go home and open the window, play your instruments for the whole neighborhood!"
"Rather radical don't yah' think." His eyes closed.
"Nothin' radical about followin' your dreams." She got up.
"Think about it, but I gotta get to third period."
He watched her walk away, she's right he thought. Later on that day, he walked through the door of his house.
"Good evenin' ma'am." He respectfully said, hanging up his jacket and hat. She didn't respond, she continued to watch the news on the old couch. She was fragile and gaunt. Her hair showed strands of grey hair. "I'd appreciate it if you acknowledged me mother." His smile dwindled.
"I'd appreciate it, if you left me alone devil child." She had a disgusted tone.
"That's...very hurtful" He seemed to want to tear up.
"You know what was hurtful!-" Clark tried to say something.
"Don't you dare cut me off! Just like your father a disappointment! You ruined my life! My family dose not talk to me anymore cause of you, they think you're a mistake and I agree with them, I'd disown myself to."
"How could you."
"I wanted you to be successful, all you did was drive your father away! You were a mistake, write a song about that! Musician nothin'" she napped her head back to the TV.
Clark ran up the stairs. Slammed the door to his bedroom and pulled out his old guitar from under his bed. The papers filled with musical notes were messy under the bed. He pulled out a random one. He opened the window and began to play. His voice was as loud as possible, he didn't care anymore, Beth was right. This is his life.
He sang his soul out. He started to sob mid- song. And the melody started to chunk up.
His bed was cheap, just like his dresser and night stand which is all the money his mother put into him.
He looked around, I don't want to live here.
His mother then barged in crying, "I thought I told you never to sing  ever!" She gasped in sight of the old battered guitar.
"Who...got you a guitar." Her eyes enlarged. "I found it." He responded.
"Where did you find it!" After a pause she yelled louder,
"Answer me!"
"The basement." He took in a timid voice.
Silence filled the room. She started to cry more, then her sadness turned to anger.
"Give me the guitar." She said calmly.
"Mother please! Don't take away my only happiness." Clark pleaded as she snatched the guitar away from him.
He followed her down the stairs.
"I am not taking away temporarily... I'm destroying it forever!" She walked to the old dusted fireplace, and threw the guitar in it. Since it was wood, burned like the empty feeling in Clarks heart.
"Please!" He fell to his knees, his happiness burned to a crisp. Nothing ever made him happier. It was his best friend.
He cried in agony, his mother rushed up stairs to her bedroom.
His eyes reflected the fire that burned his happiness. He got up lifelessly and ran out the house to the backyard. Only this time he wasn't coming back.