Free Spirit

Poison

Ivern shut his eyes and breathed deeply. He needed to think. There was no was no way he was going to outlast this. There was no way he was going to make it.

"No. There has to be something I can do. I can't just sit here for it. I must do something."

Ivern opened his eyes and looked around, brushing black strands of hair out of his eye so he could see. Even though this place was so familiar, the look of amazement in Ivern's solid green eyes made him look like he never been here before. He was in the jungle, a place he called home. The lush green undergrowth teeming with color, the noise and movement of all the animals around the rainforest, and the soft green ceiling of the trees above were all things that comforted him and told him this was the place that he belonged.

Ivern stood up, rising from his place of thought on the wooden floor. He was in his treehouse, pondering what he could do. As Ivern opened the door out of his treehouse, he walked onto the wooden bridge that connected to all the other tree-buildings. Maybe if he could just take a walk, he could think more clearly.

All his life, he had been able to outrun things. He may not have been the fastest, but he had the most endurance. They say that humans are endurance predators, that they weren't faster or stronger, but they kept chasing their prey until they tired out. This was the spirit of Ivern. Others could have strength, speed, and intelligence. He could have his endurance. No matter how big of a problem that faced him, he would just bide his time, and let his opponents tire themselves out. But now, this strategy probably wouldn't work.

"Ive!!!" Ivern's mom called. "Come here and tell me what this is!"

Ivern shuffled his feet and looked at his mother, steaming and brooding with anger.

"Tell me. What the hell is this?" A piece of paper was shoved into Ivern's face and a slight push sent Ivern's bony frame tumbling to its knees.

"My report card for the entrance exam, mother. I tried my hardest, but I'm not smart enough. I got a 'C', I'll try to do better next time," Ivern replied.

"A 'C'!?! IVERN! YOU KNOW OUR FAMILY TAKES ACADEMICS VERY SERIOUSLY! THIS IS YOUR FUTURE WE ARE TALKING ABOUT! THERE IS NO TIME FOR AVERAGE! THERE IS NO TIME FOR A 'C'! YOU CLEARLY DIDN'T STUDY HARD ENOUGH!!! I PUT ALL THIS WORK INTO YOU, YOU UNGRATEFUL STUPID LITTLE BASTARD, AND ALL YOU CAN GIVE ME IS A 'C'?!?"

"I'm sorry, mother. I tried my best. I will try harder next time,"

"YOU HAVE BROUGHT DISHONOR ON THIS FAMILY!!!" Ivern's mother screamed.

Ivern did get into the academy, despite his mother's disappointment. However, fearing her wrath, Ivern did everything he could to make his mother proud. She worked so hard, after all, to raise him. He made sure his grades were on the high end, and actively participated in sports and extracurriculars. He worked to become stronger, becoming taller and filling out his body with muscles as he grew. He made sure to be as helpful as he could around the Los Angeles apartment, running the place almost entirely by himself. He worked for those top marks, the #1 awards, anything that would bring a smile from his mother.

But the smile never came. Every award, no matter how prestigious, was met with a straight face and a nod, before Ivern's mother turned away in disinterest. Was there anything that could be done to get her attention? Seemed like Ivern got more attention from doing worse than doing good. The thoughts clung to his stomach like a viscous liquid, turning his stomach upside down and rattling his nerves and biting at his will. Ivern didn't even know why his mother cared so much when Ivern failed when she cared so little when he succeeded. There has to be a silver lining.

No. Ivern was no villain. He would just keep working. Eventually, his mom would be proud. He would just keep working at it.

So Ivern continued the struggle. He made few friends, which his mother obviously disapproved of, but it was ok. Ivern was okay with being in the background a little, in his shell, no one would lash out at him like his mother would. No one would see him, no one would know he exists, no one would care. If no one cared, no one would give him the same beatings his mother used to when he wasn't smart or strong enough yet.