Fractured

Part one 2

The fault is not in our stars
But in ourselves.
-Shakespeare

It was my fault. I had thrown the first punch. But in my defense he had pissed the life out of me. He had no right to insult my mother like that. I felt the pity stares from the police officer as he glanced at me through the review mirror in the car.
I loved my mother and though it had been a year since she passed away I was still sensitive about her death. Very sensitive.
Yes she had not come from a well to do family and had to do inappropriate jobs to survive. But she had married my father and she had loved me and that was all that mattered. My father had no family to disapprove of his union but the press assumed that role and slandered her even on her death bed.

It was Monday morning and my colleagues had started taunting me. I knew that immediately I walked into class it won't end well for me. I kept my hoodie over my head, my headset in my ears, sinking deeper into my seat. Maybe if tried hard enough, I could ignore the stares and whispers I was getting. And yet still when some guy threw the challenged I accepted it. Accepted to meet them behind the school after that class.

Maybe it was the pictures they held of my mother that infuriated me or the names they called her that shut down my common sense. Whatever it was I threw the first punch and now I was in a police car on the way to the station. I didn't want my father to see me like this. He would be heartbroken. I'm sure the school called my sister. I couldn't imagine her reaction. I leaned against the window and drummed in sync with the siren wails. I guessed it would take a couple of hours to get me out.