Chaos

Chapter 1 Punching Bag

"Reading is one form of escape, running for your life is another."

...Lemony Snicket

Being punched in the face sucks. Being elbowed in the face by accident is far worse. Allen had been trying to pull Castor off of the far larger boy when the flying elbow connected with his nose. A chorus of "ohs" resonated from the onlookers as everyone watching winced and raised a hand to their faces in sympathy. Cursing, Allen pulled away from the brawl. His eyes brimming with tears, he tilted his head up and cupped his hand over his nose. He already knew what was coming. This wasn't the first time this had happened, and it wouldn't be the last.

If he stained his second favorite Pink Floyd shirt, Castor was buying him a new one. The sound of fighting had stopped at the injury. Well, at least he had accomplished that. He briefly contemplated whether the price was worth the outcome.

The cheering crowd of classmates lulled to excited murmurs and jibes. Allen gritted his teeth when he heard his own name making its way around the circle. Great! nothing like a little attention in high school to keep things interesting.

Allen felt a hand on his shoulder. His eyes were still blurry with tears, but he could hear his brother's labored breathing beside him. Well, at least someone cared.

"What did you do that for? I could have handled it!"

Hot irritation seared Allen's reply, "I wasn't trying to help you genius! You're going to get us expelled...again!" He sounded like he was suffering from the worlds worst cold. His vowels came out distorted, his constants all sounded like different versions of the letter B. A chill of horror went up his spine. What if he had broken his nose?

"Dude! You're dripping everywhere. I might have broken it?"

Allen tried his best to glare at his brother despite the uncomfortable position.

Castor grinned widely, "Look on the Brightside! A crooked nose will make you look street smart!"

Before Allen could point out that he could care less about being street smart, a battering ram knocked into Castor, and his brother disappeared from view.

"I'm gonna kill you!" The growling snarl of Kreg Granite did not grate on Allen's nerves for once. If he didn't carry out his threat, Allen was next in line.

A cheer went up from the audience. Finally, a lesson at school they could actually enjoy!

"What is the meaning of this?"

And that was how Castor gotten all three of them suspended for the next week.

***

The good news was, Allen hadn't broken his nose. It had, however, swollen to the size of an uncomely lime. Allen had ruined his second favorite pink Floyd shirt and, of course, Castor had cared less.

They're older brother Derick had picked them up from school, tired and irritable.

Derick had pulled up in his rusted ford pickup with the windows rolled up and the doors locked. Castor had tried the handle several times, then irritably knocked on the window. Derick feigned confusion, then surprise, and then apologetic understanding as he reached to open the door for them.

As Allen followed his twin into the cab, Castor turned to look at him and hooted happily, "Man look at your face! People will think twice before they mess with you!"

Allen had lunged at Castor.

There was more yelling and scuffling as Derick shoved them apart. He was stronger than Allen had thought. "That's it! Allen you're riding in the bed.

Despite their conjoined protests, Derick refused to move the truck an inch until Allen "Got his ass out of the cab!"

When their parents saw Allen's bashed in face and Castor's blackeye, there had been hell to pay. Allen had gotten the worst of it.

Castor had lost his bravado and had turned on his humble and regretful charm. It was the performance he put on for their parents every time he crossed the line. Allen's own frustration and anger bubbled over and did nothing to help his case. He was the brash and unreasonable twin with no self-control. Not to mention he was twenty minutes older.

Allen stormed upstairs to his room, making sure each footstep echoed like a gunshot. How else could he punctuate this injustice?

Derick was in his room claiming to be doing "college homework". Knowing Derick, he had finished his homework before it had been assigned. He was probably working on the next level of Red Dead. Willow was still at school and Castor was still an asshole.

So, Allen had no one to talk to and hear his side of the story. His speech of exaggerated innocence and profound injustice had no audience. He slammed the door of his bedroom and threw himself backwards onto his bed. The blank white ridges of his bedroom ceiling did nothing to distract his mind from his rage. They did however form a crocodile that grinned stupidly at him.

Allen rolled onto his stomach and scooped a pillow into his arms. He screamed angrily into the pillow, trying to vent some of the frustration he was feeling. All it did was awake a searing pain in his face. Right! He had been elbowed in the face! How could he have forgot.

There was a soft knock at the door, followed immediately by the squeak of hinges. Classic Castor behavior. Castor waited for no man.

"What?" Allen rolled onto his back again. Not caring how he looked to his brother.

Castor stood in the doorway. In one hand, his twin held an ice pack to his eye. He held another one in his hand for Allen.

Still furious, and a little embarrassed, Allen reluctantly took the peace offering.

"So, why'd you do it?"

"Do what?" Allen's voice was even more distorted than before. Still, the cool compression felt great against his hot skin.

"You tried to break up my fight. Why?"

"To be fair, I did break it up. Kreg just restarted it."

Castor smiled wickedly, "Aw stop deflecting. You tried to stop it because you care!"

Allen ignored the stress on the word tried. "If you get in trouble, I get in trouble. I was trying to save myself."

"Sure!" Castor sauntered out of his bedroom and started down the hall to his own room, "sounds like something a loving brother would say."

"Hey Jerk! Close the door!"

Castor ignored his polite request. Instead he heard his brother's door slam shut down the hall followed by a shout, "I love you too!"

Grumbling, Allen got up from his bed and slammed his own door louder. Sometimes he wished he had consumed his twin in the womb. It would have been less messy that way.