art becomes him.

2. oliver

"Tell me what happened." Principal Peyton asked. I sat in the principal's office with an adversary of mine because alittle while ago, we caused a scene in the middle of lunctime. I was just minding my own business while I carried my tray until suddenly, this cretinous man abruptly threw my lunch tray away leaving my lunch on the floor. Clearly I was infuriated and annoyed but for once in my life, I didn't hold my anger back unlike before when I was too reluctant and cowardly to do it. So I threw a violent punch out of my exasperation and saw the guy tremble before me for the first time. It felt amazing. The punch may have left my knuckles bruised, but having to see my enemies fall before my wrath felt fulfilling.

But it didn't end there as he recollected himself and stood up to face me again, leaving his left eye with a nasty bruise. In retaliation, he threw a brutal jab that I was luckily able to miss. At this point, we've caused too much of a commotion and because of that, we were able to gather an audience. They were chanting "fight!" in the midst of our quarrel and ironically, they regarded the whole brawl as entertainment rather than a concerning situation. As they peered over to our clash, I decided to hit him again but this time on the stomach, callously thwacking him on his jacked up abdomen. It piqued him seeing that people were witnessing him lose for the first time and especially, to a person like me. A wee-looking boy who does not possess such a body build as his yet somehow, winning a fistfight against his sturdy and robust figure.

He fell once more uttering a curse word under his breath. Like before he stood up again, ready to avenge himself, but unlike awhile ago when I could still defeat him. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to. He, with all his anger and pride, striked me in my abdomen and on my nose leaving my frail figure on the concrete floor. I lost my pride and my strength to fight back, closing my eyes to the excruciating pain he gave me and for sure my nose was bleeding. My abdomen has never felt such pain before and I'm sure my abdomen doesn't wanna feel it again. My legs curled up and my arms covered my stomach, my eyelids have yet to depart but my mouth opened and  said "fuck." It hurt alot. As I lay weak on the floor he decided to pounce on me and punch me continously on the face. My face hurt like hell. It ached and bruised, my nose was probably all fucked up. Both of my eyes have probably turned stygian.

All I could hear was, shouting, cheering and chanting. The students all cheering for my defeat and for my loss. My eyes remained contracted as his violent blows continued on. After a few more blows of his knuckles, a voice in the distance demanded. "Alright, all of you! Get back to class. Lunchtime is over and for the both of you ninnies, come with me to the principal's office." Mrs. Addington said. Another nuisance in this place. That event led me to where I am now. Sitting in the principal's office explaining how that jock outside has a black eye. I was proud of that mark, not gonna lie. I'm actually still surprised of myself on how I suddenly had the balls to start a fistfight. I was never the type to start one or to start anything at all with anyone or with anything at school. I'm that shy guy at school who you wouldn't expect to start such a commotion one day. I wouldn't even talk or argue with anyone. I'm really distant with everyone probably because communication isn't my thing.

I think that way because my words always lead other people to bad places. When I connect with someone, I end up hurting them. I had many encounters of those situations when I was younger, they caused me so much self-loathe just for speaking. Regarding the incident awhile ago, I didn't talk to that jock today but on a bad day, I used to throw a snide remark at him when he'd insult me first. It led both of us to bad places. My words always create havoc and my presence, even more so. That's why silence and distance is my thing and I plan to keep it that way. "So that's what happened. Just another stupid fistfight Mr. Peyton." I summarized. "So why are you a part of this 'stupid fistfight'? When you yourself are an excellent student, and mind you, not stupid at all." He replied. "I was enraged Mr. Peyton, he acted harsh at me when I hadn't done him any wrong. I let my emotions take over my actions." I defended "So I'm sorry Mr. Peyton. It won't happen again." I said.

"It better not Mr. Dyer. You're a very good student, one of the precocious ones here actually. A silent and frigid pupil but is actually one of much potential. I don't want you to ruin that, especially because this is your last year here. You're graduating, Mr Dyer. Mind you." He replied. Oh yeah, I'm graduating this year. I better not fuck up right? I hope I won't.

I left the office feeling the same as before. My nose probably broken and my eyes left with a dusky hue. I went home right after that and tried to rest. It was one of those nights that atleast alittle tinge of grace blessed me. My foster parents cooked. I was getting tired of having to cook dinner or any meal for myself since that was always the thing for me since when I was a child. They paid no matter to me at all. Right after I was taken home by them, my life went south. Tonight though, my foster mother cooked and surprisingly, it was good enough. But as we were eating, my foster parents were screaming across from each other at the table. I paid no mind at their argument because I was already fed up with it. As they continued their blabbering my foster father stood up from his seat, grabbed his windbreaker and left the house leaving my foster mother and I on the table. 

It was awkward. It was too silent. The only night of silence in this house. She continued eating the food, her head looking down. I continued staring at her wondering what their argument was about. "So, how was school today?" She so randomly asked. I was taken aback. Did she really just talk to me? Asking me how my day was? Having a sense of concern in a long time? I was shocked, she spoke to me. "Are you okay?" She asked once more. I looked down on my plate remaining silent. "C'mon, talk to me. Please." She begged. "School....was fine." I said with an apathetic tone. "I don't think it was, you got bruises on both of your eyes." She said "Tell me what's wrong, honey." 

"What? Why?" I asked with confusion. Is she genuinely concerned for me? Why the hell is she asking me these questions like a real parent? "Because I'm your mother, your foster mother." She said like I was oblivious "Now tell me, what was the ordeal at school?" 

"Why are you asking me these questions when you don't even act like a mother to me? Shouldn't I be asking you guys the questions about why the fuck you adopted me but just disregarded me anyways? What happened? Why are you all of a sudden so concerned for me?" I argued. This time, I was furious and teary-eyed. I wanted to cry and scream infront of her all the pain she caused me. This is the first time she asked questions like these. When they took me home, they became indifferent and left me to be alone. They paid for school and that's it. They wouldn't act like parents. They never cared for me. They hurt me and abused my right of being cared and loved for. It's one of the biggest heartaches I endured, it's when the people who were supposed to care for you and love you, fucking left you alone and treated you like shit instead. 

They didn't care about my feelings, instead they'd beat me up and hurt me like I was a big inconvenience to them. My foster father would use to beat me up with his belt and threaten to point a gun at me. He'd call me names and insult me when I did nothing wrong. And my foster mother would ignore me, she wouldn't even care to ask me if I was ok. Is it wrong that I'm angry because I wasn't being treated like another fucking human being? Or even a family member? A son? 

"Don't talk to me like that Oliver." Her voice sounding like she was about to break down. I left the dining table, leaving her alone and I went upstairs to my room, cried myself to sleep.