Nobdoy Gets Used To Hell

Have you ever wondered what it would be like to die? Have you ever wanted to just shoot the gun once, pull the trigger, curious about the pain? I have, but thats not the only reason I shot the gun. Many factors played a roll in my attempt at suicide.

My name is Brent Skyes. My parents are rich, and Im popular. People ask theirselves, why would the captain of the football team kill his self? My answer to that is we are more troubled than people persieve. About a month ago I shot my self in the chest in my room. Why not in the head you ask? I wanted to suffer, to feel the blood draining from my body. My parents were at work, and I thought that would be the perfect time. Nobody would be there to save me. But one minor detail changed the whole course of my life. I forgot about our maid, Ms. Murllo.That one mistake is the reason I am still alive today.

"Brent, time for therapy." Jack says, opening my door. I rest my gaze upon him. Reluctantly, I stand up and follow him down the hall.

After my suicide attempt a month ago, Ive been placed in Spring Hill Mental Hospital. Ive been here for about three weeks. Jack is a member of the staff here. He takes me to and from therapy, group and lunch. Thats the only time I have out of my room.

He leads me to Mrs. Scarlett's office. She's my smokin' hot psyco therapist. Jack opens the door and I head inisde. He closes it tight behind me.

Nice to see you again, Brent. Sit down please." She plants a fake smile on her face as I sit down. "So, how have you been?"

"As good as anyone can be in a prison." I reply coldly.

"Brent, you will ajust soon. You have only been here for three weeks." I try not to roll my eyes. Does anyone ajust to hell?

"So, I thought we would talk about why you tried to kill yourself." She begins.

"I already told you why." I say.

"Yes, but I believe there is more to it than what you say." I sigh, Mrs. Scarlett is good. There is way more to why I tried to kill myself than just being stressed about football season and school work. My parents play a huge roll in my wanting to be dead.

"Your very smart, you know that?" I say, giving her a sly smile. She smiles back in return and I swear I see her blush.

"Thank you Brent. But back to the issue. I need to know why you tried to kill yourself. The only way for you to get better is to open up to me, let me inside your head."

She doesnt really want to be in my head, nobody does. Its cold and dark in there. Its scary, all the thoughts that pass through. But if that's what she wants, that's what Ill give her.

"You really want inside my head?" She nods. "Okay, well, everyday I think about how I tried to kill myself. Ha, and everyday I yell at myself because I wasnt succesfull. Its like in football, when I throw a pass and the ball gets intercepted, my parents would cuss me out for not doing it right. Well, thats what I do."

"And why do you feel like you need to be yelled at?" I stare her directly in the eyes.

I lower my voice,"Because Im still alive." She shivers a little bit at my tone of voice.

"Okay, well thats all for today, Brent. Jack!" She yells at the door. Jack opens it quietly. I stand up, give her a nod, and then head out the door.

Jack doesnt talk as we walk back to my room. As we pass the cafeteria there is an uprawr. Some patient went nuts. Two security gaurds haul out a girl with brown hair and wild eyes. I take one look at her and know who she is. Its crazy chick, thats what shes called. Last week she tried to strangle herself with her pillow. They put her in a straight jacket for a week. Now she's back to her old, fucked up ways. Jack and I continue down the hall to my room.

He opens the door for my and I slip inside. He shuts and locks it. I go over to my bed and sit down. One thing about this place that I actually like is we get to wear our own clothes. No white outfits classifying us as psyco. Im wearing grey sweat pants and a black shirt.

I look out the barred window at a blue sky. This is a prison to me. It will never be home to any of us. Im waiting for the day that I can be set free. But does anyone ever forget hell? I wont, because I live in it.

Psycho

Ive learned some things from being in a mental hospital; killing yourself doesnt make you crazy, living does. Living my days out here in Spring Hill Mental Hospital have made me crazy. Looking at the same walls, staying in the same small room for hours upon hours makes me want to rip my hair out. Not to mention the psychos who also live here.

I sit here in my chair at group, staring at the familiar faces Ive been seeing for the past three weeks. But as I glance around the circle, I notice a fresh face. Its a girl. Her hair is dark black and her skin is tan. She keeps her head down, so I cant see her face. Im staring at her when a voice calls my name.

"Brent," Mr. Corps says. Ironic, I know. "Why dont you welcome our newest group member, Victory Johnson." Victory, so thats her name.

"Welcome to hell, Victory." I say with a smirk. She lifts her head and looks at me. Right then, thats when my heart stops beating like I entended it to when I shot the gun. I cant breathe. Her eyes are a moss green and her lips are plump and pink. She has high cheek bones and an all together perfect face. But its when she speaks, her words that kill me.

"Ha, I guess this is what I get for wanting to die." Her voice is sweat like honey, her words cutting me with a knife. If feels like Ive been stabbed in the heart. Ive never felt like this before. What is wrong with me? She offers up a sly smile, and I melt.

"Okay, thats enough." Mr. Corps jumps in. "Victory, why dont you tell the group why you are here."

She looks around the group and then her eyes rest on me. When she begins to talk, its as if we are the only ones in the room. Its like shes telling her whole life story just to me.

"Well, I tried to kill myself." So we have something in common. "I downed a bottle of my moms oxycotton. I was too scared to stab myself or shoot myself. I wanted just to pass out and die that way. My mom came home early for work. It was my birthday and she wanted to spend the day with me. I wish I could have seen the look on her face when she found me on the floor of the bathroom." She broke her eyes from me and looked at Mr. Corps.

"Okay, good. Your opening up to us, thats a start." Mr. Corps says, writing something on his clip board.

I continue to stair. at Victory while the rest of the group goes over their stories for her. Finally, its my turn to speak.

"Brent, why dont you tell Victory what brought you here."

I shift in my chair at the sound of her name. For some reason, I have butterflies in my stomach. But I dont let her know that.

"Why not? So I shot myself in the chest. I was in my room and my parents were at work. I thought I was for sure going to die, but then our maid found me. Guess I didnt think it through enough." I shrug my shoulders and smile, trying to seem like a tough guy. She doesnt reply, but keeps staring at me.

"Well thats all for today. Jack and May will escort you back to your rooms." Mr. Corps stands and exits the room. Now is my chance. As we line up, I walk over to Victory and stand next to her.

"Im Brent Skyes." I offer her my name, hoping she'll talk to me.

"Victory Johnson, but you already know that." She smiles and I see a twinkle in her eye. I smile back at her, staring like an idiot. What the hell is wrong with me?

"Come on you two." Jack says from the door. I brake my gaze from Victory to see that we are the only ones left in the room. We begin to walk out the door and down the hall.

"So you shot yourself. You must have a pretty bad scar." Victory says.

"Yeah, its awesome." I smirk and lift up my shirt, exposing my toned abs and long scar above my right peck. She does something I dont expect. Carefully, she runs her hands a long my chest, tracing the scar with one finger. I shiver under her touch, my body begging for more.

We reach the end of the hall where the boys and girls rooms are split.

"Well, see you later psycho." She leaves me with a smile and then heads in the opposite direction. I stare after her like a puppy dog staring after its owner.

"Come on lover boy, lets go." Jack says, grabbing my arm and pulling me towards my room.

"Lover boy, come on. Im so not in love with her." I reply, following behind him.

"Have you seen the way you look at her?"

"Dude, shes hot. I want a piece of it, thats it. There is no way Im in love with her."

"Suit yourself." He says, unlocking my door and allowing me inside. I walk in and sit on my bed as he shuts and locks the door behind me.

I lay back on my bed, crossing my arms behind my head. I stare at the ceiling and think. There is no way at all that I could love Victory, I just met her. Of course Id love to bang her, but thats it. I mean, how could I fall in love with a freak who tried to kill theirself? I dont even love myself.

Victory

What the hell is wrong with me? Yesterday in group, Victory had made my heart stop beating. Unfourtunatly, I was still alive though. But after seeing her perfect and beautiful face, I cant stop thinking about her. She's the reason I wake up in the morning. There is no way that Im in love with her. Im a ladies man, the perfect stud. I hit on girls not fall for them!

Jack opens the door and notices me pacing the floor, talking to myself.

"what's wrong, Lover Boy?" He asks. I stop and give him a look.

"I dont love her!" I shout, following him out the door. Its time for breakfast, and Im starving. Maybe Ill see Victory in the cafeteria. Stop it! Dont think about her!

Jack laughs and leads me down the hall. He leads me down the stairs and into the cafeteria. He chuckles and then walks away. I roll my eyes, heading towards the line. I try not to look around, dont want to search for her. But I do and see her sitting by herself in the back of the cafeteria. Perfect.

I grab a tray and allow the lunch lady to place a plate with an egg, baccon and sausage. I grab a cartan of orange juice and head over to Victory. She lifts her head as I take a seat across from her.

"Ive sat alone by myself plenty of times. It just adds to the crazy." I say, giving her a smile. She laughs softly and my heart skips a beat.

"Hey psycho." She replies, her smile warm.

"I have a name you know." I say as I take a bite of my eggs. There is no salt what so ever on them. They taste disgusting. But Im starving, so I continue to eat.

"I know. But I like giving people nicknames." She takes a sip of her orange juice and studies me.

"Then you wont mind if I give you a nickname." She thinks for a moment.

"What do you have in mind?" I pretend to think hard. I already have tons picked out for her; beautiful, perfect, amazing. But none of those will do. I want to get with her, not marry her.

"Hmm...how about freak?" After all, she is a freak.

She laughs. "I guess that suits me well." A smile lights up her face and I know she has me wrapped around her finger.

"Psycho and freak, we go together well." I offer a sly smile, trying to hide the pounding of my heart.

"I guess so." I dont know what to say to that, so I look down at my plate. I take another bite of eggs.

"Brent, why did you do it?" I look up at her, her eyes are sincere.

"You called me Brent." I smile.

"Yeah, I did." She smiles back. "So, why'd you do it? Why did you shoot yourself?"

Ive never told anyone the reason. I hadnt even told Mrs. Scarlett the truth.

"No reason." I reply, peeling my eyes from hers. She reaches out and touches my hand.

"You can tell me." Her voice is soft, and sweet. I want so bad to tell someone. But I barely know Victory.

I pull my hand away and stand up. "Your wrong, I cant tell anyone. Its not like you would understand anyway!" I shout the words and walk away, sitting somewhere else. I catch a glimpse of Victory. Her expression is puzzled, but sad. I didnt mean to hurt her, I just snapped.

I sigh and stand up, walking towards the trash can. I dump my tray and walk back over to Victory. This time I dont sit down.

"Im sorry." I say. She doesnt look up at me. "Victory, I really am sorry. I just dont like talking about it, okay?" She finally looks up at me, her face pouty.

"Okay." She replies. I sit down and try to cheer her up.

"Hey, you wanna hear about crazy chick?" That sparks her interest. She leans foward in her chair, placing her elbows on the table.

"Who's that?" She asks.

"Well, its this chick who everyone nicknamed crazy chick. Just last week she tried to strangle herself with her pillow, so they put her in a straight jacket for a week." Her eyes widen.

"Woah. She must be crazy." I nod. "Tell me more!" I smile and continue.

Victory makes me happy, she makes me smile. Shes smokin hot and is nice to talk to. Maybe once we get out of here we can hook up. But thats as far as Ill allow it to go. I already have enough freaks in my life.

Flashbacks Are A Bitch

Memories stay with you, good or bad. Sometimes you wish you could erase the bad memories, forget them all together. But then again, they are the only things linking you to the hatred and anger you feel. If the bad memories about a person were erased, you would forget why you tried to kill yourself.

Its been two weeks since I first met Victory. We talk a lot. She hasnt asked one more thing about why I tried to kill myself, which is good. Nobody knows why. My mom might, but I dont talk to her. I dont hate her, but I havent forgiven her. She was a victim too, but she was someone who could have helped me and she didnt.

Victory is a great person. She listens to me even when I ramble on and make no sense. And for the very first time in my life, Im actually....happy.

Jack opens my door, signialing its time for therapy. I sigh and stand up, follow him into the hall. Im sure Mrs. Scarlett will ask once again why I tried to kill myself. And once again, I wont talk.

I follow close behind Jack as we retreat down the hall. Victory is still in her room until we have group later on today. I stuff my hands in my pockets and keep my head down, not looking at all the psychopaths that pass me.

Quietly, Jack opens the door and I walk inside. I take a seat like usual and Mrs. Scarlett begins to speak.

"Hello, Brent." She says with a smile. "How are you today?" Thats a loaded question. I feel fine, happy acutally. But am I fine?

"I dont know." I reply. "I feel fine. Actually, Im happy."

"Thats good."

"Yeah, but Im a sick person. Why do I feel happy?" She thinks for a moment, going over my question in her head.

"In what way are you sick, Brent?" She finally asks.

I smile at her innocents. "Im surprised you dont know why, Mrs. Scarlett."

She shakes her head. "Im sorry Brent but I dont. I think you are healing and getting better. I never thought you were sick."

"Maybe thats one of you defects, Kathy." I reply using her first name. The name makes me wince, but I keep going. "Your a good therapist, but you cant get in my mind. You cant see all the things that make me sick." I place my elbows on her desk and lean foward, looking into her eyes. "Im a very sick person, you see. I tried to kill myself, would give anything to die. Every day I look around me, thinking about what I could use next to ensure my death." She backs away a little bit. "I actually thought about killing my dad once. Almost went through with it until my mom walked into the living room. She took me in my room and talked me out of it. I was seven." I see the fear in her eyes. She thinks Im going to hurt her, try to kill her too. I wouldnt do that.

"Brent, could you please sit back in your chair?" She swallows hard, looking at the pen close to my hand. She thinks Im going to pick it up and stab her in the neck. Im not kill crazy, just crazy. I laugh and sit back in my chair.

"Thank you." She says, suppressing a sigh of relief. "So Brent, why did you try to kill your father?" Her words trigger a flashback. The memory comes at me like a ton of bricks, causing me to be lost in thought.

Im seven again, playing with dinosaurs in my room. I hear my parents yelling. My dad is screaming at my mom, saying something I cant quite understand. I hear something break and my mom scream in pain. Im scared now, dont know what to do. I open my door and look down the hall into the living room. I see my mom laying on the floor with blood gushing from her nose. The coffee table lay broken beside her. I run to her in panic, screaming her name.

As I am running to her my dad cuts me off. He grabs me by the shoulders, anger on his face.

"Dont you dare touch her!" He spits at me. Im crying by now, scared to speak. "If you take one step towards her Ill beat you too. Do you understand me?" I shake my head yes and he hits me across the face. "Speak boy! You arent fucking stupid, are you?"

"No sir, Im not." I reply quietly.

"Good. Now tell me you understand."

"I understand sir." He looks me in the eye with evil and then throws me to the floor. He walks over to my mom smiling and kneels beside her. He strokes her hair gently.

"Maybe if you werent such a whore, Kathy we could make this work. Maybe if you would have closed your legs we would have such a screw up." He motions towards me. My mom doesnt speak. Just lies there on the floor and cries.

"Brent? Brent, can you hear me?" I hear Mrs. Scarlett's voice calling my name. I hadnt realized I had been screaming until I came too. I had been screaming for my mom, for help.

Jack and Mrs. Scarlett were staring at me now, concern visible on their faces. I stare at the for a moment without speaking.

"I-Im sorry." I whisper.

"Brent, what happend. Why were you screaming?" Mrs. Scarlett asks.

"He-he was beating her. She was bleeding and he wouldnt let me save her. I couldnt save her." I begin to cry. Mrs. Scarlett wraps her arms around me and I cry on her shoulder.

"I think he needs to go back to his room." Mrs. Scarlett whispers to Jack. "He needs rest."

"No," I object, pulling away from her. "I cant go back to that small room. I need to see Victory." She looks at Jack.

"I think he should see her." Jack says. She nods.

"Okay Brent, you can see Victory but only for a little bit." I nod and stand up. Jack leads me out of Mrs. Scarletts office and down the hall. We stop at the rec room. The rec room is a huge room with a couch, chairs, a pool table and a t.v. Inmates who cooperate get higher privilages like the rec room.

"Sit here. Ill tell Mrs. May to get Victory." Jack says. I nod and he exits the room. I stare around, my hands shaking and tears still forming in my eyes.

That day after my dad left I called my grandma. She came over and took my mom to the hospital. Her nose was broken and she had two broken ribs. She still never left him.

"Brent?" I hear Victory's voice. I stand up and wrap my arms around her, burring my face in her hair. "Brent, what's wrong?" She asks. I cant bring myself to talk. I let go of her and sit down on the couch. Tears are running down my cheeks.

"J-just hold me. Make me forget." I say to her, looking into her moss green eyes. She doesnt hesitate. She sits down next to me and takes me in her arms. I lay my head on her shoulder and continue to cry.

"You dont have to tell me if you dont want to." She whispers. "But Im a good listener."

I pull away from her and look into her eyes. They are a beautiful moss green. Her eyes glisten like diamonds. I cant help my next move. I place my hands on either side of her face and lean in, kissing her softly on the lips. She kisses back with little hesitation. When I realize what Im doing I pull away.

"Im sorry." I mumble, standing up. I begin to walk to the door.

"Brent, wait!" Victory calls after me. I turn and she runs over to me. She kisses me once more. I pull away, gently pushing her back.

"Victory, I cant." I say.

"Why not? You just kissed me." I liked Victory a lot and that was the problem. These feelings, they were foreign to me. I had never felt this way about any girl. I was afraid that if I kissed her and let my feelings for her come out, it wouldnt be just a hit and get anymore. I would be in love with a freak.

Reasons Are Masked Excuses

When I was little I used to look up at the bright moon when I couldnt sleep. I would ask my mom, can we go there some day? She said that it was hard to get to the moon, and we could only do it during our dreams. I had told her I wanted to go to sleep and never wake up. That I wanted to go to the moon and get away from here, because this place was scary. The place I was talking about was my life.

"Okay, so today I want everybody to share one thing about them that we dont already know. What are your hobbies, favorite band, something like that." Mr. Corps says. I keep my head down, staring at my feet.

I am in group and Victory is sitting across from me. I dont want to look up into her moss green eyes and see the pain Ive caused her. I could see the sadness and confusion in them the other day when I pushed her away.

"Victory, how about you start us off." I dont look up as she begins to speak.

"I was a cheerleader before I came here. The popular girl in school, someone everybody loved. I didnt have many true friends that I could talk to. But whenever I started to like someone, they would push me away." She replies. I look up into her eyes. Our eyes are locked, and I cant look away. I know shes talking about me.

"Brent, do you have something to say?" Mr. Corps asks, watching us stare at each other.

"Um, yeah. I, uh, was on the football and basketball team. I was popular as well. I had tons of friends. We would hang out, go to parties. I would have a different girl each week, hooking up with them left and right. But when one got too close, I would push them away. I was always affraid of getting hurt. I mean, my mother hurt me, why shouldnt anyone else?" I reply. Victory looks at me, understanding in her eyes. She's still angry with me, but she sort of understands.

"And how did your mother hurt you, Brent?" I peel my eyes from Victory's, now staring at Mr. Corps.

"She just did." I reply, not wanting to talk about it.

"She must have hurt you bad for you not to be able to trust another girl." I cross my arms and sit back in my chair.

"Yeah. But it doesnt matter, its over now." I look back down. My eyes are getting blurry with tears.

"Brent, you can talk to us. We are all your friends." I look up abruptly.

"None of you are my friends. You dont understand what I went through!" My voice grows louder as I speak. "My mom claimed to care about me. But she never once stopped him as he hit me, or beat me with the belt! She never once cared, so why should anyone else?" Tears are falling down my cheeks. I glance at Victory. Shock is written all over her face. I jump up and run out, sprinting to Mrs. Scarlett's office.

I burst through the door and she looks up. She notices me crying.

"Brent, what's wrong?" She asks, dropping her pen.

"My dad used to beat me and my mom. He would come home drunk and take all his rage out on us. One time he took a baseball bat and hit me with it. He didnt stop until my back bled." I am crying heavily now, the memories flooding my brain. "He stabbed my mom when I was ten. Stabbed her right in the stomach. My grandma took her to the emergency room and she told the doctor she ran into the edge of the counter. He didnt believe her, but what could he do?"

Mrs. Scarlett stands up and walks over to me. She wraps her arms around me.

"Brent, its okay." She whispers.

"He's why I shot myself. The day before I did it he almost killed my mother. When I came home from school she was lying on the floor with blood coming from her head. He had hit her with a pan because she didnt have something ready for him to eat."

Mrs. Scarlett holds me for a minute, allowing me to cry on her shoulder. "Do you want to talk about it?" She finally asks.

I pull away. "Yeah, I think Im ready." We both take a seat and I begin to explain.

After my dad would beat me he would come in my room. He would tell me his reasoning for hitting me. It was always something like he just got mad and he was sorry or he had a rough day at work and had to take it out on somebody. He told me to grow up and take it like a man or else I would never amount to anything. That's what I told Mrs. Scarlett.

Everyone has a reason for something. It doesnt matter what it is, its just a masked excuse. A reason is an excuse given to hide the lies they say. They want you to think they are perfect. When the truth is, nobody can ever be perfect until you admit you are imperfect.

Death Is What I Look Forward To

*Victorys Point Of View*

I cant remember the last time I saw my dad. I had to have been 3. Thats how old I was when he left my mom and I. He kicked us out and my mom was forced to live with my grandma until she found a small, one bedroom, beat up house in the projects.

My mom claims that she loves me, but she never once stopped to listen to me or chose me over the filthy men she sleeps with. She ignores my cries for help, shuts out the pain visible in my eyes. So when I finally had it, I down a bottle of oxycotton on my birthday. I thought it was a good time to go since it was also the day I was born. But my mother came home early from "work". I wouldnt consider prostituting a job. She found me on the floor of the bathroom and rushed me to the emergency room. Unfourtunatly, they saved my life. Now Im stuck here in Spring Hill Mental Hospital.

When I first came to Spring Hill I hated it. The food was disgusting, the people were crazy. But then I met Brent Skyes. Brent is amazing. He makes me laugh, makes me smile. For once in my life, Im happy.

But then he pushes me away. He wont allow me inside, wont let me help him. He just puts up more walls as soon as I brake one down.

"Victory, time for lunch." Mrs. May says, opening my door. I stand up and follow her out the door. Im starving, but not looking forward to what they have to eat.

Mrs. May leads me down the hall to the cafeteria. I thank her and walk inside, many of the crazies already seated. I sigh and get in line for something to eat. Tonight they are serving spagehtti and meatballs. Its not bad, but would taste better with some salt. I grab a tray and a plate of spagehtti, making my way through the line. I grab an apple and a bottle of water, looking for somewhere to sit.

I notice Brent sitting in the very back corner by his self. I wonder how he is doing. This afternoon in group he ran out crying. I want to go talk to him, but Im affraid he will push me away. I decide to take a chance and walk over to his table. I sit across from him and he doesnt look up.

"Ive sat alone by myself plenty of times. It just adds to the crazy." I say, reciting the first words he spoke to me. He looks up with at me. "Hey psycho." I say quietly. A hint of a smile touches his lips.

"Hey freak." He mumbles. My heart jumps and I cant help but smile. The sound of his voice makes me go crazy. I want so bad to reach across the table and take his hand in mine, but I dont.

"are you okay? It seemed like something was bothering you at group today, and then you ran out." He doesnt speak for a while.

"When I was little I used to watch my dad beat my mom. Then when I was ten he started to beat me. He used to beat me until I bled. My mom never helped me, but always said she was sorry. She claimed she loved me, but I dont know whether or not to believe her." He replies.

I dont speak. My eyes fill with tears and I want to wrap him in my arms. Some how, I can feel the pain hes feeling.

"My dad left my mom and I when I was three. We moved into this tiny, one bedroom house. My mom started to prostitute to pay the rent. She had a boyfriend every other week. When I was 13 one of her boyfriends Antonio started to rape me. I tried to tell my mom, but she didnt listen. It contiued for another year before they split. Then a few months ago her new boyfriend, Mark, started to rape me again. Thats why I tried to kill myself."

Brent doesnt speak for a while. Then he does something I dont expect. He reaches across the table, taking my hand in his.

"Victory, Ive been pushing people away my whole life. Ive always been affraid to get too close to someone. But I dont want to do that anymore. Your special to me and I knew you would be since the day I first looked into your beautiful moss green eyes. Will you please forgive me?"

I smile. "How could I not? Brent Skyes, your amazing and very special to me too." He laughs and smiles, still holding my hand.

I guess today marks the day when my life turned around. The day I was truely happy.


Family Is Just A Word

Family. What does it mean? Is it people who care and love you? Who would never harm you, and take care of you? To me family are just people who happen to share you blood. I dont give a damn about them and they dont give a damn about me. Family is a word, not a meaning.

Its been two weeks since I finally let Victory in. I havent been any happier. She makes me smile and laugh. Im trying to get better, for her.

Today marks the day that Ive been in this prison for two months. Its visitors day, the day when every inmates parents or "loved ones" come to visit. I doubt anyone will come for me, and Im fine with that.

I open my drawer and grab a blue polo, slipping it over my head. I grab my best pair of jeans and slide them over my black boxers. Mrs. Scarlett said I should dress up. I didnt want to argue, although I knew no one would come.

There is a knock at my door and I already know its Jack. "Time to go Brent." He says. I close my drawer and follow him out the door.

"Ready to see your parents?" Jack asks, making small talk as we aproch the rec room.

"Like their gonna show up." I mumble my response. He shakes his head and I walk into the rec room.

Most of the pyscho's already have "family" surrounding them. I spot Victory sitting at the far end of the room. A woman who looks just like her is sitting beside her. Her mom. Next to her mom is a tan-skined man with dirty black hair. He eyes Victory in a way that makes me want to beat his ass. His eyes skim over her body slowly, resting upon her eyes. I start to walk over to them and Jack stops me.

"Thats her family. You cant interrupt them." He says, one hand on my shoulder.

"Do you see the way that sick basterd is looking at her?!" I shout.

"Brent, you cant get involved." I take a deep breath and let it go. Ill get him later. I turn my back on the scene infront of me, unable to stare at the

sick ways about to unfold.

I look at the doorway and my jaw drops. Standing there is mom, her blonde hair flowing past her shoulders. My eyes tear up. Im happy to see her. But then he steps next to her. His eyes are dark and his hair is messy. He looks like he just came from work. The tears dry and my anger replaces them. She spots me. I want to run away but its too late. Shes aproaching.

"Brent!" She cries, wrapping her arms securly around me. I hug her back, breathing in her scent. She smells of cinimon rolls and cookies, just like shes always smelled.

"My boy." His voice says. I pull away from mom and stare into his coal black eyes. I find nothing in them but evil and lies.

"Im not your boy." I spit. "We just share the same blood." He acts as if it affects him, holdin where is heart should be.

"Brent, dont talk like that to your father!" My mom shouts. I turn my gaze upon her.

"I cant believe your defending him." She looks innocent.

"What do you mean?"

"This fucking sick bastered almost killed you once! Or did you forget?" I shout the words loudly and the whole room goes silent. All the familes turn their eyes on us.

"Dont talk to your mother that way!" He steps in between us. "This is not the time for family issues."

"Family issues?" I stifle a laugh. "Your no family of mine! I wish I would have killed you when I had the chance! Or at least killed myself so I would have to watch you stomp all over my mom like you own her!" I can see hes getting angry. He rears his hand back and hits me across the face.

Victory comes running up behind me. I feel her hands on my waist.

"Victory, get away!" I shout.

"Brent, are you okay?" She asks.

"Victory, go! Stay away!" I shout even louder. My voice scares her and she retreats to her mom.

I stare at my so called "father". He has a smirk on his face. I cant take it anymore. I ball up my hand in a fist and hit him square between the eyes. He falls to the ground holding his nose, blood seeping from it.

Jack runs over and holds my arms behind my back. Mrs. Scarlett enters the room.

"Brent!" She shouts. "What did you do?" She doesnt run to me, but helps my "father" up off of the ground.

I pull away from Jack and stomp away, not glancing in Victory's direction. I run into the bathroom and throw up. I dont know why, but I do. Once im finally done I glance in the mirror.

The image that stares back at me is repulsive. His eyes are black and his hands are shaking. This isnt me. It cant be. I hear a toliet flush and someone walks out of a stall.

Its Tyler, he is in group with Victory and I. He walks over to the sink and washes his hands, not looking at me. He grabs a paper towel and begins to dry them.

"You need help man." He finally speaks.

"What do you mean?" I ask harshly. He walks over to me and pulls a small, clear baggy out of his pocket. Inside is a white substance. "What is that?" I ask, staring at it questioningly.

"Cocain man. Helps out so much. Hey, after you use this you dont need those depression pills anymore." I stare at him for a moment.

"are you fucking stupid? If you get caught with that your dead." I reply.

"Thats why you dont get caught." He smirks. I thnk for a moment and then, without another thought, I grab the bag and go into the stall.

Love Is A Hoax

Everyone talks about love. They say its the best feeling in the world, that it makes you happy and it beats all odds. But is it possible for a girl to fall in love with the wrong boy?

Thats what happend to Victory. She fell in love with me, the wrong boy. Im no where near good enough for her, and I never will be.

I stare at the ceiling, my eyes heavy. I am unable to go to sleep. She's all I can think about, even though I want so bad to forget her.

Victory's words ring in my mind as I toss and turn, trying to lodge them from my brain.

"Ah!" I shout, throwing my pillow over my face. How can love hurt so bad?

I feel like throwing up, like crying, and like kissing her all at the same time. I want to throw up because this is all too real. I want to cry because I know I hurt her, and it hurts to think I did. I want to kiss her because...because I love her.

I love Victory Johnson with every bone in my body. Her smile makes my insides warm. Her eyes meet mine with intensity that I had never felt before. Her touch makes my skin shiver.

I take the pillow off of my face and stand up. I quietly walk to the door and barely open it. I look down either side of the hall; no one is there. Very carefully, I step outside and shut the door behind me with so much as a whisper. Silently, I tip-toe down the hall to Victory's room.

"Vitctory," I whisper, tapping on the door. I hear her shuffle around in the sheets and then open the door.

"Brent." Her face goes from happy to sad in an instant. Pain washes over me. How could I hurt someone so beautiful as she?

"We need to talk." I say, stuffing the pain and guilt deep down inside.

"You arent supposed to be out of your room, let alone in mine." She whispers furiously.

"It will only take a second. Victory, please." She thinks for a moment and then sighs. She opens the door wide enough for me to walk in and then shuts it silently.

"Okay, what do you want Brent?" She asks, turning around. As soon as she turns to face me I place both hands on either side of her face and kiss her with everything Ive got. My tongue slides in and out of her mouth, licking her lips. My hands slide down her body to her waist. She shivers at my touch and pleasure washes through me.

I pull away, leaving us both breahless.

"Victory Johnson, I love you. I love you with every bone in my body, with every fiber of my being. I dont ever want to hurt you again." I look into her moss green eyes.

"I love you too, Brent." A smile lights up her face as she leans in and kisses me once more. Slowly, I move her to the bed and lay her down. Im on top of her now, kissing her neck and undoing her night gown. She pulls my shirt over my head and kisses me again. Her night gown is off, her bare chest exposed. I lean down and kiss each of her breast and remove her panties. She slides off my sweat pants and I slip out of my boxers.

Before I push in, she stops me. We are both breathing heavy, preparing for what comes next.

"Brent, do you have any protection?" She asks. I hadnt thought about that.

"No. Its not like there is anywhere around this place to get one anyway." I reply.

"What if I get pregnant?" Worry is thick on her words.

"Victory, you wont. Just come on." She nods.

"Okay." I begin to kiss her again as I push my way inside. She moans in pleasure, and it makes me push faster.

Victory is beautiful and wonderous. She is different than any other girl. She not just a hit and run anymore. Im here to stay with her, forever.

Color

Color. I cant believe it, color. Ever since I met Victory I no longer see in black and white. My life is no longer laced in gray, but replaced by bright shades of yellow. She makes me happy. She makes me laugh and smile. Before, all I wanted to do was escape from this cold world. But now all I want to do is be with her.

I sit on my bed, staring out the barred window. The sky is a bright blue, the trees blowing in the wind. Its September, three months away from my release. Three months to many. Once I get out of here, I plan on being with Victory. I plan on spending every minute of my new life in her arms. Now that's something to look forward to.

There is a faint knock on my door and Jack walks in. “Time for group.” He says. I stand up and walk out the door, oblivious to how comfortable I have become to this routine thing.

Jack leads me down the hall and into the room where group is held. Mr. Corps smiles as I take my seat next to Victory. Her face lights up and my heart begins to beat fast. Her hand brushes mine and I feel as if my heart will explode. Her very existence is anything and everything I could ever need.

“So, today I thought we would start off by telling each other how we feel. I want you to tell everyone in the group the advances you have made by coming here.” Mr. Corps says. He looks around the room and his eyes rest on me. “Brent, why don't you go first.”

I know why he picked me, its not hard to tell. I have been the hardest one to deal with in this hell hole. I've never spoken up at group until Victory got here.

“Okay. Well, by coming here I have found happiness.” I glance at Victory. “I have found love. I've learned to deal with the cards I have been dealt, and to keep on living.” Mr. Corps stares at me for a moment, unable to comprehend my smile.

“Very good Brent.” He smiles. I look at Victory as he chooses his next victim.

“I really make you that happy?” She whispers. Her voice sounds delicious and sweet. Its high pitch tone and beautiful melody will forever ring in my head.

“Of course.” I reply. “Doesn't love do that to you?” A brilliant smile lights up her face and I want nothing more than to wrap her in my arms.

“Victory.” Mr. Corps says. “Why don't you go now?”

Victory shifts in her seat. “Okay. Well, um, since coming here I have learned a lot. I have learned that there are a lot of people like me, that, you know, tried to kill their selves. But I have also learned that all of these people here are totally and completely different from me. They all have their own problems, their own fears. But one thing that links us together is the desperation for love. We all want someone to love us and care for us. At least we want someone to notice us.”

“Very good Victory.” He says with a smile. “Very, very good.” I take Victory's hand and squeeze it.

“Your amazing.” I lean over and whisper to her. She blushes.

“Yeah well, amazing is hard to keep up with.” She replies. I chuckle and sit back in my seat, listening to everyone else so called “findings”. People mention the same things, often repeating what the person before them said. But no one came close to a perfect answer like Victory's.

Today is Wednesday which means that Victory and I will be able to leave this place for two hours. Jack and Mrs. May are taking us to the movies to see some romantic movie called “The Last Song”. Its supposed to teach us to value what we have. I'll probably fall asleep, but I'm glad I'm finally able to take Victory on a date, even if it is with staff and other prisoners.

“Very good today, guys.” Mr. Corpse says, bringing me back to reality. “You all have some interesting things that you have “found” by coming here. I want each and everyone of you to think about what was said here today. That's all. See you tomorrow!” Victory and I stand up, more than ready to leave. Jack and Mrs. May walk into the room and grab the few prisoners that are allowed to go to the movies. Victory, Tyler and I walk out into the hall. There are two more kids that I don't really know standing next to Jack.

“Now, before we go I want to address some rules that we have.” Mrs. May says. We all listen intently, wanting nothing more than to escape the walls of hell and experience the world we once knew. “You all have to have a buddy. No one is allowed to go to the bathroom or anywhere without a buddy or Jack or me. Secondly, you must stick with the group when we enter and exit the theater and van. No wondering off. Lastly, no one will be allowed to bring back anything to the hospital. Do I make myself clear?” We all nod. “Good, now lets go.”

They lead us down the hall and out of the building. As soon as my feet hit the cement sidewalk relief overcomes me. Finally, after 6 months in this hell of a place, I am able to step foot into the outside world. The sun beats on my face, warming my body instantly. I hear the sound of a bird chirping in the distance, calling out for its mate. Close by, a car speeds down the asphalt road. The sounds of nature ring into my ears until a more beautiful sound invades them.

“Wow, it feels great to finally be outside.” Victory whispers beside me. I squeeze her hand.

“I know.” I reply.

Jack leads us to the van and we all pile in. Tyler and another kid sit in the front row while Victory and I sit in the middle row. Some guy I don't know occupies the last row. Jack climbs into the drivers seat with Mrs. May sitting in the passenger seat. He pulls out of the parking lot and I watch my hell disappear.

Secrets Under A Sweatshirt

People say that when you start to hear voices your crazy. I don't think that's entirely true. Maybe the voices they hear are their conscience getting mixed in with voices of their peers. Maybe it's just voices they make up. Maybe society is wrong, and they aren't. But I do know that when you start to hear those voices, you will do anything and everything to make them stop shouting.


“Come on people, we don't have all day. Let's go.” Mrs. May says, directing us out of the van. Victory and I step out and grab hands. We wait for the others to pile out of the van.


“Okay, is everybody ready?” Jack asks. We all nod. “Okay then, let's get going.” He leads us into the theater and we stop at the ticket counter. He buys a ticket for each one of us, including himself and Mrs. May. Once our tickets are bought we head into the theater.


“Stay in this row.” Mrs. May says as we take our seats in the very back row. I grab Victory's hand and smile at her.


“Finally I get to take you on a date.” I say. She returns the smile.


“Yeah. I'm glad we were able to get out of that place.” She replies. I stare at her for a moment, taking in her beauty. The previews begin, signaling the movie is about to start. The lights go off and the screen lights up. That's when the voices start. That's when I begin to go crazy.


At first they are soft, barely a whisper. I blow it off as if it is just someone talking in a row below me. But then they begin to get louder until they are screaming at me. They are shouting, pleading for me to bleed. I close my eyes and mentally shake myself, trying to lodge them out of my head. That only makes them worse. My hands shake as I grip the arm rests beside me. Beads of sweat form on my forehead.


“Brent, are you okay?” Victory whispers beside me. I look at her and loosen my grip.


“Yeah, I'm fine. I just need to go to the bathroom, that's all.” I stand up and nudge Tyler beside me. “Come on, “buddy”, I need to take a piss.” He gives me a dirty look but stands up and we head out of the theater into the bathroom.


“Hurry up, the show is about to start.” He complains.


“Like you really wanna watch that chick flick?” I reply, unbuttoning my pants and pulling them down to pee.


“No, but its better than being in here the whole time.” I role my eyes.


“Then go back.” I say, pulling my pants up and buttoning them.


“But the rules-”


“I'm a big boy. I can take care of myself.” He shrugs and heads out of the bathroom. Once hes gone I head over to the sink and wash my hands. Then I splash water on my face as the voices begin again.


“What the hell is wrong with me?” I ask myself the same question I did when I first fell for Victory.


Just a little blood. It wont hurt you, promise. The voice rings in my head. I scream.


“Ugh! Stop it!” I hold my head and lean my back against the wall, sliding down to the floor. I rock back and forth, wanting nothing more than for the voices to go away.


Just one little cut. It will feel so good. The voice says. I open my eyes and begin to think. Cut. It wants me to cut myself. I had heard about people at my school doing it, but never actually thought about it. I heard that it helps. That is actually feels good. Maybe I should try it.


“What am I saying!” I shout. “I cant do something stupid like that!”


Yes you can. The voice responds as if we are having a conversation.


“Why do you want me to?” I shout back.


Because it will help you forget the things your father did to you. I stop and stare blankly. It will help me forget what my father did to me. I had tried my whole life to forget the horrifying images that were lodge in my brain, never moving. At night they would replay over and over again, with the occasional exception of Victory appearing.


Without thinking, I stand up and head over to the paper towel dispenser. With effort, I pull out the blade that tears the paper towels. I bend it until it brakes in half, throwing one half of it away. I look at myself in the mirror, blade in hand. I stop, resting the blade on my wrist.


“What am I doing?” I say to my reflection. Without giving the voices time to respond, the answer comes to me. I am forgetting. Slowly, I slide the blade along my forearm, leaving a thin line of blood behind. It only hurts for a second. The cut is two inches long and not deep at all. Once I'm done I close my eyes, letting the blood drip down the side of my forearm. Not only the blood is oozing from me, but so is the pain. Instantly, the voices are gone and so is the pain. I open my eyes and look down at my arm. Blood slithers down the sides of my forearm, showing the pain that was harboring inside me. I turn on the sink and clean off the blade and my arm. I wrap the blade up in paper towels securely and stuff it down my pants.

Just as I'm about to leave I hear footsteps entering the bathroom. “Brent?” Jack's voice calls. I quickly pull down the sleeve of my sweatshirt as he reaches me. “What are you doing without a buddy?” He asks.


“Tyler was with me, but he was complaining so I told him to leave.” I reply.


“I better not catch you in here alone again. Come on, the movie just started.” I nod and follow him out of the bathroom. We head into the theater and I take my seat next to Victory.


“are you okay?” She asks. “You were in there for a while.”


“Yeah, I'm fine.” I reply, taking her hand.


“Okay.” She replies. Worry is visible on her face. I put my first finger under her chin, holding it securely with my thumb.


“Babe, don't worry about me. As long as I have you I will be just fine.” She smiles her perfect smile.


“I love you, Brent.”


“And I love you, Victory.” I lean in and kiss her gently on the lips, what I did only moments ago lingering in the back of my mind. I can feel the scar burning as I pull away from her. My secrets are hidden under the sleeve of a sweatshirt.

Help

Crimson flows from my arm like a sea of blood flowing from a dead body. Red is all I see; pain is all I feel. But I know that the pain wont last long, and it will be replaced by emptiness. My mind will clear, and no haunting memories or horrifying images will replay in my mind.

Two light knocks on my door indicate it's time for breakfast. Jack opens my door and I stand up, following him into the hall. Our walk to the cafeteria is silent this morning, a lot of things on my mind. Its been four days since our trip to the movies and ever since then I have been cutting. I usually do it at night when I know no one will walk in. Victory has not a clue what goes on, and I plan on keeping it that way. Considering it is fall, it gives me an excuse to always wear a sweatshirt. No one questions me and I don't have to offer any answers.

I walk into the cafeteria and head to the line. I grab a tray and place a plate with eggs, bacon and sausage on it. I grab a carton of milk and head to an empty table in the back, the same table Victory and I first sat.

I begin to eat my eggs when a hand touches my shoulder. I look up to see Victory. A half smile touches her lips, not reaching her eyes. Something is wrong.

“Hi.” I say as she takes her seat across from me.

“Hi.” She replies softly. I watch as she looks at her eggs, deciding whether or not to take a bite. I continue eating, not taking my eyes off of her.

“What's wrong?” I finally ask as a long moment of silence passes.

“Nothing.” She replies simply, trying on a smile. I stare into her moss green eyes. They aren't bright like I have become so natural to seeing. They are empty and sad. A hint of fright lies deep within them.

I reach out and touch her hand. She recoils, slipping her hand under the table. She keeps her head down, not looking up to offer an explanation.

“Victory, what is wrong? Don't say it's nothing, because I know you.” The words come out rougher than I intend. She looks up at me, tears threatening to spill over.

“Brent, I...I'm...” She lets out a wale in frustration and buries her face in her hands. Slowly, I stand up and move to sit beside her. I wrap my arm around her and whisper in her ear.

“Victory, whatever it is, I'm here for you. It's going to be okay.” I kiss her lightly on the cheek. My gentle lips find hers and tears escape her eyes. She pulls away quickly and puts her head down. My heart breaks a little bit.

I place my hand under her chin, forcing her took look at me. “Victory...don't. Don't refuse to kiss me, please. I-I can't bare it.” She nods, wiping her eyes. I let my hand fall into her lap, grabbing a hold of her hand.

“I'm sorry. It's just...” She pauses, searching for what to say. “Uh, Mr. Corps got me, um, thinking about some things the other day in group. It kinda made me sad.” Her eyes hold everything but the truth. Her lips speak a lie.

Well, do you want to talk about it?” I ask, hoping she will unveil the truth.

“Not really, sorry. It's just something I have to deal with on my own.” Her eyes wonder from mine, holding a secret deep within them. I know she is lying, that there is something more than what she says. If she doesn't want to talk about it, fine. But I will find out.

I sigh and pull my tray over to me, tearing at a piece of bacon. Victory just stares down at her food, not daring to take a bite.

“You not hungry?” I ask.

“It just doesn't look appetizing.” She smiles a little bit and picks up her tray, heading over to the trash can.

I stare after her, looking for some physical sign of what is wrong. Nothing. Her body sways perfectly and her hair moves slightly as she walks. No physical harm has been done to my beautiful Victory. But if she hasnt harmed herself, like I do, then what could be wrong? What happend? Did a memory of her rapiest come to mind, or an image of her uncaring mother? This I dont know. But I will find out what is wrong, and I will help her.

Everyone needs help at some point in their lives. Wheater they are screaming from the inside or shouting on the outside, they are heard. My blade and the blood that flows from my arm silence the voice that has been screaming "help!" for seventeen years.

No Resolution

*Victory's Point Of View*


What's wrong with me; now that's a question even I would like to know the answer to. Nothing seems right anymore. Being here seems wrong. Having this...this “problem” seems not right. The one thing that does seem right, the one thing in my life that makes any sense is Brent. Even though everything is messed up right now, Brent is the only one I want to talk to, the only one who can help me.

I sit in my room and stare out the barred window. The sky is gray, signaling rain is on its way. Subconsciously, I place my hand on my stomach and begin to think.

My life has ever changed since I met Brent, and it will never change back. I don't want it to change back. However, our adventure last week has caused a serious issue that cannot be resolved. I'm not sure on what to do about the issue, but it can't be reasoned with until Brent and I are out of here.

Three months, I have three months left in here. Nobody must know about my “problem”. I don't even think Brent should know yet. The news would, possibly, ruin him. I can't ruin him, not while he's in here.

There is a faint knock on my door, and I know its Mrs. May coming to get me for therapy. She opens the door softly.

“Victory, its time for therapy.” I nod and stand up, following her out the door. Quietly, we head down the hall to Mr. Jordan's office. Mr. Jordan is one of three therapists here at Spring Hill. Mrs. Scarlett and Mr. Corps are the other two.

Mrs. May opens the door and I walk in. “Victory,” Mr. Jordan says,“take a seat.” I sit down in the gray, soft chair in front of his desk. He smiles and studies me. Mr. Jordan has short black hair that is spiked up in the front and teeth that are pearl white. His skin is an olive color and appears to be soft and smooth. His eyes, mesmerizing, are a dark and deep blue. He's not but twenty and very handsome.

“So, is there anything you would like to talk about?” He asks. Yes! I shout in my head. There is so much I have to say, but certainly can't.

“No.” I say, ignoring the voice in my head telling me to spit it all out.

“Okay. Well, lets start with Brent. I understand you two are getting close, correct?”

I blush and smile slightly. Every time someone mentions Brent, that's what happens. “Um, yeah, we are.”

“How close are you?” Close enough to cause problems, I think to myself. “Really close.” I offer.

He nods. “Tell me a little about your guys relationship.” He says, twirling his pen with his fingers.

“Well, there isn't much to tell.” I reply. “I...I think I love him.” Mr. Jordan nods and writes something down on his paper. My palms begin to sweat and I shift uncomfortably in my seat. What if he knows my secret? What if he figured it out? Would he tell? “Um, can I go now?” I ask, fidgeting with my fingers.

“But we just got started.” He replies, giving me a worried glance. “I know, but...” I stutter as I begin to stand up, heading for the door. “I-I have to go. I-I cant...” I trail off, running for the bathroom. I find a stall and throw up. I shake while kneeling next to the toilet, holding my hair back.

"No," I whisper, begining to cry. "No," I repeat again. I let my hair fall and rest my cheek against the cold tile floor. Everything becomes a blur as my eyes flutter shut.

Secrets Are Always Kept

People always keep secrets, wheater they promise not to or not. The people you love the most, the ones that you should share everything with, hide the most shocking secrets of all.

Victory is hiding a secret, I can feel it. She barely talks to me anymore and wont let me put my hands around her waist or touch her the slightest. I cant tell what it is, but I know its something.

I am laying on my bed, my hands behind my head when I hear voices. There are panic-filled voices shouting. I sit up in my bed and cock my head to one side as if that will help me here any better. They get closer and closer. I hear Jack's voice saying something to Mrs. May. Before I know it he is opening my door.

"Brent," He breathes, worry visible on his aged face. "Come, its Victory."

As soon as he says her name, Im off the bed and across the room. I follow him out the door and down the hall to the girl's bathroom. He puts his hand out and stops me before I enter the bathroom.

"Wait here," He orders.

"No! Victory is in there and she needs me! What's wrong with her?" The words are thick with acid, anger forming in my gut.

"She fainted, Brent. I just need to make sure Mrs. May will let you come in." He replies. I ignore him, the anger now boiling, and stride my way into the bathroom.

The scene that unfolds before my eyes shocks me. Victory is on the floor, vomit all around her. Her hair is a mess and her eyes are watery. Then I notice she is crying. Her lips are moving but I cant hear her words. I am too shocked to listen. That's when my ears start to work and I can hear her. She is screaming, shouting at me.

"Brent, g-get out of here! Y-you arent supposed to be in here! I-I dont want you to see me like this!" She studders, crying even more. Mrs. May keeps her arm tight against her shoulder, fearing she could black out any minute.

I walk over to Victory. Ignoring her protest, I sit down beside her, making sure to stay clear of the vomit on the other side of her.

"Victory, talk to me. What's wrong, what happend?" She looks away, ignoring my piercing eyes. I place my hands on either side of her face, forcing her to look at me. I see in her eyes sadness and an apology.

"I-I'm sorry Brent, so sorry." She burries her face in my chest as I wrap my arms around her. I stroke her back, holding her tight against my body. She shakes in my arms, her body weak and cold.

"I'll go get a blanket." Mrs. May says, standing up. She exits the bathroom.

Once she's gone I ask, "Victory, what's wrong?" She pulls away to look at me.

"I-I want to tell you but..." She trails off.

"But what?"

"But I cant." Her words spark anger. I am her boyfriend, shouldnt she be able to share everything with me? I love her, shouldnt she trust me?

"Victory, I love you. You can trust me." I try to make the words comforting, but they seem forced. She closes her eyes and shakes her head.

"I cant, I just cant." She chats over and over again. I want to shake her, to scream and yell at her. But instead I stand up and make my way to the exit.

"Brent!" She calls after me. I turn to look at her. "Where are you going?" She asks.

"Victory if you cant trust me enough with your secrets, I cant stay here and hold you. I cant comfort you when I dont know what it is you hide from. Im sorry, but I cant." I turn to leave when she says it. The sentence that escapes her lips sends chills through my body. That one sentence changes the whole corse of my life, changes the future forever.

"Im pregnant, Brent."

Surprise!

I stand there, stairing at Victory for what seems like ages. I notice the tears falling from her eyes, study the way her body shakes. My eyes linger to her stomach. She's not showing. Why would she be, she's only two weeks pregnant.

Her words begin to register in my mind, and thats when I realize it. Im going to be a father. My baby, our baby is living inside of the love of my life.

"A-arent you going to say something?" She stutters, looking at me. Her eyes, her beautiful, moss green eyes have gone cold. They dont sparkle, dont shine. They are just empty pits of sadness. My heartbreaks and at that moment, I make a promise to myself that I will never, never make her sad.

"Victory, I-I dont know what to say." I admit, walking towards her. My steps are small, as if Im approching a frightend rabbit. Once I reach her I sit down next to her and pull her into my arms. She gives in easily, resting her head on my shoulder and crying once more.

"Neither do I Brent. I wasnt going to tell you. I-I didnt want to ruin your life." She says. I take her chin and pull her head up to where she is looking at me.

"Why would it ruin my life?" I ask, surprised that she would think that.

"Because your life is already crazy, you dont need to throw a baby in the mix." I sigh and kiss her lightly on the lips.

"My life was already fucked up. You can only make it better." I pull her back into my arms and burry my face in her hair.

"So your not mad?"

"No! Of course not. Sure, I dont really want to have a baby. Im fucked up. A baby doesnt need to be around me. But I wont take back what we did to create that baby." She looks up into my eyes.

"I love you Brent."

"And I love you too, Victory." I bend down and kiss her gently. Mrs. May walks in and Victory jumps out of my arms.

"Here you go sweetheart. Place this rag on your forehead, it will help calm you down." She says, handing Victory a washrag.

I stand up. "Um, Mrs May, I think that Victory should go to the doctor and get a test-"

"No no! Im fine, promise. I just got a little light headed." Victory interrupts me. She eyes me, telling me Mrs. May doesnt know anything about us multiplying.

"are you sure Victory? I think Brent is right-"

"Im positive. See," She stands up, "all better."

Mrs. May eyes her, definitely wondering if she was faking it the whole time. "Well okay. Brent, Ill go get Jack and have him take you back to your room, and then I will come for you, Victory." I nod and then she exits the bathroom once again.

"Brent, she doesnt know about the baby." Victory states.

"I figured. Why didnt you tell her? You need to go to the doctory Victory." I reply.

"I know. But if I tell her, they will definitely send me home, send me away from you." Sadness layers her words. My eyes find tears but I hold them back. If Victory left, I would too. I would do everything in my power to get back to her. I couldnt live in a world without her.

"Okay, dont tell. We...we will figure this out on our own. I mean, we sure made that baby on our own."

Victory smiles slightly and I wrap her in my arms. I kiss her forehead.

I am going to be a father. Poor baby, we cant pick our parents. I feel bad that it got stuck with a fuck up as a father, and had to be concieved in a mental hospital. If I would have killed myself like planned, I wouldnt have made the mistake of concieving a child.

Who Am I

Father. Now that's something I've never known the definition of. What exactly is a father? What do they do for their children, their loved ones? What makes a good father? I never really had a father. Sure, John claimed he was, but all he was to me was a sperm donner. He was never there for me, never cared about me. He couldn't even love my mom and I right. He was a failure, and now I'm in his position. I am going to be a father. But, unlike him, I swear on everything, I will be a good father.

“Brent, what's on your mind?” Mrs. Scarlett asks as I stare out the window. I pull my gaze from the bright blue sky back to Mrs. Scarlett.

“Stuff,” I offer, knowing I am unable to tell Victory's secret. After all, its not mine to tell.

“Brent, I thought we already went over this. You can talk to me, you know?” She taps her pen on the table as the silence grows, becoming impatient.

I finally speak up, becoming annoyed by her presence. “My dad was never really a good father.” I say, changing the subject from my dark secrets.

“How so, Brent?”

“He was a failure. He couldn't even love my mom and I right. But I'm going to be a great father. I'm going to love my kid with every bone in my body. I will never ignore them and I will never, never hit them.” Mrs. Scarlett nods.

“I know you wont, Brent. You will make a great father. you are a good boy.” I stare at her, her words sinking in. you are a good boy.

“H-how could you say that?” I ask, becoming angry.

“Say what?” She looks confused.

“Say that I'm a good boy. How could you say I'm a good boy?” I stare into her eyes, anger boiling.

She notices something in my eyes, something that frightens her. She rolls her chair back a little bit. “Because you are Brent.” She whispers.

I close my eyes and slam my fists on the desk. “No, Kathy, I'm not!” I shout. I open my eyes, a sly smile forming on my lips. “You really don't get it, do you? I am not a good boy. Good boys don't try to kill their selves. Good boys don't get their girlfriends knocked up. Good boys aren't crazy.” My eyes are wild and dark. The way she cowers in her chair, scared of me, brings me pleasure. I laugh mockingly and stand up, walking over to the door.

“You shouldn't be scared, Kathy, I haven't figured out how to kill yet.” I chuckle and exit the room, walking down the hall. Jack is standing next to the door as I exit the room, and he quickly follows behind me.

“She didn't say the session is over.” He says.

“I did. After all, I am the patient.” I reply. We walk silently back to my room. I enter and Jack shuts and locks the door behind me. As soon as I hear his footsteps walk down the hall, I go over to my dresser. I retrieve the blade from my bottom drawer and the bloody shirt. I walk back over to my bed.

Like I have done so many times before,I place the tip of the blade by my wrist and slide it up my arm to the crook of my elbow, blood sliding down the side of my forearm. As soon as the blood rushes from my body, I feel better. The anger that had boiled up inside me was let free in the flow of my crimson blood.

I clean off the blade and the blood on my forearm, stuffing the blade back in my bottom drawer. I lay down on my bed and stare up at the ceiling, what just happened all but forgotten.

I think about Victory and our baby. I think about how I am going to be a father. I am going to be the best father there is, and not like my so called “father”.

I sigh and close my eyes, falling deeper and deeper into empty blackness. I am in dream land when a hand grabs my arm. I jolt awake, my eyes opening frightfully.

Jack and Mrs. Scarlett are standing on either side of me, their faces laced with concern.

“Brent,” Mrs. Scarlett says softy. “Did you do that?” She points the the long, freshly made scar on my arm. I begin to panic, searching my tampered brain for something to say. My eyes search her face, looking for some sort of weakness.

“No,” I reply, confidence in my voice, “I didn't.” She looks at me, not believing the words that escape my lips.

“Brent, just tell the truth.” She says. Jack keeps looking at the scar and back to my face, silent.

“Mrs. Scarlett, I didn't do it purposefully. In the cafeteria I bumped into the edge of one of the tables. I cut my arm pretty bad as you can see.”

I sit up in my bed, displaying my arm for all to see. She studies my face, contemplating weather or not to believe me. I turn to Jack, knowing I could convince my only friend in here.

“Jack, you believe me don't you? You know I would never lie.” My eyes are sincere and my voice apologetic. He clears his throat and looks from me to Mrs. Scarlett.

“He wouldn't lie, Mrs. Scarlett. I know Brent, have been with him since he got here six months ago.” Jack says.

Yes, he will get her to believe me! No one can ever know about my little secret or they will lock me away longer.

“Okay, I guess that is logical.” She says. Yes!

“Of course it is Mrs. Scarlett.” I reply.

She nods. “Okay, well it is time for group therapy. Jack will take you there.” She walks out of my room and closes the door behind her.

I stand up and walk to the door, Jack doesn't move. “Well,” I say, “are you coming?” He stares at me for a moment.

“You made that cut on your arm.” It's not a question, but a statement.

“But you told Mrs. Scarlett-”

“I told her that I know Brent, and he would never lie. you are not Brent.” He walks past me and opens the door. I follow him out. The hallway is silent, which gives me too much time to go over what he said.

you are not Brent. How am I not Brent? That is my birth given name, is it not? That is what I am called, that is who I have always been. So why does Jack say that I am not Brent? How could this conclusion be?

I walk into the therapy room, not saying another word to Jack. He knows my secret, and I have a feeling he will keep it. But the more important question is, how am I not me?

I take my seat next to Victory and offer a half smile. I am too busy debating inside my head to start a conversation. Mr. Corpse jumps right in to today's session as soon as everyone is seated.

“Since all of you are going to be released soon, I thought we could go over what your plans are for when you get out. Tyler, let's start with you.”

“Um, okay. Well, I was planning on...” Tyler goes into detail about his useless plans while I still struggle to comprehend what, exactly, Jack meant.

I am Brent Lucas Skyes, I always have been. I am a psycho path, a crazy person. I tried to kill myself once and ended up here in hell. I started cutting myself to ease the pain and stop the horrifying memories my so- called “father” left me with. That is who I am, that is who I will always be.

“Brent,” Mr. Corpse says, pulling me out of my debate, “would you like to share your plans?” I notice everyone is staring at me. I shrug.

“I guess.” I reply. I am about to speak when I realize, I don't have any plans. I don't know what I am going to do with my life. I look at Victory. Her eyes are gazing upon my face in an admirable fashion. Right there, in her eyes, I see my future. “I plan on raising a child,” I say, my eyes resting upon Victory's face. “I plan on having a family and being an amazing father to my child.” Victory smiles and her eyes tear up a bit. I tear my eyes from her face to look at Mr. Corpse.

Everyone in the room, including Mr. Corpse is staring at me. Their expressions show shock. They obviously weren't expecting that answer. Right then, looking upon their shocked faces, I realize what Jack meant.

I am not Brent anymore. The me I used to be didn't care what other people thought. I gave them me, and if they didn't like it, I told them to fuck off. But this Brent, the one I am now, is a lair and a manipulator. I have learned to lie and hide things, even though I was so good at it before. This Brent that I am now, is my father.

The Monster I Hide

Death is a promise, but your life is a fucking lie. My favorite band, Bring Me the Horizon, sang those very words in a song of theirs. My life is that of a ie. Everything I once knew, everything I once stood for has vanished from my soul. I have become the very monster I strive to forget: my father.

My whole life I have tried to be better, tried to succeed, something my father never did. I was a football star, a straight A student. I was a ladies man, someone everyone wanted to be. Now I am a cutter, a suicidal freak. Now I am my father.

I sit in my chair at group, this new realization hitting me hard.

"Brent, Brent," Victory whispers my name beside me. I dont reply. Instead my eyes drift across the room at the pairs of beating eyes that are upon my face.

"Brent," Mr. Corpse says. "are you okay?" I rest my gaze on his face, taking in his worried expression.

How can I possibly be okay when I just realized the monster that haunted my dreams is now me? How can I possibly go on when I just realized that I will never be more than a carbon copy of my father?

"I-I," I stutter a response, not knowing what to say. Am I okay? Am I really fine with what I have become? No. I will never be.

"C-can I step out for a moment? I need a minute to breathe." I say, rubbing my hands on my pants, suddenly sweating.

"Sure Brent. Just stay in this hallway." Mr. Corps replies, noticing my change in attitude. I nod and stand up, exiting the room. I place my head against the wall in the hallway, closing my eyes. A few seconds pass and I hear footsteps in the hallway. They come closer until she is standing next to me.

"Brent, are you okay?" Victory's delicious voice slithers into my ears. I open my eyes to stare at her worried expression.

I open my mouth to tell her Im fine and not to worry, but I stop myself. I will not lie to her.

"No," I reply. "Im not okay." She stares at me, waiting for more. "Victory I...Im just like my father." I whisper.

She shakes her head firmly. "No you are not Brent. you are nothing like him." For some reason I become angry with her response.

"Im not like him Victory? Really? You dont even know him, so how could you say that?" I begin to yell, the words flowing like acid from my lips. "He was a monster and so am I! Look at me Victory, Im not the same guy I was when we first met. Im a liar, a manipulator." I inch closer to her, my face inches away from hers. "I can make you think things you would never believe to be true." She staggers back a step, frightend. "See what I mean!" I shout, throwing my hands in the air. "Your scared of me."

She shakes her head, trying to calm herself. I notice her shaking hands. "Brent, Im not scared of you." She whispers.

"Oh really Victory?" She nods. I ball my hand into a fist, determind to show her just how dangerous I can be. With one swift movement I rear back my hand and punch the bare white wall, causing a hole to be left in its wake."Now are you scared?" I shout. Her expression crumbles and she begins to cry.

"Brent, stop. Dont do this!" She shouts between falling tears. My eyes widen. What have I done? I love Victory with everything bone in my body, with every fiber of my being. How could I do this to someone I love?

Tears begin to fall from my sadend eyes as I run down the hall to my room. I open the door swiftly, shoving myself inside. I hurry over to my dresser and pull out my blade, this time leaving the blood-stained rag behind. I wont be needing it.

I look at the silver blade, turning it in my hands. "Im so sorry Victory," I whisper. "I wont hurt you ever again." Slowly, I raise the blade to my neck and make one deep cut ear to ear. I fall to the ground, blood flowing from the gash in my neck. My eyes begin to close, darkness enclosing me. This is what I deserve. This is how I should die.

Lots of Blood

*Victory POV*


“Brent!” I shout, calling after him as he runs down the hall. Tears fall down his cheeks as he ignores me. What is wrong with him? What had I done to cause such a sudden outburst? I wipe away the falling tears and return to group.

“Where is Brent?” Mr. Corps asks.

“He ran down the hall,” I reply. “I think he went to his room.” Mr. Corps stands up abruptly.

“Jack!” He calls out. Jack enters the room within moments. “Get Mrs. May and tell her to come here and watch these kids. We need to go get Brent.”

Jack nods and exits the room. I start to breathe heavy. Why is Brent going to his room such a big deal? What could he possibly do in there? A few minutes pass and then Mrs. May is walking into the room. Mr. Corps and Jack run out of the room and down the hall. I can't stay here. I have to go with them, I have to see if Brent is alright.

I run out of the room, ignoring Mrs. May screaming my name. I hurry down the hall, each step bringing me closer to Brent. Once I finally reach his room the door is wide open and the scene in front of me leaves me gasping for air. I stumble to the floor, tears flowing from my eyes.

Brent is laying on the floor with a puddle of blood beneath him. There is a long, deep gash on his neck and a bloody blade lying beside him on the ground. His eyes are closed and his body isn't moving. He doesn't appear to be breathing either.

“No!” I shout, reaching out towards Brent's lifeless body. “Brent!” I shout again. Jack stands up and grabs a hold of me as I try to get closer to my dead lover.

“Go on, Ms. Victory.” Jack whispers to me.

“No! Jack I-I cant! Is he...is he dead?” I look up into Jack's eyes and that is all the confirmation I need. The tears that harbor in his blackened eyes tell me Brent...is...dead. “No!” I let out a painful and loud cry, running over to Brent's body. I kneel down beside him, throwing my arms around him. I am drenched in his blood, but it matters not to me. I kiss his cheek and rest my head in the crook of his neck.

“Brent,” I whisper between tears. “Brent, please, you can't leave me. Y-you just can't. What about the baby? What about us? Brent I love you. I love you more than anything. Anything, do you hear me? you are my everything, the reason I breathe. Without you I-I might as well die too.” There is no response, no movement beneath me. I guess I never expected him to respond, I only hoped he would.

“Ms. Victory, you must go.” Jack says softly. I don't let go of Brent, don't stop crying either. I can't bring myself to leave his lifeless body. If I did, that would mean he really is dead. That would mean that he wouldn't stand up, wouldn't kiss me again, and I would never again see his soft brown eyes. If I stand up, I would be admiting I lost him forever.

“I-I can't Jack.” I say, not lifting my head up from Brent's chest. “I can't leave him.” Jack seems to understand. He sits on Brent's bed, allowing me to hold him until the paramedics come.

When the paramedics finally arrive they pry me from Brent's lifeless body, one holding me as I cry. I watch as they lift Brent onto a stretcher and hurry him out of the room, not wanting to admit all hope is lost.

“He...he's really gone.” I whisper to Jack as I sit down on Brent's bed. I begin to cry harder than ever before, realizing he really is gone. He's not going to walk back in the room and laugh, saying it was all a joke. This isn't a joke. Brent is really dead.

I have spent my whole life trying to find my purpose. I always thought love was just something they talked about in books and movies. My mother claimed to love me, but she didn't really. My father didn't love me either. I didn't know what love truly was until I walked through the doors of Spring Hill Mental Hospital and met Brent Skyes. He showed me love, passion, and kindness. He helped me through everything, saying he'd be with me until the end. Now he is gone. The only thing left of him is our child. I don't know how I will make it through this. It is better to learn someone never loved you, than to loose the only person who did.

I Am Here, But What Has Become of Her?

We have all thought about killing ourselves, wonderd what it would be like. Everyone has looked at the knife in the kitchen or the gun in their bed side table and wondered if they would be missed. I knew that Victory and mom would miss me dearly. I knew they would cry and grieve, but I had to do it. I guess someone out there didnt think it was my time, even when I tried so desperately to make it be.

Your a very luck man people would tell me. God must love you. I dont think it was God who saved me. I just think Satan didnt have enough room for me.

After I was taken the the hospital I begged the doctor not to save me. I told him there were other people much more worthy of life than I. He didnt listen. Instead, he saved my life.

I spent a few days in the hospital and was released. Not to Spring Hill, however. They sent me home. It was decided that time in the real world would hlep me heal and make me less crazy. So, three days after attempting to take my own life, I was sent home.

Before leaving the hospital I had asked to see Victory. Doctors and mom had insisted it was not a good idea. I had fought and argued, but never got to see her. I had told the doctor who saved my life, Dr. Roseburg, to call Spring Hill. I asked him to let Victory know I was alright, tell her I was alive. I can only hope he did.

Now, two months after my second suicide attempt, I am about to start my senior year of high school. I had begged my mom to let me start school again. I thought it would help me get over the fact that I havent seen Victory since that fatal day. I tried calling her, but they dont allow patients to take phone calls. I had asked to go see her, but was denied permission. Many times I tried to sneak out, only to be stopped my by "father" holding a baseball bat. Once I dared him to hit me, thought he was too much of a coward. I walked back to my room with welps on my back and bruised ribs.

Many nights I have spent crying myself to sleep, wondering what Victory is doing. I wonder if she is alright, wonder if she knows that I am still alive. I also wonder about our baby. I wonder how big her stomach is, and if she still throws up. Will I ever see her or our child? How will I know when she is released from Spring Hill, and how will I find her? These questions haunt me as I toss and turn every night.

Seeing Victory is the only thing that keeps me alive. The hope that she still loves me and the hope of seeing her and our baby is the only thing that keeps me from cutting, the only thing that makes me want to get better. I know that I will do everything in my power to find her. I know that once I do, I wont ever let her go. I love Victory with everything I know. I never knew what love was growing up, it was never exhibitied in my household. But everyday that I was with Victory, she showed me what love was. I just hope that I can be shown that once more.

He's Still Gone

*Victorys Point Of View*

Brent is gone. He has been gone for two months. I have missed him so much, and its still hard for me to walk past his now occupied room. The boy who now stays in his room doesn’t deserve it. He is nothing like Brent, doesn’t have his kind heart or keen since of humor. I don't talk to him, don't even dare look at him. For if I do, I'm afraid I will break down.

Ever since that fatal day that Brent died, I have done nothing but think about him. Every time I throw up due to morning sickness, he is on my mind. Every time I walk into to group and take my seat, I stare at the empty chair beside me, wishing he would walk through the door and sit next to me, smiling warmly as he always did. But that will never happen. I know that he will never sit next to me in the cafeteria, or pass me in the hallway. I know that he will never smile at me, and I will never hear his hello again. Brent is gone forever, and there is nothing I can do about it.

“Victory,” Mr. Corps says. I reluctantly look up and notice several pairs of eyes resting upon my face. “Would you like to share?”

“Share what?” I ask.

“Well, since you guys only have a few weeks left in here, I thought we could all share our best memories from Spring Hill.” He smiles softly, waiting for my reply.

I don't answer his question. I know exactly what my best memory is, but I don't dare say his name. I haven't spoken his name since he died, and I'm not about to say it now. I know that if I do, it will only cause pain. I know if I say his name, I will break down, admitting that he really is gone.

I stare at Mr. Corps who is still waiting for my reply. I take a deep breath, tears threatening to spill over the brinks of my eyes. “I-I,” I stutter, searching through my brain for an answer. I can't speak, don't know what to say. Instead I sit there and cry my heart out, tears streaming down my flushed cheeks.

“Victory,” Mr. Corps says, walking over to me. He kneels down in front of me and looks up into my tearful green eyes. “are you okay?” He asks.

I shake my head no, refusing to speak. He looks at my expression and understands at once the cause of my sorrow-filled tears. His eyes fill with tears but he quickly composes his self before turning back to the group.

I close my eyes and will my tears to stop, but they don't. Within the black of my closed eyes I can see him. I see his soft brown hair, his chocolate brown eyes and his warm smile. He mouths the words I love you, and then he is gone.

My eyes fly open, and I notice everyone is talking, ignoring me completely. They have become used to my tears, seen them many times before. I leap from my chair and exit the room, running into the hall. I lean against the wall and slide to the floor, burring my face in my knees. Silently I sob to myself, memories of Brent flashing through my untampered memory.

Mr. Corps doesn't follow me into the hall. He did the first few times after his death, but he has become accustomed to my sudden outbursts of sorrow. Instead, I can hear him talking to the group, acting as if I had never even been there in the first place.

I place my hand on my stomach. I am starting to show a little baby bump, but nothing I am worried about. I will be out of here in a month anyway.

I wish I could get out of here sooner, I wish I could see the world. Being in here is a constant reminder of him. Every time I walk down the hall, every time I eat supper, every time I lay in my bed, I think of him. Maybe ending his life was a way out of it all, and a stupid move. But I am starting to think the only way to end all of this pain is to end myself too.

I Am Back

*Brent's Point Of View*

Spring Hill was filled with crazies. Psychos walked the halls, stared at you during breakfast, lunch and dinner, and screamed as you tried to sleep. You felt like dying just being around them; listening to their fucked up life stories, forced to hear the sick ways of their twisted minds. Everyone thinks that high school is a horrible ride that we are pushed on, forced to ride the roller coaster. But a mental hospital is worse. There are no cheerleaders to help you get laid, no jocks to watch your back as you beat up a freak, and no one to save you from that voice inside your head. No one to save you as the demons begin to scream and shout, begging you to make one more deep gash to bleed out and end your life. No one to save you from yourself.

Today I start high school, begin to ride that roller coaster once more. Everyone says your senior year is the best, but no one has been through what I have. I am sure everyone knows by now where I have been, and the story of how I turned crazy. Sure, there will be deformed definitions of the truth, ending with me dying. But I will set the record straight, deny my psycho status.

As I get ready I stare out my huge window. The sky is a bright blue, the clouds fluffy and white. I can only imagine what Victory is thinking, what she is seeing at this very moment. Thinking about Victory causes an ache in my chest. I can feel the blood pumping through the veins in my arm. I want desperately to grab a knife and begin to cut, allowing the crimson to flow from the confinement of blue veins.

I stop, shaking myself mentally before I do something I will regret. I sigh and slip my red t-shirt over my head and grab my back pack. I head downstairs, ready to get the show on the road.

Dad is gone for work and mom is in the kitchen, fixing a cup of coffee. “Hey honey,” She says as I enter the kitchen. “You excited for you first day back?”

Let's see, how do I answer her? My last year of high school should be a breeze, and I'm pumped to see all my friends again. But on the other hand I miss Victory terribly. I wish she were here with me, sharing the same experience.

“Yeah, I guess so.” I mumble, grabbing the keys off the counter and heading towards the door.

“Brent,” My mom calls after me. I turn around and look at her. Her expression is wise, and her eyes are serious. “Everything is going to be okay. I'm here if you need someone to talk to, you know that.”

“I know that mom.” I reply.

“Just, be careful.” I nod, knowing exactly what she means. She wants me to come home, alive. I head out to the car and embrace myself for the roller coaster I am about to ride once more.

High school for me was always a party. I was never a loner, never left out. I was invited to all the parties, had a date to every dance. I was the guy everyone wanted to be, the one every girl wanted to get their hands on. Now, I dont know what I am. The freak who tried to kill his self? The psycotic football star and basketball team captain? The guy who used to be hot, but has just become crazy? One can only hope none of those are my title.

I pull into the school parking lot and park my red mustang in my familar spot. I turn off the engine and sit there for a moment. Never in my life have I been nervous for anything. I have always went on to the court with confidence, charged the field determind to get a touch down. I will not allow myself to be nervous now. I take a deep breath, grab my bag from the passenger seat and step out onto the concrete of the parking lot.

Nobody seems to notice me as I stare at all of Mound High's student body. I sling my backpack over my shoulder, suddenly feeling confident. With my head held high I make my way towards the main entrance.

I hear whispers of people behind me, noticing me for the first time. I ignore them as I head towards the office. The secriatry, Mrs. Keith, looks up as I approach her.

"Hi, um I am returning here this year. I need my schedule." I say politly. She stares at me for a moment, boggled.

"Of-of course." She plants a fake smile on her face as she searches her computer for my schedule. I know what she is thinking. She is wondering how psychotic I have become since my depature last year. She wonders if I will try to kill her too since I so obviously faild at trying to kill myself.

I laugh quietly to myself as she stands from her chair and walks over to the printer. She grabs a piece of paper and hands it to me.

"Here is your schedule. I am sure you will have no problem finding your classes." She smiles.

"Thank you," I nod as I make my way to the door.

"Uh, Brent," She says. "Welcome back." I nod.

"Thanks," I say before heading out the door. I look down at my schedule. Trig, German III, Goverment, Study Hall, English, Pyshics II, and Gym. This year should be fun.

I sigh and head to my old locker, remembering the combination well. I grab my binder and pencil out of my bag before placing it in my locker. As I shut my door a girl walks up to me.

"People said you would be coming back. I didnt believe them." Cera Watts. Cera and I messed around junior year. She was never my girlfriend, just a booty call. Cera was pretty. She had light blonde hair and a killer body. Her boobs were huge and her waist was little, just the way I like them. She had a fine ass that looked even better without clothes. The best thing about Cera was that she was a freak in bed. I loved it.

"Cera, havent seen you in a while." I smirk.

"Did you really try to kill yourself Brent?" She cuts right to the chase. I guess this is what I expected. I shrug.

"Hasnt everybody?" I begin to walk towards Mr. Howards trig class. Cera follows close behind.

"Why'd you do it? I mean, your life is perfect, isnt it?" I choke down anger, clinching my fists.

"Not really Cera." I reply between clentched teeth. "Not really."

"Come on Brent. You were the football star, captain of the basketball team. You could have any girl you want. Hell, you banged me." I laugh, my old ways coming back as I walk these familar halls.

"You were a nice bang, Cera." I say, looking down at her ass. She smirks.

"You were amazing. Always knew how to preform."

"Yeah, I did didnt I?" My turn to smirk. She blocks my way before I head into Mr. Howards class.

"Your still pretty hot." She says, running her hand up my leg, lingering just below my most sensitive spot. "What do you say Brent, one more for old times sake?" The words escape my lips before I have time to think.

"Why not sexy? My car still has lots of leg room." She leans up and kisses my lips.

"See you at lunch." She breathes before making her way down the hall.

Victory doesnt cross my mind at all during lunch as Cera and I head to my car. Her image doesnt enter my mind as I slip Cera's pink panties off. Her voice doesnt touch my memory as I slowly slip inside, feeling better than ever. The only thing on my mind as Cera screams my name is: I am back.

Bad Boy Reputation

*Brent's Point Of View*

All of my four years of high school I have gotten the "bad boy" reputation. Not the kind of bad boy you see in movies who wears leather jackets, smokes, and doesnt give a fuck. Im the popular kind. The jerk football star, overrated basketball captain, great lay hottie. Lets face it, girls wanna fuck me, guys wanna be me. Its that simple.

I stare at Cera as she pulls her panties on, admiring her long, tan legs. She smiles and leans over to kiss me as I rest my hand on her leg.

"I had a great time." She said, reajusting her bra. "Funest lunch Ive had in a while."

I smirk. "Well I am the best." We get out of the car and her green eyes stare at mine as we walk towards the main entrance. They remind me of someone. They dont sparkle like hers, but are a darker green. They remind me of...Victory. As soon as I think her name I stop abruptly.

"what's wrong?" Cera asks.

"We...we just had sex." I reply.

"Yeah, and it was amazing." She smiles and grabs my hand. I shake her away.

"No you dont understand, I have a girlfriend."

"Come on, its not like this is the first time you have cheated on a chick. Calm down." She rolls her eyes.

"I have been dating Victory for four months." Her eyes widen.

"What? The longest you have ever dated anyone was a week." I nod.

"God, what have I done? I cant believe I let you talk me into having sex! Im such a fucking dumbass!" I shout, throwing my hands up over my head.

"Come on, you cant be that serious about her. She must be pretty good in bed for you to still be with her."

"Cera, shes having my baby. I love her." She looks at me with a shocked expression.

"Wow, thats something I didnt expect." I nod. "Well I wont tell if you dont. That way we can continue having sex." She smiles a sexy grin.

"Did you not just hear what I said? I love her! Im not going to have sex with anyone!"

"Ha sure. Brent the bad boy not have sex? Thats like asking Briteny Spears to wear underwear, not gonna happen." I clentch my fists at my side.

"Yes it will." I reply through clentched teeth.

"Whatever Brent, you screwed up. Chances are you will do it again." Her words trigger old memories.

I am five sitting at the kitchen table drawing a picture. My dad walks in the door from work and I run over to him.

"Daddy! Daddy! Look what I drew!" He takes the picture out of my hands and studies my badly drawn rocket ship. "I want to be an astronaut!" I chim.

His cold eyes find mine, and I see nothing but black. "Your too much of a screw up to be an astronaut." He replies, tearing my paper into tiny pieces.

The memory comes and goes, but the anger still lingers. I grab Cera's arm as she begins to walk away. I pull her body close to mine and whisper in her ear.

"Make one more move and your dead."

Freedom is Nothing Without You

*Victory's Point Of View*

Define freedom. Webster's dictionary defines freedom as "the state of being free; exemption from the power and control of another liberty." Freedom to me is being with the one you love without the chains of the world holding you back. The bars of this Psychiatric Hospital keep me chained inside myself, not allowing me to break free of the crazy that lives deep within, hiding under my flesh. I tried to escape, tried to leave behind this sick, masochistic image of a girl I thought I knew. Nothing can ever shatter this mirror image, break my mask and unveil the me everyone is so desperatly searching for. Nothing except death.

"Victory," Mrs. May says, opening my door. "It is time to see Mr. Jordan." I stand up silently, following her out the door. With a somber expression, Mrs. May and I walk down the hall to Mr. Jordan's office. The door opens with a whisper, and I enter without enthusiasum. I take my seat like always.

"Victory, nice to see you again. How have you been holding up?" Mr. Jordan asks with a huge smile on his face. I stare at him.

"Fine I guess. How would you feel if the love of your life commited suicide and you watched them die right before your eyes?" I reply coldly. He clears his throat and leans forward on his desk.

"Look, Victory, I know Brent's death has been hard on you. It has been hard on all of us. But you have got to learn to let go. You cant keep dwelling on what could of been. Dont cry because its over, smile because it happend." Classic Mr. Jordan, throwing in a Dr. Suess quote.

"Its easier said than done. Can we just get on with it?"

He leans back in his chair. "Yes, I suppose we can. Victory, tomorrow you will be released from Spring Hill. It is manditory to have a psychiatric evaluation the day prior to your leave. Now, I have a few questions for you to answer and then we will be done here. Answer them honestly please."

I nod my head, understanding every word. "First question: have you had any suicidal thoughts recently?"

Yes. "No." I reply. He writes on a piece of paper.

"Have you heard any voices in your head?"

Just the evil side of me. "None at all."

"Has Spring Hill helped you any at all with your disease?"

Ha, thats a joke. "Yes, definitely."

"Do you feel comfortable being released?"

Hell no. I am terrified. "I feel very comfortable. I think I am ready."

"Do you agree to see a therapist once a week after being released?"

No, that will only make me crazier. "Yes."

"Well Victory, thank you for answering these questions." Mr. Jordan says, shuffling through papers. "Let's see, it says here that you will be released at 10:00 am tomorrow morning. Your mother will be picking you up. are you comfortable with her escorting you home?"

No. Fuck her. "Yes, I am comfortable with my mother." I reply.

"Okay, everything seems to be in order. Do you have any final questions? This will be our last session."

Yes. How do I kill myself? "No, none at all. Thank you so much Mr. Jordan for all of your help. You have really helped me turn my life around." He smiles big and I plant a fake smile on my lips. I shake his hand and then exit the room.

Quietly, I am escorted back to my room. I lay on my bed, placing my hand over my stomach. The only thing I have left that is even close to Brent is our baby. In seven months this little baby will enter this world without a father, only a mother to care for it.

A silent tear falls from my eyes as the thought occurs to me.

Tomorrow I will be free from this place. I will be able to eat what I want, go where I want and do what I want. But freedom is nothing without Brent.

Mine Again

“Brent, you’re scaring me.” Cera complains. I chuckle, her fear causing a certain side of me to rise again.

“Don’t flatter me, Cera. Just do what I say.” I reply. I grip her arm tighter. Slowly, I bend down and whisper in her ear. “You will not tell anyone about our little adventure today, got that?” She nods her head vigorously. “Good, now head to lunch.” I let go of her arm and she walks quickly towards the school.

I laugh to myself as I keep a distance behind her, walking towards the main doors. I am back. Granted, psycho Brent is still there, waiting to be unleashed and let loose to roam the halls. But for now I keep him tucked inside, waiting to pounce.

I make my way to my locker, thinking about the day’s advents. I had just had sex with a complete whore, not once thinking about my beautiful Victory locked away with crazies and psychos, no doubt losing herself. How could I do that? I loved her, didn’t I? So why, then, did I let myself go and fuck some chick part of my old life? What was wrong with me? I know, I am suicidal, demented, and completely full of evil. I can do dangerous things when I allow that part of myself to be let loose. Only Victory can tame the beast that lies within. Where is she? How is she? What is she doing at this moment? I can only wonder.

________________________________________

“Brent!” My mom yells. I grab my pillow and place it over my face, trying to drown out the annoyance of her voice. “Brent! you are going to be late for school if you don’t get up right now!” I jolt up and look at my clock. It is 7:05. I forgot all about school, and that I had to wake up for it. Quickly, I head over to my closet and grab a pair of blue jeans and a black t-shirt. I throw on my clothes and head downstairs.

“Finally,” my dad says, sitting at the kitchen table. “I thought you were dead.” I chance a look into his eyes and see the evil in them. He really did hope I was dead.

“Brent, do you want some breakfast honey? I fixed pancakes.” My mom asks, standing by the stove.

“No thanks mom, I better get to school.” I reply, slipping on my Nike tennis shoes. “I don’t want to be late.” I throw my back pack over my shoulder, grab my keys and kiss mom on the cheek. “I love you.” Without so much as a glance in my father’s direction, I head out the door.

On my way to school, I think about Cera. I wonder if she told anybody about our “reunion” or about my excessive force. For a moment I am sorry, and then as I pull into the parking lot I see her smug face. All remorse vanishes as I turn off the engine and get out of the car.

“Hey Brent,” she calls with a fake smile. I can see fear in her eyes, so I plant a smug smile on my face.

“What’s up Cera?” I ask, heading towards her. She is standing next to Summer Banks and Brittani Frank, her best friends.

“Nothing really, I was just talking to Summer and Brittani about your baby.” Her smile turns evil. I stare at her for a moment, not quite comprehending her words.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“That girl you knocked up, Brent. Was she psycho too?” Anger boils just under my flesh. I clench my fist, using all of my strength not to deck her. Cera laughs. “Come on girls, we don’t want to be here when he blows.” They walk away laughing.

I close my eyes, imagining Victory’s beautiful face. Her green eyes sparkle and her pale pink lips mumble something like an “I love you”. “I love you too, Victory.” I mumble, opening my eyes. I take a deep breath and make my way towards the main entrance. I don’t see Cera again as I head to my locker.

Everybody around me whispers as I open my locker. Two guys pass me in the hallway talking. “Did you see that new chick? I would totally bang her.” I shake my head and grab my chemistry I book. I shut my locker, heading down the hall.

“Brent! Brent!” Someone behind me calls my name. I turn around to see Todd Hunter heading towards me. Todd and I have known each other since we were freshman, both being on the football team.

“Yo Todd, what’s up man?” I ask.

“Nothing man. Dude, have you seen that new chick? I heard she is smoking hot.” He replies.

“No man, I haven’t. But I’m sure she will fall for me as soon as I do.” I laugh, thinking about Victory once more.

“Whatever man, I am way better looking than you.” He laughs and punches me in the arm. I chuckle as we both make our way to Chemistry I. “Dude, I think that’s her.” Todd points to a slender girl with black hair. The moment I see her, she reminds me of someone. Her eye sparkle green and her lips are a pale pink. Her eyes meet mine and instantly I know who she is.

“Victory,” I whisper.

“What did you say?” Todd asks.

“Victory,” I say, louder. “Victory!” She looks at me and her mouth drops. Her eyes start to water and she shakes her head, mumbling something to herself. I run over to her. I smile ear to ear and wrap my arms around her.

“I-I’m sorry but I don’t know you.” She replies, pushing out of my grip.

“What do you mean? It’s me, Brent.” Her eyes fill with tears.

“Is this a cruel joke? Did someone put you up to this?” I stare at her, confused.

“No, no one put me up to anything. Why would you think that? Do you really not know me?”

“Brent is dead. I watched him die in my arms. How could…how could you do this to me? I don’t even know you!” She breaks down and starts crying. Everyone looks at us, but I ignore their piercing eyes. I wrap my arms around her slender body.

“Victory, I am not dead. I’m right here. Please, don’t cry.”

“No, no. I watched him die! I seen the blood! You…you can’t…“ She trails off, sobbing harder.

“The doctor saved me, Victory. He brought me back to life. I told him to tell you, to let you know I was alive.” She pulls out of my arms and looks up into my eyes.

“Then why didn’t you visit me? Why didn’t you call?”

“Nobody would let me see you; they wouldn’t let me talk to you. The doctor’s sent me home, Victory. They didn’t want me to have any contact with Spring Hill.” Her eyes find what she needs, and she embraces me.

“Brent, I’ve missed you so much! I-I cried for months, Brent!” I hold her, tears coming to my eyes.

“I know, I did too. I am so sorry.” We stand there in the now empty hallway, embracing each other with so much love that was lost during our two months apart. I had dreamed about this day, imagined it as I lay awake at night. I take in her scent, embrace her body, and kiss her with so much passion that my heart could burst. Victory is finally mine again. Never, ever will I leave her or our baby.

Runaway

"Wish you could turn off the questions, turn off the voices, turn off all sound. Yearn to close out the ugliness, close out the filthiness, close out all light. Long to cast away yesterday, cast away memory, cast away all jeopardy. Pray you could somehow stop uncertainty, somehow stop the loathing, somehow stop the pain. Act on your impulse, swallow the bottle, cut a little deeper, put the gun to your chest.” -Ellen Hopkins

Life is full of surprises, many of them unwanted. We see things, hear things, think things and talk about things that we wish we hadn't. We do things with our life that can't be taken back, can't be unshaken, can't be untamed. Most of us act upon impulse, taking a hit, getting in the car, or laying in bed with another. At the time, these things seemed okay. But now, looking through the darkness of our memory, sorting through the images and cobwebs, we remember the pain that was the consequence of our action.

“I've missed you so much.” Victory chimes, hugging me closer.

“Oh, how I've missed you, Victory.” I reply, burring my face in her hair. The parking lot is silent as I hold my Victory.

“Brent, I have to go.” She says, pulling away.

“Why? We have been apart for two months and you just want to leave?”

“I told my mom I would be home after school. It's after school, so I have to go.” She starts to walk away and I quickly grab her arm, pulling her into me.

“I can't live without you.” I whisper into her hair. “No matter if I will see you tomorrow, or everyday from now. That's not enough. I want to wake up beside you, hear your sweet voice in the morning, listen to you hum in the shower, feel your kiss before I go to bed. Victory I need you by my side.” She stares up into my eyes.

“What are you saying Brent? That you want to run away with me?” The thought hadn't occurred to me until her soft lips spoke of it.

“Yes, that is what I'm saying.Victory, run away with me. Be with me, forever.”

“I-I don't know Brent...”

“You want to be with me, don't you?” I encourage.

“Yes but-”

“But what?” I cut her off.

“My mom; what will happen to her? I just can't leave her.” She replies. I look into her emerald eyes.

“Victory, does your mom have a new boyfriend?” I see the fear in her eyes as she calmly nods her head. “Then come with me. Where we are, no one will ever hurt you again. Not your mom's boyfriends, or even your mom. Please Victory, we can be a family.” She looks down at her stomach and thinks for a moment. Whatever she sees in my eyes convinces her.

“Okay, I will go with you.” She whispers. I pull her into me, embracing her. The parking lot is empty as I bend down and kiss her softly.

“We will leave tonight, so have your things ready by midnight. Do you think your mom will be asleep by then?”

“She won't even be home.” Victory says, looking down. I place my fingers under her chin and force her to look at me.

“I love you.” I whisper, every bone in my body telling me it's the right thing to say.

“Brent, I love you too.” She stands on her tip-pie-toes and kisses me with every ounce of passion her body has to offer.

“Come on, I'll take you home.” She walks to the passenger side of the mustang and gets in. I start up the engine and pull out of the parking lot with speed.

Since I met Victory, she has become my everything. Nothing no longer matters in my world, except her and our precious baby. Speaking of the baby, she will need to go to the doctor. Don't pregnant women have to get check-ups? I'll take Victory to the doctor as soon as we bust out of the confinements of our world. I'll take her wherever she wants to go because her happiness is everything to me. I love her with every fiber of my being, every atom of my existence. Victory is my sanctuary in this dark storm called life.

“Brent,” Victory says, getting out of the car.

“Yes?” I ask.

She looks at her small brick house. It's a beat up house with weeds growing by the broken door, grass five inches tall, and a slew of cans, chip bags and shoes scattered across the unkept lawn.

“Please hurry.” She whispers. I look into her bright green eyes and see the fear and sadness that lays within them. I want to pull her back into the car, drive far away from here but I know I cant. I have to wait until midnight, until the right time or else everything could go wrong.

“I will Victory, I promise.” I lean across the seat and grab her arm before she shuts the door, pulling her closer. I kiss her softly on the lips, a gentle reminder of my love for her. She pulls away reluctantly and shuts the door. I pull out of the driveway as she enters her own personal hell.

Its weird to think Victory has lived so close to me for all these years, and I never knew her. Her house-if you can call it that- rests on the other side of town. She had just transferred to my high school after she got out of Spring Hill. She claims she wanted a new start, a fresh beginning. That's good for her. But for me, I just want every bit of my old life back, before it went spiraling out of control. I want my father to love me like my mom claims he once did. I want my mom to stop crying when it rains because it reminds her of the beatings my father showers upon her. I want to be popular, well-liked and the guy I once was, minus the hate and suicidal thoughts. But nothing will go back to normal, because this is normal for me.

Victory told me all about what happened at Spring Hill and how she cried every night over me. She told me about the new guy that now occupies my old room. Nobody found out about the baby, which is a really good thing. Hearing all the stories about Spring Hill doesn't make me miss it one bit. I've tried so many times to block that part of my life from entering my brain. But not matter what I do, I will never forget the help Spring Hill offered me, and how quickly I denied it.

Runaway Murderer

Darkness engulfs me as I jump onto the low branch of the huge tree outside my window. Carefully, I jump to the ground, picking up my two black bags I had thrown down prior to my escape.

It is time. I am heading to pick up Victory and then we will make our escape, leaving behind us the cruel world we once knew. Nothing can stop us. Not my masochistic father or Victory's uncaring mother. We will be together and raise our family without the interruption of our horrifying past.

Quietly, I open the door to my car and throw my bags in the back. I sit in the passenger seat and close my door. I start the car and pull out of the driveway quickly, not wanting to be here if the roar of the engine had woken my father.

I drive the speed limit, not wanting to get pulled over. If I was to get pulled over for speeding, the cop would surely escort me home and have a talk with dad. That would further delay Victory and I's escape plan. Not to mention a-not-so-disciplinary beat down from dear old dad.

My hands grip the wheel tighter as I think of what dad would try to do to me. “No,” I whisper out loud. “His days of hurting me are over. Never again will he lay a finger on me. I'm done with him.” I quietly park along the curb outside Victory's house. She said her mother wouldn't be home, so I kill the engine and make my way up the concrete path to her broken front door. I knock calmly and what I hear surprises me.

“Be right there!” An out of breath male voice shouts. A few moments later the door opens. A man about 5'6 stands in the doorway glaring at me. His hair is dark black and there are bags under his eyes. He can't be but thirty-five and he is drenched in sweat.

“Who are you?” He spits, staring up at me.

“The real question here is who are you and where is Victory?” I say, trying to keep my anger under control.

“Victory is...indecent right now. Maybe you should come back at a better time tomorrow.” His smile is smug and his face tells me everything I need to know. With one punch he is holding his nose, trying to stop the bleeding.

“Where is Victory?” I shout. He doesn't speak. Instead he rears his arm back and swings, missing me completely. I grab his arm and hit him again in the face. Quickly, I knee him in the stomach and he falls to the ground. I want so bad to finish him off, but I know Victory needs me.

“Victory!” I shout, running down the hall. I glance to my left, she's not in there. I glance to my right, not in the bathroom. Finally I find her in a bedroom at the end of the hall. She is laying naked in a huge bed, the covers ruffled and her clothes spread everywhere. Blood is running down her inner thighs and she is crying. Her face is buried in the bed as she tries to get up. She falls limply against the dirty sheets.

“Victory!” I say, running to her. She looks up in shock as pull her into the embrace of my arms.

“Brent,” She whispers, sobbing against my shoulder. “He-he...”

“I know Victory, I know. Here,” I grab her clothes up off of the floor and hand them to her. “Get dressed and get your bag. I'll be back.”

“No, don't leave me!” She begs. I caress her cheek.

“I will be back. you are safe.” I kiss her on the forehead before heading back to the living room to finish what I started. The man is gone. There is a small puddle of blood on the carpet from his bleeding nose, but he is nowhere to be found. I turn the corner into the kitchen and am immediately punched in the gut. I bend over, holding my stomach as he approaches me. I see anger in his eyes as he grabs a knife off of the counter and makes a jab at me. I quickly dodge it and grab his arm, throwing him forcefully to the ground. He struggles to get up as I press my foot to his chest, forcing him down. I take the knife and make a clean stab to his stomach, and another one. I cant stop as my anger unleashes.

“Brent!” I hear a screech and turn to see Victory standing in the entrance of the kitchen. I look from her horrified face to the scene in front of me. The sick freak is laying on the ground, not moving. His eyes are open and blood is all around me. It is seeping from under his shirt, out of his nose and mouth. He is dead, for sure. I drop the knife and notice the blood stained on my white shirt and my jeans. What have I done?

“Brent!” Victory says once more. I look back at her. Tears stream from her eyes like rain falling from an emerald sky. Tears fill my eyes as I stand up. I want to grab her, take her into my arms and never let go. But I'm covered in blood. She is horrified, and I don't blame her. I scare myself most of the time.

“Victory, I-I...” I stumble over words, unable to think of a rightful apology. Tears fall from my eyes as I look down at my bloody hands. “He-he hurt you.” I manage to whisper.

Surprisingly, Victory walks over to me and wraps her slender arms around me, holding me tightly.

“He did, Brent.” She replies.

“I-I was just...helping you. I didn't want him to do it again. But I couldn't stop Victory.” I break down into sobs. “I couldn't stop.” She holds me tighter as I cry on her shoulder, unable to stop the remorseful tears.

“Brent, it's okay. But we need to leave. Now, before my mom gets home.” She replies. I pull away from her.

“Your right,” I say. I look down at my bloody clothes. “I need to clean up first. Will you go to my car and grab a shirt and jeans from my bag while I wash off?” I ask. Victory nods and heads out the door. Without another glance at my bloody victim, I head to the bathroom to wash up.

I find a wash rag under the sink and begin to wash off my hands and face. Next I decide I need to get out of these clothes. I strip down to my boxers as Victory enters the bathroom.

“Here,” She says, handing me the clothes. I stare at her face and notice the shock in her eyes.

“I'm sorry,” I whisper, taking the clothes out of her hands.

“Brent I love you.” She replies softly, sitting down on the edge of the bathtub.

“And I love you too.” I kneel down in front of her place my hands on her knees.

“I am ready to leave here. To go and never look back. I don't want you to get in trouble Brent. I can't live without you.” Tears fill her eyes. I cup her cheek in my hands.

“It's going to be okay. Everything is going to be alright.” She nods slightly, leaning into my hand.

I hadn't lied when I told her everything would be alright. I am positive it will be, no matter what I have to do. We will run away together and never look back. We will raise a family and be in love. Victory is my everything and I won't lose her again.

Never Escape

*Victory's Point of View *


The image of Clark's lifeless body lying on the cold, tile floor of my kitchen replays over and over again in my mind. Brent stabbing him multiple times, blood oozing from his body and most of all, the look on Brent's angered face. I saw a side of Brent I hadn't seen since the day he...he almost died.

I shiver as the thought washes over me, causing Brent to look at me out of the corner of his eye.

“What's wrong?” He asks, keeping his eyes on the road.

“Nothing, I'm fine.” I lie perfectly. I have been without Brent for so long, I forgot he knew me well.

“Tell me, Victory.” His voice is calm but his words are demanding. I shake my head slightly.

“I'm fine. I was just...” I trail off, not sure of how he would react if I told him I was scared. Scared that he would be taken to jail, scared we would be ripped apart once more. But most of all, I was scared of what he was capable of.

Brent doesn't say anything for a few moments. He pulls into a fairly empty motel parking lot, cutting the engine. He stares out the window out into the dark night sky. His breathing slows, and everything is silent. For a moment I think he is asleep, but then he begins to talk, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Victory, I know you all to well to know what your thinking. Your scared.” He turns to face me and shock surges through my body. His face is so sad and distraught, he doesn't look like my Brent. My Brent is fearless, brave and most of all, strong. This Brent, sitting next to me in this empty parking lot, is scared, shaken, and, most of all, sad. So sad my heart breaks when I look into his dark brown eyes. So sad that when a tear escapes the brim of his eyes, I, too, cry.

I hold him for what seems like a long time, both of us crying. “Brent,” I whisper finally, “what's wrong?” He doesn't pull out of my arms.

“I-I'm scared too. I'm scared of what I have become. Back there, at your house, I killed a man. Something I never thought I would do. I stabbed him, so many times Victory. I liked the fact that he was finally dead, after what he did to you.” He sobs silently as I hold him tighter against me.

“I know Brent. I know.” We are both silent, holding on to each other like its our last thread of hope. Finally, Brent lets go of me and whips his face with the back of his hand.

“Let's go,” He says, getting out of the car. I step out of the car as he grabs our bags. We walk to the main office of the motel in search of a room.

“How may I help you?” A short man with red hair asks, not taking his eyes off of the TV set in front of him.

“We need a room for the night.” Brent says, setting the bags down and grabbing his wallet.

The man looks up at us through cracked glasses. “That will be thirty-five dollars.” Brent pulls the money out of his wallet and hands it to the strange man. The man reaches behind him, grabbing a key and hands it to Brent. “Check out is at noon.”

“Thank you.” Brent mumbles, picking up our bags. He motions for me to follow him. We walk outside in search of room 16A. It's the last door. I take the bags from Brent as he turns the key, opening the mint green door with ease. He flicks a switch and turns on the light, relieving the room.

There is one medium sized bed against the wall. Across from it is an old TV on a wooden stand. The carpet is a nasty brown and doesn't match the green comforter and curtains. I set the bags down and take a seat on the bed.

“It's not the nicest place,” Brent says, “but it will have to do for now.” He sits down next to me, kissing me softly on the lips.

“I'm just glad I'm with you.” I mumble against his lips. He smiles faintly, kissing me once more.

“Do you want to take a shower?” He asks. I nod, all of a sudden feeling really dirty. I stand up and head to the bathroom. It is very small. The floor is brown tile and the walls are a dirty white. The shower is stained and nasty. I decide to wear my flip-flops in the shower. I strip down and start the water, stepping into its warm embrace.


*Brent's Point Of View*


Victory nods, making her way towards the bathroom. Once the door shuts I lay down on the over used bed, not liking the feel of it. I close my eyes and will myself not to think. The image of the man I murdered enters my mind and my eyes snap open. Will I ever be able to rid myself of that image? Will I ever sleep again? My mind tosses as my phone rings. I pull it out of my pocket and look at the caller ID. Mom. She is probably worried. I have to tell her I'm fine. She is my mother, after all.

“Hey mom. I know you're probably freaking out by now, but I'm fine so don't worry.” I say. The voice that replies is deep and husky, full of anger and hatred.

“You wont be fine once I reach you.” He says. I grip the phone tighter, anger surging through my body.

“Where's mom?” I ask desperately.

“She's still sleeping. It is two in the morning you know. Speaking of the time, shouldn't you be here, in bed?”

“Fuck you.” I reply blandly.

“It's not nice to talk to people that way, Brent. Now listen here you little punk. I know where you are. I'm pretty sure you haven't left town yet, and there is only one place you can be. I'm coming for you, and once I get there, this is the last time you will ever leave. Got that?” I hang up the phone abruptly, not wanting to hear the rest of it.

With one good toss, my phone goes flying throw the air and hits the wall across the room. It breaks into three pieces, flinging the battery under the wooden stand holding the TV.

“Brent,” Victory calls from the shower, “are you okay?”

“I'm fine babe, just hurry up and shower.” I reply. I can't tell Victory my father is after us. That would scare her. We don't have enough money to go anywhere tonight, so we are forced to stay here until I can get to the bank tomorrow. We just have to hope he doesn't actually know where I am.

He will always know where I am, no matter how far I run. The thought enters my mind as quickly as it leaves. Dad will always search for me, and he will always succeed. I will never be able to loosen the grasp he has on me. Victory, the baby and I will never have a life of our own, not unless it's under his conditions.

There is only one way he wont be able to reach me. There is only one way that I will be able to escape from him.

The bathroom door opens and Victory steps out in nothing but a towel and flip-flops. Her hair is wet like the rest of her body. She smiles big when she sees me and my heart melts.

I stand up, pulling her into my arms. I kiss her passionately, showing her just how crazy she drives me. I take off the towel, throwing it on the floor. She takes off my shirt, her lips never leaving mine. I quickly shed out of my pants and boxers, pulling her naked body against mine.

“I love you, Victory.” I whisper before laying her on the bed.

“I love you too, Brent.” We make love for what seems like forever, embracing each other. We reach a high both of us has never felt before. Passion and pleasure overcome both of us as we scream out, enjoying every minute of it.

Once we are done I roll over, breathing heavy. “What was that for?” Victory asks, propping herself up on her elbow.

“I thought it better be amazing if I love you so much.” She smiles, taking my breath away. Every bone in my body aches for her, longs for her. Tears form in my eyes as I lean over to kiss her. Her smile fades as she notices my somber eyes.

“What's wrong?” She asks, caressing my face.

“Nothing.” I lie, offering a fake smile. She doesn't buy it. I sigh and stand up, walking over to my bag. My back is faced towards Victory, so she doesn't see the gun when I pull it out of the bottom of my bag. Silently, I begin to cry, knowing this is what I have to do.

“I love you so much, Victory.” I say, still not turning around.

“I love you too, Brent.” She replies. I can hear her get out of bed and walk over to me. She wraps her slender arms around my waist. Slowly, I turn around, exposing the gun in my right hand. Victory gasps, covering her mouth with her hand.

“I'm so sorry.” I whisper, bending down to kiss her. She pulls away quickly.

“Brent, what are you doing?” She almost shouts, fear visible in her eyes.

“My dad, he's coming for us. He knows where we are, and he will hurt us Victory.” I reply. “I have no other choice. I will never get to be with you any other way.” She shakes her head robotically, starting to cry. “Please,” I whisper, “don't cry. Everything is going to be alright.” I reach out and touch her cheek.

“You don't have to do this. We can leave now, go somewhere. Please Brent, don't do this.” She sobs, breaking my heart for the final time.

“Shh,” I reply, “this is the only way don't you see? We will never loosen his grasp. We will never break free of him. This is all we can do.” Slowly, I bend down and softly kiss her stomach. “Ill see you soon, my precious child.” I stand up and face Victory. She begins to scream and I aim the gun directly at her stomach. “Goodbye, my child.” Slowly, I pull the trigger and fire, hitting her right in the gut. Victory falls to her knees, blood oozing from her stomach. She continues to cry, her hands covered in blood as she tries to stop the bleed.


Silently I cry as I aim the gun at her head. “I love you, Victory, so much.” I take a deep breath. “I'll see you soon.” I close my eyes as I pull the trigger, hitting her between the eyes. She falls to the ground, dead. I cry in agony as I see my beautiful Victory lie on the ground, not moving. My stomach churns and my heart dies. Even dead she is intoxicatingly beautiful. I bend down and kiss her one last time on the lips, smoothing her hair. “I love you.”


I stand up and place the gun next to my head. “I will see you on the other side.” I mumble as I pull the trigger one final time. Sirens ring in my ears as everything fades to black. Silence is all I hear as I make my way to hell.


*THE END*

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Tag der Veröffentlichung: 01.10.2011

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