Chapter 2: The Best Friend

For the past twelve years, I grew up without a father. Truth be told, that's what I thought was normal. So, you can imagine my surprise when I figured out that my mom was in love. She was radiating, and her happiness was somewhat contagious. I wanted what's best for her, and if David, her new boyfriend, makes her happy, then I'm content, too.

I sat on the bench at the school’s yard, during the lunch break. It was a rather hot and sunny day, despite being the last days of November. I was supposed to meet with Izzie, my best friend, but I guess something stalled her. I wanted to keep my thoughts away from my mom's personal life, for a moment. That's why my mind flew back to the day I met Izzie almost two years ago.

                                 * * *

I was walking from one class to another. Back then I didn’t have many friends, so I used to walk alone. I never really got to understand the kinds of my age. They were running around like crazy, making fun of one another, without caring if they’d hurt someone's feelings.

At the end of the corridor, something caught my attention. I walked closer and saw three boys, one year older than me, surrounding a girl with blonde curly hair. I looked better at the girl and realized two things: we used to have a few classes together, and she was about to burst into tears. The boy in front of her took her notebook, threw it down, and he was about to do the same with her pencil case. Without a second thought, I grabbed the case out of his hand and glared at him.

He seemed surprised by my unexpected intervention. “What do you think you are doing?” he questioned with a raised brow. The other two boys seemed amused that they found a second victim to bully.

“Pick it up!” I seethed through greeted teeth.

The boy starts laughing, and that only added fuel to my annoyance. “Make me…” he challenges me when he sobered up.

“This is your last warning. Pick. It. Up.” My voice was cold as ice, altered by my anger. Suddenly, the corridor’s windows burst open, and a clap of thunder made the three boys flinch. A raging wind came through the windows and blew my black hair away.

“What’s going on? Did you do this?” stammered one of these bullies.

“You’d be surprised to see what else I can do,” I said with a smirk.

“You can control the weather!? Are you insane?” the first boy said, his voice a bit unsteady.

I rolled my eyes at him. Before he even realizes what happened, I grabbed his forearm and twisted it in a weird angle behind his back. A small scream escaped his lips and he tried to set free, only to make it worse. “You are not the big, bad boy now, are you?” I hissed; my grip still tight.

“Let me go. Please…” he pleaded after a few more seconds of struggle. His friends didn’t even dare to move and stared at us with wide eyes.

“Pick up the notebook, apologize to her, and maybe you’ll have your hand back.”

“Okay, I will,” he said, and I gave him enough space just to bend over and pick up the little notebook. “I am sorry for throwing your things on the floor,” murmured, his eyes glued on the ground.

The girl took her notebook back and mouthed a small ‘it’s okay’.

“Next time think twice before you do something like that,” I warned him and finally freed his arm. He nodded frantically, and all three of them scampered away quickly.

“Thank you, but you shouldn’t have done that,” the girl said with a small voice when we were alone.

“And what do you suggest I should have done? Let them bully you? I wasn’t raised to ignore someone who needs my help,” I told her nonchalantly.

“But you don’t understand; now they’ll start picking up on you, too.”

“Ha, they are welcome to try,” I said with a smirk.

“Aren’t you afraid of them?”

“No, and you shouldn’t be either.”

“But look at me; everyone makes fun of me,” she said on the verge of tears.

“Stop thinking low of yourself, Izzie,” I said, and her eyes winded as soon as her name rolled out of my lips.

“You… You know my name?” she asked dumbfounded.

“Of course, I do. We share a few classes. Now, come on, unless you’re in the mood for detention,” I told her and headed to the classroom.

From this little incident, Izzie and I became inseparable. Izzie is a sweet girl that always smiles and is kind to everyone. She is the best student in her class, she likes reading books and watching black and white movies. She could live the rest of her life eating only pasta, and she has the biggest collection of cute stuffed animals I’ve ever seen.

Our classmates, though, ignored her lovely personality and made fun of her because she was the teachers’ favorite student. They called her nerd, boring or dull, and the cool kids didn’t want her at their squad.

She never complained about anything, and that only made things worse. Her bullies thought she didn’t have the guts to let the teachers know and kept making fun of her with every given chance. She eventually got used to it and tried her hardest to lay low. Things changed drastically since we started hanging out together. They stopped picking up on her and call her names.

I was more than happy that her school life changed, and at the same time content that I had her as a friend. We were bound to be together through thick and thin. Izzie was there for me in my darkest times, and I’ll always be grateful for that.

Apart from becoming best friends with Izzie, this incident brought another change into my life. My grandpa suggested me to start learning martial arts. He believed that if I was going to keep picking up fights, at least I could do it the right way. I started with self-defense techniques and gradually learned more styles like Karate, Capoeira, and Kung-Fu. I didn’t manage to only train my body, but my mind too. I learned to control my emotions better. Plus, I could blow off some steam when I was stressed.

                                 * * *

“Are you daydreaming again?” Izzie asked with a soft voice and sat next to me.

“I will meet my mother’s boyfriend on Saturday, and I was wondering whether I get the chance to demonstrate my Karate skills,” I said with a smirk.

“That is going to be an interesting meeting. Where did your mother meet him?” Izzie asked.

“He’s the Head Chef at one of my grandfather’s restaurants. That’s how they met. He has a son, too. His name is Christopher, and he’s two years older than us”

“Is he divorced?”

 “Unfortunately, no. His wife passed away almost ten years ago. She had leukemia; the doctors couldn’t do anything to save her…”

“Oh no, that’s so sad,” she said with a gloomy look on her face.

“Well, I have a bad feeling about all this. I'm not sure what’s exactly the cause, though...”

“Did you tell your mom?”

I shook my head. “I didn’t want to worry her. She seems happy and so in love. I don’t want to break that little bubble of happiness she’s in.”

“Maybe you’re just anxious. Don’t stress too much over it,” she said shrugging.

A small sigh escaped my lips. My intuition never proved to be wrong and that scared me even more.

I tried to brush it off, but then I started watching nightmares, or one to be precise. Three nights in a row the same dream woke me up.

I was in our kitchen the lights suddenly went off. I was holding something in my hands, but I wasn’t sure what it was. When the lights came back again, there were small pieces of glass in my hands. Some of them cut my skin and blood was running from the wounds. I didn’t care about the cuts; on the contrary, I didn’t even feel any pain. The only feeling inside me was pure anger. I was ragging.

Something was about to happen, and it wasn’t good...