What the fuck is self reflection? Writing down how I feel? Talking to myself? I guess that's 'normal' self reflection. Let's take a look at the abnormal side of things. This short story thing is called:
Self-Reflection of a Mad Man: Part One
1 2 3 go!
Shady Grove high school is one of the
finest in the country in terms of academics and athletics. The school is the pride of the town and basically holds it together.
It seems that every week another athlete makes the news for a division 1 scholarship to Ohio State or USC or wherever it is these jock assholes wish to attend these days. Everyday on the school announcements, another student is praised for his unique academic achievement. The school is full of superstars and of brilliant people. Basically, it is perfect. But look deeper; in the midst of perfection, there is always anarchy.
'Good morning students. Today is Thursday, March 16, 1999. The lunch menu is...'
Loud background talking.
Screech!
'I apologize for the interuption. Would Raf Jennings please report to Principal Millers office immediately.'
Son of a bitch, they caught me again. I'm Raf, by the way. Surprised, right? I bet you thought there was a narrorator. Nah, that'd be lame. I'm a much better story teller. Anyways, back to business.
As said, my name is Raf Jennings. I've lived in Shady Grove for 13 years, and I must say, I fucking hate it here. All anyone cares about is sports and grades.
Sports are okay I guess. Hockey is rad. It's violent, it's fast. It's a sport for real men. Unfortunately, hockey hasn't been an option since they put in the new football stadium 4 years ago. The death of hockey was the death of sports for me. It's the only one I can play drunk, and drunk I am. All the time. Quite sad really. Anyways....
Education, I admit, is important. But, what these fucking people don't understand, is that certain people are good at certain things. I, for instance, am a writer and a poet. Math, means nothing to me. The fact that I'm failing the subject may keep me from graduating. Bullshit, right? That's what I said. When the teacher disagreed, I kicked the hell out of him. Now, here we are.
'Raf, you've done some stupid things in this building, but this, this is the end of the line.'
Principal Miller is a fucking cunt and should be treated as such. Her husband got cancer and died; now she feels it is her responsibility to rid the world of smokers and outlaws (I guess outlaws cause cancer). I was both and she's had it out for me for as long as I can remember.
'Raf, I found the whiskey in your locker and...'
'Whoa whoa whoa... When did you search my locker?'
'Right after Mr. Jensen left in an ambulance. What the Hell is wrong with you?'
'I happen to enjoy whiskey now and again Mrs. Miller. I admit, it does make me a tad bit violent. Now, who told you to invade my locker?'
'What you did today is unacceptable. Attacking a teacher is good reason to search your locker. Needless to say, you're out of this school for good. You might end up in prison.'
'Hold on woman...'
'DON'T call me woman. You are to refer to me as Mrs. Miller. Are we clear?'
'Yea bitch. Listen. I'm still drunk. I'll call you what the fuck I want.'
'Stop talking.'
'But..'
'Until you refer to me as Mrs. Miller, shut your mouth.'
She's getting angry. I think I have a plan. I love toying with this bitch.
'Fine. Mrs. Miller. I'm graduating like, really soon.'
'Not from Shady Grove you aren't. How do I reach your parents?'
Might as well lie at this point.
'Let's see. My father. He left when I was three. And my mother... Breast cancer, 1993.'
'Oh.. God.. I'm sorry..'
In reality, my father is a violent alcoholic like myself. My mother, haha, well, my mother smokes crack. A lot. I can't bring myself to call her a crackhead. But, right now it's beneficial to have no parents. So, I guess I have no parents.
'Yea... Thanks... That almost brings them back...'
'Raf, I know you're lying.'
Damn. She's being tricky today. Don't worry, I'm prepared. If there's one thing i've learned in this wretched school, it's that you should always have a back up plan. Remember that for those times in life when you're completely out of options.
'Yeah, yeah. I know. You and my mom teach Sunday school together.'
She tries so hard not to be a crackhead.
'Yes Raf. That was a stupid lie; it's only going to make things worse for you.'
'So, you need to call my parents?'
'I already did. They're on their way. I believe i've out smarted you this time Raf. You will not weasel your way out.'
It seems she's come with a fierce desire to destroy me today. She thinks she has me cornered.
'Your parents are here Raf. Your father would like to speak to you in private.'
She's in for a suprise.
'Okay Mrs. Miller. Should we go into one of the conference rooms.'
'Yes. I'll take your father there while your mother comes in here to talk to you.'
'Awe damn. Okay.'
'Watch your mouth Raf.'
Leave already!
'Of course Mrs. Miller. I'm sorry.'
'Don't kiss up now. You're done.'
That's right. Walk out the door.
'Hello mother.'
'You fucked up this time Raf. You're gonna end up in prison.'
'Don't count on it. I always find a way out.'
'Not this time.'
My mom is pessimistic. It kinda brings me down.
'Don't be a bitch mom. You don't even know what happened.'
Here comes the manipulation.
'Well, what happened then Raf? What's your excuse this time?'
'No excuse mom. That bastard hit me first.'
'I seriously doubt that.'
Before I go on, I should tell you what really happened. Okay. First of all, this was a test day. Mr. Jensen was being an ass, as usual. I was the first one done with the test. He checked it in class and handed it back. I got a C, not too bad. Then he announces to the class that maybe there was hope for me in the world. If I tried hard enough, I might accomplish mediocrity.
Okay, I can take that. What else you got?
Then, he began to laugh under his breath as he walked back to his desk. That's when I got pissed.
'What're you laughing at?' I asked
'Come on. We both know you'll be a waste like the rest of your family.'
That was it. You can take shots at me. Not at my troubled family that couldn't defend themselves at the time. In an instant, I leaped from my desk, mathbook in hand. His back was turned to me. I beat him in the back of the head 5 or 6 times; however many it took to get him on the ground. I threw the book at his face and kicked him in the stomach a few times. When blood ran from his mouth, I only kicked him harder, this time in the face.
By then, a few other students collaborated to pull me away from him. I grabbed my jacket, and left. Minutes later, I heard sirens screaming outside the building and my name called out over the pa system. But, for my mother, the edited version.
'Okay mom. I walked into the room, and everyone was staring at me. I sat down, and this girl, Alex or something, comes to my desk and tells me to watch my back. Mr. Jenson had apparently been talking about getting revenge for my April Fools joke. Two minutes later, the bell rung, and Mr. Jenson walked into the room holding a fire extinguisher and a golf club. I asked to go to the bathroom. He told me I have 2 minutes, so I went; when I came back, apparently 2 minutes and 1 second later, he hit me in the knee with the golf club. I had the right to defend myself. This is fucking America.'
The thing is, my mother, like most mothers, will always be on my side. Right now, she's probably 93% sure I'm lying, but she gives me the benefit of the doubt. It's important to use that to your advantage. That was the end of the conversation with my mother. She came in pissed and left on my side. "I can't believe the fucking shit that goes on in this school." she screeched in her crackhead voice on her way out. Yes, my mother was the easy one; my father, however, is another story.
You see, my dad is a hard ass. He likes to drink Jack Daniels (wonder where I picked up the habit), ride Harleys, and beat on the helpless. His attitude is arrogant and obnoxious; if things don't go his way, he throws a fucking fit. I wouldn't be surprised if I get into another fight before the day ends. Ge'ez, why's he taking so long?
I wonder what the hell is going to come of all this. I mean, yeah, my parents will probably be cool about it, but I've been in a lot of trouble this past year. Oh well, fuck it. Where's my dad?
"Raf," my dad said softly as he walked carefully through the door. I could see he was stumbling, so I know he was at least a little buzzed. "Raf, you're fucked."
As my father spit these words in a quick whisper, the vein on his forehead pulsed nervously. He closed his eyes for a second, wiped the sweat from his brow, and spoke again, this time softer than before.
"Raf.. The teacher you hit is pressing charges on top of the ones from the school. You're facing 10 years."
Obviously, this was not good news. I looked at the ground. When I looked back up, my fathers face was red.
"What do I have to do dad?"
"Well... You're facing trial in a month. Until then, you'll have to stay in State prison with no bail."
I couldn't breathe. This is not what I had been expecting. Suspension, maybe, but not this. I'm going to prison. Fuck.
I looked over at my dad once more, just in time to see something I had never seen before; my father with tears streaming down his face. One more blink, I was handcuffed and dragged down the hallway past all my fellow classmates. I had a dead look in my eyes, as if this could be the end. Little did I know, this was only the beginning.
