Tossing and turning in bed that seemed a bit too small for me, I finally sat up, glancing at the clock as I did so. Damn the oppressive humidity. I was a California boy; born and bred to deal with dry summers and this humidity was killing me. The lively LEDs screamed at me, 2:30am. It was late and I had to be up early to go do the touristy thing.

This was supposed to be an educational and cultural experience for me. At least that’s what my parents had hoped for. But hey, I was 13, going into high school, and spending my summer in France of all places. What did I care about culture and education? It was all about interesting people, exploring new places and having a bit of fun. Instead, I had been pretty busy running around with my family, checking out different places on my uncle’s itinerary, seeing how he had everything perfectly mapped out.

Sighing inwardly, I reached over toward the nightstand and grabbed the waiting bottle of water. Taking a couple of long pulls from it, I spun the bottle absentmindedly in my hands. My thoughts wandered back to Stephanie, that girl I met while checking in a few days ago. I hadn’t seen her since then, and I couldn’t get her out of my mind. I had to see her again.

Her visage popped into my head, smiling and laughing, eyes full of mirth. Smiling to myself, I lay back down, rolled over and pictured her, as I drifted back to sleep.

Waking with a start, I found myself staring at the underside of a pillow my cousin had thrown at me to wake me. Typical. Just wait, I’ll get her back soon enough. I was probably the last one up, so I needed to hurry before I got into trouble. Rolling out of bed and half stumbling to the bathroom, I grabbed a change of clothes and hit the shower.

Coming out of the shower, I heard Lynn say something through the door that got muffled underneath the towel covering my head.

“What? I can’t hear you,” I yelled out from under the towel.

“Come on, we’re going to be late for breakfast,” she called to me.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming. I’ll meet you downstairs.”

“Okay, but hurry up, or else you’ll be late.”

Hearing the heavy door close shut, I hopped on one foot and attempted to put on my shorts, half stumbling around the room in the process. I must have sounded like a herd of stampeding bunnies hopping around like that.

Grabbing my shirt, I slipped my shoes on and bolted across the room, careening into the hall, slamming the door shut behind me with a loud bang. “Whoops,” I thought to myself. I really needed to pay more attention to my surroundings. One of these days a door would come right off its hinges with my carelessness.

Just like the last couple of mornings, I hoped that I’d run into Stephanie so I could ask her to hang out. Lost in thought, I shuffled down the stairs as fast as I could. Paying attention to my feet so I wouldn’t stumble, I shuffled along faster. At the very last second I looked up and saw her staring at me, wide-eyed, like a deer caught in the headlights of a 175lb mac-truck bearing down on her.

Spinning left, I twisted my body out of the way and jumped the last 2 steps to the bottom, sliding to a stop a few away from her. Looking at her sheepishly, I got out a breathless, “Sorry ’bout that.” As she gazed at me with those dark shimmering pools that made my stomach knot up with nervousness.

What the hell was I thinking doing something like that? I almost felt like hitting myself in the face because of my recklessness. I could have ended up bowling her over. That would have been a great way to say hi.

“Are you ok?” I finally managed to blurt out.

That’s when I heard her sigh.

Part: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, to be continued…

Straight black hair fell to her shoulders, glistening like dark, watery obsidian reflecting the moon’s soft smile. A sudden gust of wind blew errant strands of hair across her eyes. She tossed her head and tucked her hair behind her right ear, letting the hair on the left frame her face. There was enough ambient light to illuminate her elegant features; noticeable even at her young age. She was probably as old as I was, her demeanor expressing a graceful shyness that held me, spellbound.

Mesmerized by her countenance, my eyes dried up causing me to look away, blink rapidly and rub my eyes. She was stunning by any standard; her features were Asian, but not wholly so. I pretended to look around, so as to not stare, as I consciously tried to place her ethnicity.

“‘ello,” she said lightly, a discernible English accent in her voice.

“Oh, hey, errr…hi,” I replied, stammering, unsure of what else to say. Her voice was light and breathless, like whispering leaves playing tag across a meadow. She smiled at me, her sparkling eyes flashed with inquisitive interest. I fidgeted a bit more under her gaze.

“Hey, you’re really pretty,” Lynn said, popping up out of the corner of my eye.

Flushing a slight pink, she tilted her head while looking away and said a quick thank you. Looking back toward us, she smiled and I felt myself getting warm, as if a flash fever had come over me. Feeling a jab in my shoulder, I looked over to see Lynn lean over and look at me,”She’s really pretty isn’t she? Say something,” she whispered fiercely.

“uhmmm…,” I hummed, desperately chasing the tenuous words that floated just out reach.

Saving me from a fate worse than death, her brother bounded out ahead of his family and grasped the handle of the door and heaved. Struggling with the door, his face screwed up into a grimace as he tugged unsuccessfully. Moving quickly to his side, I pulled the handle to help him out. With a gentle whoosh, the door yawned open and I continued to pull till it was wide open.

“Pardon,” he piped up, “Can you hold the door, please? I need to get my bags.”

“Sure, I can do that,” I told him, watching him scamper back behind his sister and grab two small bags that were out of sight.

Their mother came up the walkway, with a bag on wheels in tow. Looking from mother to daughter, I saw the family resemblance, and it was striking. Definitely Asian, with jet-black hair pulled into a pony tail, exceptionally tall and almost regal looking. She was beautiful; slender and graceful, with delicate facial features like her daughter, that radiated contentment and compassion. Overhearing her son ask his question, and seeing me stand there holding the door, she quickened her pace.

“Bobby, you don’t ask other people to hold the door open for you,” his mother scolded, when she got near the door.

“But Mum, he already opened up the door for us,” he protested loudly.

“Don’t argue with your mum, Bobby,” his dad said, “just do what your mum tells you.”

“Alright,” he mumbled.

“Thank you so much for helping out. You didn’t have to,” she said warmly, as she reached out to grab the door handle.

Finding my tongue, I responded quickly, “It’s ok, I’m glad could help.” Taking a step back, I opened the door as wide as it would go, to let her by.

“It’s so very nice of you to hold the door open, but I’m going to leave this suitcase here to prop it open. So you needn’t worry.”

“You’re welcome,” I said, tilting my head in inclination. It was always much easier dealing with adults. At least I knew where I stood with them, after all, I was merely a kid. As long as you were courteous or respectful, most of them treated you kindly.

She went back to grab a couple more bags. “Hurry along now, Stephanie,” she called out, looking at her daughter. “Make sure you’ve everything, and don’t lose your brother.”

One by one, the family filed past me into the hotel. Bobby grabbed the suitcase propped up against the door and pulled it inside. Putting my foot down to stop the door from closing, I watched him pull the suitcase inside, running along as it trailed behind him. Pulling up the rear, Stephanie hesitated and stopped when she got to me.

“May I ask your name?”

“Oh…it’s J,” I replied, looking into her face, gaze transfixed on her wondrous eyes. Those eyes! I had never seen such eyes before. They were dark brown, with green flecks, something akin to hazel, but darker, smokier. But how could it be? I wondered. Asians don’t have green in their eyes, did they? It was a question I’d have to ask her later, if I ever got the chance.

Her eyes resonated with life and excitement, shielding the touch of subdued innocence underneath. They cradled my attention in delicate hands, like precious stones. Smiling, she shyly held out her hand and I automatically reached out and shook it. Soft and warm to the touch, I gulped as the simple touch of her hand made my stomach turn end over end. Oh how I wish I could just hold her hand forever, I thought to myself.

“It’s nice to meet you,” she breathed. “Thank you oh so much for helping.”

“Nice to meet you too. And it was nothing, not a problem really.” I shrugged, regaining my composure.

Looking inside, we saw her parents at the check-in counter, side-by-side with my aunt and uncle.

“I have to go, but you’re staying here right?” she meekly inquired.

“Yeah, that’s my aunt and uncle in there,” I said. Jabbing my thumb toward Lynn, who was hanging out in the distance, “And she’s my cousin.”

“Well, maybe, I’ll see you around…later?” she asked haltingly. She seemed more nervous than I was, which only made my breathing slow to a crawl, fearing that the slightest movement would shatter this moment, impossible to piece back together.

Her cheeks turned red and she quickly turned away, her lustrous hair concealing her face from view. It acted like a momentary buffer, popping the bubble that we were enclosed in. Turning around, she quickly disappeared through the doors before I could say anymore.

Perplexed, I was left holding the door, the image of her face hovering in her wake.

Part: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, to be continued…

Leaning my weight against the heavy oak doors that marked the entrance to the hotel, I waded out into summer’s nighttime air, a slight breeze ruffling the thin windbreaker I wore. Standing outside of the hotel under the pleasant moonlit sky, I hoisted my backpack higher onto my shoulders and waited for my uncle to check-in. Letting my eyes adjust to the deepening darkness that engulfed the skyline, the night came alive with hundreds of glowing streetlamps spread out all over the city. The hazy radiance from the lamps brightened up the cityscape, giving welcome to its visitors.

This wasn’t my first trip to this continent full of classic, historical beauty, but I barely remembered the last one. The sparse number of memories that were left behind from the last trip showcased the importance that this trip represented to me. I never really thought about it until then, but the memories you take with you were as precious as droplets of water in the desert. When they were gone, there was nothing you could possibly do to bring them back. And it was in my best interest to make some new ones.

My father always felt that it was a crucial part of any person’s education; to try and understand other cultures and the philosophies contained within their histories. But my eyes often glazed over from the boredom that I felt within, even though I soaked up the information like a savant; the idiot kind. It was all a bunch of facts that I happen to remember, but never felt that they were significant to me. My desires were much more wild and carefree, tied to my restless spirit, the wanderlust within.

Looking around, the urge to run off in either direction and explore tugged at the puppeteer’s strings that bound me to my earthly shell. My impatience prodded me, vehemently wishing to be set free. But I held fast to the knowledge that there were still many days left in this vacation. There was nothing on either continent to hold me back.

“So what do you think?” Lynn asked, sneaking up behind me and putting her arm around my neck.

“What do I think about what? Being here?” I asked offhandedly. I ignored her arm, steadily trying to pull me over with her body-weight. It was something we used to do as kids, rough-housing and wrestling in sibling fashion. We were physical equals then, not so much anymore.

“Yeah, we’re in Paris! Look how beautiful it is, especially at night,” she said excitedly, yanking me even harder to one side.

“Eh, it’s alright I guess. Lights, buildings, and people,” I said dismissively. I continued to stare off into the distance, consciously hoping that something would happen to illustrate and justify my cousin’s excitement.

“I told you that you can’t mope,” she scolded, cuffing me in the shoulder as she did so.

Raising my eyebrow at her, I gave her a look of doubt. “Don’t make me turn you into a pretzel,” I playfully threatened. “I’m more than big enough now to do it. You’ll wake up like this, looking like a retard,” I said, as I showed her a quick demonstration of what she might look like.

“Oh yeah?” she challenged, and she punched me in the arm instead.

Grabbing her arm, I quickly slid up her sleeve and slapped both of my hands on her bare arm. Twisting my hands in opposite directions, I gave her an Indian rugburn.

“Oow!” she yelped, as I grinned and snickered at her momentary pain. I shuffled to the side to avoid a flailing arm and took off, running in a circle.

“You are so dead!” she yelled at me, and started to chase me around. In between the cars we ran, stopping and reversing direction, weaving and ducking through the gaps. I stayed just enough ahead of her to be out of reach, but close enough that she could almost imagine catching me, all the while laughing at her scowl.

“Like you can catch me,” I taunted, catching glimpses of her over my shoulder.

Having not paid much attention to where I was going, I ran into the path of a man and his family coming up to the entrance of the hotel. I spun out of the way and stopped myself by making hard contact with a lamppost.

Lynn rushed over and half-pulled me out of the way, while I rubbed my shoulder that had collided with the post. “We’re so very sorry for getting in your way,” she apologized breathlessly.

“Hey, next time, pay more attention.”

Looking up, I mumbled a quick apology to him and backed out of the way. Trying to catch my breath, I spotted a girl and a boy peering out from behind the man, who I could only assume to be their father. The boy was younger than I was, not more than eight or nine, but the girl was around my age. Her gaze caught my attention and held it with gentle intensity. She regarded me with an air of curiosity, an innocent smile seeking refuge on her lips.

“‘ello.”

Part: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, to be continued…

The steady humming of the jet’s engines had eased me onto a plane of purgatory, devoid of physical trappings. My thoughts swirled around, constructing a private mental barrier that sound and other distractions could not penetrate. Staring at the ceiling, I thought about the days following my graduation from middle school; routine days of uncertainty and doubt.

There were times when Jess’ image would flicker against the backdrop of my mind’s eye, as I routinely went about my days, casting a heavy iron-laden net over my conscience. There were moments of weakness and self-loathing, for I recalled those very last minutes of our encounter. I had lots of time by myself to ponder the things I said and wondered if I had made the right choice. I had second thoughts about getting on this plane, believing that, maybe, just maybe if I had stayed behind, things might possibly be mended.

But on the other hand, there are some things that aren’t worth salvaging. This might have been one of those times.

If I had stayed, what could I possibly do anyway? Could what we had be mended? Was there any way to piece together what we had? Maybe even a friendship? There wasn’t a day that went by where my logic and my heart refused to fight, shedding each other’s blood on the battlefield of my soul. Weighing the pros and cons turned into some sort of sickness, a torturous way to pass the time.

Nothing could be done about it now, seeing how I was 35,000 feet in the air, soaring east, on our way to France.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Lynn asked.

“Nothing really. Just stuff that happened at school before I graduated.”

“Oh, like what? Girls?” she said jokingly, as she prodded me with her elbow.

I looked over at her, and didn’t say much more, giving her pause to her familial teasing. Shrugging, I went back to staring out of the window at the skies, and the growing darkness that was equal to the growing bitterness that was taking over the space in my heart. I knew that it was supposed to be a fun, family trip, but a large part of myself refused to let me enjoy it. It would rather I suffer the constant soakings in the vat of pain that I had created.

Lynn was my favorite cousin. She was 4 years older than I was, but the closest family member to me in age, aside from my younger sister. She was well into her high school years, and since she was the only child in her own family, she was used to the older sister role in mine. Although she had my respect and love, she knew that she couldn’t push me too far. I was physically bigger and stronger than her, and I often treated her as an equal, rather than with awe and admiration.

“Yeah, some things happen this past year between me and a girl. Another guy was involved, and it’s eating me alive,” I confessed quietly.

“So, what happened?”

Long moments passed before the words slowly tumbled end over end, spilling out of my mouth like a roaring river that had been dammed up for too long. All the sadness, anger, resentment and bitterness that had been suppressed for the last few months was suddenly released in a geyser-like shower. I wasn’t really talking to her, sometimes looking out the window or looking at the floor, trying to keep myself from getting overly emotional. As I recited my story from the beginning, I filled in bits and pieces of missing background along the way. When I was finished, I sat back and sighed, looking out of the window once again. I felt a great weight lift from my shoulders and the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomache eased a bit.

Minutes passed before she leaned over and hugged me tightly, acutely aware of the pain I must have been going through. She didn’t utter a word for a long time, and just held my slumped shoulders in her arms, trying to give me as much comfort as she could. Letting go, she sat back and looked at me with a proud glint in her eye.

“I guess you’re not a kid anymore,” she said with an air of finality.

“Oh? Was I ever a kid to begin with?” I joked.

There was some truth to that, seeing how I somehow found the short cut to growing up, due to my precociousness. Unfortunately, understanding the world around me and growing up quickly didn’t mean that I was mature. My maturity came in random spurts and unpredictable bursts, which more often got me into trouble, than kept me out of it.

“Yeah, you’ll always be a kid, but I’m pleasantly surprised and proud of how well you’ve handled this whole ordeal. There might be hope for you yet.”

“Yeah, well, I understand, but it doesn’t hurt any less,” I said, choking back the sadness that still permeated my skin, like thousands of fiery needles.

“Things will get better, believe me, but try to leave it behind you, if just for this trip. You don’t want them to worry about you, if you’re moping around all the time, do you?”

“No, I guess not. Don’t want them to call home and have Mom get on my case about it.”

An announcement pulled our attention away from the conversation and directed it outside the plane. It was dark out as the wingtips grazed the topmost layer of clouds blanketing the city. They were scant and gave the well-lit city an ethereal feel, like being trapped inside of a fog machine as strobe-lights flashed all about. It was a beautiful sight to behold, the city filled with glittering lights, filtering through the clouds that surrounded the area. We had already begun our descent and spent the next 15 mins getting used to the change in cabin pressure.

A sharp jerk and squeal of the wheels told me we had touched down and we were taxiing toward the gate.

Paris; the city of love, light, and splendor.

“Bonjour, Paris, la ville de la lumière.” I muttered.

We had arrived.

Part: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, to be continued…

She made no move to come closer to me, but seemed to only be polite and cordial.

“That was a great duet,” she ventured.

I stared at her a few moments before turning my gaze back toward the darkening horizon. You could barely see the sun casting its fiery, blood-kissed arms of light into the panoramic evening sky. It had turned a hazy purplish-red, the blues mixing with the lingering tendrils of sunlight, turning it into a chaotic kaleidoscope of colors. It was exactly what I was feeling at that moment; a jumble of ricocheting pinballs inside my chest, making it hard to breathe.

Nodding my head slightly, I replied,”Yeah, it was, but of course, you carried us through it all.”

“No, I think you’re the one who moved the audience,” she whispered quietly.

“Oh? I see. I guess there was just something that I could empathize with,” I murmured.

“I’m really sorry. I’m so sorry about what happened. I didn’t mean it to end up that way,” she blurted out. Her eyes began to sparkle and shine, as tears began to form at the edges of her eyes. Her face was a mask of sadness, fighting to hold back the eruption of grief.

“Hey, it’s ok. You can’t help what you feel. That’s just the way things are, that’s all.”

“Do you forgive me?” she asked hesitantly, wiping her face to prevent the waterworks from exploding.

“I don’t know, Jess. It still hurts, but I’m not mad at you anymore. I’m not sure exactly. I just don’t know…” I murmured.

She took a couple of steps closer and stood facing me. “Are we friends? I guess I can’t expect you to say ‘yes’, but I hope that one day, we can be friends again.” Her voice cracked with the strain. Within those words I detected an echoing heartbreak, and I almost caved in. I still cared about her well-being and I never liked to see someone I cared for in such pain, even though she had unintentionally created the tornado that we got sucked into.

“Yeah, maybe, one day.” My tone was sorrowful, but edged with a certain hardness. I didn’t want to let her back in. We had always been good friends, but I couldn’t totally forgive her transgressions. That chaotic entanglement had crushed me; more than I would ever admit. And the wounds had barely begun to scab over.

They still itched daily.

The space between us became silent, enveloping us, and blocked out the chatter of the others mingling around. The distress clung to her like strands of matted, wet hair. The disquiet threatened to punch a hole in her mask, and would have capsized the boat of liquid crystals that was desperately trying to stay afloat. I looked up and took a deep breath. Breathing a sigh, I started to speak.

“Hey, big brotherrrrr…” my sister sang.

Her voice snapped me out of my trance, and I looked over to see her bounding toward me with two of her friends in tow. She didn’t notice Jess, or my somber mood, and ran up to me excitedly.

“Hey, guess what?” she crowed.

Before I could even open my mouth, she blew right up to me like an electrifying whirlwind. “Mom and dad have a surprise for you! Guess what it is? Guess!”

I knew my sister, and I knew her well. That’s why I never answered any of her rhetorical questions because before I could ever respond, she’d end up telling me anyway. Looking at her, I raised a questioning eyebrow and that was the only signal she needed before she let loose.

“They’re sending you to France!” She was practically jumping up and down with glee, even though she wouldn’t be going along. She was simply excited because she could break the news to me, her all-knowing brother.

“Wha? Europe? France?” I asked in disbelief.

“Yeah! France, Switzerland and I forgot the other place. Dad said that Aunt and Uncle, along with Lynn are going this summer and they asked if you would like to go. Dad thought that it’d be good for you to get out there and understand and appreciate other countries, or something like that.” She was almost tearing apart at the seams with giddiness.

She always had a habit of speed talking when she was excited. Often, only people who were familiar with her speech patterns could follow her vocalizations. There were times when even our parents got confused when she got going. I was used to her jabbering though, being able to filter out all the extraneous information, leaving me with the essential parts.

“Ahhh, I see.” I replied.

This was part of my father’s philosophy. The only way for one to learn and grow, is to go out there and experience it for themselves. To learn, you must be given the chance and then what you do with that chance is up to you, but you shouldn’t waste it. He didn’t believe in coddling or the easy path. There was no easy path or shortcuts to achieving greatness, or success. You worked hard and tried your best, even when you’re lost and alone. If you dig yourself a hole, you pull yourself out of it.

I knew my father and the ideology that he dished out, although I didn’t often follow it at the time. I was young, stupid and immature. But as I would later grow into adulthood, I would truly understand and appreciate the enormous gift he had given me.

“So? You want to go or not? Mom and Dad are talking to people and wanted me to find you and ask you what you wanted to do.”

My sister’s question snapped me out of my thoughts.

“Sure, I guess I can go. It’s gonna just be Aunt, Uncle, Lynn and me?” I queried. “You’re not coming?”

She responded with a snort. “Nope! I’ve got soccer camp and practice this summer and I’m not going to miss that.”

“Yeah, go tell Mom and Dad that I’ll go. There’s not much left for me here.” I said, casting a sideways glance at Jess, who was still standing there, watching our exchange.

Why not go? Thinking about it, I realized that I needed a change. I needed to get away from this burden, and by the time I came back, maybe this would all be over and done with. Then there was the new start next year, in high school.

“Ok! I’ll see you later big brotherrrrr…” she yelled back toward me, as she ran off.

“So I guess you’re going to Europe this summer,” Jess said quietly. “I guess it’s for the best.”

“Yeah, I guess so. After all, it is Europe. I don’t get to go that often, you know. I’ve gotta run now.”

I hopped off the stage and turned to go. Grabbing my arm, she stopped me from walking away.

“Send me a postcard when you’re there, ok? I’ve never been to France before.”

“Sure thing,” I said, while nodding. “I’ll see you later, Jess.”

Walking away, I glanced back at her silent silhouette, and thought I saw falling tears. It could have been my imagination, because there was nothing left for me here.

Part: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22.

Melody and harmony. The cascading chords wafted through the air, gently borne on the effortless strength of well-trained voices. Notes floated and settled on the hands and faces of our parents and loved ones, covering them like a blanket of breeze-blown scented petals. The lingering notes swirled and embraced the listeners, as they found purchase in their hearts.

The sound of clapping echoed through the auditorium as the song ended. My eyes swept across the crowd, anticipating what was to happen next. Climbing down the steps, I made my way to the front of the assembled choir. Spotting Jess, I noticed her picking her way through her section, choosing a path to where I stood.

When she reached me, we each took a mic in our hands and waited for the cues from our conductor. I looked at her, trying to catch her eye, but she hardly paid any attention to me. She kept rubbing her fingers together, trying to dissolve the nervousness that showed in her posture. Finally peeking up at me, I tried to reassure her with a smile, but she didn’t seem to notice. Seeing me watching her, she looked away, embarrassed and rubbed her hands together.

A quizzical expression crossed my face, as a question flashed through my mind. What was she thinking? But before I could explore that thought further, the piano started playing. Almost losing my cue during that brief lapse in concentration, I opened my mouth just in time.

Lining up in a room off to one side of the auditorium, we waited for our cues. There was still a flurry of activity, last minute preparations and fine-tuning, because this was to be our last performance of the year. Parents, family members and friends had already filed in and filled many of the seats, then passed the time by greeting each other and talking among themselves. When we finally climbed onto that open-air stage, I looked out across the expansive space at the audience sitting there, waiting.

A cool, late-spring breeze swept by, bringing with it the smell of freshly cut grass and budding flowerbeds. The bright evening sky was was unusually warm for that time of year, considering that summer was not yet upon us. Tugging at my freshly-pressed collar of my shirt and tie, I tried to stay comfortable, but still wasn’t used to dressing up for such events.

We had been warming up in an adjacent room for the last hour, waiting for this concert to start. Everyone felt it, the palpable tension that fill the air. For the 8th graders including me, this was to be our crowning achievement, the last few pieces that we would ever perform before we moved onto high school.

Mounting those bleacher steps took more effort than I expected. My feet were struggling to find their place, just like the emotional tremors trying to find their place within my chest. Looking toward my left, I could see Jess among the other sopranos, fidgeting and looking ill-prepared for our very last concert of our middle school careers.

The look on her face didn’t betray her feelings much, but I knew her well enough to be able to tell that she wasn’t comfortable or happy. Something was bothering her, and the stress showed, if you knew where to look. I wondered if the audience could see through my facial facade and read the tell-tale signs of anxiety I was also experiencing.

As my mind wondered about mundane details, I calmed a bit. Looking around, I tried to take in the entire scene before me. The sight, the sounds and the vibes permeating the air. Turning my head, I caught Jess looking at me, so I raised an eyebrow and gave her a friendly smirk, as she quickly looked away and resumed her stoic composure.

I wondered if she was thinking about the same thing that I was.

Nah, she couldn’t be.

Part: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22.

Sitting on somewhat damp and cold wooden benches, I looked out across the field of green grass tipped with sparkling shards of morning dew. Sporadic growths of wild grass and weeds peppered the landscape, pushing through the damp earth, spreading out their leaves and clutching at the dim morning rays of sunshine. The morning chill’s bite caressed my face, leaving it tingling and ruddy with blood pumped from the inner coils of my core, pushing the cold away.

Remembering the madness that swept me up in its forceful grasp, I wondered what it would be like to fly away, leaving the events of this chaotic year behind. Turning over different images in my mind; the good, the bad, and the truly ugly moments ricocheted around, causing me to sigh audibly. I stared into the morning sun, praying that it would burn the darkness from my soul, as I searched for the answers to my own internal struggles.

A flutter of wings and the sharp cries of crows shook me from my thoughts, as I marked their wedge-shaped flight into the blue horizon. What would it be like to grow some wings and take off, climbing high into the sky, viewing the world from a safe distance? How would it feel to be away from all this and start anew?

“Hey there, what’s going on?” a voice called to me, breaking nature’s silence.

Looking over, I saw Anne walk toward me.

Putting a foot on the bench, I turned to watch her striding over. The interplay of her muscles made her gait sure-footed and easy; something to admire, but from a distance. There was nothing between us but friendship, but one couldn’t help but admire her athleticism. She was one of the more active girls at school, playing many sports and was a natural talent in almost anything she participated in. She was also a good friend of mine, who always spoke her mind.

“Not much, really,” I replied. “Just some things that I’ve been trying to sort out, after that whole incident with Jess and Andrew.”

Looking at me with a bit of concern, she hit me on the head with her binder, then plunked down on the bench beside me.

“Don’t go off and get into trouble again, you hear me?” she scolded.

Raising my eyebrow at her, I made a sound like a cross between a sigh and a scoff.

“Don’t worry so much. I’m not looking to put him into the hospital anymore. They can have each other for all I care,” I replied.

“Good, cause that little incident was one of the most retarded things you’ve ever done,” she said with a sense of finality, nodding to herself.

“So I saw your end of the year concert yesterday. You sounded good, even though she was your partner in that duet. Not sure how you kept it together, but you did.” She looked over and smiled at me, trying to be a good friend and reassure me that things would be ok.

“Yeah, I guess it was ok,” my thoughts drifting away from the present.

Memories of the concert were still quite fresh inside my mind, since it had only happened yesterday. It was the very last concert that I would ever participate in as an 8th grader, and I had to share the stage with the one who shattered me.

Getting onto that stage, mentally and emotionally intact, was one of the most difficult steps I had ever taken.

But it was something I had to do.

Part: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22.

The lock clicked open and I entered the house. Someone was typically home, so I halted my footsteps to listen for any noise that would indicate the presence of family members and found none. It was eerily quiet, which was somewhat strange, but I welcomed the silence; recent events weighing heavily on my mind.

Avoiding my father took top priority, before I could actually clean up. If he had seen me in this condition, I would have been facing a long, torturous lecture; punishment notwithstanding. He never worried about my physical health and well-being, but his frustrations and disappointments usually stemmed from knowing and understanding his son. My passionate stubbornness, youthful recklessness and lack of respect for the consequences of my actions in certain situations, would often cause him grief. It wasn’t that I didn’t understand the situations I found myself in. I simply chose to blaze my own path, regardless of the possibilities of doom.

This fight would be one of those kinds of situations.

Sliding my shoes off, I padded through the wooden hallways in my socks, checking the commonly used rooms and found no one around. Sorting through a quick checklist in mind, I looked at my clothes and realized that I needed to hide the evidence. Recalling that I had laundry to do, I bound up the stairs to my room and stripped off my shirt.

“Shit, there’s blood on it,” I muttered to myself. “Guess this is going into the wash too.”

Grabbing my dirty clothes, I headed back downstairs to the laundry room. It would take a few minutes to fill the washer, so I took the time to put together a story if someone questioned me about my injuries. As the tale formed in my mind, images and actions of the fight flashed through it as well. Poring over the frames locked inside, I knew that I had hurt him pretty badly. A pang of sadness and guilt came along with those images, as the power of my father’s words echoed through the core of my soul.

“Your skill in martial arts is exceptional. You’ve been trained since you were very young to hone those talents, but to also temper them with discipline and patience. What I’m afraid of is that you end up losing control or you act recklessly and end up severely hurting someone else, possibly even killing them. There are things in this world that time and money can’t heal. Try to keep that in mind.”

Those words, words I had heard time and time again, but had disregarded as the words of a worrisome parent, sank into my gut. It was the kind of gut check I wasn’t prepared for, nor welcomed. My vision overflowed with guilt as the consequences of my actions steadily became real to me.

What if I had snapped his neck? At one point, he did go limp in my arms and those were metal lockers. What if I had damaged his head or face so badly that I disrupted parts of his nervous system? It wasn’t impossible, having seen such an event during a tournament some years ago. My actions could have done permanent damage and I would forever reap the repercussions of such a calamity.

Listening to the sound of rushing water, I hung my head as those torrential feelings swept over me. The introspective lesson that I learned hurt more than any lecture my father could ever give me. My shoulders shook, as a chill ran up my spine and I put my face in my hands.

“I really need to make better choices, at least make decisions when I’m calm and collected,” I said to myself.

Sighing, I grabbed the laundry basket to head back upstairs. I knew that I couldn’t tell my family what happened, lest I felt like facing the wrath of my father. I had lost Jess, lost my heart and now lost my head. I couldn’t turn to my family, and my friends probably wouldn’t understand the burden that I carried. Some day someone would, but until then, I put it aside, filing it away in a memory archive.

Turning the corner, I trudged through the house, feeling dejected and utterly alone.

Part: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22.

Dropping back on my right foot, his body slammed into mine, knocking me back a few steps before I regained my balance. He attempted to push me over, but I held my precarious balance by shifting my weight to match his pushing.

I wasn’t used to close quarters combat, but being bigger than most guys our age, I generally wasn’t very worried. His arms were locked around my chest, head down, trying to bowl me over. When it didn’t succeed, he flailed wildly; a fist catching me once in the shoulder and another connected with my face. A jolt of pain registered inside my head, igniting the angry fuel I had let build up inside and I retaliated. All I could see was the back of his head, so I started pounding on it like an out-of-control jackhammer.

Peering over my shoulder to get my bearings, I spied a dull-grey tint of metal coming from the row of lockers behind me. Glancing down, his head was pressed up against my ribs, right underneath my left arm. Wrapping an arm around his neck, I half-fell and half-yanked him toward me, slamming into the metal lockers, my back arching with the jarring impact.

Holding onto his head by his neck and chin, I kept ramming his head and face into the lockers, totally unaware that with each resounding impact, I was hurting myself as well. Anger and hate motivated me now and it only increased my animosity toward him. It became an endless loop. The pain I felt, only fanned the flames of destruction in my heart.

What did I do to deserve this? My situation with Jessica and now this. I didn’t start this mayhem, but was going to put a stop to it once and for all. I didn’t want this to continue. My pain, her pain and now his. Life wasn’t supposed to be like this. Sadness, pain and sorrow; I could understand those things, but this was stupid on a whole different level.

“Stop! Please, stop!” she screamed.

My head jerked up and looked into the tear-streaked face of hysteria. She must have seen the wild look in my eyes as our eyes met. Momentarily frozen in place by her cries, my chest heaved and my lungs gasped for breath. I finally felt the arms of friends holding onto me, trying to separate us. Snapping my head back and forth, I met each face with a look and growled,”Get the fuck away from me or you’re next.”

She stepped forward and approached me, as the others backed away.

“Please, let him go.” She was crying and shaking.

“Dude, come on, it’s over. You’ve won, just let him go,” Eugene said, holding my arm.

Looking first at Jess, then at Eugene, the options tumbled through the dark recesses of my mind. I had known Eugene since we were in elementary school and was one of the very few people who I trusted, implicitly. Letting out a long exasperated breath, I looked down at Andrew, still locked in my grip, finally realizing that he was quietly sobbing. “Fine, you can have him,” I bit out with such hate and anger that she backed up a step.

I let go of his neck and shoved him away from me, all the adrenaline drained from my body. Backing up, I collapsed against a wall and looked over at her, tasting blood. Gingerly touching my lip, I put my jaw in my hand and rocked it back and forth, causing my friend, Pain, to reintroduce himself. Reaching back, I felt the bumps and bruises that were already starting to form on my back.

Jess leaned over him, holding his head, dabbing his face with wet paper towels. Others gathered around, encircling them to gawk and check on his injuries. She covered his bloodied face with some damp towels, one side was already puffy from the swelling.

“Here, man, take this,” Eugene said, handing me a stack of paper towels, half of them wet.

“You’ve got a fat lip and you’re still bleeding a bit,” he stated, examining me with curious eyes.

“Thanks,” I muttered, unconsciously reaching out to shake his hand. “You’re a real friend, G, unlike some people.”

“Don’t worry ’bout it. I was just afraid you had completely lost it and I’d have to try and take you down.” He chuckled and shook his head. “You fucken kicked his ass, but scared the shit out of everyone.”

We both turned to my left, to see a gap in the circle and I found her face red and streaked with tears, confused eyes, mixed in with sadness. They didn’t hold any anger or malice, just regret. A few seconds passed and I turned away.

Slamming my fist into one of the lockers, I dented the locker and felt a fresh spasm of pain as my skin tore away. Leaning my head against the cool metal surface, my anger slowly abated. Spinning around, I started toward the circle where Jess still sat. Feeling his hand on my shoulder, I turned to see him standing there, questions and concern in his eyes.

“Just let it go, man. It’s over.”

“Nothing is gonna happen,” I said, shrugging off his loose grip.

Covering my bleeding fist with a paper towel, I slowly made my way over to where they were. Looking straight at her, my face, impassive and stoic, I unloaded.

“I didn’t start this fight, but I sure as hell ended it. If you want to blame me for it, then go ahead, I don’t care anymore. Andrew’s a moron and he deserved what he got. After all of this, you know what I realized? I care for you, more than you can possibly know, but it isn’t worth this kind of anguish. I’m in love with a girl who doesn’t deserve my love. You don’t even deserve his love, but if he still wants you, fine. I don’t want to be a part of this anymore.”

The silent tears flowed without interruption. The devastation in her gaze cut deeper than any bleeding wound. Turning my back on her, I walked away. The first few steps were the hardest, my heart throbbed with pain, my back wincing quietly in unison. Agonizing over my choice, I wanted to turn around and go back to her, to somehow comfort her, but I’d simply be hanging myself with a noose tied by my own hands.

A sigh escaped my lips, footfalls echoing off the walls while the distance grew. It was simply too late.

Part: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22.