The Unlived Life

Looking in the mirror as I ruffle my damp hair, I give myself a pep talk.

“Come on, Dan, you know you don’t want to go to school; but you have to. It’s what dad would have wanted.”

I stare at my reflection and am reminded of how much I look just like dad. I have the same color eyes, his facial structure, and his dark hair. I realize I’m looking at my dad in the mirror. I force myself to stop staring at the reflection on the other side. I breathe so deeply I Can feel the burning in my lungs. A trick mom taught me to help calm me down after the accident. It’s been six weeks and I have not been the same. I can still feel the pain in my left leg and the back of my head.

I grab my backpack off the bathroom floor and try to remember how to move my legs. Heading down the hall, I get myself mentally ready for the day. Another long day of classes I have no desire to attend. Mom gets of the couch and grabs her car keys. She looks at me with the same pained expression on her face as I do every time that I see my reflection. I know she sees dad every time she looks at me.

“Ready to go, Dan?”

“Yeah,” I say with a sigh.

I head out the door behind mom Suddenly, I have this massive headache that nearly brings me to my knees, my vision gets blurry. Mom doesn’t notice, so when it disappears as quickly as it comes, I proceed to the car. I put my backpack in the back seat and slide into the front, adjusting the seat so that I’m lying back. I put my right thumb and middle finger to my temples and close my eyes.

“Did it happen again?” Mom sounds concerned.

I nod my head, not wanting to talk. I haven’t felt like talking much since the accident.

What’s worse is the flashbacks and the dreams. Every time I go to sleep, I see my father dying. It repeats over and over like a broken record. When I open my eyes, I see the school parking lot coming into view. I let out another sigh, thinking of what’s to come. Dread starts creeping up into my chest. Mom stops right at the door, and I grab my backpack from the back seat and get out of the car.

“Have a good day!” Mom calls out to me. I turn around and give her a half-hearted smirk. I don’t feel much like smiling anymore.

When I open the door, I feel a rush of cold air brush past my face. It’s a welcome feeling. Even though it is October, I feel like it is July. I walk past everyone in the hallway with my head down. When I reach my first class, I throw my backpack down and pull up a seat in the far corner of the room where I’m by myself. Luckily, first period is a study period where people come to do unfinished homework. I don’t have any homework to finish so I use this time to go to sleep. I lay my head on my left arm, while my right arm is draped over the desk.

“So, what do you want for dinner tonight?” Dad asks as we all sit at the kitchen island.

“We should go to Dean’s Diner!” I suggest my favorite place to eat. Dean’s is the best diner in Wichita, Kansas.

“Good idea, Danny!” Mom chimes in. I smile, my blue eyes gleaming.

Heading back home after dinner, it starts pouring rain. Dad is driving, I’m in the back behind dad, and mom is in the passenger seat, of course, admiring dad.

“Have I ever told you, Dan, of the time when I met your mom? I was a sophomore, just like you, when this new girl walked into the classroom. It was like I had seen an angel…”

“DAD!” I shout, but it is too late; the oncoming truck hits us straight on. The car flips several times before stopping. Everything goes black.

I jump up, heart racing like a freight train. Everyone’s getting up to leave, looking at me; some of them holding back laughter. I look around and realize the bell is what brought my back to reality. I grab my backpack, feeling slightly weak. These nightmares are taking their toll on me. I don’t rush to my second class. History is not something I look forward to. I take my seat just as the late bell sounds. For the past month, I have taken to sitting in the back of every class. I can’t deal with people constantly staring at me. It makes me nervous. The teacher drones on in a monotonous voice and I manage to drown her out, daydreaming. Thankfully, she never calls on me anymore. I can sit back in my seat quietly and fade into the background. It is very easy to do lately.

The bell finally rings, and I am one of the first to leave. I go straight o the bathroom to splash some water on my face. That’s when the headache starts. I grip the sink for dear life as I try not to fall to my knees. When I can see again, I look at myself in the mirror and, still gripping the sink, throw up stomach acid. I wipe my mouth off and leave the bathroom. When I look around, I realize I am late for English Literature. I pass my teacher on the way to class. He is taking his usual mid-morning bathroom break.

“You’re lucky, Mr. Sims; I haven’t taken attendance yet. You better be in class by the time I get back.

I nod and continue walking. When I get to class, I notice someone took my usual seat. My blood pressure quickly rises. I reach my seat and drop my books at the desk.

“Is there something wrong?” Kyle Marks has a little smug look on his face.

“I’m going to give you ten seconds to get up or I will remove you myself.” I threaten Kyle. I am in no mood to be messed with today.

“Yeah? What are you going to do about it?”

“Get up or I will remove you myself.” I say slowly.

“You won’t do anything. What would your daddy think?” Kyle mocks.

That is when I lose it. I grab Kyle by his throat and throw him out of my seat. I can’t stop myself from pounding every inch of his face while he’s on the ground. My fist hits him repeatedly. I am on top of him, blood all over his face, my right hand. I can barely hear the class shouting things like ‘get off him!’ and ‘you’re going to kill him!’. I don’t care at this point; I keep breaking every inch of him until the gym teacher and my English Lit teacher pull me off of him. I try to break away, but they have a tight grip under my shoulders. I look at Kyle and I can feel a satisfied, sinister grin turn up on my lips.

The teachers take me, still with a tight grip under my shoulders, to the principal’s office. I hear my English Lit teacher telling someone to call the police and an ambulance. I hear Kyle’s cries of agony. It feels like forever that they take me to the office down the end of the hall. My head is swimming and adrenaline courses through my veins like a raging river. The teachers sit me down in front of the desk and explain to the principal what happened. The principal gets a look of horror and shock as he rushes to the classroom to check on my victim.

“Stay with him. Do not let him out of your sight!” He says as he runs down the hall.

I hear the sirens approaching and I start to panic. My breath gets heavy and my heart pounds like a jackhammer. I get flashbacks of the accident; the EMTs are trying to talk to me while the rescue team gets the Jaws-Of-Life to cut me out of the car.

The teachers guarding me try to calm me down. I jump up and throw the chair across the room, back up against the wall, fall to my knees and scream. The coach tries to make a move toward me, but my English Lit teacher hold up a hand to stop him.

“Let him get it out; this is six weeks of pent-up emotions.” I hear him say in a low voice.

After a moment, I take a few deep, shaky breaths and drape my arm over my knees. I lean my head against the wall and take more quick breaths with my eyes closed. My throat is on fire. I’m afraid to look at my teachers; I know I made a huge mistake. I hear talking outside the door now. A hand touches my shoulder and I jump. Opening my eyes, I am staring into the face of my English Lit teacher. I see the coach, with a hesitant look on his face, standing behind him. My English Lit teacher, still wht his hand gently on my shoulder, speaks in a calming tone.

“You’re going to be alright, Dan. I understand you didn’t mean to do it. They are taking Kyle to the hospital now.”

I just shake my head in shame. I hate what I did; I hate that I can’t take it back. Just then, a police officer and a paramedic come in with the principal. The paramedic comes over to me and helps me off the floor while the officer sets the chair back to its upright position. I, with the help of the paramedic, walk over to the chair and sit down. The officer stands behind me, hands on his Taser just as a precaution. I am a threat to these people. The paramedic gets out her portable blood pressure cuff and begins to take my vital signs. I stare at the ground as I try to control my uneven breathing. She finishes my blood pressure, taking the cuff off my arm gently. I see her reach into her medical bag and pull out a needle filled with clear liquid. I give her a scared look.

“It’s okay, this is just a sedative to help lower your blood pressure and heart rate. You are having Tachycardia. That’s basically a fancy way of saying your heart is beating too fast.” She explains while she sticks the needle into my arm. I wince a little.

Immediately, I feel my breathing return to normal. I continue to look at the ground as the paramedic begins to bandage my hand, which I didn’t know was bleeding until just now. I groan and close my eyes. The paramedic is telling me that I broke my hand and I need to go to the hospital and get it put in a proper cast. I lift my head and see my English Lit teacher on the left side of me, loyally staying with me to make sure that I am okay. To my right, I see the police officer, noticing his massive arms crossed over his broad chest. The paramedic is in front of me, taking my vital signs again to make sure the sedative is doing its job.

“Well, it looks like your heart rate and blood pressure are in a normal range now.” The paramedic pats me gently on the shoulder. “I want to see you today so I can put a proper cast on that hand.”

I nod and she leaves the principal’s office. The principal dismisses my English Lit teacher and the gym teacher, leaving me with himself and the officer. The cop was probably there for his protection. My head isn’t swimming as much but I feel almost numb. Now the principal decides to speak.

“Mr. Sims…”

“Its Dan. Mr. Sims was my dad.” I correct him with a look on my face like the look I had right before I attacked Kyle.

“Fine, Dan, I am going to call your mother here to discuss further disciplinary action. Officer Beasley is here so that you don’t do anything else to hurt either me or yourself.”

I sigh while the principal calls mom and explains why he is calling.

“Ms. Sims? Hi, this is Principal Charleston from Wichita High School. I need you to come to my office as soon as possible. I have your son here with me and there are a few things I need to discuss with you.”

“What happened?” I hear mom over the speaker.

“I cannot disclose that over the phone, Ma’am.”

“I’ll be down there in ten minutes!”

The principal hangs up the phone then looks at me. It seems like he’s afraid to say anything. After about a minute, he interlocks his fingers and leans forward.

“I – I didn’t think you had it in you, Dan. You used to be a good student. I am highly concerned about your well-being.”

The effects of the sedative are wearing off. I start shaking my leg nervously and the police officer gives me a warning look. The bell ending third period goes off and I jump, making the principal on edge. The officer looks like he’s about to pull out his taser, but the principal holds up a hand to let him know to stand down. He stands back and I continue shaking my leg until mom gets here. That’s when I really start to get nervous. I start breathing heavily.

Mom knocks on the door rapidly but quietly. She comes in when the officer opens the door. She looks to the officer, then to me, then to the principal. I can barely look her in the eyes.

“Have a seat, please.” The officer instructs her to take a seat beside me. The first thing mom does is try to calm me down. I take three deep, burning breaths then let them out slowly.

“Now, will someone please tell me why my son is here, why there is an officer here, and why my son’s hand is wrapped in bloody gauze?”

“Ms. Sims, shortly after the third period bell, there was an altercation between your son and Kyle Marks. Dan, according to several witnesses, tackled Kyle to the ground and proceeded to beat him repeatedly. It took two teachers to pull him off Mr. Marks. Kyle has been taken to the hospital. The offier is here for my protection and to make sre dan doesn’t do anything to hurt himself.” Principal Charleston explains calmly.

“Oh my God! Is this true, Dan?” she looks at me for confirmation and I only nod once. Principal Charleston continues to talk.

“Now, the paramedic highly suggests that Dan be taken to the hospital to properly cast his broken hand. Further information will be given to you by the nurse who took care of Dan after the incident. As for his further attendance at this school, I am forced to expel your son.”

“Okay, I will take him to the hospital as soon as we leave here. As for the expulsion, I trust you’ve made the right decision for the safety of your students.”

“Thank you, Ma’am, for your understanding; and Dan, I wish you the best in your life.”

I nod once and then get up, my right hand cradled with my good hand. I follow mom out of the office and the officer follows me. This makes me nervous. As we get out the door ther is a cold chill in the air. The officer stops mom to tell her something.

“I am going to follow you to the hospital and make sure he gets in without incident.” It is not a suggestion. He means business.

“Why? He isn’t some common criminal. He isn’t going to do anything else.”

“All due respect, Ma’am, there is a malicious air to him. The victim’s face is almost unrecognizably beaten.”

“Ok then, follow us to the hospital if that’s what you feel like doing.” Mom is irritated.

She unlocks the car and starts the engine before I even get in. I sit down and accidentally bump my broken hand. I let out an involuntary growl of pain. Mom pulls out of the parking lot before she says anything to me.

“Speak up, Daniel. What made you do something so horrid?”

“I – I just lost. He was mocking dad and I just snapped.”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with you these days. I am very concerned, son. You hardly ever talk anymore, you are withdrawn. Now doing God knows what to the boy?”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what is going on with me either. I don’t know who I am anymore. I can’t even look at myself in the mirror.” I burst into tears, sobbing into my good hand.

“It’s okay, Dan. We will settle all this out soon.”