“Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!” As much as James wanted to ignore the chants of the teenagers surrounding him, he could not. He was certain, however, that the shouts were not the worst part of his present situation. His nose was bleeding and his head was throbbing loudly from the blows he had already received. How was it that he got into this mess again?

Brad Peterson, the tall, bulky, red head jock in front of him, aimed another blow. Luckily, James managed to duck this time. He knew Brad weighed and measured in height more than he did. Brad was probably ten times stronger than he, too. Why didn’t he care then? Why had he recklessly punched the guy for no apparent reason? Had he had a reason? The encounter had only started minutes ago but James could not recall the events before it.

“Kill him Peterson!” One of the jock’s accomplices called.

The encouraging shout for his opponent roused James’ the fury even more. He rushed towards Brad as fast as he could, launching with his left. The jock held the first punch with his hand but didn’t notice James’ other fist coming from the right. Brad was thrown aback. James took the opportunity to hit his challenger straight in the nose, making him bleed and fall down to the floor.

“What the hell’s going on here?!” The outraged demand stood in the air for less than a second. Then everyone began to flee. Only three people stood in the parking lot now: Brad Peterson, James Rolland and Principal Andrew Collins.

“Mr. Rolland! In my office! Now!” shouted Collins.

“I wasn’t the only one in the fight!” protested James.

“I will see Mr. Peterson later.”

“But-“

“I said now!”

James frowned and pursed his lips defiantly but made no other complaints to accompany the Principal. The office was a small room with a wide window at the back facing the inner grounds of the school. On the left wall stood a wooden book shelf alongside a file cabinet and from the right wall hung several certificates. James sat on one of the two chairs across the desk, which was set in front of the window. Mr. Collins stood a few moments staring down at the student but finally settled down behind the desk.

Through all his thirty-five years working with the public educational system he had seen several cases like James’ but, for some reason, this seventeen year old senior struck him harder than others. Why he felt so attached to the boy he did not know. Perhaps the reason stood behind his actually knowing how this boy came to be where he now was. Of course he had seen angry, trouble making adolescents before, but never had he met the person before the anger. James was different. The boy had been his neighbor since the age of ten. He had always been a straight A student. He was also a great athlete, even use to be the soccer team captain. Yet, three weeks ago James had dropped off the soccer team and lately his grades had been going down.

“This is your third fight of the week, James.” said the principal. The boy shrugged. “Well, it’s Friday so you won’t have to deal with me for at least two days.”

“You live next door, remember?” the old man reminded him. “So? Stay away from my house then.” The old man was quiet for a few moments, reflexive. How two months can change a person…, he thought. James raised his gaze for a moment, intrigued by the silence, but once his eyes met the Principal’s he looked back down.

“Are you going to tell my mom?” As soon as he pronounced the question, James regretted it. He sounded like a seven year old child trying to hide away from inevitable trouble.

“I think she has suffered enough.” The words sounded harsh, almost accusing.
James felt piercing pain stab his chest. His breathing became deep. He was trying to calm himself, trying to ignore the guilt. “You can’t keep this up Jay. Your grades are going down. During the past months, you’ve been in so many fights I have already lost count. You can’t stay angry for the rest of your life. Especially if don’t want to keep hurting your mother.”

“It’s not my fault, ok?!” He exploded, standing up while he shouted the next words. “Even if I go back to being the perfect son, the ideal student. You think that’s going to matter?! You think she’s going to stop crying at night?! You think she’s going to stop missing him?! You think I’m going to stop missing him?! He’s not coming back!”

The principal sat stiffly on his chair taking in the student’s sudden reaction. After a few seconds he said: “I know James, he’s not going to come back and you’re never going to stop missing him, neither is your mother. Still, you have to try to move on. He-H- Michael wouldn’t want his son to go down the path that you-“ But James did not allow the old man to finish. Instead he rushed out of the office, slamming the door and muttering something that sounded a lot like “I don’t need this.”

A mixture of feelings rushed through the Principal’s head. First he felt outrage. Followed by exasperation. Afterwards came frustration joined by disappointment. Finally he felt sadness. I don’t know what else to say to you Jay. I have no idea of what else to say…

James allowed the rage inside of him to continue stirring itself. So what if his grades were going down? So what if he had gotten into at least ten fights the past month? What did Collins care? He entered his home through the back door and went up the stairs. From the moment he step foot on the hallway he could hear his mother’s sobs at the last room. He wondered when she’d gotten home from work. Had she even left the house?

James took a deep breath and walked towards his own room, placed just two doors away from his mother’s. He moved his hand to turn the handle but retrieved and walked towards the room next to his, the bathroom. After locking the door, he looked at his face in the mirror. A smear of dried blood ran down his nose. The skin around his right eye was red; it would turn purple in the morning. He took a towel and rinsed off the blood. Once he had cleansed his face, he took a final good look at himself. Who was this person in front of him? Never so much rage had invaded him.

He recalled Old Collins’ words. “…you’re never going to stop missing him... Still, you have to try to move on.” He had heard the same advice over and over again from different people. First from his friends, then from his family, then his from teachers and now from the Principal. But why was it that only now the idea seemed to cast itself inside his mind. Had he had enough? Was he tired of all the fighting? Surely he was tired of it, but his weariness wasn’t the reason behind his sudden realization. He had finally admitted the truth: he misses his father and there’s nothing he can do about it.

He went out and made his way towards his mother’s room. There, she sat on her bed, holding a picture and crying. Only when he sat next to her did she look up.
She noticed the marks on his face. “Don’t tell me you were fighting again.”

“I’m sorry, mom.” James apologized. It took a moment for her to understand the meaning behind his words. Finally she let her face sink into his shoulder, threw her arms around him and continued to weep. James wrapped his arms around his mother’s body and placed his chin over her head. A moment later he found himself doing something he had not done since his father’s death: he was crying. -THE END-

This is just something that I wanted to share with you all. Hopefully you all will enjoy my last update in this blog for the time being. SPM is just 24 hours away!! I wish all the spm candidates all the best and my friends, good luck to you all!! JYJY all!! May God bless us~~