1. Past and Present
7 years ago
I, Noah Liconsin was sitting on my bed, reading my book when my father walked into my house. I almost ran down the stairs when I heard my father's aggravated, agitated voice scream at me.
"NOAH! I TOLD YOU TO BE DOWN HERE BY THE TIME I COME HOME FROM WORK!" He screamed and I quickly scrambled to my father, who stood in front of me now. My father drew back his hand and punched me in the eye. I winced, which earned a slap on my face. Tears formed in the corners of my 9 year olds eyes as my mother walked in.
"Mary, uh, I didn't know you would be here?" My mom's eyes filled with tears as her voice cracked.
"Y-you've been the one giving Noah black eyes?" My mom cried, and her husband, my dad Jake, tried to hug her. She pushed him away.
"No. I thought it was a bully who has been doing this to poor Noah, but it was his own father. Go upstairs Noah and pack, we're leaving." I speeded upstairs and pulled out my suitcase. I threw in some clothes, not all in case we came back and stayed, but I sat, bawling my eyes out on the floor. My father burst through the door, and I ran across the room, to my bed, screaming. My father's devilish look in his eyes was enough for me to know he was up to no good. My father started bolting to me and rammed me into a wall. I kicked and screamed as my father's hands slipped up to me, his son's neck. My hands tried to scratch my father's, but it was no use. Mary, my mom burst into the room and screamed, as my dad let me go. I lay on his bed, gasping for air, getting barely any. My mom grabbed me in her arms, and carried our suitcases on her shoulder. She ran far away with me. We both went over to a town called Strauch. It was a cozy place, until the mass murdering case. The murder was a much beloved celebrity, a pop artist Laya Houiieé. 7 victims were killed, 1 severely injured. That 1 person was my mother. I had to take care of her for 1 year until my mom went mental and killed herself, by slitting her own throat. It didn't sit well with me and I joined multiple gangs, becoming the leader of the most dangerous gang around, the skull crushers.
Present time (7 years later)
I walked into my home, also known as the Skull Crushers hang out spot, since I had nowhere else to go since my mother, no. I did not want to think about her. Just her name brought tears to my eyes. I wiped them away, making sure none of the SC noticed him. I walked into the pool table room, and all eyes stared at me, and all voices went silent. I climbed up onto the pool table so all the SC could see him. SC stood for Skull Crushers, as it stayed on the building we were standing in now. I sighed and yelled for all my gang bangers to hear me.
"Thank you all for coming to this mandatory meeting. Two things I need to discuss. First, we got another letter in the mail, saying that the same gang who has been sending us letters saying they have Dagger, a fellow Skull Crusher as a hostage. We need to figure out who they are and what they want from us. This leads onto the second big news, to find some people who can help me figure out who the group is, I need to enroll in school. I'm the youngest here at 16, and the only one that can still go to school. I will be going to Strauch High, starting tomorrow. I trust you guys enough to handle a couple hours a day each week without me. Any objections may see themselves to the torture room." I climb off the pool table and quickly walk off to the spare closet I have been using for my bedroom. I layed down on the floor covered in styrofoam. I made it a bed here as soon as my mom, this time I couldn't stop the tears that silently rolled down my checks, soaking them. I buried his head in the only pillow I brought from home and cried into it, now sobbing loudly. The scent of my mother on the pillow made me miss her more than anything. I cried, which I hadn't done in years. I cried. I remembered how my mother would calm me when I was upset. She would tell me to think of school. I loved school so much when my mother was around. I hadn't been to school since she died. I'm school, I saw all my friends, and told them about my dad, and they would give me hugs, and comfort him. Finally, in 7 years, I would be returning home to see my old friends, who probably wouldn't even recognize me. The thought of seeing people, real, nice people calmed me down, and gradually I fell asleep on my mother's silk pillow. When I woke up, my face was all dry of tears, but my eyes were all red and puffy. I quickly splashed water on them and got dressed into the normal. My leather jeans, black army boots, white tank top and the Skull Crushers leather jacket over it. Our outfits looked like the outfits from Riverdale, a show that played on Netflix. Our jackets have the same style, only on the back theirs had their logo, and ours had our logo, a skull with three cracks in his head, but the Skull was grinning. I head into the pool table room to see everyone passed out cold. I elbow Snake and Crack to guard outside today, and they follow me out. Before going outside, I catch a glimpse of the clock, 6:44am and hurried onto his motorcycle, and place on his helmet, not wanting to miss the 7:00am bell. Soon as I turned onto the road of Strauch High, I heard squeals and screams about me. I guess that's what I get having no other clothes except these. I ride into the school parking lot, still getting scared and awed faces staring. I park my baby next to an old minivan and hop off of it, attaching my helmet to one of the handles, as I grab my leather backpack and put it on one shoulder. As soon as I walk into the driveway, I feel every pair of eyes on me. I'm not even exadirating. I walked all the way into the school with no gasps, but when I walked inside the school exploded with gasps.
"Woow. Who is that!?"
"What is a Skull Crusher doing at our school!
"Wait, no way, a Skull Crusher! He will like, kill everyone here!!!" I particularly hated that comment, so I walked up to the boy who said that. He was wearing a casual sweater vest and he had red hair with glasses and freckles. He wore cache pants, which made him look like an old grandpa. The dude shivered, looking like he was about to have a panic attack. I walk up to him.
"What did you say about me?" I calmly ask. The dude gulped so hard you could hear it from across the hall. I don't know why he seems so scared.
"Dude. Why are you so scared? Is it my clothes? My face? I can look less grumpy." The dude backed up against the locker.
"Y-your an Skull Crusher." His voice was shaking so much. I backed up away from his to the center of the crowd that formed around me and the redhead. I took off my jacket.
"Um… better?" I ask, confused now. Were people seriously scared of us? Why? Unless my people hurt someone… a kid interpreted my thoughts.
"It still doesn't change the fact that you helped Laya Houiieé kill 7 people and severely injure 1 person." That stabbed right in my heart. That hurt. That stung. Who knew strangers are so mean. Anger flashed in my eyes as I turned to the person who said that, and his skin went pale as a ghost.
"When did that rumor go around? Hm? When my only person in my life, my mom, was the one who severely injured. You know what? Why not add in the fact that I was standing in the kitchen making spaghetti for dinner and my mom grabbed a knife as fast as she could and cut her throat wide open. When I was 9. And where was my dad who had tried to strangle me to death when I was nine too? Who else did I have to call? My old friends? They for sure loved me, so I looked for them but couldn't find them, so I found an open shed in the middle of the woods, the SC hangout spot, and have been living with them in their spare closet ever since, leveling myself up till a year ago I became leader. And yet? What? Because I had a terrible past, and a not so much better life now, you all can treat me like garbage? Just because I am apart of a gang who definitely does NOT murder, you think you can call me a bad person! You don't even know me! Only four people out of this school know me! The real me. So because I don't look like you, haven't gone to school in 7 years, am leader of the SC, doesn't mean I'm a bad person. Maybe, have you thought that 90% of the Skull Crushers joined the SC just to learn how to protect their family and kids. So screw off if you think that I am, or any one of the SC are bad people just by judging the group image. Screw the fuck off." I pushed my way through the crowd and walked to my homeroom class.