No, he did not yet start throwing stuff around. That was just my heart hitting the floor. Adrenaline spiked in my blood as I uneasily got down from the bed. My past self eyed the window, something I don't remember from the day. RUN, I scream inside my head, JUST JUMP. But no, the past goes as it had gone. I walked very slowly, my pounding heart scoring the background for me.

"Aaah shit!", I cursed. I picked up my bleeding foot, now all cut up from stepping on the jagged glass from earlier. I was a moron to believe that he would clean up after himself. I wobbled towards the living room, where my dad stood with the receiver in his hand, livid. The thousand thoughts that raced my mind was at once silenced by the overwhelming feeling of dread.

"Dad?", I asked in the lowest octave I could muster, "What's the matter?"

The receiver hit me on my funny bone as I shield my face from on the oncoming attack. It cleared what the matter was.

"WHAT'S THE MATTER?", he bellowed, "YOU SCREWED UP THAT'S THE MATTER. YOU MESSED UP SOMEONE'S FACE AND THEY SUSPENDED YOU, THAT'S THE MATTER. HOW DARE YOU ASK ME WHAT'S THE MATTER?"

His hand descended like a whip on my face. The strong strokes rained on my stinging arm as I defend myself from harm. Bothered by my lack of respect, or so which he perceived, he landed a right hook straight to my stomach.

I collapsed on the floor, in pain. He then proceeded to kick me multiple times, all the while yelling expletives. Now, I am glad that he remembered to remove his shoes before he had the idea of beating me up. Being at the end of one such attack, I can attest it is much more painful.

The assault stopped. I peered open my eyes to look at what he was doing. Mentally I groaned as he just took a trip to the fridge to get his latest fix of alcohol before he came back to go to town on me. The alcohol makes it better and worse. The part where he loses control over his hits and misses, I am all for it. But it sucks that it also makes him angry.

I braced myself for impact. He took a swig out of his poison of choice and rambled on, "YOU LITTLE SHIT. WHY CAN'T YOU JUST KEEP YOUR HEAD DOWN AND FINISH YOUR SCHOOLING? DO YOU THINK YOU CAN GET A JOB WITH WHAT YOU GET THAT YOU CALL GRADES AND NOW YOU ARE PERMANENTLY KICKED OFF THE FOOTBALL TEAM? HOW ARE YOU GONNA GO TO COLLEGE? THIS IS YOUR SEVENTH SUSPENSION. THE ONLY REASON YOU GOT OFF WITH JUST A SUSPENSION IS BECAUSE I AM CHUMMY WITH THE PRINCIPAL. NOW EVEN HE SEEMS UNWILLING TO ASSOCIATE WITH ME ALL BECAUSE OF YOU. HOW ARE YOU GOING TO TAKE CARE OF THAT? YOU PUNCHED A SQUIRT IN THE FACE. FINE. HOW DID YOU LET HIM GIVE IN A COMPLAINT? WHAT DID I SAY? CLEAN UP AFTER YOURSELF. HOW ARE YOU GOING TO DO THAT? GET IT ALL CLEANED UP! FINISH EVERY FIGHT!"

I could barely hear him with the ringing in my ears from all the beating. While he kept roaring all the insults, I could only register it as droning. After a while, the droning and the beating stopped.

Thud. Again. But this time it is not my heart. As I struggled to my feet, I laid my eyes on a hulking mound of flesh. Backing away, I squinted as I registered the mound as my father, passed out. Internally I thanked alcohol for finally doing its job. But I wince. My hand. Well. Shit. I looked in the mirror to assess the damage. A few scrapes and a few cuts. A lot of red patches from the beating. Cut up leg. I found the first aid kit and tended to my self as well as I could. Even with the pain, I smiled. Not out of service.

Finish the fight. I guess we have to.

"JESUS!", Bob screeched as I shushed him. "What the hell happened to you?"

The little Bill didn't feel like this, but I am glad I had someone who cared if something happened. It is hard to find someone like that when you are homeless. But Bob died. Car accident. he drove too fast, too hard for his own good and he paid for it with his life. For now, I am glad I can see him again. For Bob was the only true friend I had.

"I am fine", I growled, wincing with pain at his touch. Bob withdrew, his eyes still shining with concern. "Let's get those little squeakers and teach them never to cross us. They have to pay for this."

"You already got suspended for the fifth time for taking it too far. Just chill out for now. It is not like they are going anywhere. You still got them. They still squirm at your presence. Let's just end it there", he sermonized pausing as he felt the glare from my eyes.

"They need to learn their place. They should know what happens when they snitch. What will happen if they think they are better than me? Those little bugs should be squashed like the bugs they are!", I utter menacingly.

Bob sighed. "At least wait till all these injuries heal. How did all of these happen to you? Did you get into an accident? Was anyone with you? Did you hit someone? Come on, give me something. Let's go to the hospital. Then, afterward, let's kick some nerd ass", he asked pleadingly.

I know it is the rational answer and probably the best one. But the dumber me does not.

"This is nothing big. Forget about it. I am going to kill those little goody two shoes today if that is what it takes to break them. Are you in or are you not?", I asked threateningly.

"Okay! Okay! Just chill out for a second. Let's do this. How do you what this done? Well or medium rare?", he joked. I didn't laugh.

"Okay", he sighed, "How are we going to do this? Shall I call all of our gang and work this out or what?"

"Do you think I need backup", I sneered, "I need to call those pipsqueaks out so that I take care of it. Do. You. Get. Me?"

"Today, they stay up in the school grounds to look at the stars, like the nerds they are. We will find them there", Bob replied, giving up on trying to persuade me out. I wish he did a better job of it. We could have avoided all the shit we landed in.

"Good. Let's get those nerds", I announce as I cycle away.

"Wait for me", Bob shouted, struggling to get to his.