Her stern voice cut through the air. “Scram.” It was Angela, tall and angelic—with dark, shoulder-length hair and piercing brown eyes. She stood a few feet away from them, her arms crossed, her intense gaze fixated on them.
The boys shifted uncomfortably away from me, growing quiet all of sudden. I could see the fear in their blank faces. “What’s up, Angela?” one asked like a mouse.
She came closer, making herself known as someone who was not to be trifled with. “You’ll be up on the roof—when I throw you up there.” She gave him a devious smile. “Would you like that?”
The bully muttered something in another language while shaking his head. “No, that’s cool. We’re all good here. Just don’t tell the principal, please.” He signaled for his friends to follow him away from me.
“Why are we leaving? She’s just a girl,” one whispered. “She’s not just a girl; she’ll kick my ass. What am I gonna do? Kick it back? Don’t be a toilet shithead,” the head bully hissed back.
She walked over and sat down next to me without missing a beat. I finally let my guard down, my face red from having a pretty girl stand up for me. I didn’t feel like I deserved that. I should’ve been able to stand up for myself, but I always appreciated Angela for doing that.
Still, I should’ve been a man, or what was considered being a man. It was a personal thing—nothing to do with anyone else or how society viewed the relationship between men and women. I needed to have enough self-respect to defend my honor. Angela opened my mind to this change I needed to instill in myself.
I opened my mouth, almost afraid to speak—the words stuck in my throat. “Hey…thank you. Thank you for doing that; that was really nice of you.”
She turned to me and playfully punched my arm. “I got you. I don’t like seeing people bullying others.” She flipped her gorgeous hair, and a few strands hit my face, but I didn’t care. I even kind of liked it. “It’s freaking lame, and those guys are always dogging you. I thought it was high time someone did something.”
I nodded in appreciation; it was true. They bullied and teased me for nearly my entire high school life. I was an easy target for them until Angela came along.
“Why do they bother you so much anyway? What’s up with them?” she asked.
“There’s…stupid rumors; I’m sure you’ve heard about them,” I muttered, brushing snow off my shoulder.
She gave me a curious look. “I’m sorry, what rumors?”
I hesitated. “About me and my family.”
I knew that she knew what I was talking about, but she didn’t want to pry. Nearly everyone in the school knew what had happened; there was no way she didn’t know.
We had spoken a few times in class, just casual conversations, nothing about our personal lives. That’s how she knew me and how shy I was. I was sure that she felt immense pity for me. I could tell by the way she looked at me when she passed me in the hall—with soft, downcast eyes and a kind smile.
Angela’s eyes patiently searched mine. “Where are you from, anyway? I don’t think I’ve ever asked that. Were you born here?” she was kind enough to change the subject.
I gulped and squirmed next to her; my body didn’t know how to react to a pretty girl in close proximity. “No I wasn’t. I was placed in an orphanage here and I was adopted. Before that…I bounced around a lot in Central America.” She continued to look at me, interested in what I was saying, silently encouraging me to tell my story, even though she probably already knew it. I always loved that about her. “Long story short, my parents were taken by criminals when I was younger. I never saw them again.”
Her face softened. “Oh no, Lenny.” She affectionately grabbed my arm. “I’m so sorry.”
I forced a dry laugh. “Yeah, I’m sure you don’t want to hear anymore.”
She squeezed my arm and nodded. “You can tell me if you want to. I’m listening to you.”
I couldn’t believe the treatment I was receiving from her. Sure, we’d spoken before, but never like this. I wondered what compelled her to do so. Maybe it dawned on her that I desperately needed a friend, someone who’d listen to me, and maybe she needed that, too.
I cleared my throat and continued. “Before my parents were taken, they managed to send us to the States to live with a relative, my father’s distant cousin. Things didn’t work out with her, so we got dumped in this place called Mercy’s Light. It was run by this witch, Mildred. She wanted everything silent—no music, no games. Just quiet—always quiet. My brother Lincoln and I…we hated it, and her.”
Angela tilted her head. “You had a brother?”
I never talked about him, but she knew that I did. I concluded that she wanted to act like she knew nothing about me because she didn’t want to assume anything about my life; there had been a lot of nasty rumors, and many of them were simply not true.
“Yeah, his name was Lincoln. He didn’t last long there. Neither of us did. We then got adopted by an older couple named Peter and Maria Frost. They weren’t as bad as Mildred, but they didn’t care much about us either. They did the bare minimum—kept us inside most of the time, like they were allergic to kids. It was horrible, but at least we had a place to live.”
I remembered pausing my life’s story there, my throat tightening before I added the last part to it—the tragedy. I didn’t know if she wanted to hear about that.
“What happened next…it’s really terrible. I don’t have to tell you. It’s just…sad. It’s really sad,” I said quietly.
She placed her hand gently on my lap. “You can tell me if you want to. I’m here for you.” I glanced at her, and her face was serious. I could tell she was telling the truth, and I felt strangely comforted by her, like I could tell her anything in the whole world and she wouldn’t judge me for it.
“Eventually…Colton Kilhouser happened. The man they called the Xmas Day Butcher.”
