For the Love of Peter Jones

by Adaeze Okoli

  The cold felt like it was cutting through my skin, going straight to my bones. While I was walking on my way to school I noticed I had an urge. I wanted a drink… no scratch that I needed a drink. I’ve never felt like that before, but I guess that’s what happens when you’ve been drinking every day for a week. This craving was strong, I thought I was losing my mind. I see why alcoholics become addicted now. Alcohol is a form of escaping your own thoughts. It helps you forget everything until it wears off. I’ll definitely need some after school. After forty minutes of walking I reached a bus stop, that’s route would get me close to Beverly Hills. And from there I can catch another bus that would put me across the street from my school.

  Here I am, at school, and already there were a lot of people here. I turned on my phone to check the time. 7:30 am is what my phone said. I still had a whole thirty minutes to wait until school started.

  Stares, everyone was looking at me and not in a good way. Their stares showed disgust and disapproval. Some kids made nasty remarks under their breath. I tried to ignore them, sat at a table, and put my head down. I felt someone hit the back of my head. Looking up I noticed it was Josh and a crowd was already formed.

  Did these people have nothing better to do? I bet it brings them a twisted sense of joy to watch me get picked on.

  “I’ve been waiting for you to come back, Peter. I knew you were poor before but, my God, look at you.”

  I ignored what Josh said, stood up and tried to walk away. A few people who hang with him blocked my way. Gasps and quite a few laughs erupted. I couldn’t figure out what was so shocking and funny.

  “Looks like you haven’t eaten in a while and from what I can see you now do drugs. Crackhead Peter. You know you sort of smell like piss. Do you piss yourself at night?”

  Everyone started to giggle and Josh spoke again.

  “Did you forget to use your makeup to cover up the evidence on your arm faggot?”

  Someone from the crowd said, “Fight him already he doesn’t even belong on our campus.”

  Trying to push through the crowd was much harder than it has ever been before. I felt much weaker than before. Josh grabbed me by the throat and slammed me down on the ground. I gasped for air and struggled to get up, my body was too tired and weak. Josh was kicking me over and over again I couldn’t catch a break, I blacked out. The last thing I remember were teens recording the entire incident . Before blacking out, I saw someone tall with a big body slam Josh.

  When I gained consciousness, everyone was gone. The only person who was with me was Trinity. She was picking up some stuff but I couldn’t tell what it was. I was still on the ground lying there unable to move. As she came closer I noticed it was pants she was holding. I looked down my shirt was ripped and dirty. I was trying to make sense of what had happened and why my pants had come off. Trinity told me while Josh was fighting me a few people thought it would be funny to take my pants off. Making fun of how skinny I had become. Trinity looked down in shame.

  I was embarrassed; no I was more than embarrassed I felt violated and humiliated. She told me that Nelson White, jock from the varsity team broke up the fight. My face scrunched up not because I didn’t know who Nelson was, but because I was hurt. No matter how hard I try and think about it I can’t figure out why people make me their target. Trinity kept talking, she thought I scrunched up my face because I didn’t know who he was.

  “You know Nelson White? The tall black guy, who made it on the varsity team his freshman year. No one messes with him because he’s the big man on campus and respected. Kids were super shocked to see him break up the fight. He was sick of Josh beating on you and no one trying to intervene. He body slammed Josh onto the ground and told him, not to mess with you anymore, or he would have problems with him. After the bell rung, he tried walking over to you to see if you were okay. I told him thanks for everything, and that I could handle it from there, and then he walked away and headed to class.”

  Trinity stopped talking when she noticed I wasn’t saying anything.

  “Go,” is all I could say to her. My voice sounded low and deep, the tone even frightened me.

  She looked at me completely confused.

  “Go and leave me alone!” I screamed at her.

  The glow Trinity’s face usually holds, faded. She looked so hurt that it could break your heart. You could tell she was trying to hold back tears. Grabbing her things she turned and walked away. Tears were running down my face.

  “Why!”

  That’s all I could scream. Why have I lost the only person who cared about me? Why did I lose my house, and why did I blow all good chances of having my dream girl? Why does everyone in this world hate me? Why does almost every single freaking person in this school choose me as a target? Why can’t I defend myself in my own fights?

  The bell had rung, and I decided to get up off the ground. I had been lying down on the ground during this whole period.

  “Walk faster you skeleton.”

  That’s what one person said, and one chick started laughing when I passed her. I kept walking to my class and ended up running into Nelson White.

  “Hey man I saw what they were doing to you, and that’s not cool at all. I can’t stand people who pick on others. I used to get picked on a lot in middle school for being short and skinny.”

  Nelson took a break and chuckled.

  “And look at me now, I’m the tallest guy on campus who made it on varsity. Keep your head up man, you’ll make it through I promise.”

  I nodded my head and turned away. No other guy my age has ever said kinder words to me than him. No one at this school that’s a male has even tried to talk to me, so for that, I am grateful.

  When I reached my English class everyone fell silent. Everyone was laughing and on their phone one minute. Then the next everyone became super quiet when I entered the room. My eye bounced off of different people waiting for someone to tell me what was going on. No one said a word so I walked to my desk. Mrs. Sung my English teacher, looked up from her computer. She told us to write an essay on a Shakespeare play she assigned us to read over the weekend. Mrs. Sung was a petite thin Asian lady. Her eyes were a deep brown and her skin was a pale creamy color. She wears her hair up in a neat bun with a side bang. The only makeup she wears is her dark red lipstick. You could see that when she was in high school a ton of boys were after her.

  I was trying to hurry and read the Shakespeare play I missed. I was behind all my class work. I needed to at least write four essays. I was going to attempt to finish one essay before class is out. Before I got to finish reading the end of the play, my phone buzzed. I thought I had turned it back off to save battery but clearly, I forgot. The kids in the room started to snicker. It was a video I was tagged in on Facebook. I decided to click the play button and watch it. Horrified, ashamed, and anger are the emotions that the video gave me.

  The video was of me, Josh beating me up and the other people pulling my jeans down to make fun of how thin my legs. You could see Nelson White pushing through the crowd like he was on the field for the game. All while this was happening you could see me start to black out. Nelson body slammed Josh and said exactly what Trinity had told me he said.

  He also said, “I am sick of seeing you pick on this guy, what is the point? You are at school to learn and make friends, not pick on people you don’t think belong.” It’s cool what Nelson did, but truth be told, that’s not what the kids were paying attention to in this room. They were laughing at me, as always. This stupid video had over one hundred likes.

  I could feel the whole classroom looking at me. I took out my journal and started writing fast. This is it I can’t take this anymore. I’m going through with what the voices have been telling me to do for a while. I’m going to end one of the most beautiful gifts anyone could be given, life. There is no purpose for me to go on. I can’t get through a school day without being beat on. Trinity won’t want to speak to me because of how I yelled at her. No one will notic
e that I’m gone. I love this notebook that X gave me but it’s not enough to keep me alive. I mean I don’t even have food to feed myself.

  My life is meaningless I don’t deserve to have my story heard by anyone. Who would listen in the first place? I paused from writing and looked up, my teacher Mrs. Sung was looking at me. She looked concerned, but I didn’t care. I went back to my writing. I’m going to end my life the simplest way I can. As soon as this bell rings I’m going to leave my school campus and never come back. I’ll go where I usually get my drugs and pills.

  The only difference is I’m going to take more of everything. I’m going to take enough of each to kill me. I’m sorry mom I couldn’t hang on much longer, but at least I’ll be reunited with you again. Trinity, I’m sorry I yelled at you, I hope you know how much I mean this. Trinity, you’ve been nothing but kind to me. I wish I had the guts to ask you to be mine. Let’s be honest though, the losers never get the beautiful girl with the great personality. Not in the real world at least. Girls like you get guys like Nelson White, and that’s what you deserve, someone strong. That’s all I’m going to write, I guess I’ll be stopping at age sixteen this is the end of my story.

  The bell rang and I got up.

  “Did you like the video, Peter?” A random person in my class asked me.

  All the people in this room laughed. I picked up my backpack and forgot to grab my journal. Mrs. Sung was calling my name, but I never turned around. Whatever she was calling my name for I didn’t care to hear it.

  When death seems more inviting than life there’s a problem. Do you know how beat down and broken a person must be to want to kill themselves? Shortly after that thought crossed my mind, I thought of X. The hopelessness that I felt, I’m sure matched his at the time he took his life. He had no one to run to, I was his last hope, and I let him down. His world was always a living nightmare. The last bit of light he had walked out his front door, and didn’t even care to look back at him. Now it’s me who has no one to run to. I’m all alone in this hell, like X was.

  People try to say that when someone commits suicide that makes them a coward. I don’t agree with that statement whatsoever. You know who are the real cowards? People who have made other people feel so bad that they think suicide is the only answer. No one on this earth was born suicidal. Someone or something is always the reason behind whatever emotion someone is feeling.

  Shoplifting is another nasty habit I had picked up as of today, but that’s okay because within a few hours I’ll be gone. If I’ve only shoplifted once can I exactly call it a habit? I needed to shoplift at least two bottles of pills so I can do what needs to be done. The palms of my hands were sweating so bad that I had to keep wiping them on my pants leg so they would stay somewhat dry. I was fearful and nervous, I’d never stolen anything before. Does it matter though? What I would be doing would be considered a good thing. Yes, I have gone as far as saying that me committing suicide would be a good thing. The world would be better, less idiotic, and enjoyable without me.

  Their eyes were watching me, but I don’t blame them. How I was dressed didn’t exactly send people a good message. I looked like a homeless beggar. I wandered up and down the aisles until I found the medication section. Picking up different medication bottles I pretended to be reading what they said. Once the sales clerk stopped looking at me I stuffed two painkillers in my backpack. Each bottle had fifty pills. I waited for a customer to get finished with being rung up. Why? Because I would walk out the same time they did and the alarm would go off. The good news is that they would check the customer because they’re the one with a grocery bag. They would think that I’m a person who didn’t find what I was looking for. Sure enough, everything worked out how I planned, and I got away scot-free.

  They’re everywhere, the people who have the drugs that is. I’m so young that the man gives me the drugs for free. The reason for this is because I’m sixteen and already dealing with the hardcore drugs. He figures my life must be a difficult one to start this early. He tells me most kids my age are only into marijuana. Not long ago I would have been horrified at his way of thinking. Giving hardcore drugs to kids for free because you figure their life is hell enough? But the way my mind works now, I’m thankful for the way he thinks.

  I was headed to the man who’s been supplying the drugs for me for the past week or so. His name remains a mystery to the world. He told me he’s nameless, people in the world treat him less than human. I remember him telling me that people look at him and turn the other way saying hurtful words. His words have stayed in my head for quite some time. When you think about it, it’s exactly how people treat others who they think are unimportant.

  “People seem to forget that I have two arms, two legs, a nose, eyes, mouth, and a beating heart. They forget that I’m like them, human. Anything that looks weird, or outside the norm is seen as a threat. Most see that I’m out on the streets and instead of offering help they do anything and everything to tear me down. Not once has anyone asked me what my name is. I’m only that one guy who people thinks they should stay clear of. They all think I look dangerous, or that I only want to beg for money. I’m not even homeless, they assume. No one treats me like I exist, so I decided why not get rid of my name too. I haven’t thought of my name in so long that sometimes I forget it myself.” Those were the nameless man’s words.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  His motel room was dark, but that was nothing unusual. The nameless man as of recently has been able to afford places to stay here and there. Business was well for him.

  “Hey buddy, what can I do for you this time?”

  The man asked me while sitting down on the dingy motel couch. The couch reeked of pee. “I want six needles of the strongest stuff you’ve got. If that doesn’t trouble you too much.”

  He got up off the couch and stood in one place. I could tell he was racking his brain for something to say, his facial expression said it all.

  “I have heroin, krokodil, and a mixture of heroin with fentanyl.”

  Nameless observed me.

  “Well um, do you mind telling me why you want so much? That’s enough needles filled with drugs to kill someone. I mean you know I care about you kid. You’re different. I can see you got a bright future ahead of you. You’re not like the rest of us. You don’t fit in, and I mean that in a good way.”

  I wasn’t used to any man showing this much emotion. The nameless man was showing more interest in my life than my dad ever did, I’ve only known this man for a little over a week. This has to be his drug talk kicking in, but nameless made it clear he doesn’t like using his own products. He says using his own drugs lessens his chance of profit. When nameless showed concern it made me overwhelmed.

  I wanted to confess and tell him what I was up to, but I needed to stick to my plan.

  “No worries at all, I was going to take two, share some with this one guy who I met, and then save the rest for later. I’m only experimenting. Actually, I may not even experiment. I may try and sell it myself to get extra cash in my pockets.”

  That was one of the biggest lies I had ever told, and thank gosh it would be the last. What I said was enough to convince him to hand me over the shots. I watched him study me before he spoke again.

  “Come take a walk with me kid, I have a good twenty dollars to spare. We can go to McDonald’s if you would like. I know you haven’t eaten in awhile.”

  I looked up at him; my eyes were wide, wide enough for him to see my hunger.

  He chuckled, “I’ll take that as a yes. Let’s head out.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  We were sitting down at a booth inside McDonald’s. I had ordered a sandwich off the dollar menu along with medium fries and a soda. He got the same thing or something like it at least. For a while, we ate our food in silence. It wasn’t awkward; I was actually pretty pleased we weren’t talking. Eating in silence gave me time to enjoy my food in peace. You never enjoy something like food until you’ve been without it f
or a while.

  As we were finishing up our food he began to speak.

  “Kid, I want to share something with you. You remind me a lot of my son, not look wise, but smart wise. He hasn’t spoken to me in about ten years, and to be honest with you I don’t blame him at all. I never talked to him when he was younger all he saw me do is fight with his mother, and have countless affairs.”

  I almost stopped chewing my food, this man was always nice to me, but he never talked to me on a personal level. I mean why would he? He was only supplying my drugs.

  I listened to him attentively, not wanting to miss any detail.

  “As soon as my son got the chance he moved out. He went to college, and graduated early. Now at age thirty-five, he is one of the most in-demand high paid surgeons. There are articles upon articles written about him.”

  He took a pause before continuing. I was all ears; I was waiting for him to finish what he had to say.

  “Why I’m telling you this is because I see the same shine in your eyes that he had. It was the brightest shine in the world, no matter what was going on. His eyes had the power to make you feel better. You could see hope and a future in his eyes, and that Peter is what I see in you. I’m talking to you so much because these are the things I wish I would have said to my son. Saying these words I’ve been holding inside is therapeutic for me. I know we’re not close, but you remind me so much of him. Thank you for listening.”

  Those words he said to me made me want to know his name even more. Anyone who didn’t see that this was a human being was blind. He’s made mistakes and has emotions like everyone else.

  “Sir, can I ask what your name is again? You deserve to be called by your name.” With caution he put his soda down. His lip twitched, but then turned into a smile.

  “Kent. Kent Marker, that’s my name.” He said his name as if he was unsure of it.

  I liked his name. To me, it fit his personality somehow.