The Center: Chimera
Chapter 1

What do you say when you're at the end? Do you apologize for things you wish were different? Do you smile knowing it’s finally over? I don't know what you would do, but I was calm inside and out. Surprising, once you get to know me. When you find out what really goes on in my head, regardless of what I show the rest of the world. I guess I should start at the beginning right? My life changed on a Wednesday. Funny how you remember the day when your whole life becomes something you never thought was possible.
---
"Matt! Wake up Matt. Time to get ready for school." my father shouts from the kitchen.
"You can't be late again son."

I groan and try to turn over to catch a few more minutes of sleep. I know my dad is right, but why bother? What's the point in going to school? Just another day another dollar or so my dad keeps telling me. He has this idea that every new day is a day to enjoy life. Too bad it doesn't feel that way to me. Sighing I finally toss the covers off and crawl out of bed.

"Doesn't he understand I hate school? It's so boring! Let me sleep." a voice whispers.

I look around the room startled at hearing another voice.  
"Is anyone there?" The sound of my father in the kitchen is the only response. Weird, nobody should be in my room this early. I don't see anyone. Shaking my head thinking I must be imagining things. Grabbing some clothes I walk towards the bathroom. Just as I arrived, my older brother Jason gets out of the bathroom.

"Hey squirt." He says rustling my hair.
Geez, when will he stop doing that?

"The shower’s all yours.” I just give him a grunt as a reply. I'm not what you'd call a "morning person". He laughs and walks downstairs. You wouldn't think we were brothers. Him with short sandy blonde hair, typical Californian surfer boy tan, standing six foot four, with enough muscle and tone to make all the girls follow him around. Then there's me, barely five feet with thin arms and legs, long auburn hair that reaches my shoulder blades and no facial hair to speak of. Everyone tells me not to worry. That I just haven't had my growth spurt yet, but I don't believe them. At 16 both my older brothers were pushing six feet and been shaving for nearly two years. If that weren't bad enough, people seem to always mistake me for a girl. It probably wouldn't happen as often if I cut my hair, but I just won't do it. What can I say, I like my hair long. I put it up to keep it from getting wet, since I never seem to have enough time to dry it.
---
Walking into the bustle of the kitchen I see both Jason and Don devouring their breakfast. I swear if you put your hand anywhere near their plates you'd come back without a finger or two at least, if not missing your whole hand.

"Sleep well, son?" my dad inquires as he finishes up the last of his coffee.

"As normal I guess. Only woke up about a half dozen times." I mutter back. My sleeping habits have always been a concern to him. We've tried everything to help me sleep but for whatever reason I can't stay asleep for more than an hour any given night. It seems to be getting worse in the last month. I don't know what's changed but I keep having these weird dreams. Always in a different location and always the same two people. Their names are Redmond and Vickie. They both seem to know all about me and are always trying to protect me from whatever shows up in my dreams, but mostly they protect me from hurting myself. My dreams usually involve some form of suicide or other method of hurting myself, but those two always show up and stop me or do something to protect me. I can tell he's worried about me, but I've just accepted that it's a part of me. Why complain about something that can't be changed. Am I right?

"Alright guys I'm off. Jay, please make sure Matt get's to school on time today. I don't want to get another call from the office." He replies grabbing his keys and rushes out the door.

Jason only nods, not wanting to stop eating even to give a verbal response. Swallowing the last mouthful he grabs his bag and we all head to school.
---
We arrive with barely enough time to find a parking spot and walk to class. You'd think with nearly 2000 students the school would spring for some more parking. Guess budget cutbacks are getting worse. As we each split to go to our first period classes, Jason holds me back for a second.

"Hey squirt. Hold on a sec. Don't let them get to you okay? If someone is bothering you just come and get me. Don't try to take them on by yourself again. I mean what's a big brother for, if not to protect his little brother."

He's never forgiven himself for accidentally hitting me in the head with a baseball bat. To be honest, I think the fault was more with me for standing too close, but when a concussion, fractured skull, 16 stitches and a lot of blood are concerned, there's little I can do to persuade him.

"Tell him to mind his own business. God can't he take a hint. He's already got someone to help him ." that same whispering voice from this morning says.

"Oh, calm down. You know he's just over protective. It's sweet that he cares so much for Matt." a female voice replies.

I look around trying to find who is talking. Those voices seem very familiar, but it couldn't be. They were just dreams.

"Did you hear that?" I ask.

"Hear what Matt? Hey are feeling good? You look a little pale." Jason says with some concern on his face. Now that he mentions it, my head is hurting more than usual.

"Yea yea, I'm fine. You know you don't need to protect me, Jay. I can take care of myself."

He grabs my arm suddenly pulling up the sleeve on my left arm. You can clearly see the vertical scars covering my wrist.

"Yes, I see exactly how well you've taken care of yourself in the past. All kidding aside, I'm worried about you. Fuck you know Dad and Don are worried about you too. They just don't know how to talk to you or to help. You don't have to deal with everything yourself."

I twist my arm out of his grasp and pull the sleeve back down. I don't know why I bother covering them, just about everyone at school knows what I did last year.

"I don't want to see you back in the emergency room again. How many times has it been this year alone? Seven? I don't wanna lose you when I could have done something to prevent it squirt."

"What do you want me to say Jay? Do you want me to make a promise that I'm not sure I can keep? This is something you just can't protect me from. If it's bullies, then I'll try to get you. Does that make you feel any better?" I reply with a   little more venom in my voice than I intended, but it doesn't faze him.

"Yup, sure does. Later squirt. Don't forget I have football practice after school, so I won't be able to take you home. If you ever wanna just talk. I'm here for you if you'd let me in." He replies as he rushes off to class.  

The good thing about Jason is he doesn't pity me like the rest of my family does. I hate pity. I did what I did, it was my decision. It didn't work, so move on.   

Walking slowly to class I hear the tardy bell ring well before I'm even close to my first period.
---
"Mr. Matthew. Late again, why am I not surprised." Mr. Burke says.

Even though he hasn't finished roll call yet, he never misses an opportunity to torment me.

"What excuse do you have for yourself this time? Alarm clock didn't go off? Car accident?" He sneers, "Washing your hair?"

A few kids snicker at that one. I learned at the beginning of the year that it's best not to rise to his abuse. You tend to get into less trouble that way. When he sees that I'm not going to respond he dismisses me with a wave of his hand.

"Get out. Go to the office for detention. And you better not skip out on it or I WILL hear about it, I promise you that."

And so my day begins. I'm off to the office for punishment for coming in late so many times.
---
The walk to the office isn't long but I was too busy thinking to watch I where I was going, and ran right into Him. The bane of my existence, John, the school bully. I've heard rumors that even some of the football team are scared to mess with him. Only Jason and Don seem to have the courage to stand up to him. Even though our school banned trench coats, John doesn't seem to care. From what I've heard he does what he wants when he wants. Probably why he's out wandering the halls and not in class.

"Well if it isn't little Matty." he sneers.

I have to stifle a laugh when I suddenly get the mental picture of the classic villain from old tv shows. You know the one, right? Black top hat, pencil thin curly mustache always tying some damsel in distress up to a railroad tracks?

"Aren't you gonna say sorry?"

"Sorry John. It won't happen again." I reply with my eyes downcast. No sense in aggravating him if I can help it.

"Not good enough pussy. Give me whatever cash you have on you and I 'might' forget this whole thing." He replies with a sweet smile that could curdle milk.

He starts to approach and I try to fall back not realizing I'm moving into a corner. Just when I thought I'd have to borrow some money for lunch, I hear another voice shout loudly.

"What is going on here!?"

Finally some good luck. Mrs. Swift, my English teacher. One of the few teachers who truly likes me.

"Is he bothering you Matthew? What are you doing out of class the both of you?"

John just stars daggers at her while I try to remain invisible.

Finally John replies, "I ain't doing anything. I was just trying to get to class on time when this fag almost knocks me down."

I know Mrs. Swift doesn't believe it for a moment. There have been just too many incidents that involve John, not to mention the foot in height and nearly 80 pound difference between us.

"You know we don't allow that kind of language here young man. Let's go, right now. You have a date with the principle."

I guess I'm going to have some company on my walk to the office. *sigh* It's not even the end of first period, and I just know this is going to be a long day. The headache I felt earlier starts to come back suddenly, and I start rubbing my head to relieve some of the pain.

Fight him, Matt. Even if he might win. At least it'd give you a little street cred, standing up to the bully like that. a boy's voice whispers.
Without thinking I reply, "Stand up to him? Are you crazy, he'd kick my ass."

"Matthew! Watch your mouth. All right, it looks like the both of you are going to see the principle about appropriate language during school hours." Mrs. Swift looks disappointingly at me.

I try to mutter a reply that I was just answering the other boy, but as I look around I notice it's just the three of us. Okay, now it's getting weird. I'm hearing things. I read once that sleep deprivation can cause hallucinations, but I haven't gotten any less sleep than normal. I continue rubbing my head the entire way to the office. Is it just me or is it getting a little warm today?
---
Mrs. Swift leaves us in the front room to fill out the report. It's still early, all but two chairs are taken. That leaves John and I sitting next to each other.  

When she is out of hearing range, John leaves over close to me and whispers, "I'm going to kick your ass after school today. Meet me around the corner or I'm gonna come looking for you and it won't be pretty pussy. And come alone, don't go crying to your big bro or else."

What a jerk. And such language too. Sounds like someone didn't get hugged much growing up. a girl's voice snickers.

Again without thinking much I lean closer to the girl next to me, "Yea he's a royal ass. Though who would want to hug him? He's a pig."
The girl turns to me with confusion on her face. "I didn't say anything. God don't talk to me." Turning quickly her hair flapping as she turns so her back to me.

"But... I... You just said..."

Now I'm confused. If it wasn't her, who was talking to me just then? Looking back at John, oh great, he definitely heard what I just said. He takes his thumb and runs it across his throat. I am sooo dead. I put my head between my knees and start to feel sick, plus this damn headache won't go away. After seeing the principle it looks like I have a week’s detention for the language and another week for being late too many times. Joy.
---
Finally getting out of there it's just about time for second period to start.

Don't worry about it, sweetie. He's just a bully that doesn't have anyone who loves him. a girl's voice says.

Stop babying him. I wanna help him too, but he needs to get some confidence in himself. Otherwise he's going to get picked on for the rest of his life. a boy's voice replies.

Okay, this is getting out of hand. My headache doubles and I have to lean against a wall from the pain. If I didn't know any better, I would think those voices belonged to Redmond and Vickie. But that's impossible, they are only dreams. Luckily, I don't hear them talking anymore and the headache fades. I walk into class and sit down just in time for a pop quiz. Joy, pop quizzes in math. Not that it's any real sorta challenge, but still. What's the point in a pop quiz? Let's put all the kids on the spot. Maybe it's just a way for teachers to prove to themselves a kid doesn't care. Or maybe it's a demented sort of pleasure they get from seeing them squirm. Whatever. I finish the quiz in record time, much to the displeasure of the other students. It's not my fault they don't understand the material. Nor is it my fault they put me in the seniors' Trig class. Math just comes easy. Returning to my desk I just put my head down and try to keep this headache from getting any worse again.
---
The rest of school goes by quickly enough. You know the drill, periods three and four follow the second. Then lunch, and then you have fifth and sixth. You've all done it enough times right? You don't need to hear about the pounding in my head, or the fact that every classroom seems to have their heater on. Or that I kept hearing those two voices every so often, followed quickly by a huge headache. Since Jason and Don are both on the football team, I know I'm going to be walking home alone. Hopefully I can dodge John just long enough to get home safely.  
---
Today is so not my day. I only made it to the corner store before running into John and his crew.

"Trying to run for it, huh Matty? I told you I was gonna kill you. And lookie lookie your brothers aren't here to protect you either. Grab him!" John shouts.

One of his buddies grabs me and drags me around the corner. Once we are out of sight John grabs my shirt and tosses me against the wall.   I get the wind knocked out of me as my back hits the wall. I crumple to the ground trying to breathe. I feel hands roughly grab and lift me back up, just to have someone's fist slam into my face. I see stars and my head bounces back. If they weren't holding me I would have collapsed again. Small favors, right? I thought so too, until I felt my knee buckle under pressure. I hear a snap, and incredible pain shoots through my left leg. I know it's broken. It's not the first time I've broken a bone. This time they let me fall. All I can do now is cover my head and try to take what's coming. I feel shoes and hands hitting different parts of my body. The pain was intense, but it still wasn't enough for me to cry out. Another skill I've picked up in my youth. How many bones can you break? How many times can you get punched or kicked before you learn not to make a sound? The downside to a skill like this is when you meet someone like John. Someone who needs to hear the pain in his victim’s voice. After what feels like hours of this, they stop. I think they are done, until I feel hands lifting me back up. I can't put pressure on my left leg. I hear John's voice loud and clear.

"Hold him up."

"We have to do something before it’s too late!" a girl’s voice screamed.

"I know but what?! We can't call the cops! We can't do anything!" a boy’s voice argued back.

John leans in close. I can smell his breath. He waves a knife in front of my face.

"If I ever hear you talk smack about me again. I will use this to finish the job. Don't you ever forget it. Punk!"

He trails the knife across my cheek. I feel the metal but I can't tell if he has cut my skin or not. Just then the sound of rushing feet interrupts his little performance.

"Let's get out of here! Someone's coming!" one of his friends yell.

I hear footsteps retreat and more coming towards me.

"Hey what happened? Are you alright?" a fit young girl asks me.

"I'm fine." I wince more than a little when I attempt to stand. My left leg just can't handle the weight and I immediately collapse. Or I would have if another boy wasn't there to catch me.

"Like hell you're fine. Sit back down now. We'll take to you the hospital, you're leg looks pretty bad. Not to mention your face." the boy responds.   

"Do whatever. I don't care." With that I close my eyes and pass out.

"Did he pass out?" The boy asks.

"Looks that way Ray. He got hit pretty hard. He's pretty tough. Did you see his arm though?" She pulls back my sleeve exposing my scars. "You know what these are right?"

"Shit. This wasn't in the report we have on him. How could they have missed this?"

"I don't know, but I'm going to have a talk about it back at base. In the meantime can you carry him to the SUV. We need to get him looked at before we break the news to him."

With that Ray lifts my limp body off the ground and carries me to an awaiting SUV. I woke up part-way through their little talk. Good thing too.

"What the hell are they talking about? How do they even know who I am?" I thought as I was carried off, presumably to the hospital.

"What are they talking about Red? Can we trust them?" The girl’s voice asks quietly.

"I don't know Vickie. Do we have a choice? It's not like Matt can run, let alone walk, fast right now." Red's responds angrily.