Jayden Lerma, “step into the ring”
Jones’ foot was one with that of the gas pedal in his car. He sped down the highway as he could only think of one thing; his unquenchable anger. He was going to Chicago for Thanksgiving. He was alone and he liked it that way, dreading the platitudes that awaited him at his grandparent’s house. He did not want to be cordial with them. He would not. He could not. Today was going to be the end of them.
The windows were rolled down as he took in the brisk cold of the surrounding air. The rushing wind was the only sound he heard. That and the sound of his heart beating to the beat of a war drum. He was driving his way to a war; one that he would do anything to win. Screeching to a halt in front of the home of his forefathers, Jones walked out and beat on the front door. There was no answer. He hit it again, harder and harder until his knuckles were red and raw. The door opened.
“Quit it,” was all that his Aunt Lucy said as she saw him. “Oh, Jones…it’s you.”
“Yeah,” was all he could muster, “It’s me.”
“We didn’t think that you’d make it.”
“Neither did I,” he muttered as he pushed past her into the house. The energy he felt there was painful. It hurt him to be here. He would do anything to leave.
“Follow me,” Lucy ordered, the passive aggression not lost on Jones. He begrudgingly complied. She walked into the living room, Jones locked the door. He stared at the doorknob for a bit, contemplating if he was ready to do this or not. He broke off the door knob.
“What’s that noise?” The voice of his Uncle Murray radiated from the living room . It made Jones stagger a bit as he walked in, doorknob in hand. “What did you do?”
“Accident,” he lied.
“You sure?” Inquired his other uncle, Langstrom, as he stared into Jones’ eyes, suspicious. Jones nodded and sat down.
With his aunt and uncles was his grandfather, too fixated on the game to notice Jones’ prescience. He didn’t care. None of them did. “So, Jones,” awkwardly interjected Murray, “what have you been up to?”
“Stuff.”
“Funeral stuff,” stated Lucy.
“Yup, funeral stuff.” He looked to the floor, not wanting to show them his eyes brimming with rage. “You guys were a great help with that by the way.” His words cut the wind like a knife as the three of his father’s siblings stared at him.
“What was that?” Murray asked, incredulous.
“Nothing.”
“No. We heard you,” Lucy piled on. Murray got up, violence on his mind. He made it to Jones’ chair and towered over him, taking up all of the young man’s vision as he grabbed him by the neck.
“Get ‘em,” said Langstrom as Murray lifted Jones from his seat and pinned him against the wall. His hand grew tighter and tighter on Jones’ windpipe.
“We didn’t help with the funeral because my brother,” Murray said with pure hatred in his eyes, “decided to marry some girl who tarnished our blood, and she gave birth to you. We cut him off because of the life he cut out for himself being utterly alien from what we were raised to make of ourselves. And you have the gall to come to our house on Thanksgiving of all days and say this stuff to us.”
Jones’ bloodshot eyes met the eyes of his aggressor, matching them in anger as he raised his fist with his last bit of strength. With all the force he could muster he punched Murray in the face, staggering him as he released the boy’s neck. Without a second thought, Jones ran into Murray’s chest and began giving him body blow after body blow, while Murray, shocked, recollected himself and pushed Jones off.
Jones landed a kick to Murray’s leg, taking him to a knee, and he began to beat his face to a pulp. Lucy pushed Jones to the ground and kicked him over and over again. “Enough!” a voice shouted. It was Jones’ grandfather, getting up from his chair and walking to the scene. Lucy stopped her assault and picked Jones up. He struggled to stay on his feet as his grandfather began to tower over him now.
“Apologize,” he commanded.
“Yeah, apologize,” Murray agreed.
“What? You’re telling me to apologize to him. He should apologize to me.”
“Listen, the day my son apologizes to someone like you is the day this house burns down. Never in our family history has anyone ever apologized to a halfbre–” his words were cut off as Jone’s knife went through his throat.
Lucy and Murray stood, shocked, as their father fell to the ground, crimson liquid coating his body and the floor below it. Without a second thought, Jones swung the knife at Lucy before landing his blade into Murray’s stomach. Lucy ran to the kitchen, Langstrom following suit, as Jones plunged his blade over and over and over again into Murray’s abdomen until he fell to the floor. The man was dead, but Jones kept going as the pent up rage of twenty two years of abuse finally left his body.
Lucy, screaming, took a kitchen knife and plunged it into Jones’ back, right between his shoulder blade and his spine. This broke him from his trance, and, reeling from pain, he took his blade and cut her throat in an instant. She fell to the ground, clutching her throat together, unsuccessfully, as she clamored for life. Single mindedly, he walked to the kitchen for his final target.
He saw Langstrom sitting at the table, eating the feast that covered it. “It wasn’t an accident, was it?” The final obstacle inquired.
“No. None of this is.”
“Why?”
“You abandoned my father and me all because of your biases. You treated me like something less than human, like something that shouldn’t be alive,” as he spoke he walked to the stove and turned on the gas of all four burners. “So I resolved to give you what you deserve.”
“Well, I won’t go out without a fight,” Langstron resolved as he rose from his chair and picked a knife up from the table and lunged at Jones, knife puncturing his chest. The red of his blood gushing from his wound was Langston stabbed again and again, Jones’ hope falling from his soul at every twist.
“You will not win,” Jones eked out as he made his final stand. He pulled the closest knob on the stove which he was pinned to and the fire engulfed everything. An eruption of infernal blaze overtook Jones and Langstrom and all of the hate of that family. Jones had gotten what he wanted, his family was gone forever.
