Before I Break Read online

  BEFORE I BREAK

  Copyright © 2014 Alec John Belle

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, this book is not to be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without prior written permission from the copyright owner and publisher of this book, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and for review purposes.

  This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organisations, or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Interlude: A poem by Avery Branson

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Interlude: A poem by Avery Branson

  Chapter 5

  Interlude: A poem by Avery Branson

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Interlude: A poem by Avery Branson

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Interlude: A poem by Avery Branson

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Interlude: A poem by Avery Branson

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Interlude: A poem by Avery Branson

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Interlude: A poem by Avery Branson from "Falling Stars"

  Chapter 21

  Interlude: A poem by Avery Branson

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Interlude: A poem by Avery Branson

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Interlude: A poem by Avery Branson

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Epilogue: Ten Years Later

  A Final Poem by Avery Branson

  The Winter of Harms: Avery’s Journal

  Q & A

  Author’s Note

  About the Author

  Who are we as people? That was the question I needed to be prepared to answer the year I started the eleventh grade. If I had known what I know now, I am almost positive I would have done things differently. Sometimes, being too late changes people, and sometimes things just never work out in your favor.

  I’ll be the first to admit that I was dumb, ignorant, and didn’t realize things about the world that I know today. I loved, I lost, and I find myself wondering every day if there was something I could have done differently. I am not a hero. I did not run into a burning building to save people from the walls collapsing around them. I did not fight off a gunman to protect a school full of children. I was the enemy, because that year I learned that the true enemy is within ourselves, and we must overcome our personal demons in order to see the angels.

  For years I was terrified to tell my story, in fear of embarrassment or resentment from others, but now I know that others need to hear it, and maybe by writing this, someone in my shoes can prevent a similar situation from happening.

  My name is Cyril Hayes.

  And this is my story.

  My story begins like many others. I was nothing special, just an average young guy starting his first day at East Hill High School in the suburbs of South Carolina. My junior year had just begun and I was super excited to almost be done with high school.

  When I look back on it now, I realize how unimportant the “important” things were and how important the “unimportant” things were. When you’re young, your mind is fogged with a sense of adolescence, and you believe that the world revolves around you. That was my philosophy that year, that everything would be all about me and what I wanted and what I would do with my life.

  I had everything a guy could ask for; an amazing girlfriend named Melissa Summers, who was the most beautiful girl in the entire world; my best friend, Jake Rivers, whom I had been friends with since we were in the second grade; and a lawyer father who brought home tons of cash. These were the things that seemed of so much importance at the time, and looking back on it now, I want to laugh at myself for ever thinking so.

  When I received my schedule nearly a week before, I had also been proud of myself. My first class of the day was AP Biology, and it made me feel good knowing I had managed an A in Biology Honors to be granted a spot in AP. Then there was AP Language and Composition, Marine Biology, and AP Psychology. Mom had told me all of these advanced classes were probably not a good idea, but I refused to listen to her. I wasn’t going to get into a good college without good classes to have on my application. And lastly I had Algebra II Honors, AP U.S. History, and Creative Writing at the end of the day. Mom had told me it was a good idea to get my ideas out on paper, and I just shrugged at the idea. Then, as she predicted, the writing came in handy.

  I had so much going for me that I was sure I was going to be able to earn a scholarship. I wanted to stay in the area, preferably Clemson University, and get a degree in…well, something. That was the only thing in my life I hadn’t quite figured out at the time. I was more worried about doing well and getting out.

  That morning I was on my way to AP Biology, looking around for my best friend, who was nowhere to be seen. It wasn’t unusual for him to be off somewhere hitting on girls or talking with the guys, so I brushed it off and headed to class. On the way there, I couldn’t get the conversation I had with my father the night before out of my head. Deciding that it wasn’t important, I stopped thinking about it.

  Walking into class, I noticed Melissa on the other side of the room. Her long brown hair was tied up into a ponytail as she pranced around the room finding people to talk to. That was Melissa alright—a social butterfly that never let anyone get to her. Her tough skin was one of the things I loved about her.

  When she noticed me, she smiled and walked my way. She greeted me with a kiss. “Why, hello there, Cyril. How are you this morning?”

  I laughed at her perfect English. “Great, how ‘bout you?”

  She frowned jokingly. “Dork. Why do you feel the need to ruin the moment?”

  “I didn’t ruin the moment. I just like to talk like a normal human being.”

  “Proper English is talking like a human being,” Melissa demanded. “You’re the ones who don’t talk normally.”

  Melissa had this insane fascination with English. She took all of her major English courses in middle school, allowing her to take any English classes she wanted to, like Creative Writing. Her dream was to get a degree in English, and she often wished that I would choose the same thing. Melissa was the only one who knew about my secret love for writing, and it embarrassed me quite a bit. I was supposed to be a big, macho guy with a scholarship coming my way, not some book nerd who loved investing himself into a notebook.

  The late bell rang and everyone took their seats. Melissa sat next to
me, pulling out her textbook and a notebook. “I heard the AP teachers are really nice,” she explained. “The AP Academy is so different than the other part of the school.”

  “Shhh,” I said, smiling. “The teacher’s here.”

  Ms. Benson walked into the classroom, looking blonde and perky. Most guys would say she was sexy, and even though I could see it, I had my heart set on Melissa.

  “Hello class,” she said and sat down at her desk. “My name is Ms. Benson, and I just wanted to say I have the honor of teaching you this year for AP Biology. Most of you were recommended for this class, and if you were, I’d like to say I am proud of you for working so hard to get here. But I also need to send out praise to those who chose to be in this class looking for a challenge and I can promise you—”

  Ms. Benson’s welcome speech was cut short as a late student walked into the class. He looked about my age, maybe even a bit younger, and smiled as he walked in.

  “Sorry I’m late,” he said and handed the teacher his late pass. “I’m new here and got a little last trying to find the AP Academy.”

  Ms. Benson smiled. “No worries, hon. Take a seat anywhere you’d like.”

  The guy nodded and walked over to the empty seat next to me. He looked pretty nice, with blonde hair, blue eyes, and a great smile for a guy. I was sure he could get all the girls with that. He even wore nice clothes, with a Hollister jacket thrown over his shoulder. He smiled at me and took his seat.

  “As I was saying,” Ms. Benson went on, “I would like all of you to go around and introduce yourselves, especially now that we have a new student in the room. So we’ll start on this side of the room with the new kid. Tell us your name?”

  “Avery Branson,” he said as he pulled out a notebook to begin writing in. It looked expensive and was a nice leather-bound that looked like it was maybe a journal. He didn’t look up as he said his name, almost like he felt like he didn’t need to.

  “Nice name,” the teacher said, and then glanced at me. “You?”

  “Cyril Hayes,” I said, smiling back at Avery. “Nice to meet you.”

  Avery ignored my comment. I do have to admit, I didn’t understand why at the time, but he outright didn’t pay any attention to me, leaving me stunned. As everyone went around the room telling their names, I sat there looking at Avery, wondering if he was trying to be rude or if he was just shy.

  The rest of the class period went by kind of slowly as Ms. Benson explained all of the things she was going to teach us, going over the syllabus, and trying to get our names right. The last thing I was thinking about was AP Bio, because all I could replay in my mind was the way that kid just ignored me. A lot of people would normally think of me as a not talkative type of guy, but really, I tried my best to be nice to everyone. Well, almost everyone. When the bell rang, dismissing us from the long class period, everyone began to pile out of the room except Melissa and me.

  And Avery.

  “Hey,” I said to him, trying to spark a conversation. “are you okay?”

  Avery nodded but didn’t look in my direction as he packed up his bag. “I’m fine, I guess. What about you?”

  I definitely felt a little better knowing he wasn’t a complete jerk. “I’m good. Where are you headed now?”

  “Class,” he said, standing up and throwing his bag over his shoulder. “Nice to meet you, Cyril, but I have to go.”

  Avery left quickly, making me feel as though I did something wrong. Melissa came up behind me, taking a hold of my hand. “Hey, don’t worry about it. I’m sure it’s just hard for him to be new and all, you know? I think he may need a friend.”

  I nodded but didn’t say a word. There was something interesting about Avery that I couldn’t quite put my finger on, but I had no idea that when I figured it out, my whole life would change.

  No one knows what I don’t show,

  A pain so deep and down below.

  I push through the suffering every day,

  Only to find that there’s no other way.

  How can I be the way that I am--

  When everyone will hate me no matter where I am?

  The scars on my heart won’t ever go away,

  The scars on my arms will never fade away.

  My soul is so broken that I think there’s no choice

  To do anything other than hide my weak voice.

  I spent the next two class period learning about themes in literature and the amount of water that makes up the Earth. AP Language and Marine Biology were fun classes, but after the thing with Avery, I just wasn’t really feeling it. Maybe he just wasn’t really a nice person. That was always a possibility, but I doubted it for some reason. Being the new kid couldn’t be easy--not that I expect it would be--but if someone was trying to be friends with him, why would he be an ass?

  After those two classes were finally over, I could get to lunch. My insides were turning with hunger, and as I walked down the hallway to the cafeteria, I searched for my best friend, Jake. Maybe, I thought, he was already in the cafeteria. As I headed on in, I was overwhelmed with the amount of people.

  I had to give East Hill some credit. When it first started, it only had a couple hundred students, and now, five years later, it was almost at two thousand. There were talks of renovating the school to make it fit more people, but I had a feeling it wasn’t going to happen until after I graduated. The cafeteria was full and I had to squeeze my way through the crowd to get to my table, where Melissa sat, laughing with the girls about some possible cheerleader joke, and the guys were talking about sports.

  Jake and I were the only two guys at the table that didn’t play sports, and we were told during registration that we needed something on our college applications that would make us look different than other applicants. They handed us a list of clubs that we completely ignored, but I was beginning to wonder if I’d really need it for college. There had to be some sort of club that would look good, something that didn’t require sports. While I liked watching them, playing them was not my forte.

  I squeezed in between some cheerleader named Claire and my girlfriend. Melissa smiled at me, wrapping her arms tightly around my waist and said, “Hey baby, how are you?”

  “I’m alright,” I replied. “Have you seen Jake? Or Avery?”

  She shook her head. “I haven’t seen Jake all day. And I haven’t seen that Avery kid since first period. Why? Are you looking to try and talk to him again?”

  I shrugged. “I was just curious, that’s all. I’m going to find Jake, I’ll be right back.” I got up from the table and went to go see if I could find Jake anywhere nearby. I pulled out my phone and texted him, asking if he was coming to lunch, and waited for a response. His text came through a couple minutes later and he said,

  Why would Jake be in the courtyard? There was only one reason for that, and if he was doing what I thought, I was going to be pissed beyond belief. Stomping down the hall and throwing open the door to the courtyard, I found him over in one of the corners. He was wearing sunglasses and had a beanie hat on top of his head, and he looked relaxed. When I glanced at his hand, I saw that he had a joint.

  I walked on over and snatched it out of his hand. He met my eyes and smiled. “Hey man, how are you doing today?”

  “I was doing fine until I just found you smoking pot in the middle of the courtyard,” I explained. “Are you trying to get yourself expelled?”

  It took a moment for Jake to answer. Finally, he said, “I…was just looking for some relaxation time…and thought you’d want some with me.” He reached to grab the joint out of my hand and I pulled it from his reach. “What…the fuck, man…”

  I really couldn’t believe I had to sit here and do this with him right now. “Keep the sunglasses on and come with me inside. I have some cologne in my bag that I can spray you with to get rid of the smell, which by the way, resembles something similar to armpit.”

  “Thanks, Cy,” he said softly. “All this
shit’s hazy…I think I need a break.”

  This was exactly why I hated the idea of him doing weed. Jake has always proven himself to be a mess. I threw the joint of the ground and stepped on it, refusing to let the lit joint burn out. “Jake, let’s go.” I grabbed him and picked up the remnants of the joint, shoving it in my pocket, and heading toward the cafeteria.

  When Jake and I began our sixth grade year, I had my time period where I experimented with weed. The thing for me was that I just really didn’t like it and hoped that Jake wouldn’t do it either. After a few weeks, Jake refused to give it up, and has been smoking it ever since. Not once has he ever abused it like this in a public area such as school. Either school was getting to him or something was seriously wrong with his head.

  I dragged my best friend to my table and sat him next to me, between Claire and me, and Melissa gave me a questioning look when she saw him. “Are you okay, Jake?”

  “He’s fine,” I lied. Normally I wouldn’t be one to lie to Melissa, but the truth was, she hated the idea of weed just as much as I did. When she found out that I used to do it, she was very happy that I’d quit, but I never told her that Jake still continued to use it. I really wanted to keep it a secret because I was not big on the whole weed thing either, and knew it would just make her mad that he did it. Sometimes with her it was all or nothing.

  I reached into my bag and gave him some of my cologne, hoping to get rid of the smell. Sometimes being the responsible one in the friendship was hard. The truth was, if I knew what I knew now, I probably would have been able to stop the tragedy that was emerging.

  When I arrived home later that evening, I went straight into my room and logged onto my computer. The first thing I wanted to do was check to see if this Avery guy had a Facebook. As I clicked on the search and typed in his name, I smiled in relief.

  There he was. His profile was set on private, but I didn’t want to be creepy and send a request right away, did I? Deciding he would probably like a friend, I sent him a friend request and went to my bed to rest my head.