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Fire burns in my stomach, and I push him to the ground. I am tired of being bullied.
This will be the last time this will happen, I think as I ball up my fist up, about to jump on him.
“Leviticus!” I look over to see Dad waving at me.
What is he doing here? I rush to him, ashamed of what he has just seen. As I get closer to him, he pulls me in and starts to talk. “Son, I know it can be hard walking away from fights, but you could have really hurt that boy. You are smarter than that.” He stops and spins around, kneeling, so he can look at me in the eyes. “I’m serious, Leviticus.”
“What do you want me to do? Just get spit on and get bullied my whole life!” I say as my eyes start to tear up. It is not fair. Why do I have to never defend myself?
“I know it is hard, and you may not understand just yet, but try this. Every time you get mad, just stop, breathe, and think. Think about all the possibilities. What if you hurt him? You could have gotten in trouble. If you sit and think, you can figure out what you should do. I normally count to three, and it helps.”
I nod, but I still wish there was something more I could do. Cara and Ezra catch up to us while we walk home. Times like this, I am glad Dad is here. He gives way better advice than Mom. When we get home, I look at my hand, which is all healed, except for some light bruising. I rush to the room, upset about the day. Then Ezra walks in, surprisingly in a good mood.
“Hey, loser, still thinking you’re a mutant or an alien?” Ezra mocked. “That’s right. I heard you talking to Cara!”
“Neither,” I said, glaring at him. “I read that I could be a vampire!”
This put Ezra in an uproar. “Oh! Is that right? So tell me, little brother, if that’s the case, how can you walk in sunlight? And don’t they drink blood? When have you ever tasted blood?”
I put my head down in defeat, knowing that I have never tasted blood.
He walks up and smacks my head and says, “Damn, you really are crazy.”
Not only in school but always here to. I will not sit back and be downgraded like this anymore. I try to tackle him, but he stops me and pushed me to the ground. He sits on top of me, holding me down as he laughs while I struggle to move. As I’m kicking and screaming, Cara comes to my rescue. She runs and jumps on his back. It doesn’t faze Ezra. He simply stands up, holding me by the neck. Grabbing Cara, he throws her off his back and onto the floor.
“Stop being such an asshole, Ezra!” yells Cara.
“Oh, stop trying to be the hero! Everyone still won’t like you because you’re just the black sheep of the family,” says Ezra with a smirk.
As I look over, I see Cara has tears in her eyes, filling my stomach with burning rage. I stand up and run at him. His eyes get wider the faster I close in on him. I grab his shirt and slam him against the wall, which made it feel like the whole house shook. I can’t stop. It’s bad enough that I get hurt, but I have to draw the ling at Cara being hurt. As I pulled back one hand to punch him, my dad appears and catches my hand. All of us stand there, stunned at the fact that he came up here so quietly and instantaneously.
He looks at Ezra. “For the last time, stop bulling them just because you’re the oldest. One day, Levi will bully you. Looks like that day is approaching us after what I’ve just witnessed. Now go. Leave. Take a breath. Just be back before dark.”
As Ezra pushes my hand off him, he glares at dad and says, “Be back before what? The night seekers come after me?” he says, agitated, glaring at Dad. “Come on, Dad. We both know it’s just a myth.” He then storms away.
Dad continues, “As for you, Cara, sometimes the boys will have to fight their own battles. We can’t have you protecting him from everything.”
“Well, I can try, can’t I?” she says, smirking. Dad responds by smiling, rolling his eyes, and then shrugging. As if to say, “it is what it is.”
“Normally, I let them argue, but I had a rough day at school. I got picked on about my name again, which is your fault, by the way,” she teases.
“Yes, you’re right. It is my fault. I wanted your name to be unique. Your mom wanted Ciera, and I put a twist on it. Makes me happy knowing you are unique,” he says, defending himself.
Cara replies, “Well, good for you.” Then she walks away. She is right. Her name is weird. It should be spelled like C’ara, and it sounds like “sea-era.”
He turns and looks at me. “Are you okay?”
“Am I okay? Really! This is all because I’m different, and none of you want to admit it!” As my heart races, I start to feel light-headed.
“Okay, okay, calm down. I understand. I used to feel the same way when I was younger,” he explains.
“You did?” I say, trying to control my anger.
“Yes, and no matter how much my parents said otherwise, I always believed differently, but then I got into a car accident and almost died. After that, I knew I was just a man. We all are human. There is nothing special about us. I’m going to get food. How about you get some rest, and I’ll see you in the morning?”
As skeptical as I am, I don’t protest. I’m simply exhausted. I wake up to Ezra snoring and Dad giving me something to drink. The darkness has engulfed the room, blinding my sight. The drink is sweet, like nothing I’ve tasted before. The taste hangs in the back of my throat, lingering for a couple of seconds before finally going down. I don’t want to stop. I just keep chugging until it’s all gone. Even then, I want to lick the cup clean.
Dad walks away and then says good night as he closes the door quickly. As I lie back, I taste honey and a strong sense of iron on my tongue. Before I can form any bigger thoughts, though, I fall asleep. Having the dream again, I wake up. I am going to confront Mom and Dad and see what they say about all the evidence. I wake up extra early to find Mom and Dad downstairs.
“Can I talk to you two?” I ask them.
“You can talk to us about anything,” Mom says, smiling.
“Is this about yesterday? About you feeling different?” Dad asks.
“Yes, I need to ask you questions.” I tell them my dream with as much details as I could give. “It is my first baby memory, isn’t it?”
Mom looked at my dad nervously as he chuckles and shakes his head. My dad responds, “Son, please, it was a very interesting dream, but you can’t remember being that young.”
“That’s right, son. You’re young. Two years from being a teenager, your mind just has a wider imagination,” my mom chimes in.
“There is just something weird about me. The kids at school laugh at me because I look like a little kid. I am smaller than everyone. I always get better grades, and…and even when I get hungry, I can see these two teeth growing bigger,” I say with my mouth opened wide. I feel bad for a quick second, realizing I never told Cara about this. I take a second to take a breath and proceed to finish my case, “And I was looking on the interne—”
My dad cuts me off, “The internet!” He starts laughing. “Son, stop being dramatic. The kids are just being mean and are even jealous that you’re smarter than them. As for your teeth, I know you feel different so much that you want to believe it, but you just have to accept that you are a plain old human boy.”
“That’s right. Now it’s time to go to school. You’re going to be late. Hurry, and get your brother and sister,” my mom says with a little panic in her voice.
“Okay, fine,” I answer, upset as I walk up the stairs.
As I go to get my brother and sister, Mom reminds us to put on our contacts. I reach the upstairs and tap on Cara’s